In the dark she composes,
Bleek from the mind's whispers.
An image in comprehension
Cohabiting with the soul's rhythm
masking a vocal,
So oddly high in pitch, yet a whisper
When voiced.
Yet at that the cranium watches
As enquiries linger at the tip
Of her cebrum, for thee
Who's not ready for quest shall swim
In a cage of self doubt.
Categories:
enquiries, 10th grade, 8th grade,
Form: Free verse
It's not broken, atleast till now
Not the heart but the porcelain cup
With the milk, pure and white
As it was metaphorized with those 'eyes bright'
Enquiries vanished when gazed at those 'eyes right'
As purity sparkled like dazzling light
No matter it's day or the stormy night
All of it crystal clear in those 'eyes bright'
The existence of the same mirage
On pretending faces with many lies
Inviting the unintended rage which never delights
It's far less than enough, when it comes to write
About the urban dust encountered by those 'eyes bright'
Am I right or Am I right?
You too lie with those 'eyes bright'
And hold the mess quite very tight
Staredown exists with diminished sight
And so it's visible in those 'eyes bright'
Categories:
enquiries, longing, metaphor, poems, poetess,
Form: Free verse
Bill Shakespeare is wanted for hate speech,
His study’s surrounded with tape.
The local police were slow to react,
He may already have made his escape.
There’s a chance that he’s gone into hiding
To work on the draft of a play;
Anne Hathaway helps with enquiries:
Where’s old Bill? She’s refusing to say.
She cannot abide the intrusion,
As detectives examine each sonnet,
If she pops down the market she wears a dark cape
And hides her face under a bonnet.
She’s missing the warmth of her husband,
His sensitive hands and dark beard.
She hopes that they’ll soon be together
But meanwhile, her dear Bill’s disappeared.
And Bill’s understandably nervous
’Cause writing these plays is quite hard.
He enjoys married life with his beautiful wife
And his neighbours now call him “The Bard.”
The risks of a long legal battle
Could distract him for over a year,
If the courts rule against his linguistics,
That might end his productive career.
This poem references the emotions of fear, hope and love now that historic scripts are frequently re-appraised - and sometimes condemned - against modern norms and expectations.
Categories:
enquiries, absence, angst, anxiety, celebrity,
Form: Rhyme
The shadows getting closer,
I can now see form and shape.
It's body all hunched, arm's hanging down,
Cloaked in a big black Cape.
It's looking up at my window,
I try to hide behind the wall.
What I can see from my hiding place,
It must be around seven feet tall.
It's just got through the gateway,
But now it's moved out of sight.
What does it want, what have I done ?
It's in the middle of the night.
I want to get out,
But where could I go ?
I'm stuck way out here,
In a place I don't know.
It's coming to get me,
I keep asking myself why?
Please GOD will you help me,
I don't want to die.
It's looking through my window,
Now it's trying at the door.
My body won't stop shaking,
I can't take this anymore.
It's got through to the hallway,
Now it's looking straight at me.
Is it a corpse or a phantom?
I don't know what it could be.
Then all of a sudden,
A blood curdling scream.
I jump from my bed.
It was only a dream.
Ps cottage to rent,cheap rates.
All enquiries to.
Phantom lettings.com.lol
Categories:
enquiries, imagery, imagination, mystery, scary,
Form: Quatrain
Dancing in the Void
Dancing in the void
Sanctuary delighting in the sparks
Welding contemplation to an ever exploding new creation
Flash dancing in transient exploding flickers
Stampeding through transient ethers
An arabesque leaping from opaque to lucid
Elegant grace unclothed in transparent cabrioles
Of eloquent staggering bliss in currents
Flowing visceral electricity
A revelry revealed in electric leaping caprioles
Charged with revelation
In flaring truth often viewed with eyes half closed
Illuminated luminosity embraced
On a stage where stoic suspended anticipation
Finally emerges to be energized -
Artistic synchronicity -
Where leaping quandaries, charged dark enquiries
And ascending aspirations for moments of beauty
Pirouette in soaring surges
Dancing in the void of veracity uplifted.
8-10-21
Contest: The Void
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Categories:
enquiries, inspiration, life,
Form: Free verse
I was traveling by the train
Through the glass I could see rain.
Seeing that , many thoughts filled up my brain
I was so drown in thoughts that a series of chaos caught my disdain.
I sought the source of the noise
It was coming from the side of the boys
Honestly speaking, it was a father and his son.
I bet disturbing others was their only choice.
The boy asked him a lot of weird facts
But the dad was a patient ass,
So he answered his enquiries calmly.
But I was so angry that I wanted to punch the boy in his face!
Finally I got up.
I told the dad,"Never mind.....
But I was paused by his shy smile.
He said,"Sorry, he is colour blind."
I was stunned.
My anger and curiosity, like a photo booth,
Were given a Closed sign.
I thought how rudely we confront the truth
Though we are coal like,
Covered by the shadow of misery's black cloth!
