do interim conclusions deduced end our life’s continuations
The chirping of the first bird to which I listen
And the first ray of the sun that glistens
Are not the beginnings, yet, continuations?
Of his caring hand, carrying on its liberation
Like untimely drizzling and winged termites
Surprises set in with inexplicable delights.
Each petal that unfurls from fresh flowers
Rays that spread out like rainbow showers
Movements of the mind and heart with feelings
Timely movement of the sun above the ceilings
Birds and beasts have good and bad times.
Hearts chant songs of the almighty in chimes.
Each act he begins, like ripples on water, spreads
With the emerging moon, his graces flow ahead.
Each moment is an era of mercy in his hands.
They're countless, like gold-dust-like desert sands.
Walk for peace as quiet as a stranger
Tread softly without digress on this road
It does look so lovely to endanger
So, neither jump nor leap like a smart toad
Switch left or right if that is your own wish
Just don't change the channel to trade urge
Interconnected scopes will soon vanish
All boosting swags will openly converge
What a shame to the secret explorer!
With many voluntary and shameful mess
Like a bedmate sleepless nights with snorer
Continuations merely stand to impress
How a loyalist turned a turncoat prey
The best means to serve a free turn its sway
Wings are flying on the west sky of dreams
On the wide field of crops, insects are dead
Utensils are burning coals on the dales of sun
Birds are begging by the windows of hungriness
Humanity is a word of handicapped in inventions
Who knows the world's poor hungry intentions
Let it be lived long the welfare all
Let it be dead soon the bad luck fall
Welcome to the science by nature
Unwelcome to the calamity features
5G radiation or the covid-19 lotions
Or all these viral death continuations
Let us live as like before life
Save the world from inventive strife
Chattogram © Mahtab Bangalee
The Inferiors!
The proud and the rebellious!
The Uncalled!
The unheard!
The two nuisances that are overtaking
the galaxy's millenniums presently!
Or the oh so game called ones life!
The uncalled are the ones that
Turn the pages at that supposed wonderful end!
Mislead to the reveal
that the continuations
Cliffhanger or the to be continued
leads to one of my own worlds
greatest curiosities!
In ones mind unheard of and
uncannily
never spoken out by the ones
I name the
uncalled!
The inferiors are the proud!
The Warriors that fight valiantly with swords
air strike bombs
and guns
they breathe only blood and gore
Portrayed in my vigil lights
as my only worlds truly false winners!
That always underestimate the ones
I name the uncalled
This lead to my conclusion
The worlds true winners
Are my own
the ones
I name the
Uncalled.
The truly blessed
Uncalled!
Who then, but I, should benefit
from the awakening moments
of revelations unfolding?
Continuations of meditative wandering,
in dreamscapes certain tutelage,
charges the morning air
with marked anticipation…
As I, … Yes, I
am but a puddle of wanting
to experience, to clarify,
this need for something more.
As morning’s grey sky
becomes a canvas to paint my day
my diligence of expectations
is elevated four score.
For what is lain on today’s table
seems to offer me much more…
As I, ….. Yes, I
am but a puddle of wanting
to accentuate the colors
of the pallet beyond my door.
© Debra Squyres - 01/04/16
Why worthy? None more so than others on the soup that we are blessed to read.
This is simply one of my personal favorites and it still speaks to my
spirit today. I think each day should be entered with expectations and we hold the brush to paint our day.
POETRY
Poetry is like modeling
Model of self control, by fashions ornamented
New from old organized
Poetry is like modeling.
Poetry is like modeling
Taken to be an example of solving
Concomitant problems, scrutinizing societal growth
It have to be written in it’s beautifully stanza
Poetry is like modeling
Poetry is like modeling
Taking ideas into reality, symbolizing continuations
From the abstract world of imagery
To the way of its reality life long
Poetry is like modeling
Senryu
The unwritten
Is a dream not yet awake
A soundless slumber
Senryu
Breaths of the unsaid
Hangs on an autumnal tree
Waiting for the wind
Saying
Silence is
The continuations
Of what was not said
The ruling, wiling format
accustomed to its mitt,
concerned with daily door mats
to will their lifeless wit!
The cloister of content staff
all theirs, all ours, all kit
Ne're once restricting floor mats
approval as their gift!
Enhance no me're adjournment
I am not here to flit,
the truth in essay's crow spat
is sameness, sameness, spit!
And so, grave not my gross craft
that essay of de script
the truth in escrow's culled hat
remit, remit, remits!
The same old story's lulled shaft
continuations rift
to fill, to write, a form in
relating to its shift!
This labor's just a bore-in
remove me from the raft
my walk away just score in
I owe you only that!!!
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.