Flagrant Poems

Pilgrimage

I sit, this morn, on the bed of
A dried-up rivulet,
Head-bent and full of compunction.
It’s clam-quiet except for the impatient
Squawks above which prompt my heartbeat.
I raise my head, heavy with grief.
Climbers and weevils align in a silent choir,
Singing with precision the lines of a forgotten
Mirth.
It’s 5 o’clock in the morning — a time when
Cockcrows are loud enough to wake the dead.
I cringe and slink as I traipse about in the dead woods,
Among the cadavers of river plants, decimated,
Deserted, and vitiated through seasons’ flagrant ebb.
I see shadows that sing with their mouths tightly shut.
Like them all, I, too, am lonesome, and I draw about me
The dry waves of parched waters.
On my lips is a certain prayer — a revised edition of the
Paternoster.
Return, waters, return from the underrocks, I pray thee.
My sorrows are old and fragile.
Hoots and cries and stridulations beseech me.
I have picked my way among paths that
Cuddle the feet in sympathy and soothe
The souls that hide from the earnestness of
Sunrise.
Wash my dry naked feet, O waters,
And grease my palms so cracked from
Endless chafing.

Fireworks

They rise and sparkle and crackle,
Shaming the nakedness of the skies
And the city, with one frightful flame of
Youth,
Burning with the zest of
Seasonal lore.
At Christmas, they salute the days
Creamed by snow and sleet,
Thrusting in us the wisdom of
Global ceremonies.
They are the lightning of Yuletide —
Lightning unaccompanied by rain.
Shaped in balls and spears, and lean
Fragments of flagrant colours,
They are armed with their own thunder —
Thunder that speaks volumes and calms the rage in
Frenetic dogs.
They are coloured paints splashed lavishly across the broadest
Canvas ever —black and seamless
We see through their lens, the running dusts
Of sparks,
The dancing circus of sky-circuits
And the happy wars waged on the frontiers
Of seasons.
They strobe around the cold earth.
New Year’s Eve is riddled with conundrums,
Waking sleepy souls to sneeze up details of
A frazzled year.
The heavens are lit up lavishly,
Electrified to stupor,
Reminding us of choirs that chorus to the tunes
Of life everlasting.
Carousels ride through our minds, young now,
Old tomorrow,
With sparks that shine this moment
And dim the next.
Such is life.

Flagrant Fluid

feathers twirled,
long into the night.
ebonic ink,
splotched and saturated,
with the heart’s content.
t
     e
           a
                 r
                      s
created the first draft
of watercolors,
                       s
                    e
                 a
               r
             i
           n
         g
of the candlelight vigil,
long forgotten grief,
h
     o
          w
                e
                      v
                            e
                                  r
God never
                                   f
                             o
                        r
                 g
            e
      t
s
He bottles up the flagrant fluid
of our awfulness, kept for
the day of wrath. Careless,
never; He eyes antiquity.

Aurora Borealis

A dark night canvas  over the North, 
swirls a fountain of myriad colors.
Changing shades  in majestic slither,
a cascade of light in the flagrant skies.

Pale purple waves dance in symphony 
with the moonwalk of pink roses in green,
Specks of silver shimmering in gentle lilt
like phosphorus angels in perfect style.

Hundred million stars in their lunar glow
beams of wilderness in a chromatic oasis 
Discarded dreams in my nebula heart
A fantasy is born from the celestial souvenir. 

Cosmic hues of the Aurora  Borealis 
Unforgettable moments only reminisce.

Message from God

Above the highest mountains of grandeur
Gracing fertile valleys of great worth
Wings a heavenly message most urgent
For all inhabitants of the earth

A message with evangelical wings
That yields neither to despot nor king
Exposing mortals' nefarious sins
Threatening earthly shenanigans

A message that strikes with dynamic force
Against evil's quest for flagrant wrongs
Will not crumble before motley concourse
Immune to injustice's deadly thorns

Message spoken by a prophet of old
Sets forth a noble and worthy goal
Writes  a profound message with heart and soul
What humanity is to uphold

The message from above to humankind
Speaks of justice,  doing what is right
Loving mercy, a grace gift most profound
And walk humbly with God in His light

**********

Inspired by the Old Testament Prophet
 Micah 6:8, "He has shown you,
O mortal, what is good, And what does the
LORD require of you But to do justly, To
love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God. (NIV)

Freedom speaks

Things are so quiet
Letters don’t soar
No one talks at all
They try but they fail
Inaudible words excel
Forever i think that words don’t have sound
Only emotions can turn the world around 
That's what we were taught
We were taught that we shall be silenced
That words won’t break us free
That we should take actions 
We were taught to throw the first punch
Instead of using our words, we used anger
To satisfy our vengeance hunger
We weren't taught good actions from bad
We were praised for having violence 
And bad emotions targeting people
We were taught that words were flagrant and should be banned
We silenced the only people who took a good stand
We were too scared so we didn’t talk
So whenever someone used words
We were desperately shocked
Even though some who visited never knew that we could understand 
Or hear the words they used 
Words do hurt I may say
But i’d rather hear those distressing words meant to hurt
Than be silenced and have no stand
So that day I got up too
I used my words
Those thoughts I kept in for so long
I Spoke my mind forever as time will go on
-Dawn.B

Eyes From Above

I hear the cries of all the babies & feel
the pain of a nation torn
Some can't see the struggle of all the
people but will feel the chaos born
They've sworn to uphold rights but
turn eyes to what is wrong
Karma is a dog with a hungry mouth
& it won't starve for very long
The jaws of the beast applies pressure
& some succumb to flagrant bites
Remember that pressure creates diamonds 
but you must endure to shine your light
The struggle is as real as the push & pull
so stay centered to maintain the balance
It's a struggle to stay centered in a dual
reality but you must accept the challenge
Drink from a chalice that brings life not
from a cup you know is dry
Fill yourself will waters from the divine
& pour with intent to reach the sky
The end is nigh but so are beginnings
that will change a lot of views
The most high has seen it all peering
through eyes possessed by all of you

Terrorists' Deity

Barbarity's own Deity,
The "Black Knight" of perversity:
Ascending through gross ignorance,
Descending on to Hell's province.

