Being criticized by wise
it's totally flattering
tremendously stimulating...
Being criticized for ignorant,
is execration and cursing,
It's almost a death sentence...
Categories:
execration, allusion, analogy, appreciation, creation,
Form: Free verse
Being criticized by sage
it's totally flattering
tremendously stimulating...
Being criticized by ignorant,
it's execration and cursing,
it's almost death sentence...
Categories:
execration, allusion, appreciation, extended metaphor,
Form: Free verse
criticized by wise
it's totally flattering
is stimulating ...
but by ignorant,
is execration cursing,
is crucifixion ...
Categories:
execration, allusion, creation, extended metaphor,
Form: Senryu
A Haiku Poetry On Nature
Sparrow is chirping
dew drops opening eyes
welcome good morning
Food grain production
monsoon brings prosperity
green revolution
Monstrous tsunami
execration of nature
a deserted island
Categories:
execration, nature, spring,
Form: Haiku
Spewing forth contention
All ignorance to compel
Obstreperous yet dastardly
the politicians quell
Negection of poverty
within its own society
Unbalancing the scales of
a nations sovereignty
Execration of innocence
A new age policy
A xenophobic corpulace
of mass conspiracy
Many masks of one shall bare
the fruits through others gains
Bleeding dry good ethics and
leaving honesty in bane
Replacing it with seething spite
Now a flag bloodstained
Disconsolation through mans indignation
Predictions of plight into subjugation
Resulting in a death of a nation!!!
Categories:
execration, death, imagination, loss, philosophy,
Form: Rhyme
A great giant man vanishes from the face of the earth
No help for the hoarse throated cries of his lamenting wife
How will we remember his pastures, like a sea of green?
His children too small to gauze the torment of grief,
Yet how will we remember his sapphire hair and sepia face?
Stripped from the ash of his wall is concealed a hollowness
Felt by the saints, and one flickering, bitter, candle tenders
The execration of his passing.
That sacred sand in whose shadow I have gushed
Gives me pause for he who carried a pocket full of grace
And whose hallowed chalice must have touched the cells of heaven itself.
Oh! How can I reclaim you, restore you, repay you?
MY dancing mercies do not dissolve the blue veil which surrounds
The guilt and warm tears shed for him.
Mass upon mass, benediction upon benediction,
His name celebrated a thousand times
As unseen witnesses regard that great deliverance.
Old and exhausted but uncommonly kind
His white smiles have disappeared.
Without warning save presage from a little box of spells
Resembling many crucifixes on the wall,
And one great stone,
The sky opened up and took him
Like grey smoke rising.
Categories:
execration, death,
Form: Free verse