Careful—what you hear
is not truly what mind heard;
bias wears a voice
we sort the world by its sound—
kinship hums in tone and tongue.
Talk sounds funny—strange,
not what you're used to hearing
through your native ears
guardrails narrow to constrain
how you render each word's sound.
Hearing listens first
for cadence, tone, inflection—
truth dressed in accents;
one voice rises, one falls through,
judged before the words arrive.
A child chooses friends—
not for faces, but a voice
that feels like their own;
in accents they speak at home
echoing inheritance.
As youths grow older
their speech bends towards the room,
softly converging—
to belonging in the crowd
with a learned change in accent.
Careful—he might hear
you—not as you fully are
mutual bias
is voiced in accented sounds—
kinship strummed in scope and tone.
In early years, we introduce
Our kids to rhymes of Mother Goose
And then move up to Dr. Seuss
In hopes that joy will stick.
In school, most teachers reproduce
Some famous poems and then induce
Their students, taking no excuse,
To write their versions, quick.
This seems like language arts abuse
And children might just say vamoose
When rhyme and rhythm, like a noose,
Constrain them, tight and thick.
To me, though, as you might deduce,
My rhyming helps my thoughts flow loose,
So ‘til my brain runs out of juice,
It’s what will make me tick.
Self-Owned
Remember
the day
you became entitled
to yourself
No debts to pay
no last charade
the circle closed
— indwelt
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
Reflection
Do we just recall
a memory
Or its cause
and its effect
Is consciousness
a chain of links
To front load
— or dissect
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
Beatitude
The deeper you question
the more you constrain
God’s true existence
to never explain
Loosen your grip
on what holds you back
Surrender to glory
— Divinity’s tack
(1st Book of Prayers: May, 2025)
The Only Thing
Winning is always
undefeated
Score
to tell the tale
The victory plum
is zero sum
With glory
— to regale
(The New Room: May, 2025)
All Is Now
Unplugging tomorrow
recharging today
Conscripting the moment
— inside which we pray
(1st Book of Prayers: May, 2025)
He brings awful thunder.
With all his disdain,
he booms and he blusters
with words most profane.
Along with the thunder -
like sparks on a plain -
comes lightning that he
simply cannot contain.
Those blazes of hatred
that she can’t constrain
come suddenly! What
made him so inhumane?
Like crops set on fire -
her heart is the grain
reducing to ashes.
His rage is her bane.
A love once held dear
she no more can feign.
He feels this, and strikes her
again and again.
Along with the thunder
come torrents of rain.
She drowns in the hurt
from which he won’t refrain.
He’s vowed she will die
if she severs the chain
that binds her to him
in unholy pain!
She tried once to flee,
but it was in vain.
Control that is thunder’s
he’ll always maintain.
So pray for all women
within thunder’s reign -
that freedom from it
once more they’ll regain.
A gilded cage, a silken thread,
A promise whispered, soon misled.
They say they serve; they say they lead,
But shadows lengthen, freedom bleeds.
Their laws, a net, so fine, so tight,
Constrain the spirit, dim the light.
The whispers grow to angry cries,
As hope decays, beneath their lies.
They speak of order, safety's hold,
But their control, grows ever bold.
From gentle nudge to iron fist,
The line is blurred, the trust is missed.
The whispers turn to open fight,
Against the tyranny, day and night.
For in their hearts, a fire burns,
A thirst for truth, for freedoms earns.
The chains may bind, the walls may rise,
But within the soul, the spirit flies.
For in the face of oppression's might,
The human heart reclaims its light.
Let that myth die that rhymes freedom refrain,
That, grammar a sonnet’s sweetness fetter,
That, pen’s creativity they constrain,
Nay, they add to their beauty, scarce deter.
The metre that appears to restrain,
In truth, entices a sonnet to sing,
For, where would pleasure be if there’s no pain?
To autumn’s ache owes the splendour of spring.
Strings get tuned only when chords suffer strain,
A sonnet, when goes through its tests of fire,
Ah heaven-sent blessing they all, no bane,
Rhymes boost sonnet’s spell much like temple’s spire,
Let no lyrics claim free reign of a crown,
Lest their free will pull the poesy down.
___________________________________________
Sonnet |10.06.2024| poetry, poesy
It seems that I have learned little,
From the encyclopedic, book of love.
As the subtle complexities have amused
And mystified me from high above.
Some may even claim that
They are simply beyond my reach.
So that no matter how many pages
Turned, the words are empty, and won't teach.
Yet I continue to stumble along,
Beginning new chapters to read & weigh.
Hoping for some wisdom to toil through,
Where I can grow without delay.
This journey requires great study,
With time to reflect and understand.
While no clock is present to constrain,
Just diligent respect to guide a hand.
Here, my advice is given, to avoid any
Skimming or speed-reading going fast.
