I would not dare
because free speech is no longer allowed
and I fear Trump's S.S.
we never were a democracy
the electoral college forced us to be a republic
now we are a monarchy; bow down to the king
he is following Hitler's pattern book
separating the country
The goosestepping is not far off
Whene'er my old age is on blame,
A few years far off gets than I’m.
As learnt I’ve to push goal,
Thanks to hints from my soul,
My youth whilst sprouts a twig on stem.
______________________
Limerick | 30.07.2025 | youth, old age,
far off memories
like scattered dreams
lie dormant
waiting
to come to life
and haunt
hurt
cause negative emotions
good dreams
where are you hiding
those wonderful dreams
with grand emotions
are you layered
deep within
the recesses of those cogs
where the wheels have not turned
in a very long time?
Listen as the wind whispers
secrets of my lost past.
It howls at my melancholy miseries,
shrieks at my heinous sins,
warning me of a fatal future
that is sure to be my looming last.
My destiny lies in my hands
as I linger in indecision
with your shadow in my heart.
For I cannot stop loving you
I cannot live a normal life
I hunger for food of love,
Only I can find none.
Whither shall I go?
The future is dark and uninviting.
My past is filled with fear,
my present is full of sorrow.
I think of you and my starved heartbeats
in dangerous arterial fibrillation.
I close my eyes in anguished hope
but cannot calm my tattered nerves
as the wind continues with its howls
for winter is sure to extend its days
although I believe and sincerely hope
that sublime spring is coming soon.
He kept seeing vicious black bears in his dreams
And throughout the night his body twist and tossed
In disharmony of victims fights and screams
Spring was chilling with a hint of morning frost
And most days the black bears be hunting the streams
A campsite was attacked and four folks are lost
He saw the carnage wider wider up close
His heart racing with the screams as each one goes
9/22/22
OTTAVA RIMA Poetry
Sponsor-L MILTON HANKINS
N/A
in lobes, winnowed fans
far-off look scans the future
flight of butterflies
tease, tickles eyes, curious
beauty in obscurity
3/31/2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIER CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Far off Constellations
David J Walker
It’s not me
It’s the judgment
I never see
But can still hear
The chitter chatters
Of muffled voices
That scatters into
A bust of Swahili
Or Farsi
Or Gaelic
for all that matters
I can clearly hear it in my head
Those words
That might have been said
Might have lied
Might have died in cooler
Midnight air
Never to be mentioned or
remembered again
It’s not me
It’s the bubbles with
Those words I see
And can read
in a race
Floating off into
Outer space
On a collision course with
Far off constellations
The sun awakens with bright shine,
turning the water into wine.
Its streaming ray entices thought,
of all the battles we have fought.
Colored cloths that flap in the wind,
soldiers die as if they have sinned.
From wars that were fought over lies,
To mothers that for their son cries.
And for what was paid such a cost,
as a young man's dreams that were lost?
Bugles play their song of sorrows,
for those who've lost their tomorrows.
Nights blanket lies upon our souls,
its darkness cools the fire's coals.
In the morning lights elation,
spirits will find... their salvation!
Love in a far off place
My moon was so shy
that it hid behind the darker clouds,
And cherished my twinkle in serenity
beyond real world at a far off place,
Veils of bright sun and vibrant nights
as memorable moments stayed by,
Where silver sparkles brilliantly lit
glowed the full moon to night's illumine !
Written July 27th, 2015
For contest by Frank Herrara
The maps are spread before us now.
Shall reckless abandon intercede?
We'll sail to every shore somehow.
Go wherever the oceans lead.
Preordained to find you here.
As soul mates share a bucket list.
Guided by joy and without fear.
Blowing through the morning mist.
Just like Noah, sturdy and strong.
Discoveries waiting to be freed.
Armed with merely words and song.
Rolling along not taking heed.
On pockets of land we take our rest.
As moonbeams smile and light our way.
We could be east or maybe west.
We'll just keep sailing come what may.
for Frank's contest "Love in a Far Off Place"
Dozing off behind the wheel
Sleep-deprived decapitated
Dillaudid consequences
Incarcerate
Betrayed confidences
Incriminated
Responsibility blotted
Dead friends
Incinerated
In reality
They rotted
Alive.
Years prior to demise.
Burnt bridges. Dead ends.
A hell we created
Causality to impend
Insanity
A cyclic continuance
Doomed to repeat
Again and again.
Just more tragedy
Easily equated
Karmic
Punishment I deign
Education in pain.
Deliverance in suffering
Salvation
My moral
Bearing reign.
Controlled by one nation
Daisy Chain – Bottom line - capital gain
acid rain
Acrid – floral
Bought and sold
Artistic creation
Liquid – Forced oral
Ingestion
VIA TELEVISION
Visual vomit – soylent seduction
Initiate
Indoctrinate
inducted
Programmable People.
Hypnotic STATE.
Spell-bound
Too Late.
in the story's beginning,
there's comfort, there's love,
bright smiles, bright eyes,
mother's mantel above,
with new looking awe,
small noises, small hands,
shining faces on porch swings,
bedtime fantasy lands,
as time turns and grows older
young faces turn to judge,
sire's guidance rejected,
bold attitudes won't budge,
punching holes into heaven,
burning fires, plasma veined,
rocket contrails of youth,
spun out in fast lanes,
sometimes they forgive,
these lives imperfected,
years burning slow fuses,
calming storm course
corrected,
now, in far off country's pure
air,
light bound in wonder now
waking,
looking back at those faces,
no finer journey worth taking...
Hey self!
What’s up with you today?
Did they talk to you?
No? Not again?
Hey self!
What’s up with you today?
Did they sing with you?
No? Not again?
Hey self!
What’s up with you today?
Did they play along?
No? Not again?
Hey self!
What’s wrong with you these days?
Have you gone far off again?
Oh no! Not again…
I captured a million butterflies
My heart flutters for you
A million and one you see
Beauty made unique for two
My heart is buried in clouds
Dark with stormy winds
Hidden inside of sorrows
Thus is I who makes the rain
And now the flowers bloom in spring
For sadness feeds the earth
And if I could make you smile even once
Then a million butterflies would dance
I planted those million flowers
My heart has opened to you
A million and one in blossom
For a beauty you are to me
I
Still
Don’t
Understand
Why the stories
Of beautiful love fail
And suffer in the misery of life
So, Oh lovers, better you disappear
Into the curves of the far-off
Universe, where there
Will be plenty of
Associates
To love
U
R K Chowdary Jasti
@all copyrights reserved
03.02.2013@4.04pm
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