They move through the maze,
Papers wavering like
thin-skinned truth,
Each signature a quiet uprising
Against the slow- grinding
Manuel Materials
That call themselves order.
Their voices catch on procedural
irritants
Cracked syllables lagged
Across desks,
Needs folded into Manila envelopes
That wander office to office
Like pilgrims pleading for
Charity.
Red tape coils around them-
A serpent made of statues,
A ribbon intertwined from regulations,
A binding charm diffuse by
Hands
That promise representation
But deliver hesitation.
Paper pushers sit behind the
Writing desks,
Shuffling lives like loose
Documents,
Moving stacks instead of
Solutions,
Measuring urgency in forms
And stamps,
Instead of human obligations
Still they push forward,
Bearing the bulk of civic expectations,
That drag of political formality,
The discomfort of being heard
Only after being processed.
And in the end,
Their persistence becomes revelation-
Proof that even disordered
Systems
Cannot silence a people
Who declines to be filed away.
You Laugh, sea waves billow
With joy into another segment
It spreads a whole amusement
Exposing the white soft sands below
Keep it updated to humorously be able
All having everyday a waggish anecdote
In honor of being cool under harsh fable
A remark intended to provoke ability if misquote
You laugh of Nations, how influential
You laugh of Nigeria, the one with no simplicity
But have become impotent with enough potential
Who boast silently; her wards cum toxicity
Shame the eyes in glasses that are not seen
Kill inability to get the water flow from rock
Force the evidence out of ignorance against cruelty between
Call and obedience to classic hawk
Human resources manager laughs
At this town's share of ego in pain
Not enough to cover up their gaffes
Mourning the loss, world weeps insane
But you do in guise of challenges to unfold
The trophy for thy blind chest through rage
Standing denialist to the fuse just bold
While democracy now live in comfortable cage
When exactly will time laugh out loud?
Where formality rule sincerely off fun
When will glasses help see through thick cloud?
Where season isn't the reason aura get done.
Am I a foul fellow when the house is longer than this morning? Am I the designer of the living room that doesn’t encourage formality, because we’re associated with rigid boundaries? I’m the next citizen of an affluent hovel. I’ll be the next coastal lowland along any gulf & hearing your voice, pattering on every rooftop, I cover all the island-dotted lakes with your shadow. Somewhere within, a breath produces vapour, making the sauna feel even hotter. Now if my shop doesn’t pay you, it means my family goes hungry. No public property is written off here. You’re the capital of these floating islands, a nice account in the only bank here, you can take my people for a holiday to May Isle. I get a bit of capital, nothing is your own, is it? It’s for her, my daughter in a white mask.
When I said, just everybody leave me
Dear true buddies, you always loved me back.
This bond of companionship.
Is more worthy than any kinda of Relationship
I am truly fond of this lovely affection nd attachment
that gave me good will and the harmony.
Beside true friends with theer fellowship that has
care, love and warmth in this fake world.
With the blind trust we build toghether
without any worry or hesitation
No more friends I need how
cuz they are meant to be my family.
It's not just a formality or Familiarity
but everything I believe believes believed
Thanks
Cats are an intriguing tribe.
They celebrate making the choice.
When you hear them, you catch the vibe
at the height of their Heaviside voice.
With lively reveling, they rejoice!
Cats are known for meditation
that mere humans can only surmise.
They devote much contemplation,
being both cunning and wise,
in choosing the one to die and arise.
So when you hear the bawl at night
do not rage or enter a snit.
It is this night they delight
in debating the worth of kith and kit
and contend themselves befit.
Humans contemplate immortality
in somber, immutable terms.
Cats view transition as formality
for it is death that life affirms
and only life that death confirms.
Juvenility meets senility
Childlike to childish formality
Nursing home abnormality
Inmates extend hospitality
I run as if they have a malady
He sets up His mast upon His raft.
He sailed the tops and groves of the trees in granting
There He goes through the forest, soaring His craft
He provides energy to the wild as the swift wind passes.
The freshness of the timbers climbing,
When they flourish where they're standing
The aroma of wood is the best for understanding
That should have it to vend banded we invoke.
We notice vines developing, surrounding the trees,
Sustaining one another breathing in this sphere of unity
We concede that we're learning from them by will
A loving connection between these trees and plants
The woodlands breathe with peace and with sense.
A tree's liveliness needs sustaining credence.
For its essence, it rightly deserves to be pleading
As if they were holding hands, the trees and vines
It shows us they have the capability of a love within residing.
