From the rising sun in the east
To casted shadows after dark in the west,
Our tribal marked faces show,
A timeless story, aglow.
Seasons come and go,
Hiding shades and dimmed sparks.
Beneath the sprawling swamps,
Cornering meandered mangroves,
Our roots run deep,
Anchored in attires of legacy.
Our heads see without light,
Guided by old wisdom unspoken.
Truth and strength wrap us,
Like leaves hiding the stem,
This binding keeps us to mother earth,
Fatherland, and to each other.
The river Nun whispers
Future tales of our past,
Her ebb and flow carry songs of joy,
Of resilience, of hope.
Wells oiled to bustle with life,
Echoing voices of a southern people united,
Crafting stories with each fishing net,
With each catch and harvest,
With each chant that shakes the air.
We stand with one another,
As trees in a forest,
Strong and steadfast,
Each branch reaching,
Each leaf singing,
Together in harmony,
Brothers and sisters fit to guide,
The new call of the river Nun.
Life is a complex without a god.
Feel too much, risk being wrong.
Sit in silence, agree, just nod.
We wish it didn't take that long.
Feel like a slave, get smacked with a prod.
Sit down, believe that you're strong.
We all need a break from lifes daily fraud.
Please stay seated and sing your hearts song.
I'll be here, I'll listen, I'll applaud.
Wake up to the sound of a life changing gong.
Reality rarely really rallies a real rapture or a ripple.
Condescending criminals cornering creative cons causes us to cripple.
We're never as strong as we think.
We need a reminder from a soul not on the brink
I'm not so sure what is at stake.
Sleep is overrated.
Am I even awake?
Easier said than done.
Hang in there fren.
For conquests of smells that are plain stench,
Keep cornering perfumes of The French:
I’d seen an animated advance
Towards a wide range of these perfumes
By seekers of a classic fragrance
Like police dogs towards picked up fumes,
Their waiting covers quickly remove
And with long sniffs their excellence prove…
Yet, this does a lot confuse The Nose
And tires all wires to it close;
I’d choose to not fool The Olfactory
To home dash with The Satisfactory.
Be warned one’s True Yes might be later
One’s final judgment to wait and wait…
Quest for perfumes a search for image
Rarely I glimpsed one in the village;
Men they’d grab or their company,
More of them spray and they’ll be many.
When you are as a fool titled
Calmly proceed with no grudge
In case you abnormally erupt
You just take the title firmly
Criticisms all can level
Without a tinge of truth
If you take it seriously
Peace will ditch you soon
Those making a scary attack
Will forget you very soon
If you carry their rotten act
You mind does accept filth
They achieve a silly pleasure
By cornering you vehemently
Their minds contain only trash
Their behavior is unhealthy
If those people are ignored
Their action will slowly die
They may feel fully rejected
Next step will be quitting.
*Image of World Peace by Pixabay.
Our Ring of Peace
There is a reason
the world is round and not square,
no cornering or
boxed-in, but let peace ring free
all around this world of ours.
2022 March 08
*1st Place*
World Peace
~~Robert James Liguori: Judged 2022 March 10
*HMS: 5,7,5,7,7.
When you a petty thief house,
Expect a dramatic disappearance of your blouse
And one other filmic vanishing and sure goodbye
With his waiting, believable alibi.
When you all . webs browse,
Not against this holding a grouse,
You’ll definitely see
What shall make you feel at sea…
When you can’t from your hair extract a louse
You might not out-smart a cornering mouse…
If you can powerful emotions arouse,
You can a spitting fire douse!
When you a petty thief house,
Expect a dramatic disappearance of your blouse
And one other filmic vanishing and sure goodbye
With his waiting, believable alibi.
When you all . webs browse,
Not against this holding a grouse,
You’ll definitely see
What shall make you feel at sea…
When you can’t from your hair extract a louse
You might not out-smart a cornering mouse…
If you can powerful emotions arouse,
You can a spitting fire douse!
When you a petty thief house,
Expect a dramatic disappearance of your blouse
And one other filmic vanishing and sure goodbye
With his waiting, believable alibi.
When you all . webs browse,
Not against this holding a grouse,
You’ll definitely see
What shall make you feel at sea…
When you can’t from your hair extract a louse
You might not out-smart a cornering mouse…
If you can powerful emotions arouse,
You can a spitting fire douse!
I am not surprised
by America's
surprisingly
old development
happening
in new developments
This is the reaction
of what happens
when black
reaches the white house
There's no more
mass exodusse
of neighborhoods
or churches.
There's nowhere
else your hate can go
It will ooze,
and pour out and
devour wherever you go,
We shouldn't be surprised
Having seen the cornering
of this monster
attack for no apparent reason
it has been loose
for centuries
Now, we can finally
start locking
hate away and throwing
away the key,
I will forgive you
If you'd only respect me.
Love and like are too foreign
of an object
You'd touch a thing
that landed here
deep from outer space
before ever reaching
out to touch me.
