ENCOMIUM EXCELLENCE-:-
splendour
presents
tasteful
coloured
epthets
so NUANCED
appealing
illusions
avail
different
memories
in SIMPLE PROMPTS
complex
extensive
reportoires
culturally
characterised
Definition: The liminal space between boundaries
where nationality is blurred.
I exist at the invisible archipelago
of the West Coast American Dream;
20 minutes from the water,
a short highway trip to the Tijuana border.
I am culturally mixed,
diverse in my chosen origin.
Lemon trees grow in tandem
with scraped knees and broken skateboards.
Names are intertwined with ethnicity,
but chosen instead to fit personality.
I am not just the fifth letter of the alphabet,
in between Escobar and Elena.
The vociferous George
So, here we are, it is ten in the evening
And I have my glass, nay, glasses of red wine
I'm thinking of George Galloway, who
I must say he has mellowed since he left Britain
His voice is less strident; this evidently
caused by his love for his wife and living
Abroad is culturally good for him
But do I detect a slight drift to the right
barely noticeable, but I have noticed
Could it be because he is influenced by X
that some of X, readers have made him
a moderate? No, I refuse to think ill of him.
A Bus Ride
I had bought a
newspaper in town and was taking the bus home
an hours ride
up to my village. I looked at the
headlines
noticed the paper had no date
was I reading yesterday’s
today`s news or tomorrow`s
The bus was empty this afternoon
it struck me how silent it ran could only hear the swishing
sound of
rubber against the
asphalted road.
Then the bus stopped on this journey outside my house
so many flowers now in November, my dog sat on
the steps waiting
just for me.
The bus door opened with a sigh,
but the dog didn`t run to me
I hesitated; was it the same house
yet not the same this one looked immaterial
the flowers were pale, a copy of a painting
forgotten rural art
exhibition arranged by a local culturally interested GP
Not my village
I said to the driver and sat down
“Are you sure?” the driver asked, I didn’t answer
the bus rolled on.
Opened the newspaper
It was Monday.
Double Double Words To Bubble 2 Poetry Contest
Joseph May
Circus Clowns
Crazy, colorful, chucklesome, and comiC
It's under the big top that clowns are so playfuL
Reflecting and revealing themselves as the yahoO
Certainly clumsy-footed and so culturally sloW
Up and around the big top they spiN
Sunnyside up on frying panS
As kivila
was almost disappearing in Uvila
central,
One of the sons of Lembwe
who's called Mapendano Mukevi,
Well known by his stage name
Of " Mule"
Who said one day
" No and no again,
Kivila will never die while I am living.
I will never witness the death
Of my mother tongue on this planet Earth.
No language will swallow kivila.
I wish to become a bavila library
and museum through my Arts."
He composed some songs in kivila
As a big call to some bavila who thought
the mother tongues of other folks
were better than theirs.
He sensibilized some young Bavira
to join him to fulfil his vision.
They could sing and dance
culturally
To portray their culture
Wide Worldly.
Later on,
there were some bavila musical
orchestra groups " Kyalalo and Tanganika Muzika"
which were founded following his steps.
He is one of the promoters
of the Bavira musical rhythm
and dance known as "Makina Kalanzi"
When God called Mapendano Mukevi
many bavila cried to loose him
And wished him to rest in peace.
Every one's perception is their individual reality,
so how many truths can there possibly be?
And "how can the truth set one free", if one
lives in denial based on unreality?
Living different lives, with unique experiences,
varied emotions, separated culturally, and
geographically by vast oceans.
Is it even plausible to find that common thread
that binds our humanity and takes us out of our head?
Club nocturnal
In Bilbao, on a warm evening, he walked past a nightclub
walked in and had a beer; he could have gone to
a Guggenheim Museum and be culturally minded, absorb
and mention it later in a passing conversation, “the other
day at the Guggenheim.”
At the club, a group of people sat drinking affluent bubbly
wine, thinking it was champagne, the group laughed a lot
and apparently had a fine time, although, he thought they
were a bit frenzied about the fun
The people around the table didn’t look prosperous and
the women looked like office tarts, with too much lipstick and
mascara, flashing eyes and giggles.
He knew (had been there) that the one footing the bill
would feel dreadful in the morning, sensing the futility
an ice cap on sagging shoulders of hopelessness.
No, it was not the drinking, real drinkers do not frequent
nightclubs, but drinking at modest places, was about feeling swanky
a man about town.
He paid for his beer and complained about the price
the waiter pointed to a pricelist hanging high on a wall, so there!
Along the boulevard, he bought newspapers went to a café,
had some wine and spent hours enjoying himself.
