a weak, tiring roar~
the same one that once shook the jungles...
now too feeble to scare.
Its strength fades to past glory...
as death lingers close to claim.
twist to the tale
leaves us wailing
how frail we are
All along
Life is like a candle in the wind
Encountering dangers sometimes
Life is fragile like a glass
Sometimes feeble and sickly
Life is like a messy rubbish dump
Sometimes uncertain and aimless
Life is like a sudden rain which comes like fate
Always unforcasted and helpless
Life is like a beggar
Always begging for more
Life is like a prayer
Sometimes with great expectations
However
Life can become an iron bar
Not easily bent, strong and firm
If you've a strong faith in god
It counts a lot who is in Control:
In a venture he is The Petrol;
To tell The others The Relevant,
Fish out those who choose to gallivant,
Workers warn to be not Sycophant:
Those chasing the size of Elephant!
It matters a lot who does control:
Early fights his Catarrh with Menthol,
So that it staggers not his patrol
Or him reduce to one we console!
The one in control like Football Coach;
To be The one you mostly approach:
The Fellow to new topics broach
Upon his Province not dare encroach
The one to The ‘Bad Guy’ call Cockroach!
On A Pedestal who’s in control:
Then, eyes closed to sharing of Dettol
Over The Squabbles merely quibble
Or one’s barraging voice make feeble …
Who has found himself in control
Has for himself found painful Vitriol.
Feeble form sighs, seeking desire
Devoid of memory
We then deludedly aspire
Egoic fame and glory
Heart oscillations sway
Endless lives we replay
As ego has it’s say
Through lows and highs
Feeble form sighs
15-November-2021
Quietus
I
blossom
and
brighten
up your day
with a
smile,
dazzling.
I sway, sway
gently to your
soul's sweet song.
Dewy
cheeks
fresh, smooth,
scent pristine
cheer you -
but
you crush
me!
Date: 06/14/2021
For Kim Merryman's Waltz Wave Poetry Contest
pure
fragile
flapping her
arms soft, tiny
baby fingers curl around firm grasp hold
granny's finger creased, bridging the gap, folds
arms soft, skinny
trembling frail
feeble
pure
Dated: 10/12/2020
For Double Tetractys 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Then your falling youth
How pitiful!
In long-term use-
Suspending, feeble breasts-
Obsessed, nostalgic-
Recalling the lustrous sunlight.
There grows-
The line of oblivion of quarter century
There grows-
In the line of the setting sun.
As if the rays coming from hidden gold under dust
And it scatters into wonder light rays.
The beautiful rainbow remains suspended
In the stream of light of the blue sky
Smears the melody of a bow on its body.
The lust of a voluptuous woman
Diminishes off in the horizon
At the end of the day
The majesty of a pigeon
Returns to its nest
With exhausted flying wings
At the end of the day.
The drunk hem of the sari
Flies on the roof
The silver rays of light remain playful
Play in the dancing style
Breath in the burning sweat point after fall
Life searches for nirvana in exhalation.
But-
The bright day hides in the darkness of night
Then days go by, just go by
And the sprouted youth horse tramples
The pitiful shadow of old grandfather.
In the midst of midnight croon
laden with stars, the sky bends
refracting light into a spectrum
of drifting colour mystique blithe.
Beauteous in a wilderness
amid the feeble dimness
of old mossy leafless boughs;
owls and other creatures rouse
into emptiness of the night.
They step out of the shadows
beneath the old resting maple,
flickering candlelight in hand,
and fall to their knees on soften
crackle of dry leaves; a trifle eerie.
A sudden gust of wind, a chill,
reap and thresh, a tortured flesh,
kneeling in credence with mournful din.
Penance will never end for sin
in the dark hour struggle and shame.
11/29/2019
This humble musician so sad,
got upset of being always trodden
by the swaggy salvo of neglect.
He tried to impress people by his music,
but its timid tune reached nowhere,
dissipated unheard in the thin air.
He once listened to the call of his soul,
wanted to be heard loud and bold,
so got a trumpet from cacophonous market.
On a moonshine night when people slept,
he tried but couldn’t blow his trumpet,
for it turned into a feeble flute.
August 30, 2019
power grows to possess everything
with arms and superman's ultra spring
cool catches shined grey bone
sun speaks neurotic tone
flowers- epitaph draws hump-back's string
- Augus 01, 2018 Chattogram
Always saying sorry
Never standing my ground
Here I am crying for help
But my lips don't make a sound
All I wanted was happiness
But here I am distraught
I do not deserve the same as you
Treat me like an animal
absence of all thought
Others like me are not deserving people
Those who are strong will always win
But in this world where none are bold
I will still always be most feeble
I
am
lying
on my bed
Struggling with cold
It’s been a couple of days now
As if a decade have passed, but I am so adverse
06.26.16
If nature is as inevitable as change defines the weather
By same nature’s-fortune decree, my sins cannot define me
I am my Father’s fine-art, perfectly coated to the brim of His brush
As His life-force flow through me, as blood flows throughout my veins
I am as free as how a butterfly conquers the world of its own construction
No man can deceive his own heart for so long that it breaks itself-to-pieces
I’m my Father’s ship; I’m able to roam the sea, to discover the undiscoverable
And to walk the sandstorms of my desert-self, within the lightest-ness of spirit
I’m my Father’s son; I’m ready to hear His voice and to submit to His commands
I’m freedom itself riding the waves unto the end of all of the uncharted-probability
Where knowledge wears the mask of doubters, as to wisdom wears only of the truth
I choose grace for grace sake where truth comes only by the faith of a humbled-heart
So, this is my vessel; my mind is open for the words of God, craving for understanding
Wilbert Dela Cruz 6-12-16
a heavy structure
constructed on very weak plinth
it's feeble so falls
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