I seldom make promises --
man of my word, promises
leave no wiggle room…
and, most of us, at least
occasionally, like a good
wiggle
test our physical and
mental ranges for gyration --
In fact, on deeper analysis,
nothing really is ever stationary --
not time nor space
the closest thing to Perpetual-still
being the human heart, refusing
to give up on love, despite Love’s
independent nature~ its downright
heartbreaking propensity, to sniff
and wander, like a puppy, slipping
out the front door, unleashed….
If poetry channels our anger and sorrow
Who then will want to write it tomorrow
And will joy and contentment stifle its future?
And what will become of our stays and culture?
I say poetry has been victimized
Vilified, chastised, castigated and ostracized
Only perceived as a tool for struggle
Truths coded for smuggle
Yet poetry is just song void of tune
From the same rock hewn
For the lyrics that ride on the harmonies
Are sponsored by poetic abilities
Only poetry captures life’s odysseys
In whose form is crafted psalms and prophecies
If you want to know an expanse exceeding now
Poetry is the where and the how
Poetry in its recitation
May not cause rhythm and gyration
Care free melodies and chimes
That people seek in easy times
Until hard times force the weaning
Where people gain taste for meaning
A complementary aid for soul searching
To set the conscience forwardly marching
If poetry must fail in the market
Then it proves not to aim for your pocket
But a stinging dart to awaken your souls
When woes and lows purge all else from their roles
K. Muitherero
Punctilious conversation
Unknown by this generation
Suggested by eager administration
Hoping to curb dancing gyration
Censorship doesn’t work in our nation
Where felons are revered in Presidential celebration
Hey.' this about more than a storm in a tea-cup.'
I think it merits, we all give them a look up.'
Dane Wiggington's been digging, into actions
I find quite un-forgiving, into storm cycle gyration
That can strike upon Nations.' Visting disaster
Maybe being vigilant now.? Will defend against
A real bad climate here-after.?
Hydraulic system, heart made of pistons
Every co-ordinated mechanical manoeuvre
My heart served to you on a platter, your hors d'oeuvre
I look into your eyes, a deplorable disguise
Retinas of glass, I see right through your lies
Figments of my imagination
Don't come and cause me more vexation
Circling my mind
Tormenting, suffering, sempiternal gyration
My nerve endings started with you
Now unaware to whom
Now that you're gone
I can finally take off this costume
Now isn't the time for salvation
I re-evaluate our amalgamation
Not even an antisocial personality disorder
Could sum up a source of order
Wander your favourite forest
Walk past me and get hit with my poignant odour
Uncover my carcass, I don't need a hearse
Just dump me in the Oder
Dismember me piece by piece
Put me back together however you'd like
The puzzle wont be beautiful
Something incomparable to Vandyke
Encased in feeble form, doomed one day to die,
words penned in holy books offered no solace
and prayers that I muttered, quelled not heart’s sigh,
so exhausted being unable to lace
the truth of life, I deemed everything a lie,
plunging into silence to invoke God’s grace.
Many moons passed yet steady was my resolve,
to see without mirrors, that soul may evolve.
Having relinquished each and every belief,
I became a silent witness to my mind,
noticing that wayward ego was the thief
that stole soul’s peace, leaving head-heart misaligned
and so in staid silence, I turned a new leaf,
heeding voice of conscience, touch gentle and kind.
Exiting futile games of one-upmanship,
holding firm focus, love became my flagship.
Love being God’s force that ends separation,
in timeless time, Holy Spirit entered form,
romance divine, in an endless flirtation,
felt as magnetic currents both cool and warm,
causing within, energy nodes gyration,
which swept me away in this benign bliss storm.
Call this what you like and give it any name
but bliss in permanence is my claim to fame.
Baptised in an ethereal vibration,
in as a transfiguration of my soul,
subtle tingling of body cell’s gyration,
signalled intent to make my presence feel whole,
enabled by slow motion bliss serration,
cajoling me to make this game, my life’s goal,
so as ordained, with love and light thus ingrained,
my soul presence frolics in the void unchained.
Penny loafers; muffling, shuffling, slipping, sliding symbols of a generation.
The rings of alarm clocks, sprints to an office, and evenings in dance hall gyration.
Low, feminine shoes, a Post-War fad, that were prized for their disarming fabrication,
And preferred instead of the high-top boots, worn by men during War's mobilization.
Slaves of the feet, piously worn, softly they entered the Church of the Reverent;
Or briskly moving on tired, leather soles down the long halls of the U.S.Government.
Hail! The shimmering, scintillating coins shining brightly with romantic sentiment.
Gaudy, nerdy pennny loafers. Comfy on the feet and ready for a compliment.
