uphill climb,
rigorously relentless
with ambling ambitions
and schematic stratagem,
blueprinted blatantly
on the blank
parchment of marooned mind,
sketched skillfully
with chameleon color shift,
transiently transfixed.
gripping gravity
of transcendental time
of the loaded past
pulls back incessantly
the strings of present,
fastening in retrospect
the incoherent network
of faltering footsteps
at the refurbished root
of existential essence.
intent inertia
of living force
creates proactive
causal momentum
of tumultuous time configured,
permeates the perception
of the fourth dimension.
construed continuum
of elusive eternity
strives to unveil ineffectually
the shrouded acuity
at the summit of actuality,
emotionally evasive,
abortive climb connotes
futile foray
to somewhere intangible.
He said, it’s futile fighting raging fires
With weak resolves that may tend to stoke it,
I’d much rather go with my heart’s desires,
So spare for future your wisdom’s tool kit
And loosen up to enjoy passion's heat,
Bask in desires’ warm glow, never retreat.
Beware, warm passion often heat acquires,
She posed, to know it is what this life is.
Why? Enough to know fair from foul desires--
The fair ones feel much like a pleasant breeze,
Whilst raging fires are whirlwinds, far from joy.
Fair, fanciful, desires are leads of life,
Let’s be a child engrossed in her new toy,
Yea, toys each to each be husband and wife.
_______________________________
Sonnet (tongue-in-cheek) | 06.04.2005 |desire, fire, life
Note: Here is a dialogue between two newly married. It begins with philosophy, but as the moments warm up in passion, they tend to forget all arguments to come close to agreement. A conjugal bed is a great leveller where all differences tend to even out.
I accept you for what you are, what you’re not and who you’ll become . I want to know your thoughts so we can ponder collectively. I want to feel the warmth from your embracement giving me comfort and security. I want you to seek refuge and shelter within me. I want my name to loop in your mind just like yours does to mine . I want to mean something to you. Not the remnants you discard when you’re satisfied. the days you choose to ignore. the neglected sun you loathe when you sense the heat yet you crave for it during torrential downpour. Futile is what I am . I cant be the sun on a rainy day neither the moon on a somber night . I want you to yearn for me only then will I unveil my facade of insouciance and portray vulnerability. I’ll wait for you to say the words because saying it myself will only paint my canvas as the jest but when you speak it sounds ever so pure and cathartic I almost regard it . Till then I’ll observe you closely paying attention to even the smallest of freckles or blemishes hoping that one day you’ll choose me.
Leisurely running
Scrumptious donuts and ice cream
Pounds pile on me
In the depths of my mind, futile thoughts intertwine,
Information loses its form, seeking to become knowledge,
But knowledge is not wisdom, merely an endless road,
Shrouded in the mist of truth it cannot touch,
Truth, an illusion that knows no beauty,
And beauty, a shadow of love that cannot sing.
And love, a dream shattered by the reality of music,
Music, the only truth that pierces the silence,
While each note dances on the edge of infinity,
The essence that unites everything, and yet, nothing else matters.
In a world of illusions, music is the beginning and the end,
Solitude and ecstasy, woven in sublime harmony,
And thus, I lose myself in it, with an open soul,
For it, only it, is more than all that can be,
It brings me peace and turmoil, unique and eternal,
In a universe of lies, music remains,
Vibrating in the depths of the heart, the ultimate truth.
Not even nothing..
A showing that words
Even the word nothing
Cannot express This
Which cannot be
Expressed..
A Preface to every
Use of words..
Discouraging and
Encouraging..OK
This is nothing..
Perfect and futile...
WHAT'S COMFORT?
The way you hold me when the world suppress
the warm touch when the anxiety triggers
pulling me out of the darkness of hollowness
telling me to seek comfort from you.
Being the sun of my dark sky
when I can't find the ray of hope.
The way you clean the food bites around my mouth
while I complain and rant about people who shout.
when you put your head on my shoulder
I inhale the mild sandalwood fragrance that hover.
covering the noise of the world that shatters.
telling me you are what matters.
The morsels of fragments when you leave
I know well it would hurt yet chose the part
reaching the heart horizons when its deep
knowing we would never cross and leap
knowing the uncertainty of conditions
for you my heart still functions.
they call it our independence
we were never dependent
they'll rape our only mothers
make us repent it
they'll sell our land
and bomb us when we tent on it
they'll condemn our freedom
after forcing us to shoot for it
morals are futile to the fed
to the hungry
well,
different story
—Tony O'manachain
The uphill climb,
rigorously relentless
with ambling ambitions
and schematic stratagem,
blueprinted blatantly
on the blank
parchment of mind,
sketched skillfully
with chameleon color shift,
transiently transfixed.
The gripping gravity
of transcendental time
of the loaded past
pulls back incessantly
the present instants,
fastens in retrospect
the incoherent network
of faltering footsteps
at the refurbished root
of existential essence.
The intent inertia
of living force
creates proactive
causal momentum
of tumultuous time,
permeates the perception
of the fourth dimension.
The construed continuum
of elusive eternity,
strives to unveil ineffectually
the shrouded acuity
at the summit of actuation,
emotionally evasive.
The climb connotes
a futile foray
to nowhere.
Spider webs woven into that guitar,
soft music will echo and hang around;
The audience an unsuspecting fly
tries to wiggle held tight by a grimoire;
Souls become lost and can never be found;
It will not fail over time they comply,
something in the air sedates what is shrill;
Quiet now it’s not so bad being bound;
Your submission you can now justify
any other move has become futile
to try.
I pull...tear my heartstrings
Rip and maul like a wild beast
Why, oh why do I do this
Why does love never stay
I treat love so divine
I give the elusive goddess the sweetest creams
The ripest fruits and the clearest waters
All my longing is hers
All my songs and poems and sonnets
I write and write and write and yet it is futile
How much does this cruel goddess want
Aphrodite, I yell,
Aphrodite, I scream
Aphrodite, I howl, I bark, and cry, and whisper, and croon
And I kneel and say,
Aphrodite
Why walk broken streets?
Your Highness, the crown is gone!
No good can fix this.
In a robotic voice
I’d mimic the famous line
Re-sis-tance is fu-tile
It always made me chuckle
chuckle that is until today
I understand now
it’s so much more
than just a phrase
from sci-fi movies
I see you resisting the inevitable
Resisting because it’s not fair
because it’s not right
Resisting with all your might
and you’re angry
I’ve often found that
when Life takes with one hand
it gives with the other
So here it is
ready to unroll
Bite into your future
Have faith
and remember
Resistance really is futile
AP: 3rd place 2025, 3rd place 2022
Superbly Pretty
Pretty dance of laser fire
Multi coloured megawatt beams
Frying all they touch
Superbly pretty yet evil
Beyond Hell the capability
Fired from orbiting spaceships
Close to a planet
Or a galaxy away
Up close is good
See the results
The planet melts
People are gas
It's over fast
All Putin’s Fault
The man cries
No more wife
No more child
No more family
No more home
No more Ukraine
No more happiness
Huge bomb craters
All Putin’s fault
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