Are we prepared to display diplomacy conclusion in el salvador
Are we equated to the residue of our streets at home
While time lapsed beneath the bullets our fireworks burned our shores
Titled day and lived beneath flight
Our cowardice increases as feeding child bites
Taken long, measures of meat
And heel we have not, for catching little speak
Ram as we all visualize is vibrant light, purity, gentle and charming.
Ravan on the other hand is darkness. evil,hatred and always harming
Back in mythology we learned that it can be a choice made by our actions.
We can choose Ram or Ravan and then be ready for the following reactions.
Ram teaches us what it takes to be a real man for he emerged as a warrior even with discontent.
But then the man in Ravan did not allow him to put the integrity of a lady at stake without consent.
The goodness of Ram is always equated with lots of hardships and struggle.
His relationship gives partnership goals and advice to every married couple.
Ravan always lived life on his own terms and never wanted to be judged or alter his state of mind
The footsteps of whom are supposed to be followed has always been a question of debate for mankind.
There is a Ram and a Ravan believe in every individual on the face of this earth.
It depends on situations which make us cross the line or remain down to earth.
It is always equated to hollow and negative emotions.
Sometimes it symbolises winning and a valid vision.
Fire is what I feel inside when I think of my motherland.
It is a feeling of pride to me whenever I take a right stand.
It is the warmth of satisfaction after a busy and hectic day.
Fire is the joy we feel when things work our way.
Time is indeed changeable...
but here, not a reference to
Einstein's Sense equated
for when time ages, it quickens –
looses elements, as an older
body looses functions of
motion, leaps the gaps
between thoughts, unaware
of spaces once consciously
traveled (forgotten the reasons
for places and their dynamic purposes) –
mountains become
dust...
seas become beds
of salt – waves and tides
no longer aware of self's current-memories...
kings and queens
devolve from royalty to fond
myths
Time has no beginning
nor end, outside life's infinite album
creation fills with photos of past, living moments,
and dreams yet to be begotten –
Time began with God
and rests not until His man
The man wondered, "What is hope?"
Metacognition defined, it's nothing but a dope.
The heart objected to the proposition.
And told it's an ambiguous anticipation.
The prefrontal cortex made the reasoning disentwine.
And equated hope with the level of dopamine.
The enterochromaffin cells rejected the cortical rationality.
And signified serotonin's vitality.
Posterior pituitary smiled sarcastically.
And illustrated oxytocin's role affectionately.
The man woke up out of this exasperation.
Though dream, but intrigued by the imagination.
He asked," Is hope just a chemical state?"
Consciousness whispered it's not that straight.
They ask me
What is this about
I say
It way too deep to speak
Laying on bed
Drops falling
Praying my soul
To god he keep
A bucket
For my patience
Yes
I know one
Who had a dream
Now respect is not equated
With loyalty
Too myself I stay true
Quietly built a city in six months
Now in three years
It's true
I'm through
Patience for the press
Relaxation when I need
Tiptoeing over my next move
In myself
I trust
And believe
As pounds of potential, numbers does not make you except the weight you carry
As pounds of potential, numbers does not dictate your actions nor control your mind
As pounds of potential, your mind is neither controlled nor dictated or make you a better or a worse person
Beauty is neither equated or equivalent to the control of your attitude
And as pounds of potential, your actions mean movement as they require energy
Roles have a significant influence of life as those you look up to
As pounds of the ocean, may you live your life to the fullest knowing that pressure nor standards are no part of life
Poet
Masego Nkuna
As we be breathed ;
Woe! Humanity as God has kissed us, yes yet;
As yon Angels embrace us smooth's;
The breathe of life encircles us cause us to move;
We shall not move without God’s life through our nose and mouth;
We each have a breath, yes one for each of us, breathe in breath out;
One soul, one spirit lives in each of us, part;
Just one breath away from live light and deaths dark;
This I’ve equated, as we be breathed! (Inflated)
God's kiss is life's breathe breath
8/17/21©
As we be Breathed Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker |
Fluently
she walked about
Effortlessly flowing
like the rivers tide
like a summer roller coaster ride
she sparkled in grace
the flush blush of her face
Fluently
she walks
hips that talk
legs that interlock
Boy! She can walk
Motions like a rabbit hippity hop
Her mind yet so sharp her thoughts floats like a cloud
And when she sad and she cries tears flow drops like rain
Her hope is never in vain and as she breathes a breath all that is left is the sparkle of her spirit in our heart she knows she's near it
and she substantially abated never equated her life like a river flows
Fluently
4/27/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
As I stared despairingly at the transom,
my daughter declared, as she gave a smile winsome:
“I wouldn’t stand for such a name, if I were Janell!
It’d be okay of course, if Janell refers to the vessel…”
Captain disdain abounds in fields chock-full of chauvinism
A female pursuing a career within must be into masochism!
Put on a brave face girl, and grit your teeth shut
The ponytail pretties better go or you ‘are’ the promoted ****
As seriousness cannot be equated with feminineness,
it is best you strut like you’re swinging two pe!!ses…
Now it’s nice to see more of the younger generation,
accept it’s work and education, not gender identification!
(9/16/20 – Searay 400 sedan bridge; DMS)
There was a divide.
I didn't want to face the truth.
I had absolutely nothing to give to you.
I knew the truth and it hurt.
I had lost the very things
that I equated with social approval and my own personal peace.
I was left with social anxiety.
But you chose me.
Your love is true and sure.
You never lie to me.
You never say, "I love you" but then turn and leave me.
When hard reality sets in and I am very sad,
I am able to read your letters back to back.
I still feel like I am not enough.
I still overthink.
I wonder, "what if" or "why me?"
But that's just me.
If it had not been for the struggle, the futile distractions, and tears,
I might not have ended up in the company of a Father who is present and near.
Pulling A Hackery
By: Miracle Man
1-6-2020
A night spent tossing,
hasn’t equated to rest.
Though I’ll give maximum,
I’ll not be at my best.
Today I’ll feel as if,
a hackery I’m dragging.
By days end my spirit,
will probably be sagging.
I’ll fight through discomforts,
endeavoring not to complain.
Knowing that God is able,*
and that HE will sustain.
I look to HIM for fortitude,
to get through this day.
Trying to be HIS witness,
in things I do and say.
Ephesians 3:20
“Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us,”
The spirit travels
where facts can’t go
Past the borders
of what’s to know
Equated speech,
its truth unrhymed
Dogmatic, to amend
in time
But freedom calls,
its voice impends
One last beginning
—that seeks no end
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)
It's weird how
I still don't know
what to say about him.
Every time that I think I have words
I run out
or
they don't seem suiting
or
they don't seem like enough.
I don't know what to think about him.
Thoughts don't fit him, he just simply
won't
fit.
Every time I think
"Over it"
He hits me with a bag of bricks,
if this feeling can be equated to the weight of a bag of bricks,
which I think it can.
It certainly feels like a bag of bricks.
And that smile.
That smile hits me with ten thousand bags of bricks on its own.
And that laugh.
And for that matter,
the way he says small things like
"wait"
and
"okay, claire"
I just can't help but feel stupid happy when he's around.
Weird, right?
The radio played the day you waltz into this world and an orchestra played love songs in my heart every minute of every day I was with you. The days equated to notes in the greatest song ever written.
The years chorus’s to be repeated as often as possible. Your name tripped off my lips in very conversation regardless of the subject. This is what it feels like when someone as played with your soul. Every song must end even love songs , strings fading into the distance or the words of a doctor on an intensive care unit . But all end.
Like an oyster pearl
One jewel in an ocean
a priceless treasure
28/08/2019 comp entry
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