The child of a certain perception,
Among your kinfolks poor reception,
You just can’t endure irritation:
It could make you leave your own nation,
White men’s world declare your new station,
Face the challenge of imitation…
Then, it’s all yours: A quick migration,
Your legs not swollen for gyration;
On foot you cross waiting borders,
Dumping your unreceptive brothers!
For those with no more trusts in their world,
Now, fully sure elsewhere they’re being called.
Poor rating at home has their hearts galled;
They’re bleeding guys beasts have mauled…
Really, the future of stark dreamers,
With hopes to play to the hilt schemers,
As a first step they arrange a flight,
In their countries tired of the fight:
A will to understand a new clime,
Note their guiltless actions now a crime!
Still, migrants to keep in mind Swallow
Foreign life they can’t continue to hallow
Some might question “What sort of fellow?
For life to a foreigner “Hello!
Once, I was there to check a tall Zaki
And it became reason to meet khaki,
Very clean but most offices tacky:
A cop could turn one into a lackey!
I know The Police is for the Nation
But I shan’t again a Police Station;
A world plainly paramilitary,
Safer, not better than Solitary,
In every station, obvious gyration;
Canteens that could serve one large ration,
The environment is quite sanitary
But should not clinch The Best Commentary…
Where one runs into AK47,
There holders more than Forty Seven:
Men who could catch rogues but their eyes roguish;
A lot of money make but still languish…
No good guarantee of non-harassment,
A chesty cough attracts embarrassment:
A fat envelope and one reports a case;
A much fatter one to clean and face!
Dot to dot conjoin
words we wish to coin;
splash in the ocean,
joy’s magic potion.
Soul's inspiration
shapes thought gyration,
to blissfully dance
in ambedo trance.
Our heart's pure intent,
grants the void consent
to forge words in shape,
leaving all agape.
Dot by dot so linked,
canvas now love inked,
by music patterns;
our night sky lanterns.
As thought flow resumes,
vibrancy assumes
heart’s unique flavours,
which our soul savours.
The curtain when drawn,
ushers a new dawn,
for each hue is new,
like the morning dew.
15-November-2022
Dot to Dot Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Mind, body, gender
and beliefs slender,
we burn to the ground,
as thought forms unsound.
All that’s manifest,
a fest in light jest:
merely vibration
of heart’s gyration.
Feeling bliss beats prance,
we exit deep trance,
garnering clear sight,
that mirrors delight.
Breath is our life force,
of which God’s the source,
who is living light,
shining within bright.
Nothing need be done;
God and we are one.
Once we cease thought flow,
this truth we so know.
07-September-2022
Dream
Swim through
Cream the treats
And follow keenly
The stream
Of the trying glue
Making up awesome beats
Of sounds filed serenely
Sleep
Don't hesitate
To chill down
Today's gladden heart
So deep
Of driving memories state
Within-out the colorful town
That makes celebration an art
Oh she is but a simple leaf
Withering off its branch
Having a new apt hope
For the coming bliss
Upon loamy soil
To live on and
Never die
Unjust!
In brief
If soil stanch
No room for rope
Target rather go amiss
And to the source shall recoil
Its functionality to the very grand
Set in fear to never again break the tie
For such memory ever barely live in dust
The world:- of your life's infernal gyration
Shall forever be a dream off consummation
Amen ??
Wafting fragrance of love pollination
Grace in-pours by magnetic resonance
Heightened is rapture, without cessation
Rainbow within, our self-luminescence
Presence nestles into inner silence
Each node within, dancing with elation
Bliss burrowing deep, awakes innocence
Wafting fragrance of love pollination
Peacocks tail-spread, alluring seduction
Cobras too entwine, in hypnotic dance
Koel’s mate call, enthralling sensation
Grace in-pours by magnetic resonance
Part of delusion, form sheds appearance
Each manifestation, a vibration
When head-heart aligned, with love in parlance
Heightened is rapture, without cessation
Sound of one hand clapping, hearts gyration
Our vaporised self, in inner balance
Melds with universe and all creation
Rainbow within, our self-luminescence
Awaken hermit, subtle sentience
Vibrant cessation, our prayer station
Divine love the fulcrum, the quintessence
Bliss in permanence, Gods benediction
Wafting fragrance
06-May-2021
as love outpours its own sublime essence
each imbibes hues of chosen resonance
free will determining the vibration
making music tuned to its gyration
in a play of divine entwined romance
child wondrous visiting a foreign land
flits about in trance till he understands
that fleeting images merely come and go
whilst bliss within eternal and mellow
all that that is empowered by Gods hand
dynamic stillness in field kinetic
enlivened silence when heart ecstatic
centred in nonchalance void our fulcrum
each node within bliss throb sensorium
rainbow in full view magic eclectic
08-February-2021
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.