Since the knowledge is often fading,
But true love survives to last.
If all there is …is now
And time but an illusion
Wondering where it went
Causes me confusion
If there’s been no then
Is it all Zen
And the end is
Where it will begin
Is every sunrise
The same one
Or even worse
There wasn’t one
If time is but a spectral dot
A web in which the moment’s caught
An endless mug of Guinness stout
Time gone an a “walk-a-bout”
Perhaps I should constrain my pen
Forget the world of now and then
And have a mindful Zen-like chat
With the characters of this and that
You can’t
embrace reality
forever
Its tenets
restrict
and constrain
By definition
it renames
itself
Once spoken
to then be
disclaimed
What comes
upon you
the moment laced
Where vacuums
exit
in time and space
Regenerates
from life’s
cocoon
In endless
cycles
—moon to moon
(Dreamsleep: January, 2024)
Let go of your
hand grip
let go of
the past
Take fate as
a lover
betrothed
and recast
Your belt
and suspenders
restrict
and constrain
Release
your indemnity
free
—once again
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
It is remarkably insane,
To look vacantly out the pane,
With a green bottle of Bollinger champagne,
Enjoying the wobbly rain, rain, rain!
I would rather spend a day in Spain,
Or sit by the seaside in Ukraine,
An alternative of gawking all in vain,
At the wet and soggy rain, rain, rain!
My entire day would certain remain,
Unstimulating and very mundane,
Before the sympathy could sustain,
I would flee away from the rain, rain, rain
I would pose and listen to Zakir Hussain,
Without experiencing the Nyctophobic pain,
And munching on the Christmas candy cane,
For my drink, I’ll gulp the rain, rain, rain!
Oh! I desperately have the need to explain,
The very day I had to constrain,
As it was not so germane,
To taste the polluted rain, rain, rain!
The cloudburst valiantly fights the Elaine,
The pellucid flurry wondering it's Shane,
Tries to stuff the muddy moraine,
But sadly cries into rain, rain, rain!
The baffled sleet faces refrain,
Awaits the rush hour of the town’s train,
To run away from the aubade, so urbane,
Sadly, the unconvincing rain, rain, rain, goes away.
[Arrival of summer]
BY SATVIKA UNDER THE PEN NAME SAVERA
Laws restrict
but can’t constrain
What happens freely
the light reclaims
Cause and effect
together apart
Squaring the circle
—the horse and the cart
(Dreamsleep: March, 2023)
Once in a while we both may smile
In ecstasy of love’s beguile
Pondering down memory lane
In delight of the loving game.
Do you feel flames of love again
In that burning, yearning constrain
Seeing us sat upon a stile
Once in a while we both may smile.
A kiss betwixt our lips tactile
Erstwhile we were young and agile
Frolicking in showers of rain
Pondering down memory lane.
In Paris on the river Seine
With a bubbly glass of champagne
Serenaded many a mile
In ecstasy of love’s beguile.
I replay music Celtic style
Smitten by the Emerald Isle
Seen from the comfort of a train
In delight of the loving game.
Now I’m back from memory lane
And we split anew once again
In dreams we’ll dance again in style
Love reconciled, once in a while.
His surgeon was trained
to mainly constrain
traumatic physical pain
What is needed
instead
To nurture
and nurse retrain
mental health
and safety strain
Maybe spiritual wealth regained
green resilience
Tao Zen Zeroist
wu-wei tipping point fame
for resonant balance
DayLight/NightUnPower
corresponding fear of shame
about dawn/dusk trauma drama
EarthTribe's cooperatively co-invested
ecofeminist refrain
+1 = -(-0) exponentially squared
rides our polycultural
polymetric x/y co-binary strain
multicultural healthy wealth
comedic trauma
stand up and sit down to pee
strain and pain
hard and soft as rain
teacher student train.
I know it started skin-deep. Pull! In love I fell.
Charm gave kinetic kick; Unique magical spell!
I don't negate the touches; Tea to refresh!
Did we not rise above our hunger of the flesh?
Did I impose any constrain? Did I demand?
To fulfill my desires, did I ever command?
Did I receive more and gave very miserly?
Did I not bestow you liberty entirely...?
I reserved no gains in you for my egotism,
Offered myself with an absolute altruism;
Flawless perfection was not that in you I sought,
It's toward honest love that I had always fought...!
Your waiting for hours for me to come back to deign,
Waiting on me while ill, midst your physical pain;
Staying close when rich; in penury still closer,
In times of troubles you became poise-composer...!
This is why our love, today, has turned true marvel,
Resurrecting and reviving from stages larval;
Passions, like reservoirs of nectar, brim-filling,
Our life has been tree near streams, in freshness thrilling...!
11 August 2022
Strong Emotions Poetry Contest
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