Meandering meadows broken by a tossing garbling brook…strewn..rocks hewn embossing...marbling and moss flossing
Awoken whispers spoken..cantankerous coughing eddy wheezes..then a curmudgeonly icy mirror hush
Reckoning breezes yield cats' paws beckoning…teases across the flanking field
Fairies’ wield spells conveyed in lush dappled glades of plush bluebell dells
Stacked cumulus collage..shield montage cracked by dazzling azure shard mirage
Chubby clouds’ japes..conjuring cannily hung faces.. shapes...far flung places
Strife is rife..resurrection introspection survival..brings carnival of retrieval
New things...nothing can rival..primal primeval revival..Spring sings life!
Feeling of mine towards you
Makes me utter word impromptu
Your cheerful smile is my heart pride
Leaving for a while
My body gets to fragile
The one whom by seeing I'm garbling
In nightmare I'm wondering
Your presence makes heart beat loudly
When I can enjoy with you jauntily
Eagerly waiting for your text
When I will hear your voice then I rest
Feeling of mine is real not fake
My heart want to make manifest
Consider my love, please confess
Fleeting time day and night
Every time you are running in mind
Opportunity to give kisses flying
When you will become mine ?
Moss grows on the old gravestone
mooring itself into the moribund marble
spreading like a syphilitic rash
garbling the name in shades of green
the velvet glove of a thief
slowly stealing the identity
of the dead buried below
The blurred image of a willow tree
all one can still see
engraved in the soft stone
weathered by more than a century of rain
No one remains
to miss them
to mourn them
to wistfully stare at an empty chair
erased from history
as if they never existed at all
whoever they happened to be
my latest anti CCP turtle poem--
CCP Turtles Grassing Line
China’s virtual hotline
Report online remarks
Slander Communist Party history
Crack down “bygone nihilists”
Party’s 100th centenary July
Grass line allows society report
Netizens “twist” Party’s history
Attack governance policies
Denigrate national heroes
Deny superiority radical socialist nation
Clandestine motivations old nihilistic parodies
Malevolently garbling
Denigrating contradicting Party history
Internet operatives administering people
Devotedly report dangerous info
“Historical nothingness” public doubt distrust
Chinese Communist Party’s earlier dealings
China’s net forcefully censored
Overseas social media networks
Search engines news outlets forbidden
Penances persons conveyed
Netizens prison lawful punishments
Placement content acute
Nation’s leadership procedures antiquity
Legal amendments folks
“Slur smear invade on” memorial
China’s national heroes’ martyrs
Face three years gaol
projection upon
another all of ones
faults that the mind
can't seem to rap it's
head around
instead create an internal
fantasy world in which
the other is to blame
were the other is at fault
were the other is the root
of the problem
garbling up realities picture
upon the internal screen of the mind's eye
Dawn She's So Beautiful
I went up to the lake to fish
early morning reverie.
She was peaking over my shoulders,
Dawn,
illuminating my trail,
my steps,
past tall oaks
and scattered underbrush,
where I saw
a bright eyed deer
holding my stare
before darting off
and little rabbits
making a beehive
back to home.
As the early morning
undressed
my piquing ears touched
by birds singing
in the shower,
garbling in unison
to one another,
like those little blue robins
I would love to cuddle.
As I walk
the chill melts
and the fog
from my lips lessen,
as I walk in cadence
to the masses
of flying insects,
bees and butterflies
I see flirting
with blossoms.
My eyes look up
at the open skies,
nature,
my heart skips a rope
like a child,
as daylight breaks
... Dawn
leading the way.
She's so beautiful,
her reverie,
I wish I could catch
and covet.
connie pachecho
8/3/17
I've been misled by my opprobrium again
Stuck in this continuum until the bitter end
Elysian fields beckon me like a moth to flame
Halcyon days gone like 15 minutes of fame
Coal black devil in a pinstripe suit
and the suicide king are in cahoots
To strip me of every last fiber of being
until it's all over but the fleeing
Girded by the phalanx, but still just one man
I wade into the gore as far as I can
Herded like a sheep to its slaughter
I'd fight back but why bother
Miscreants and mendicants, magi and infants
Orchard full of the skulls of dissidents
Juxtapose a joke within the jeer
Somewhere amidst the ennui and the fear
Go to church and lurch forward in your seat
Bring a casserole for the meet and greet
Pixelated images and a distorted voice
mouth full of marbles garbling about choice
Parading about with the éclat of a Broadway actor
while actually looking for the next benefactor
Truth be told, water does come from a stone
As long as the glory is given to God alone
I am a witness, a living witness
Tell the Sanhedrin I have tongue for sale
For all evening
Through thunder, hail, and rain
I have seen her dancing
Like a mad woman in the streets
Celebrating her invisible jubilee
But did not hear her say
Once I was blind but now can see
I only heard the rising tumult
The omnious consequence of incessant guns
And children crying
From behind grilled doors
And did not smell ganja like days before
Just an acrid smoke
And a sudden lost of visibility.
Will you maim again the parents worship
For injured pride from prattling son?
Will you deny me place of history
Because only see
Men walking who do move
But gouged vast earth of its resources
Garbling with tentacles stretching like fingers from the heart
Every substance from our deepest root.
I am a living witness
I see them too, have known them for years
Men walking like trees with deciduous cares.
We are the children of the rim
Where white gulls over blue Atlantic sing
Interruptions that memories skim
Across the face of altered maps for wing
One feather to lift us again, high
Empire in shambles in the callous flow
Of sands. We demand without lie
A stake in this economy that you grow
On our backs shackled and coffleless
Marginalized 'fore a muted witness
It is time for restitution
It is time for moral ablution
And we, children of the rim
This is our international hymn.
So we come to this table
Fully disagreable
With the with status quo and flow
Of global garbling and slow
Melt down of our life
Across the spiring babel of all strife.
We are the children of the rim
It is your turn to meet us now
Against your propspects and dim
Sunset that cannot know
This consideration colonizes our negotiation
And is your last hope to learn redemption.
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