I'm unsure of an image popping up in my head
A dot locates alongside a crowd, with a space reserve
Until now, of its decay from the fresh dark to pale light
Which has been started the image once begun to alive
It's been never so sure of that the disparity remained
As a balanced attraction and repulsion needed in-between
It's made affluent independence when the heart flies
Also, so much loneliness if solitude surpassed the edge
I now disclose this picture to let it to be identified
How is it genuine or illusionary generated in rubbish time
Inspired by one witty Nate White, of Britain
I vote him in a year ago
Vainglory man with orange glow
We didn’t have another choice
The country spoke, a single voice
I hate him not, he is the boss
There’s way his power comes across
So much revealed as time goes
For us to find and him disclose
No class, no charm, no wit, but troll
No warmth at all in present role
No wisdom, honor, humor, grace
Insults dispatched when face-to-face
He can be nasty, don’t show soul
He bashes heads to reach one’s goal
Lack of nuance and spite don’t stop
Behaves like bull in china shop
Offensive, crass, with shallow scope
We pray and watch, while harbor hope
For better life and worldly peace
He's mostly driven by caprice
Not man of word, give and withdraw
Commits to Russia win the war
He shakes the world to see what comes
Yet some big plans are yielding crumbs
Ain’t no compassion, noble not
Aims cutting Middle Eastern knot
Amusing? No, this isn’t the case
Who are you, Mr. Orange Face?
August 30, 2025
The watched pot never boils.
The watched clock slows.
The stalked knows,
to watch the suddenly still ones,
that lie moored with anchor bestowed,
just out of reach, wanting, staring, blinking,
in bated breath,
to sneak a furtive peak,
deceptive.
The watcher's silence and stillness disclose
the watcher's deception in plain sight.
The little birdie you hope
will not notice you when you freeze
to take a snap, or secret close-up glance,
is watching you intently.
The watched are watching you,
waiting deceptively on-watch,
as time slows, and
the game of mutual deception,
plays out.
By my garden gate, I pick, for her, one rose -
and mutter, "what will two shy eyes disclose?
If, like light and shadow, they're three times, blinking,
I'll not go to earth's four corners for an inkling,
or five star points, to fetch a jewel, twinkling,
or catch six snowflake-sides-a-sprinkling.
At the seven-colored rainbow's end, will her nose be wrinkling?"
In sixty-five and half years been
Lock-in love with you again
And again, our marriage soft-land
Dreamland at times and times dryland
Those Valentines' gifts counterpoise
Disclose your feelings and expose
Your desire to not reinsure
Anymore your love for me, bore
A heart is broken,
a sad story to tell.
Words remain unspoken,
a spirit suffers as well.
Sorrow brings shadows,
silhouettes of dismal gray.
No secrets to disclose,
in the darkness they stay.
I know not to seek,
the silent answer to why.
A tear falls on my cheek,
but I no longer cry.
I need to find me again,
it has been a long time.
I struggle to regain,
my lost peace of mind.
Though weary, I must move on.
I won't waste another day.
Tomorrow I will be gone,
alone, finding my way.
Our Shadow
Is Our Witness
Miracle Man
10/31/2024
Our shadows are mere reflections of our being,
not something that just appears on a sunny day.
They influence what others think and are seeing,
and often they form opinions that always stay.
In our shadows, the unknown to us, may repose,
Observing each thing we say, and what we're doing.
Then to another, a tongue will quickly disclose,
making known to others the path we're pursuing.
In her Summer garden, grew a white rose
Its delightful scent she fondly admired
How she would cry if her prized rose would die
Poetry about it she did compose
Romantic sonnets of dreamers and love
Her heart's yearning, she would pen and disclose
But unfullfilled her dreams would always be
For no gentleman offered to propose
She abandoned hope of feeling desired
If her prized rose would die, how she would cry
In Winter's snow, her lovely garden froze
Listen to the old trees
as they spread gossip on the breeze.
The faerie fae listen close
to hear what news it might disclose.
Rumors of the Elven kind
are moving through the fields of time.
The pixies with their magic dust
spinkle all as they must.
Enchanted by the sparkling day
even trolls come out to play!
In his hall the mountain king
laughs at all the silly things.
Evening falls and when complete,
the old trees go to back to sleep.
To taste the word illustrious,
you must take your gifts serious;
Write until your soul bleeds;
Break your most inflexible shell,
allow the Muse to shake and swell;
Who knows where it all leads?
Whether to a book or a mic
to your poetry add a spike;
Truth’s what they’ll respond to;
Seeking every solo spotlight,
be authentic and you just might
gain it all right on queue;
Keep all of your ideas close,
only complete do you disclose;
They’ll only see magick;
That is how it’s supposed to be;
The move? Footloose and fancy free,
don’t give away your trick;
Getting lost with the curtain’s rise
each audience loves a surprise;
Smile bright like a misfit,
they’ll interpret not understand;
You’ll want to but don’t reprimand,
Let them all adore it.
No matter the tide, no matter the scourge,
we won't drawn, we will smile forever.
No war or hate, in gains or shame,
I will stand, by your side, all the time.
For we are friends, and you're my friend.
When none is there, I will stand by.
When you're here, I won't fear,
and you're lost, I shout your name everywhere.
So throw me some smile today, while I can still see your face.
I'm not ashamed of you anyday.
you're the only one who calls my rags clothes.
you're the only one who hugs me so close.
For you're my friend, your smile makes me cheerful
You're my close friend, to you I disclose.
You look into my eye and tell me,
I love you just the way you are,
and for this one reason, this is why we're friends.
K.OLWENS
Moonlight pulsates on the sea
and leaves an intermittent glow
of dappled light
these wandering waves of wonder
land on the barren shore
where they soak the sand wet
in a solemn peaceful motion
before vanishing, to be seen no more
they set my mind to rest
to allow undisturbed reflection
from echoes from my past
that linger and meander
on a background of black
where I reflect on my time and years
contemplate its aftermath
the evidence from memories
are naked and exposed
where truth meets illusions
as I walk this lonely shore
with reflections they disclose
Silly things sometimes emanate in amazing success.
Silly people by mistake disclose secrets and confess.
Silly reasons stem a quarrel between a lovely pair.
Silly deeds lovers often perform though their love is fair.
Silly decisions we impose on others is unjust
Silly replies of people which always go beyond trust.
Silly speeches of learned people make us think them insane.
Silly promises of the public leaders go in vain.
Silly, if actors forget their by hearted lines on stage
Silly actions by naughty boys unless teachers engage
PLACE : 2nd
Serene silence, its salient feature
The sapped bodies snug in solitude.
Not a mound of sand and cement.
A structure to showcase our reverence and regard and
Keep them alive through our thoughts, words and deeds.
Do the enshrouded bodies realize how nicely they are carved?
Definitely,not.
Souls satiate when tributes are paid.
Tombs reflect cultures and civilizations.
Tombs disclose unknown facts of royal dynasties.
Some stand as tokens of perpetual love like Tajmahal.
Some are adored,
As they have engulfed the thinkers, torchbearers and preceptors.
It's the end as well as onset of a new life.
Whoever and whatever it is!
Paying tribute to an abandoned soul is the sole cosmic order.
Place: 4
My trust was shattered
when I saw you out last night
hugging that lovely young girl.
Forgive me, my sweet,
for failing to disclose this:
My younger sister’s in town.
Related Poems