“Wreck ashore! Wreck ashore!” came t’ cry on t’ wind,
Lanterns lit quick as t’ dark rolled in.
Steady on wi’ thi crates — them crabs an’ Welch’s near!
‘Tis whiskey this — nee chance it’ll spoil in ‘ere.
Rain an’ wind can’t find us here,
Sea maybe… but we’ll sup wi’ cheer.
These caves lead straight t’ father’s hoose,
An’ more beyond to hide these fruits.
Lantern sways on dripping stone,
Bottles clink as up we groan.
Scraped bloody knee an’ t’ elbow ache,
Forgotten soon wi’ profit make.
Tha whines an’ bawls cos tha’s lug crates,
Twelve bottles o’ nectar — tha’ll thank me, wait!
“Easy now lads, keep t’ lantern low —
Up t’ bolt-hole sharp we go.”
‘Tis salvage this, not looting mate,
Pulled from out them vicious waves’ gate.
Straw spills soft as t’ crate we crack,
Golden smell comes drifting back.
Eeh, t’ excise’ll come — nee doubt o’ that,
Sniffin’ round like dockside rat.
T’ excise searched caves an’ barns galore,
Yet weddings rang on t’ village shore.
Excise Exercise 2:
In a wasteland
decision is a choice.
Faced with Life or Death
makes progress clear-
What are the options?
Face the Fear of both.
One brutal truth.
Find love's survival hope.
Cut off black poison.
Amputate the hate
that cast love out of reach.
Gangrene was never the colour of Peace...
In a wasteland,
Green is the colour of Relief.
Nestled in undulating dunes,
crystal clear the clarity that dispels
myth's mirage shimmy shake
Faith is a caravan-
Tuareg Blue and White.
Waiting out duststorms.
Burnt Umber.
Brief.
Aqua M Pen Umbra Poetry.
27 January 2024.
Choose to live.
127 hours. A story of survival.
"To err is human."
To err is to miss the point.
The world is so attached to this perceived device
Lost is the romance of rolling the proverbial dice
What would it be like; if we remembered to entice?
Instead, we only tax each other to a ruined excise
Until all our souls breath is cold as new formed ice
Seeing impurities; in the aspects that we are precise
Most are shown to have spines akin to the ghosts of mice
Our days spent trying to quantify our life's value price
Seeking to achieve a version of paradise
All while searching for an unattainable entitled slice
Without giving an offering to self-sacrifice
No real effort to make the world better will suffice
This verse with judgment; am I withholding advice?
Peel back the lamination of this to reveal its true gneiss
Questioning; who do you know; would you ever think twice?
Swimming times river, looking for every-ones; selfish vice
We've come to pay our last respects -
So hard to know what to say next.
It's just harsh truth that we excise
As we convey our last good-byes.
When words alone don't help us grieve
We search for what we can believe.
While facts can foster dissonance,
Emotions field a false defense.
When hate and willfulness combine
Coarse words and actions fall in line
And set the stage for tragedy -
No time to think with clarity.
Teens roaming free with time to spend
Devised a "hit" - with guns from friends;
A drive-by aimed to score revenge
For some "wrong" pride pledged to avenge.
As neighbor's child went out to play
Stray bullets took its life away.
The "mean streets" were its enemy
But grown adults refused to see.
The tales that trend the evening news
Do little more than to confuse -
With homage paid to ad hoc views
They paint a scene with changing hues.
But, we see in their mothers' eyes
An anguished look - they realize
Such grave events can't be reversed;
That day relived as truly cursed.
Excise our non self
free ego belligerence
full hearts wide open
a psychological exercise is
not...
a cycle-logical exert of
eyes...
it be a philosophical excise of a
knot...
a full-loss-of-fee
free...
for extra eyes...
stan sand
I want to spend my life under the covers
They drape over me
And live up to their name
There are monsters out there that are out to get me
As soon as I take these covers off
So I try to bring them with me
With a sweatshirt
Or a blanket
Once I leaned over in a shirt
But it is never the same
Until I excise these demons on my chest
I'm under the covers
I stay
No one will see
Fight Back
I brush my tongue every morning,
scrape bile with paste,
and flush the lingering venom
into the bottom of the sink.
I do not want to shrink you with mouth odour.
I suppose you tame your bushy attitude
with Caesar's blade,
in the hands of surgeons
who excise the tumour of ego.
Some from winter come; some from harmattan come,
breaking my marrow,
to use my fat as a sacrificial offering
to their airy gods.
Fight back when the world rolls upon you like Persian wheels.
Fight back when they seek to crush the Spartan in you.
Be pregnant with anger and contempt,
and deliver your wrath upon those
who would skin my pigment
and refurbish it with servitude, subjugation, and destitution.
~ Uche Chidozie Okorie
With a smooth cut,
I cut sweetly
the silence...
The word to be extracted
with precise technique ...
The poem per se
it doesn't sprout or bleed,
excise surgery is necessary
to abduct it from the shadows
My mom has surgery this afternoon, a hysterectomy, to remove cancer. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you!
He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” Mark 5:34
STORMING THE ROCK
such lonely life in the dumplings,
clingstone as a cancerous mass —
robotic fingers
like a precise hurricane
must excise, smooth out, set straight
12/15/2020
From wikipedia: Clingstone is a house built in 1905, perched atop a small, rocky island in an island group called "The Dumplings" in Narragansett Bay, near Jamestown, Rhode Island. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clingstone
for all the teachings that help me learn
for all the knowledge that help me grow
thank you and goodbye,
God has open my eyes to the new world of possibilities,
i have learn to love and honour my roots. I have learn to be me even if,
the world is against it.
i have learn that hate destroy your peace and block you for your growth
but, I need to go where i will excise my gift, where my destiny lies.
Good bye old life hello new journey
IF YOU PULL A LONG BREXITING FACE : XLIV – 44
IF you pull a long-twisted Brexiting face
Pulled three more years by Santa Theresa May
« Eyes » to the Right and « Nose » to the Left gaze
Is the fate of phase after Letwin amendment delay
If you pull a long-pained Brexit-fixit-now face
Deal or No-Deal come yet what the Devil may
Scoff at Benn Act to be torn apart in court case
Set then precedence in Case Law if PM won’t obey
If you still keep pulling that long Back-Stop face
Stick foot in the slamming EURO door to stay
Le Vieux Continent put-off by antique grimace
Would Mary Queen of Scots excise Henry VIII’s UK
If you then pull the long borderless Irish face
Migrant mice will grow fat on illicit trade mellée
Till the microbiote in the innerns all borders efface
And the Brexit Isles will split asunder in dismay
Then if you pull the long put-together fallen face
Towed across the Atlantic moored as the 51st to allay
The fears of Norman Conquests taking over the States
Guess who foists upon the World the Union Jack – Hurray !
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 19, 2019
BOLD BUCCANEER
A wicked and bold buccaneer,
Patrolled the high seas with no fear.
The kings excise men
Tried time and again,
But never got anywhere near
9th April 2019
Pirate themed limerick contest
Sponsor - Tania Kitchin
Undertones
Underpinned
My 9/11
was his
introduction
into the world
we live in.
Mass shootings
Overtones
Overly enumerated
a shoulder shrug
Life goes on
But, does it really?
We want cures for
cancer
but won't
excise
the tumors
of our thinking
He's gone
I'm still here
undertow
with overflow
of life's deeper
meaning
Expel the bile; quench it at source
Excise the cause; bite it right off
No other way; no other course
Do it now; dump the stench in trough.
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