I am not surprised
how this hate has grown
and consumed
an entire country.
It all began when we
forgot how to
recognize empathy
Your skin was once
the color of mine
I just stood in the light
longer
That fact
shouldn't be a surprise
trigger warning Rape, sexual harassment
you were 6 when the boy in the desk behind you kept pulling your ponytail till he made you cry. It was okay though,it meant you had pretty hair.
You were 9 when the ball kicked at you by the boys in the field coloured your eye instead of the makeup you were not yet allowed to wear. It was okay though, they did that because you were so pretty you intimated them.
You were 12 when the filthy fingers of the boy next you on the bus marked your thighs blue. You didn't tell anyone though. You knew it was your fault really; that skirt was too seductive.
You were 16 when the man on the other side of the street had the brilliant idea of following you down the road, cornering you in that dark aisle and thrusting himself inside of you. Only to leave you there, a bloody half-naked carcass, repeating to yourself again and again that this was okay. This was okay because boys will be boys. Girls? Well, we just have to take it like a man.
He grows the seed destined to be the feed
But it dupes him sans any heed
Amidst all the unwanted weeds
He plays with the tree with thoughts of being forever free
By cornering away all his conundrums
Which he earlier masked with cheap and costly rum
Little does he know he is on the way of becoming one
By accompanying the end of his child’s fun
After the rendezvous with the noose
he manages a segment of the prepped-up morning booze
The kings in their gilded castles mourn their loss of food
Whilst removing their bejeweled hoods
He dreamed his child would be rich
His land not to be a filthy witch
But in the future, there are only rags
and stitches or the rope filled with glitches
Loop of such lives is endless
Troop of fat pursed kings relentless
Scoop of mornings tasteless
To burn the rope seems baseless.
Fleeting Visions of how this life was supposed to be
Choke me into Another Year
Unrelenting Regrets heave against
my motivation
Cornering my Resolutions like a trapped animal
Struggling to survive my Intentions gasp for air
Cringing at my Decisions
My Desperation realizes
It is the victim of my Humanity
Soaring from the past old fears of some Insanity
A Coldness from the longest of winters
Touches my Soul with its fingertip
Impossible Conclusions draw tears upon my hope
Fighting Endlessly to lose the battle…the games go on
Survival is a must though its Reasons are scarce
Love is alive though its Innocence is dead
The game plan is a void of Worthless Opportunities
My body is a void of Useless Emotions
My Destiny suffers here on the battlefield
Unknown to most, forgotten by the rest,
Unblemished reason flickers in the night’s
Unending gloom, persistent in its quest
Until its vigor kindles brighter lights.
Beset by whispers from a living fold
Before whose eyes it rises high or falls,
Bedridden Virtue shivers in the cold
Beneath the skies where harpies voice their calls.
Alike, while wolves are cornering their prey
Against the void which offers no escape,
A beam of hope announces a new day
Amid loud calls to end young Beauty’s rape.
If only fools could speak the wise man’s tongue,
Eternal days could never last too long.
Find Langford's poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Now you know all of us
were endowed by our Creator
with different various gifts,
some of us can write, some of
us can draw, some of us just sit,
but there's a special brand out
there that are very good at chit-chat,
they're partly vegetarian but mostly carnivorous,
as you try hard not to roll your eyes and scoff,
they stand there and like a hungry cannibal
slowly chew both your ears off,
cornering you as if your their prey
like its chit-chatting hunting season,
you look at them and try to leave
while you think up a good reason,
these people I'm talking about
were endowed with the special gift of gab,
while their one person conversation
turns from pretty interesting to boring and drab,
all the while thinking of your small bladder size,
you try as hard as you can to get
a word in sideways and edgewise,
you look at them and wish a
cat would claim their tongue,
all the while thinking they have
an awful lot of hot air in their lungs,
and when I finally escape and make
a bee line for the restroom,
the gift of gab person is once again on the hunt,
while innocent victims notice and like
Forrest Gump scatter and start to run.
Ann-Marie
Tombs for teeth stuck out
On stocks overhanging
A trembling lower lip the
Impression of permanent snivel
Impeding would-be normal childish speech
Should such a thing ever have been desired
Passionately pleading
Dark brown eyes - doe I think they’d say
Both avoiding the straight ahead
Poised always
Glistening ready to tear saying more
Than dental excavations ever could
The bowl cut - affectionately known
A burden only the wearer owns
Tatty coat delicately worn
Cloak of poverty faded brown check
Perfectly in keeping
With grimy socks
On slim grey legs
Offering protection no mean feat
Cornering the cornered
We hoped they would retreat but
The boys used their hands superior
Body strength feet
In urgent proliferation to reach
The tenderest of all to strike her pure cheek
Daily battles we fought
Crushing defeats all yours to bear
Carried alone with the scars clinging
Even in the air
At home with the stigma and cruelty
That delivered you there
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