The trees and different characters thereof,
An advanced tier of life to replenish our air above
An intelligent, complex organism of vitality
We discover more about this reality-based formality.
I err on the side of formality in receipt of undetermined
gender-initiated contact via a surname known to me to be of two different genders, despite that, appropriates;
To Whom It May Concern:
This means using Mr., Mrs., Ms., or other titles, followed by the individual. Pay attention to cues from the person you are addressing. If they express a preference for the better informal address, adjust accordingly. This indeed may involve using first names or other preferred titles.
Respect cultural differences, as moniker conventions can vary significantly across countries and societies. Do your research and be mindful of local norms when addressing people from diverse backgrounds.
As long as you approach the matter of addressing others with sensitivity and respect, you’re likely to earn a praise.
No healthy oils
but beef dripping kept
solid in a white enamel
can with a lid
in a cupboard under
the oven. Reused until
too dark and heavy
with sediments,
the dregs flavored
the best chips.
Mothers carried
the war year's frugal habits
into the fifties and so
it was with mine.
My Mum could make
a feast out of almost nothing
and gave little
to the bin.
There was an observed
formality for meals,
all of us had to sit
at the table, elbows
at the side and recite
the customary grace.
No getting up until excused,
no talking with your mouth
full, no reaching across
someone else's plate,
every request had to be
prefaced or end
with a ‘please’.
Something of the sacred
gave dignity to the rituals
of preparation
and consumption of food.
It wore the presence
of a gift. Not sure if today's
abundance is better
or worse - no matter -
as we eat whatever
and whenever in haste,
plugged in and sedated
by a mind-numbing choice,
our progress is measured
in waste.
A DOOR TO THE SOUL
I say, enough of this superficial world
Being so full of nothing, I am replete
That collective gasp when a flag is unfurled
With such artifice I will never compete
As all such false emotions around me whirled
Yet it is so strong, do I admit defeat
National pride has to be earned, not expected
Despite tears, there’s cynicism detected
Yes, there’s a place for all that formality stuff
Yet, sharing true emotion needs encouraging
To do this openly, one needs to be tough
And such an outpouring does need managing
Genuine feelings are diamonds in the rough
The sense of freedom beyond imagining
Allowing greater personal expression
Can be the best antidote to repression
Monogamy breeds monotony
Duplicity breeds depravity
Frivolity needs formality
Hostility needs humanity
Seeking immortality
A mummy on this plot
Death but a formality
My body withers not
Nestled in a hidden tomb
The last Egyptian king
Lying in a golden room
Beneath the falcon's wing
My fate is unmistakened
This curse on my demise
On judgement day awakened
Once more my soul to rise
A prophecy of the blind
Who foretold what's in store
Reigning terror on mankind
And death forever more
I wish I was a manly man, a poor man’s money monger,
Making war and living for the day when I was stronger,
Many men are making more than millionaires can squander,
Many more are sick and sore but out the door they wander.
What is practicality but just a word for sorrow,
What you spend is sure to end but not before you borrow,
Healthy femininity is bought for recreation,
Wealthy masculinity is not my new creation.
Failing men are sailing when they celebrate a brother,
Sailing men are failing when they castigate each other,
What you see is what you get when you are late to linger,
Lesser men are glad to get the gate of every swinger.
Toxic masculinity is not a match for mating,
Logic is formality but not for salivating,
Sonic sensibility is sleeping with a lover,
Chronic femininity is keeping under cover.
Suki is as Suki does
A vacuum cleaner's twin
She keeps her face fastidious
So she can start again
She follows you about the house
A faithful pet is she
We count on her to mop the floor
And map it frequently
Her appetite is typical
Of creatures like the whale
And yet she chews while other choose
To pass the garbage pale
She likes to bark at strangers
And she does so with a bang
A lot of worldly dangers
Are no longer just a fang
A funster or a munster
Is her sweet dichotomy
Whenever eyes are chasing flies
She plays the game with me
The toilet is her better half
As she would soon admit
She drinks a lot of water
In an effort to be fit
Another dog might step aside
Or say, I've got to go
But Suki dear is cringing here
To make the talent show
I'm glad to know her face is black
For this formality
A cordial black is nice to track
Her personality.
People with indiscriminate hugs
they’re full of false pleasantries;
Never a thought when out of sight
it’s nothing but a formality;
They’re full of false pleasantries,
I’m too tired to fight go on lie;
It’s nothing but a formality,
that gesture is empty with no words;
I’m too tired to fight go on lie;
Never a thought when out of sight;
That gesture is empty with no words,
people with indiscriminate hugs.
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