Through the past, winding
Its housed streets do wend.
Apt then, as the year ages
Track down, while descend
Autumn, its charm-enhancers
Sunday romancers.
Air, whose mouldy tang
Appeals! Kerbed; wall-hung.
Faint hazed, whilst smokily breathe
That to Time's own clung
As wood burns, up and down there
Old world's atmosphere.
melbourne suburb
Mood-enhancers
For their music.
Mind-entrancers
Time slows; then stops.
That voiced sweetly
In rock-skipped brook.
As wee, feebly
Recall. Sad plops!
One, as girlish
Whom once, greeting
Street-leapt, a-swish
Hint of love drops.
Light skin, fair skin
All clamoured for by
Creams to the rescue
Fading creams, toning creams
All bleaching creams
Women and men, old and young
all clamouring for light skin.
Looks enhancers
creams a dozen to a penny
Melanin, so disdainful
Ebony black frowned upon;
Beauty markers haven chosen.
Women and men, old and young
All allured to the illusion that;
that beauty is in faded skin
that beauty is in toned skin
that beauty is all bleaching
Creams a dozen to a penny
Enmity with melanin;
Alas the elbows,
the knuckles and
the ankles all but
refuse to bow; shaming the rest
of the body
Patches here and there;
Skin colours so unreal.
Colour and beauty tip gone astray;
Under skin in a state of agony
Damage done is a done deal.
Real beauty is natural
Ebony skin can't be faked
Light skin is Society's call.
(Written in the year 2015)
A sign posted in front of the library tells of
no internet service available - good heavens what to do?
the rain has waned the sun is coming on which lends
a never be daunted air and so I mosey on over
to Tompkins Square crooning the living is easy (well sometimes)
tucking into the park - ah summer city squalor
please step aside I think as I plonk down on the bench
in front of a towering tree that provides a splash of graceful shelter.
A freshly planted batch of flowers nearby
and their sweet flickering scent are cleansing the air
as I gaze up at a bluebird who has settled on the magnificent tree branch overhead and proceeds to bestow on me a veritable symphony of musicality-
oh sweet mercy - such an array of notes - abundant blessings abound!
the flowers providing a feast of aromatic bliss while bursting iridescent and the bird of blue rendering the air lyrically alive with gentle sound
while the tree gives one and all the breath of living . . .
I take it in and breathe it in and it is good
dear friends many thanks for fortifying the bone to back
and for suffusing my morning with the exquisite.
And just think they're services are always available
Enantiomers do not make my amphetamine.
No cognitive enhancers do I need.
Don’t bother giving me that crazy Benzedrine.
Imagination was my mind’s first seed.
I need no extra sleep; I’m sufficiently awake.
I”m not depressed; no euphoriant for me!
My needs are met; I sure want nothing fake.
I get high on life and poetry!
April 12, 2019 for Anthony Slausin's "Your Amphetamine Poetry Contest"
What are the things that add Zest to your life,
What moves your heart into Joy,
What kind of remedy mollifies Strife,
What dials you back from Annoy?
Who can you count on to come to your Aid,
Who guides your path on the Way,
Who gives permission to drop bad Crusade,
Who tells you line is Cliché?
Where do you go to find Peace from the noise
Where’s the Love worth looking for,
Where the life lessons that elevate Poise
Where’s Friend who’s not metaphor?
Flavor enhancers do truly Exist
If you would find Happiness
Openness also should grace any list
Always just follow your Bliss.
Brian Johnston
March 29. 2016
We poets are farmers still,
ploughing our mind in the invisible field,
whenever the mind makes the pen wield.
Sowing the seeds of emotion,
in the field of melancholy,
we reap the expression of joy
with our hearts happy and merry.
Gardeners we are to our core,
as we are happy to see our words bloom
amidst the reverberation of “Encores”.
Idioms, our fertilizers,
simile and metaphors, the growth enhancers.
The monsoon, the joy of spring,
when in the winds of expression ,
our joy swings.
Words bearing a new look,
publicity reaping the best
out of our joyous moods.
Our alert mind, the scare crow,
driving the birds of plagiarism away,
helps the expression to bloom and grow.
Again we wait for the next showers,
hoping this time, the day will be ours.
We then sow the time awaited seeds of expression,
with the waves of time, the blooming showers.
Their timed sprout is now,
when you lovers of art,
read it aloud and feel it in your heart.
Oceans started to rise
As polar caps melted
Meteors fell from the skies
The Earth’s surface was pelted
The days grew dark
Radiation was high
Cosmic sparks
Lit up the sky
Religious zealots started fighting
Earthquakes continued to rumble
Mayan cults were uniting
Governments started to tumble
Fear grew rampant
As death counts mounted
Cities were vacant
Safe havens were touted
People looking for answers
As chaos ensued
Religions needed enhancers
Scapegoats were pursued
Prognosticators saying,
“I told you so
The end not delaying
Pray for your soul”
Humanity extinguished
Except for a few
The prepared distinguished
Who knew what to do
A new world was born
In 2013
The old world forlorn
Never again to be seen
The thing with favors is that they eventually
outdo themselves,
Almost like overzealous elves,
One too many favors may deem a person
too obliging,
Sometimes they are enhancers to one
who is conniving,
After a while, favors become redundant,
and they disappear from the memory,
because humans are fickle and lack
camaraderie.
Mirrors reflecting the soul > love enhancers.
It has a certain kind of fame,
Often times considered a tease.
Its purpose has remained the same,
That is--it has no guarantees.
Some have a hidden message to send,
The key is to find it without blunder.
Others are meant for pretend,
Along with those that make us wonder.
There are so many answers,
We may never find.
Even with up-to-date enhancers,
We continue to remain blind.
It will forever be this way,
That is how it remains a part of history.
So at some point in life one can say,
It seems to be a mystery.
I brought myself back from the dead
Like a prodigies creation,
Aggression in my veins instead
of wreck-less speculation...
The surface just above my head
Once vast and so astounding,
Fragile like a spider's web
As it falls down around me...
When I'm breaking through the crest
To free all that's confining,
I patronize the life I left
Since I am redefining...
What it means to rise above
the question or the answer,
To simplify what's to the eye
like optical enhancers...
We all must learn to free oneself
When life seems non-compliant
But my soul will struggle less
If I remain defiant...
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