river
flows in slow strides,
kissing the rocky shores,
to unknown lands, in great wonder.
fetters that bind are broken asunder.
its heart is deluged with a song
waves lap merry along.
songs fill the air.
river
Blinks of teary-filled eyes see on at a diplegic self
yet mindful transparency is willing me back
Back to my body as sinful warning zones
alarming have deluged my mind
Seized are my winks , my signals , codes in tact
I deemed the eye of imagination unkind
The intruder remains faceless knowing anon
I’m entrusted to an astral body and its danger
Spiritual warnings of facultas cognoscitive,
Descartes’ existence of corporeal self, even stranger
I am conscious and sure these be blessings
Or maybe an unconscious of the intueoritive
and what I immediately perceived were passion’s messing’s
with the right amount of awareness to shift
Senses much livelier and much more clear,
lucidly leaving the "physical world" adrift
Diplegic with a clarity of intelligo of an unhinging fear
Practiced, I am using my symbols with inner sight
and a poetic aptitude, my mindset re-sets a dream
A vision appears to me, it appears to be my hand
penning quickly, a dream within a dream, I re-write
the script and scenes which aren't what they seem
On October the 7th, the precarious peace
of the disputed ancient lands began to cease.
The enraged avengers brought the Al-Aqsa flood
that deluged the Re'im music festival with blood.
Then very swiftly came the lopsided response
that decimated women and children at once.
The zionists' war machine sweeps the Gazan land,
rendering its closely compacted earth to flatland.
The Mosques, churches, schools, and hospitals are all gone.
Scores wail uncontrollably aloud as they mourn.
Having no point of refuge, refugees take flight
as they seek for bombshelters with no hopes in sight.
Hamas belligerents their explosive arrows throw
at overwhelmed defenses of an ageold foe.
Zionists with torrential explosives respond
with offensive operations within and beyond.
Oh that the Gaza strip might tranquility know!
Oh that the blood in the West bank would cease to flow!
Oh that Israel would flourish and as a nation grow!
Oh that the warring factions would the seed of peace sow!
Oh that the two warring factions would merry and dance!
Oh that the two state solution was given a chance!
A giant road is emerging. My sandy path
is ready to be swallowed. Gambol, amble,
ramble, saunter, stride… My way knows
a variety of my gaits. This is a stamped
path in my gene as an elephant corridor.
It’s open for the rat snakes, mongooses,
cats, and men. When I lose my way, no
one will come to me. The machine claws
won’t shiver when they pluck my black
plum tree on the wayside. My silence
will be deluged by the motor cacophonies.
The hullabaloos will petrify the birds and
my poetry. The tortoise lying on the grass
with its head inside serenity is unaware of
the imminent doom. Already molded
in loss, I can keep up my sangfroid.
First published in The Literary Hatchet (issue 30).
The first prize winning poem in the Poetry Nook Weekly Contest.
Yesterday I was in the parched, red desert, where it pours only seldom,
Bearing joy for varicolored cacti blooms, a silvery shower, very welcome.
This morning I deluged the green, pathless forest, at the dawn of purple.
Tomorrow, wet footsteps will travel, down the tree-lined street of myrtle.
In wild days of ago, my fervor caused floods, as I danced in dewberries;
Then a soft, yellow sun spun rich gold, making cherries and cranberries!
While there is gladness everywhere I go, my sporadic errors humble me,
Like an errant wind which blows off course, tenacious, golden honeybee!
clouds carry river
rains flood and destruct on earth
land deluged in pain
On the brittle bank of a placid river full of settled silt,
with bricks and mortar of my labor a house I’ve built.
I make it a home in the sunny days with utmost care,
a happy home where lively time stops for me to share,
but nothing is permanent in the world ever transient,
for in the cloudburst it collapses in the river turbulent.
The possessed past crumbles in the debris of despair,
the yesterdays are lost in the maze of pain, I can’t bear.
