white enclaves
gated jails
urban slums
where the sun is pale
two sides of a coin
can’t you see
in the land of the grave
and the home the rich flee
I was born in a muddy time
created to be a field of broken bricks.
Years wove their weeds.
There was hope,
enclaves of suburban heavens
old men in grim pubs spoke of.
You might think
that I pulled myself together,
dug my boots out
of that land of bitter muck.
Not I,
I killed the weeds only,
carried still, the rubble and smut
inside my belly for decades
only to give birth to an inner life,
small green shoots I then replanted
in earthenware pots,
tokens left on the bare platforms
of railroad stations
Three 'Palestinians' murder innocents
three Jewish women in cold blood
Then dance on rooftops and in the street
where fellow bullies and cowards nightly meet
When murdered themselves
in a targeted assassination
Their 'PA' government cries 'Revenge'
against Israel's 'aggressive operation'
O, when will the world open its eyes
to confront these egregious Arab lies
To forever wipe out Palestinian terror enclaves
Let innocents sleep in their beds ~ not blood-stained graves
Howl fir tree, the cedar is fallen
From this narrow lane of time,
from this uncertain strait and burdens
from these enclaves of wearying vanity fair,
from this time bound journeying among mortals,
from its temporal “Joys” and many sorrows,
from pain of fickle frame,
from the cheers and Jeers,
from time to time innumerable,
from mortality to immortality,
from Death to Life beyond.
this Jordan in-between,
here i mourn before my time,
but in Hope beyond the grave,
Through the everlasting covenant,
Left with your memories,
Rest Maami,
Adieu.
Dedicated to the priceless gift of providence.
The Best Mother to walk this earth.
Floating embers swivel golden flames go up
towards marked enclaves a midnight sky
skywards and onwards the stars and moon await
Ambulance chasers
have morphed into
Civil Rights Attorneys...
salivating at the gurneys – a big
paycheck a chance to obtain,
making a living by inflaming
already blood-red, fiery pain –
Compounding perceived
prejudice -- hate; propagating
color-division...though good
blindness has been of late
on many lips and in loving sighs
contradicting rank media allies
(conspiring enclaves – perpetuating
malicious, racist lies)...
manipulating facts for
evil purpose; they are
the “Mess” in cesspool...with
only one rule, win at all cost,
and a healthful society though
not so gullible as they think
forced to wade through
foul sewage
a shyter's manufactured
legal stink....
Storm-tossed tempest, foaming waves,
fluid furor, drowns the brave,
surge waters from the hurricane
breaks breakwaters men have paved.
Swirling maelstrom, fast winds rage,
through the trees their howls rave,
roofs fly off seaside enclaves,
fools who stayed will know the grave,
comes to claim both good and knave...
Concrete and steel might be saved,
even then it’s a close shave,
oceans never do behave,
Poseidon laughs from his sea-cave.
Her dreams entangled in twisted ropes
perturbed fate of banished desires
innocence shriveled in raging fires
they haven't known her bubbling hopes.
Her existence exhausted in spiral cobwebs
blazing her world in exploding scars
yet wounded faith reaches soothing stars
in her festering pain from tides to ebbs.
Her harmless thoughts chained in fears
seemingly offensive to societal norms
will find an abiding shore through storms
history screams the truth over her tears.
She immerses herself in fearful showers
hurtful memories drowning her rugged mind
beneath oceans of paranoia she will find
enclaves of scarlet heavenly augmented powers.
Her frozen blood begins bubbling her cries
simmered courage sprinkled in layered hues
crushed valor floats in mellows of ashes to fuse
beyond afflicted pain in freedom she will rise.
Divinity reflects through her crystal eyes
splashing colors of flaming crimson tune
perfumed kindness drenching sapphire dune
she dusts her wings, like a Phoenix she will rise.