I loved to play 'Cowboys and Indians'
My favorite book was 'Little Fat Policeman'
I really enjoyed a good minstrel show
Desi Arnaz Jr's accent made my laughter grow
Today I'd be a fat-shaming racist
who culturally misappropriates to boot
Back then I was just another 'normal kid'
in his designer white-privilege suit
visit Rue du Faubourg
culturally diverse Parisian Street
culinary delights every direction
croque monsieur
marron glace’
la malbouffe’
follow the locals they know where to eat
savvy street smart foodies
FEELINGS
a
very
reflective time
unfolding
a strong
sense
of
being
cherished
nerves
raw
&
exposed
&
yet
sympathetico
co
to
intellectual
development
patient
desires
in
culturally
frank
innocence
&accomplished
receiving
chimed
rising
tides
on forgotten
times
CHALLENGES
a touchstone
so
familiar
its
beauty
falling
shadowing
the ego
a natural
rarity
in
a
perfect
range
of moods
sombre
to facile
to
illustrate
complling
connotation
of the
unconscious
sonorous
&imposing
a
cascading
momentum
in
exact
equivalence
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
The words ‘God did’ is a general phrase
Looking at it we need to remove the haze
This investigation might amaze some and alarm some
The phrase ‘God did’ is used worldwide
But will often collide with the sole truth revealed in the Bible!
Culturally used
It is often abused to appease
The convictions of the mind!
Often when you do bad
You want to find ways to do good to overstep the bad!
Then, you feel mentally better
This is often seen in many of the letters Paul wrote
The Bible is very clear that no one comes to God the Father
Except through Jesus Christ!
Jesus cannot be bypassed and
Many today are doing it so they give credit to God
For stuff, He did not even do!
They never specify his name!
This is a common error
The terror of trying to bypass Jesus
Will be felt in the aftermath!
‘God did’ vs ‘Jesus did’
Will play out until the end of time!
Any individual of any culture can use the phrase ‘God did’
And it refers to God in their cultural context
So for those serving God, the Father
Remember that Jesus did…
Mark Frank
Copyright 2022
I am African, I affirm that i am Original African
untainted, unblenched, unsoiled.
I am African,
with all the dignity of the first human.
unashamed, unbowed, undaunted. I am African.
unique, culturally so.
I am from the people whose origin birthed all others,
the first creatures of Earth.
I am African,
Boldly I declare,
with this strength and sinews affirming,
though they obscure my origin with fabrication,
and contorted the fact with lies,
Yet, my spirit aligning with the truth undeniable, I am African.
Though the glare of calumny opposes,
and unvoiced spite rent my melanin,
I stand unfettered declaring, I am African.
unrestricted traversing the globe,
from this climes to India,
I carry beauty across continents
sowing seeds everywhere.
I bore the heat unblenched.
I retain the goodness of Gold.
This sun does not affright.
it leaves no particles with the scourge.
When you see me touring the Land with strength,
Remember,
I am African.
Poetry notebook in my jittery hand, I vacillate
what if she finds it dull… obtuse…
beneath her... culturally insensitive?
What if she laughs at its pathos,
groans at its length,
smirks at its earnestness?
As I begin to falter, I ask myself
(denying all the aching echoes of indifference)
how much could it possibly hurt if she doesn't like it?
Could I ever forgive myself if I chicken out?
As my internal arguments fire torpedoes at each other,
she begins to walk away.
Incensed at my cowardice, I detect a gravitational pull
impelled by the bonfire of urgency
lit by a lightning bolt of past meltdowns
I take a step of infinite unknowingness, and clear my throat
"Hi, I'm in your writing class…
might I ask for a brief moment of your time?"
...silence.
She glances at my poem, then stares into my eyes -
stretched between two souls is an imaginary tightrope
leveling her balancing pole, she slowly smiles…
"I thought you'd never ask"
written 15 Mar 2022
To hear some tell it our country is going to pot
They say the way it used to be, we’ve all forgot
As for me, I cannot say it has changed that much
I make my freedom; perhaps I am out of touch.
The times I think change somewhat naturally
But I am still the product of who I am culturally
I believe in telling the truth, unpleasant as it is
Some want to listen to the “big lie,” big lie ‘tis.
Isn’t it time we learned the truth of our history
Unmasking all that is enshrouded in mystery
Learning to deal with the life we’ve been handed
Instead of a life by malcontents’ colors branded.
Everyone has a right to their own way of thinking
Declaring everyone “woke” as a cop-out is stinking
I am not the product of a particular political party
I am the product of a good mind—hale and hearty!
written July 30, 2021
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