I couldn't but choak, and say,"I am sorry,
For both him and my attitude towards the eternal truth....
I am sorry.....''
Categories:
enquiries, poems,
Form: I do not know?
I was lying on my couch resting,
As one tends to do when you have cancer,
When in came our cat with another scraggy cat in tow.
My wife was the first to notice this scraggy cat,
That had recently started hanging around,
Which I had asked my wife not to encourage.
There was our cat and the scraggy cat,
Right beside the couch just sitting there,
And staring at me.
I freaked out and shooed the scraggy cat out,
Which I now kinda wish I hadn't,
As later enquiries established,
That the cat belonged to a family down the road,
It was very old and suffered from cancer.
Now my wife suggests that our cat brought the scraggy cat around,
To take my cancer from me,
A scenario that leaves one wondering,
As there are more things in heaven and earth,
Than we could possibly imagine.
Categories:
enquiries, angel, blessing, cancer, cheer
Form: Narrative
He Knows Best
No, I wont cry anymore
I got my eyes red and sore
My heart drained to the core,
Its strained.
Its tiring, how
I've been enquiring
Endless pleas
I'm sure they floated out of Milkyway to some place they filter pleads
Where they weigh their worth against gold
Guess I wasn't found deserving
Thats why the cold
Hold
There should be a reason why they bloom in spring
Winter they shade
Death a moment
Life a phase
Night a rest
Day a test
Thats why the seasons
I need no more reasons
I know He heard
For much I earned
After all He knows best
My love first
Christ the Lord
Categories:
enquiries, emotions,
Form: Abecedarian
The isle between two worlds;
To the right, the door leads into
The colony of jovial foes, vibrant city
Lights generate petty love
Among covetous souls.
The door is left ajar,
I'm standing outside, a loner
keeping his distance but sneaking
a peek every once and a while
just to make sure he still doesn't
want to come in.Hatred. Malice.
Greed. Pettiness. Self-deception
emanating from blinding
artificial lights. Observing
and hating all this and more,
but never enough
to either get in or close the door.
THe middle hurts, the middle
enlightens, but there is never
enough light so that you can be
found. Even when it happens, you're
frightened. But then
To the left, the door reveals
A secret known even to those
on the other side, but to arrive there
you have to immerse in the middle.
Nobody wants to come in here, a few
that do end up here become flabbergasted,
their frisky faces turn pale,
conspicuous smiles become vacuous, if not
faded.A glance out of the corner of your eye
is enough to make you obsessed.The latter side
is where you want to give yourself away.
No enquiries, no questions asked.
Unconditional presence of pure love.
Categories:
enquiries, introspection, metaphor, society, symbolism,
Form: Free verse
From lugging heavy boxes in a distribution place,
To taking pinewood coffins to a so called place of grace.
From melting from the heat from six till half past three,
To eating currant buns and drinking nice hot cups of tea.
From hassle from the bosses; there are far too many of them,
To driving around in solitude, with no one to shout your name.
From stitching machines and printing machines on the shop floor,
To making personal enquiries at some brand new prospects door.
From being driven crazy by the boredom of the job,
To have the joy of being able to earn a few more bob.
From the pittance of a wage that was forever small,
To a salary that makes you feel almost ten feet tall.
From the humblest of positions, in a factory set-up,
To driving bones and bodies to the hospital make-up.
From this most unusual tale, I'm sure you've got the notion,
That if you leave the factory, it's sure to be PROMOTION.
Even a funeral assistant gets twice as much or more,
Than all of these workers on this factory shop floor.
So Neil we wish you all the best in your new position,
There won’t be any hassle because it's just DEAD opposition.
Robert Cartwright-Davidson
Categories:
enquiries, change, funny, work,
Form: Verse
A man disappears where abouts unknown
Not at his work not at his home
Days pass as a passer by finds
His right leg in a country wind
Days later his left arm in a ditch
All is quiet, enquiries have hit a hitch
News comes in of a Torso being found
Beside the river on common waste ground
What posses a person to maim this way
As every dog has its day
Policing, forensics in this modern age
Will endeavour to capture this killer of rage
But what do we do when we capture them
Send them to prison as they live like men
A lethal injection, a fair way to put them down
To cleanse rightfully our cities and towns
Through out the world many families have suffered
These crimes of killers and sadistic cowards
We are taxed for our efforts in life as we work
They may never get out, but living is their perk.
Categories:
enquiries, death, husband, loss, sad
Form: Rhyme
The streams deluge is a sweet impromptu
Of entranced embankments deflecting the mass,
Infinite depths are the enquiries, ‘where to’
Jagged, tempestuous perpendiculars, alas
Quantify clandestine with volume I’d muster,
Then rapid becomes and is powerless to stop
Disturbing my sleep and awakening lack lustre,
Gently it beckons to an inevitable drop.
Just as my thoughts ask, ‘where do my dreams go?
How long have I slept here, and how far the flow.
Categories:
enquiries, imagination, nature,
Form: Rhyme