July 31, 2020
Be Inspired Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
~Premiere Contest Winner: 2nd Place
Living in white enclaves
Insane dreams they are secure
Till a twelve gauge points
Into their prayerful direction
Losing body sensation
God, please be their salvation
June 26, 2020
4pm PSTB
Poem# 1,316
The dimples on your cheeks
Like matching enclaves
On opposing sides
Of a massive, naturally formed
Rock formation in Arizona
Those Dimples are my home
I can spend endless hours
Tracing the cliffs
Tracing the walls
I sleep here as well
I am just a small pest
Just the right size
For those dimples are also my bed
I sit in them like a recliner
Positioned like a cursive J
To the corner of your mouth
I drink the water from your lips
While I await the first droplet of coffee
From then on, I spend my day
Exploring the formations of your mouth
Bare hand climbing up your lower bicuspids
Base jumping down to your soft pallet
Bathing in the salivary geysers under your tongue
In the evening, I return to your dimples
There is nothing like home
I use a stray strand of hair as my rope
I settle into the corner
Without a blanket
The fire burning in my heart
Keeps me warm through
The Cold desert night
FATE
See this wonder that enclaves our heart,
The song we sang as the Israelites in need of king.
That Change became our daily slogan.
Yes we need it, oh it must be in earnest.
In their time they called for revolution.
This period, it amounts to a treasonable offense.
Like the woman in the advice of Solomon
Lured us to their feast.
The sickness they have said to be healed.
Has prevailed on us that what ought to be the last resort is their strength.
Why and why has this loin come on us?
We eat crumps in the midst of wealth.
And our head is not safe offshore the land.
What have we done that this yoke is laid on us
Even this favour could not lure his Uncle to solve.
It amazes me how a lawyer as him could be so interested in this man.
Our hope is lost even in the man we cherish to found it.
This is so astonishing for us to be slaves in our land.
Dear great divine, in your trust we are
For a Passover against this that has made itself our fate.
© Olorunleke Olorode
This All Could Be
AtTractions of the urban surfer,
ExHibits at the shored enclaves,
AbIde the faithful their sole journey,
BaSking rays of summer's retreat,
CoAstal clutter of crowds roll on,
CeLebrities of the day made true,
LuLled breaks in surf even the tide,
NeCks swivels as eyes scouts the beach,
GoOd times are roaring inland,
MoUnting waves indulges the brave,
DeLving surfs stirs the underwater sands,
DaD's and mom's diligently relaxed a tad,
InBounds revitalize the distracted weary,
EvE set in submission of the day's exchange.
2019 September 04
*3rd Place*
Pick A Title, Vol 8 - Acrostic
~~Edward Ibeh
3. This All Could Be
A WORLD AT WAR Pt1
Dark sad clouds and shadows
reflections.
Life-less structures of destructions,
suffering, remaining, living, surviving,
within evil controlled constructions,
as satanic slaves in zombie enclaves.
Earthly surrounds, just history grounds,
memories of mankind piled in mounds,
signs, words evil, live,
a riddled reverse of an ugly curse,
as if life so diverse.
The will of nature will be to finish,
it's suffering stain and relinquish,
earth's time line, will no longer extend,
rotating in warning to the universe,
God may send a Karmic curse,
for the evil of mankind wars
closed to the universe, the earthly doors
What yonder lies beyond the Moon and Mars
in cosmos dark beyond the distant stars;
a beauty in the universe serene,
by mortal man, a beauty never seen.
What myst’ries lie in nature’s vast enclaves
beneath the ocean’s undulating waves;
within the darkest depth’s unknown to man,
a beauty hidden since our time began.
Throughout our lives we set out on this quest
to find these hidden treasures nature blessed;
somewhere within the universe mystique,
we hope to find this beauty which we seek.
Perhaps if we look deep inside we find
that beauty lies within our hearts and mind.
July 1. 2019
Trees outside are raging
anger screams through
branches down to leaves
twigs chastise twigs
As bark grumbles
rough emotions
suppressing the trunk
seeking the root of the problem
Burrowed deep between toes
of saplings
treasures hide
or terror manipulates
Trembling in the darkness
earthen enclaves
soiled decisions pending
new growth awakenings
Tentatively tentacles
reach and entangle
twine and talk
awareness grows stronger
Groundbreaking visions;
appear as sunlight
warms this destination
and life again begins
***
Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White
December 3 2017
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