As I drag the today out of the abyss of an obscure void,
the river recedes with the luster of my life, I can’t avoid.
I now stand homeless and desolate in the deluged land,
in the midst of my ruined time with a few hope strand,
and look at the hollow horizon for the new sun to rise,
I care I search for the tomorrow with dream in my eyes.
Deluged with the nostalgic era of you,
Your lush verdant scent lining
Wistful sentiments upon idle reflections
Scattered in fragments and fine dustings, as
I acquaint myself with futile intricacies—
Devoted to your unwritten absence,
Wandering in a haze of misty wastelands,
While you eternalize your presence in our
Heart of hearts and in the
Cavernous corners of our souls, with the
Delicate air of you—spilling your love—
Memorializing the tidings you’ve nurtured,
Within our once piteous existence,
Endlessly rising in honor of you.
It rained for 3 days,
drenching torrents plunged down
as if a dam had breached.
There was some local flooding
but by and large only minor damage
a lot of litter and flotsam though
‘sky wreckage’ some called it.
The butterfly house was swamped,
its netted walls were ripped ragged
by broken tree limbs,
the seams in the wooden roof
split apart and a wild,
wind-riding rain rode in.
Purple Admirals were beaten down
by the gusting blows,
then drowned.
Painted Ladies were murdered
their mangled decorative forms
no longer cosmetics.
Longwings no longer flew
but in death, swam limply
in the splashing puddles.
A disarray of broken wings
carpeted the deluged floor.
Somewhere in this caged house
sodden chrysalids sway upon fractured twigs;
eventually there will be fluttering wings,
but not here in this ruined shelter
were the air still drips wetly
onto unreceiving
and unmoving antennae.
FRAMELESS
materialised
from shadows
diluted
sonorities
evoke
a
muffled
montage
as
prelude
drifting
through a
world half-awake
on a
promenade
of reverie
images faded
turned
& relinquish
identity
in a flux
of folly
in memory in
deluged
apocalypse
of
multisensory
tsunami
of
spectacular
optimism
Strangers staring, father frowning
as the crickets chirp in the deluged duplex,
Sydney swims towards the stairs,
looks like no water wets here, she said,
father follows further,
where's little Linda? , he heard,
a barking bulldog runs down the slippery stairs.
Sponsor Date. Contest
Joseph May. 19/5/2023. Alliterisen
Strangers staring, father frowning
as the crickets chirp in the deluged duplex,
Sydney swims towards the stairs,
looks like no water wets here, she said,
father follows further,
where's little Linda? , he heard,
a barking bulldog runs down the slippery stairs.
In the heart of colorful autumn, skies were colored, too,
for flaming time was getting older, out in the hilly country.
Springtime's budding charm, lends a certain beauty to old age.
I knew the day we met that we were meant to be
I realized our destiny was set and she was the one for me
She was rich in beauty but poor for she will die with it
Her appearance nonplussed me and I couldn't hold the steerage of my course anymore
She is the one I consented to have on my slender thighs
At that point her pearly lips gave appointments to mine
This lady killed me and roasted my carcass
Leaving the scavangers performing the post-moterm
I walked tall in the genesis of our affair
Now I'm wrecked….
Higgledy-piggledy daughter of a lesser god!
Today, deluged with anger I regret
The day I met this devil incarnate;the mastermind behind the bleeding of my heart
She tattooed my heart with wounds;I no longer have a clean heart
Her friends and her drunk the gushing blood of my wounded heart
That night my heart contorted into painful lumps
But I had to forgive the being that created her and put her in my world
Bitter are my words,she is a nonsense with no sense at all
Daughter of Jezebel-show up on the day I get laid to rest;lower me to the ground,let me down like you always have-stupid creature!Nkt!
John Lenda (Poetic World,2022)
Canyons of loss
emotional wastelands
Spires of hope
grasping for sky
Riverbeds bake
mountains are damming
Feelings once deluged
—barren and dry
(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)
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