as man's knowledge abundantly grows … worldwide wisdom further depletes
from the conch
whispers come
dissect
distract
blow upon
scintilla branch to intrinsic thought
weighed down
consumed
overwrought
mattering - so magnified
that I can't turn away my eyes
reach for able hand to soothe
what dread could deed undo, disprove
kisses stolen
by long lost words
explored lactic fallacies
become absurd
til endings are not the body expired
but exposure of every cell and every wire
cathartic grip held in awe
control depletes as hem and haw
til sadly swings
and bridges to shame
call time
I must
on the lugubrious game
The new normal says:
to pluck a flower without getting in trouble,
do it from a bunch,
'cause the crowd covers the action;
it retains the innocence.
A lie—
a masked tool,
surrounded by many words,
easy to make anyone a fool.
Best way to present any stupid thing cool.
But when it embeds on our tongues,
so sticky,
it won't leave.
Who first needed it?
Why couldn't truth fit?
Perhaps it's the fear
to see those expressions
when they hear
what the actual words are.
They might find it sour.
But the actual event is uncarved;
no one knows what truly held.
Why not serve a different tale
everyone wants to willingly hear?
The plan succeeded.
No one knew.
It felt like a weapon;
the word spread among a few.
The legacy continued.
"It's self-defense," they argued.
Reality depletes,
the façade highlights.
No one can prove
if you lied.
O, shooting star, I welcome you
'neath tattered hills and vulkum dunes
I pierce the sky, sweet butterfly, and I sing, on...through...
O, shooting star, please light the way,
I fear the promises of the coming days,
My bed is worn, my arms decayed
O, shooting star I Gayleyleye
The evening breeze that I foresee continues to empower me
I hear the voice, I spread its wings, 'til life and death depletes--
I gaze away, these seeds of change, and echoes loudly as though I'm gay
O, how freely, oh how freely, oh, freely, oh, how freely oh, how freely I hold..
O, shooting star, I welcome you
'neath tattered hills and vulkum dunes
I pierce the sky, sweet butterfly, and I sing, on...through...
O, shooting star, please light the way,
I fear the promises of the coming days,
My bed is worn, my arms decayed
O, shooting star I Gayleyleye
The evening breeze that I foresee continues to empower me
I hear the voice, I spread its wings, 'til life and death depletes--
I gaze away, these seeds of change, and echoes loudly as though I'm gay
O, how freely, oh how freely, oh, freely, oh, how freely oh, how freely I hold...
She has two sports
the elder proclaimed
Only he of Two Spirited
Understanding shall
Claim her
She is both loved
And not liked
Beyond those who See's
Her for coupling.
His first sport shall love her
as he is a man.
His second sport shall
be disappointed that
She too is two spirited
If both sports aren't
In sync with one another
His wants and needs shall
Clash with hers.
_---------------------------------------------
53 sheep have been
Flown to there demise
By the sacred eagle
The farmer may only
Watch as his flock
Depletes from day to day.
___________________________
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Branding the cheeks of the
athlete, might he wear the
Feathers of the sacred eagle.
The thing is:
if you don’t water flowers—
they wither.
If you don’t feed the soil—
it depletes.
If you don’t replant—
nothing grows.
Love is no different.
You chose the plot.
You chose the labour.
You chose
what lived—
and what didn’t.
Unbound and uncaged
Every day is a flight day
The eyes see no obstacles
The night swiftly comes
The fountain of youth depletes
Young hearts don’t see the rainbow
October 2, 2025.
Just Two in One Spree Poetry Contest,
Nette Onclaud.
A broken heart easily destroys
The very essence of any man
Nothing depletes him any faster
Then what a heartbreak can
It will waste no time stealing
Everything a man has to give
Including his pride and dignity
And even worse his will to live
His friends will grow distant
Not because of his frown
But because they are scared
That he will drag them down
When he has nothing left
And is labeled as a bum
Even his family creates space
Ashamed of what he's become
The one's he thought cared
They no longer come around
He will be lost in his own life
Wishing that he will be found
He's filled with pain and misery
His life becomes a living hell
And nothing he does will help
Him escape heartbreaks spell
Twist off the cap
Lay it in your lap
I'm your favourite beverage
Take a sip of your leverage
I give catering a double meaning
Leave the flavours of my heart overweening
Soft or alcoholic
Was your love for me hyperbolic
Do I leave you dreary in the streets
Every step your awareness depletes
Or do you look forward to tasting me again
No longer a recipient of your disdain
There's something unhealthy about this
Is it a below the surface narcissist
I'm starting to think that person is me
But is that what you want me to see
I can't figure out why I'm all out of sync
Feels like I don't know what I think
But I can recall how I feel
And how much of my joy you steal
There's silence now as I'm ignored
The auto response to any discord
My resolve depletes as time ticks on
I crave all hostility to be gone
Round and round the cycles goes
As I ponder if this is the life I chose
Guard your peace,
Learn not to entertain negative people in life.
Some situations will test your patience and
try to make you respond to things that depletes
your positive energy!
Guard your peace,
Stop fighting what doesn't add value to your life.
Remember, negative energy will never yield
positive thinking and feeling in life!
By Chipepo Lwele
19/02/2023
Innate pull to unite with source,
without employing use of force
compels us to pause in mid flight,
discerning unending delight
is found only betwixt bliss beats;
heightened joy that never depletes
and so whilst immersed in life’s flow,
we choose to make our thought pulse slow
by holding still our attention
in void centric meditation.
02-December-2022
Tick-tock and then chime;
Our life-clock beats
Our precious time out,
As it slowly depletes.
No-one can know when
Their own 'clock' will stop,
Will it end on a tick ...
Or will it end on a tock?
Each hour on the dot
Our clocks clearly chime,
To remind us all
Of our passing time.
Use your time wisely,
For ye know not when,
As engraved on the sun-dial;
On the church at St Wenn.
Season of refreshing
The dead spring up alive
Their faces brighten up
Hope permeates the landscape
Beauty climbs to the top
Season of refreshing
The dying receive strength
There is a quantum leap
A brandish of colours
All expect a good reap
Season of refreshing
There’s an awakening call
An upsurge in fervour
Gloom rescinds and depletes
Pleasure meets endeavour
April 15, 2022.
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