This callous god despises light
And seeks the deepest, darkest night.
It spawns a cult of terrorists -
Impoverished, soulless separatists. 

This cunning god invites the "lost"
To join its cause, but at what cost?
It sacrifices human fate
For what its creed would consecrate.

This corrupt god projects this trait:
Its mission is to promote hate.
It draws the worst from human ties -
Despicable through flagrant lies.

A "counter faith" to those we know,
It stands alone - allowed to grow
From seeds of immorality
To acts of dire depravity.

What frames the Terrorists discourse
That causes pain without remorse?
This Deity of coarsest fame
Whose imfamy has claimed its name.

Sisters Pierrot

She haunted me as a child,
Staring quietly from her watercolor world. 
Her strange presence called me. 
Powder-white skin and rouge cheeks,
Pencil-thin brow over 
Dark-rimmed eyes 
Shedding a single tear,
A pale rose between slender fingers,
Seeking its fragrance.
Quietly she slipped away, 
I never asked after her.

Years later, her likeness appears. 
Same raven cap,
Impossibly flagrant and frosty ruffles,
Porcelain cheeks without a hint of blush
Wide eyes tinged with sorrow,
Flowerless hands,
Her watercolor world mixed to black.

Then they came to me, together,
A dark evening in Paris. 
Delicate in their lightness, 
Impishly prancing in the streetlights
As if giddy with some tantalizing secret. 
The first hands me her rose
As she cups my face,
“Dear one.”
They move to either side, 
Taking my hands
And we run.
We run until we reach a dimly lit park
Where we sit cross-legged in the damp grass
Silent except for the panting of labored breaths
Returning to their natural rhythm.
“Tears bring fullness to life.”

They wandered off into the night
As suddenly as they had come.
Leaving me to deliver their rose 
And share my tears with the people.

Self-portrait

I faced this man, looking like a portrait, 
I heard him whisper from heart straight. 

You’re bold and flagrant frank,
voice vibrates with cadence of confident airs,
you’re logical, at times tangentially crank,
eyes encase dulcet dreams, at times tears

In the latent lattice of intricate design,
layer on layer, your mind is stratified,
the sanguine strata of all assorted hues align,
unique psychic patterns are unified.

Many aspects of singular distinction hide
within the network of your mind’s cipher layers, 
can’t be decoded by the world outside,
the reticent sense of silent self never cares. 

An insular captive of your mental making, 
you’re you, an inimitable loner,
in your lane you see the aliens walk forsaking,
you’re defined by your essence sober.

These are the entity attributes of you people view, 
different from the rest around you, for you’re you.

I looked at the portrait somewhat closer,
saw this man stare at me from the mirror.

An Alliteration Floral Mess

The same sunny Sunday simply
Just was when the merry month 
Of May came cruising cautiously 
Colliding with a clear and conclusive
Nature every day I say we cheer
Forever everywhere do dare and
Care when all of nature is flagrant 
Aroma we grow up the air is clear 
The garden fragrance fully floral
Fortune fortress a flowerful 
Pleasantries of gardens a
Beautiful stench of a mess.

Rain

rain
cooling
sprouts begin
to flagrant blooms
monarch butterflies
across garden
dense gray clouds
shadow
rain

Burlesque Bernadette

Flagrant bird Bernadette feathery flair flamboyant
     Towers over average plumage 
     Parades tassle twist pantomime pow wow warbonnet
     Cascade costume illuminating

    
     Cheyenne crowned showgirl, a flurry of torso tumult
     Statuesque neck festers fatalism 
     Stiletto weapon punctuates staid with societal revolt
     Rouses a Lady Marmalade rythm 


     Elusive vermilion mouth majestic Bernadette buxom 
     Slinks sequined by beside suited
     Patrons in shadow of taboo troublesome seduction
     Stubble rub struggle translucent 


    Sashaying aves, aloof eaglet suspended in feminine 
    Bouyant slow swirl drape tailed koi
    Hypnotic bronzed bends transmit treacle pheromone
    Concocts a carbonated cider void 






          26th June Too sexy!

Hidden Tears

Why do you weep my children?
And who has forged these tears?
All the pains you've hidden,
Have robbed you of precious years.

Scars etched on body and soul,
Will forever leave their mark.
Hands that reap broken trust,
Sow endless fears in the dark.

The hurt reflects in your eyes,
As you suffer all alone.
The hope of justice will come,
When all culprits are known.

With love and understanding,
The clock heals tortured times.
Those guilty of flagrant sins,
Will soon pay for their crimes.

Available Technological Service

A laptop lightens my mood,
Yet persuades me to be rude.
It’s always told what to do,
Yet in my mind it breaks through.

An iphone aids in stalling
During moments of squalling
Yet no one cares about that,
As everyone likes to chat.

The laptop is my teacher
If it’s not a poor creature
Yet the same bloke is flagrant
If common sense is vacant. 

The iphone is my brother
If us two works together
Yet it would be my medium
If my life’s filled with tedium.

Thus, both souls need your utmost
In shaping the world we boast 
If you want a great service
Thus? No need to be nervous!

Posted on 5th April 2023
Name of contest: Write A Jueju-Qijue Poetry Contest
Sponsor Name: Emile Pinet

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