Love can be a kindling or cool water for war,
it can douse a tinder, or fuel an uproar;
freedom to express is such that one’s voice
ennobles or offends, there’s always a choice.
War gestates in a greedy bosom’s core,
nourished till obese, always wanting more,
tumor of hate, festers like a sore,
corpses in its wake, avaricious carnivore.
Love is the compassionate sailboat’s oar,
fathoms with wisdom the sea's dungeoned floor,
guides the heart toward unprejudiced shore,
then renders decision, with fair, reasoned score.
Too many lives lost for love of country before
going home in a carriage, with medals of courage,
yet too young for marriage, justice’s miscarriage!
Love can be a kindling or cool water for war.
11 February 2016
Categories:
dungeoned, analogy, life, love, war,
Form: Rhyme
truth
The mile ahead the
surfeit of deception
That tables giants
of doom in light
stricken homes
Brings honor in
their company
My hands in air feel
off the swing
Liberty pleasing the
slave
X, wins palatial
favor
prim roses drop from
above
I see doves gather
them with joy
Filling baskets of
freedom rings
All the dungeoned
released
There comes open
homes.
Categories:
dungeoned, truth,
Form: ABC
Have we met before, somewhere
In a crowded train
Where associations like fleeting cars
Carries cramped memories
Were you at some school with me
And learned the contours of my face
It is your eyes, madam
They linger like a slap on me
Behind their curtains I see disdain
Why am I always angry?
Quite to the contrary, Madam, you misread
All my lines
That gravity trenched upon my skin
To plant life's sorrows in
Angry? Not at all
Rage is the helplessness of pity.
Pity then, I feel for every man
Following the coordinates of laws
Like specks on electronic screens
What about my dungeoned culture
And the cremation of its tongue
I sing the song of the vulture now
And hope they understand
Communication is not for me, Madam
I know am sure of what's in my heart
And still can braille a gesture
While things fall apart
The more you speak the more you are concealed
The thicker the veil of self
But I can feel a word pulsing in your heart
It is begging for forgiveness
But, Madam, you won't let it cry.
Categories:
dungeoned, war
Form: Free verse
O my heart, my heart is there tonight
Where hibiscus at the fence side flower the light
Of stars in Verletta's eyes, O I'd write
Her poems if she knew how to read what delight
Queens that stood before a window pane
Where a lonely Knight scribbled sorrow to his gain
But I too polite, set my suite before vain
Any hope now she remembers my name. O fain!
Do you now recall the red dirt school yard
The mocking children around fear, and the boy hard
Put to ignore you there? Day's light discard
The evening in shards of shadows, but my regard
For you in time's journey follows your flight
From the village gate to judges bench, where you fight
The ridicules that wrenched us, and the spite
Self-centered in the ego of children of a moral plight.
O Verletta, I think of you tonight, for you rose
Out of the dingy Mountainside, better justice to expose
While the wrong upon my heart no one knows
This love I bore you, this longing for you undisclosed
To gallants that did a coat romantically spread
Before a queen wh dungeoned them and desired their head
I unlike them would yield all El Dorados to wed
Your dreams to mine, and share the solace of your bed.
Categories:
dungeoned, loveheart, longing, children, heart,
Form: Light Verse