I’m not like most people:
no, not at all.
I do not belong here,
this valley of pearls.
These
oceans of depth,
despite shallow world.
Mountains are men,
or is it reverse?
I’ve traveled far
and I’ve traveled wide
(mostly in words).
I’ve been a Victorian gentleman,
a Renaissance knight.
Despite all,
despite all,
I do not belong here:
no, not at all.
Not at all.
Idealists or poets conceive
of a world I wish I could believe,
devising abstract nomenclature
for a world where there is no hate -
but you cannot change man's nature.
You cannot change man's fate.
*Fatalism*
Idiot politicians who believe in the belief
that there is nothing to do to prevent events from happening
or to take precautions to lessen the risks
have already attempted to create a world blackening
To tell the truth, in my country TURKIYE,
as a result of their NONSENSE religious beliefs
there are a great number of idiot politicians
like those mentioned in my poem
Of Fatalism
Neither Fate is the Director.
Nor you the puppet or Actor.
Life is dynamic not stagnant
Choose path on determination.
Meet challenge in every fragment
of life on continuation.
Neither Fate is the Director,
Nor you the puppet or Actor.
Don’t believe in fatalism
Life is dynamic not stagnant.
Not to follow stupid fascism.
Truth the guide always vibrant
Neither Fate is the Director,
Nor you the puppet or Actor.
Epistemology enchants
Self confidence the Emperor.
Life is dynamic not stagnant.
Venture life as an explorer.
Neither Fate is the Director
Nor you the puppet or Actor.
Devotion Diligence: Main props.
Be Kind, Compassionate, Gallant.
Every effort cannot turn flop.
Life is dynamic not stagnant.
Neither Fate is the Director
Nor you the puppet or Actor.
08/24/22
This or That Vol. 13
Third place
Contest by Edward Ibeh
Title chosen Of Fatalism
As Siamese cat frightens the pygmy jerboa rat,
So too humans under fate or destiny's habitat;
I am chained; grab-hooked; the master-link is held by someone,
Like a stray dog, I am pulled; dragged; by everyone outdone...!
I am unquenchable; thirsty; my ponds are troubled, yet,
Though this has been against my wish, my tongue I cannot wet;
God too plays the determiner, like monkey puppeteer;
Hypnotizes the beings he's created; like snake-charmer...!
How must I live? How many days? How should I, at last die?
In death-bed or death, grave or interment, how must I lie?
When should my soul, like earthly water-drop evaporate?
When and where should, it, with the pure spirit incorporate...?
It should, anyhow, be born-again though it does not will,
Does habitat-destruction, the death human beings, kill?
Midst ocean of life-cycle forced beings feel, within, ill,
Could anyone, his or her existence, freely choose still...?
17 August 2022
Oh God, the fatal “ism” of the “isms”
The heart and soul of life
And all its schisms.
Collisions at great speed
That caused it all
Or wait!! Perhaps…If Eve….
had let the apple fall?
Pray tell, it makes no difference
How we pray
For in the world of fate
We all just bray.
And if by chance we dare
To turn away
The “ism” of our fate
Will still hold sway.
So flee the dreary world of “ism-ism”.
Or face the fate of fate’s
Now fatal “ism”.
©8/6/2022
Of Fatalism
Sponsor Edward Ibeh
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