It’s the heyday of the preachers of doom
nuclear paranoia, world goes boom
Open Season to generalize with closed eyes
all righties -- fascists
lefties -- commie drug addicts
It’s a high point for hate
Blacks hate whites
Whites return the favor
Sophisticates choose
to hate Jews of every flavor
As for a President who’s made the borders secure again
and dealt a decisive blow to the loonies in Iran
Half the country views him
as a deranged, soon-to-be-jailed con
I know on heydays
More Mayas settled for food
On a barren land.
Morning appears
wet...
bare street
bathe...
both
hoping to clean the
rust of life ...!
Weather alerts for
that don't leave home !
and the windows not awake
don't even notice ...
The routine still sleeps
perceiving that still
I didn't wake up to the fight ...
I dream of heydays
to come ... alive
in the landscapes of dreams
finals, daydreams ...
That's why I appreciate dreams,
we live what we never lived ...
There is a knock at the door!
- Come, coffee is served ...!
- Real, reality ... this is something
that I detest ...!
Expeditious plus instantaneous fox,
apt o'er daredevil weathering, parts his lair,
ingeniously resourceful, and nevermore...
~~to be outwitted,
A lackluster canine, faults, near some stillness
of his stoop, peering somewhat from droopy sights
that influence his realm ... dropped at points from his
~~elongated snout,
Heydays concerning happenings, abandoned
diverse anecdotes from a dog sovereignty
when challenged through a fox determination
~~engaged fraught dispute,
Lacks nurtures endurance, sequence marks a fox,
the dog's yoke weighs domestically heavy--
*"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog"
~~end fox versus dog.
Fields of the dermis yield a harvest worthy of an ample supply of suppleness,
Foretelling fluctuating skin moisturizing balms that saturates the aged cavities,
Cherished heydays occupied a magnificent face for cameras to envy,
In the advance of time, I am content to tender the waning years.
2020 January 14
Awarded to privileges and sanctioned
embellishment favoring enhancement,
Over time, years chip away unnoticeably
o'er worn breathless moments,
Taunt texture of an arduous youth evaporates
in a whimsical hallucination,
Fields of the dermis yield a harvest worthy
of an ample supply of suppleness,
Foretelling fluctuating skin moisturizing balms
that saturates the aged cavities,
Cherished heydays occupied a magnificent face
for cameras to envy,
In the advance of time, I am content
to tender the waning years,
For a fair measured distance
as a camera poses for a closeup.
2020 January 10
At the heels of a blessed consequence, spurs unpredictable fervency that is extremely engrossing, it perplexes conscionable determinations, concerning exhausting heydays of a celebratory stretch, that radiates from an unfathomable receptacle, wherever, wrapped gifts stead itself in anticipatory sensation, to collect and concentrate, then it will undividedly precede, o'er a decisive menacing expectant eve, plus, simultaneously surrender joyously, amidst an agreeable, explosive, color-filled night sky finale.
calendrical charms
thoughtless and thoughtful gifts coaxed
colorful glowed eve
2019 December 15
December or January Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
Howmanysyllables;
5,7,5
I always thought of a word I would use to refer to him,
for he was more than a brother to me.
We talked about space and mysteries for hours.
We went for long walks.
We shared our fears, hopes and dreams.
We joined many clubs in campus heydays.....
One day, our communication was cut;
I couldn't tell whether it was I or him
who had a problem, or wanted time alone to reflect
and meditate about life or oneself.
No phonecall,
No SMS,
No WhatsApp,
No Facebook,
No meeting in town....
The friend I knew disappeared like Atlantis,
only for me to tell people how he was good,
and how he looked like. People keenly listen
to my narrations, as though he was a legend
past gone eons back.
A brotherhood I thought was real and meaningful,
disappeared into the mist of mystery.....
O! My gentle little Jane
Amazing me with thy brain
Being a writer thou shall gain
When thy writings drip like rain
I shall smile in thy reign
Make it snappy writing pays
Pick thy pen and stop delays
Practise it in all thy days
I shall witness thy heydays
Thou shall live to make headways
Seas and oceans never dry
Garnished lines never shall die
Make them colourful than a dye
Paint like stars would paint the sky
In the end thou shall soar high
I know thou shall pull down rocks
Moulding poetic lines like blocks
Ignore all the talks and mocks
Get thyself a very big box
Where thy foes are kept like cocks
Ensure those lines are worthwhile
They shall marvel at thy style
Thou shall give them a wry smile
When they eat from the trash pile
O! My gentle little Jane
I shall give you a campaign
Thou shall travel in airplane
Being a writer thou shall gain
Today gives me an ethernal hurting
of the raging night, my moon had crashed
on the wings of flamingoes
While saying farewell to crying winds of the
creek when waves slapping sideways on crazy
shores of silence, another watchman of sweets.
Impared longing till it starts burning
under the eyes, so I am the priest and I am the god
of wasteland incisible in drifting dust
Of voicelessness on the doors of schizophrenia
in order to stay dane amist the freedom of violence
of uncaught heydays of drag queens in transgender
Era of dragons and quivering flash of tempers
between breasts of hills in a green sky it would
be sleepless mystry of gullible hounds
SATISH VERMA
SOFT SENSUALITY
While the waiting is nearing
The longing doubly suspenseful
Mechanically or tender make it eager of welcome
Perhaps hugging and kissing
Will never dampen homesickness
Everything in the “kubo” is envious
Every minute a comfort and intimate
Even crickets stop cricketing
And eking doors shut up and posts oiled
All holes on the walls will have their heydays peeping
Can we stop the nectar oozing down?
Surely a very hearty and glorious days and nights
Like in a store the customer keeps coming back
The delights will never end
Soft and hard are both sensual
Whether the night is romantic
Will both of us irresistible
Especially with naked truth
And never bow out to heavens.
Term: Kubo(Filipino word) means cottage in this poem.
Dalila Agtani
9/26/11
Entered in a contest:
Sponsor nette onclaud
Contest Name SOFT SENSUALITY
NIGHT SKY WHEN THE MOON IS SMILING
The sky is adorned with many stars
Twinkling and wishing you many sparkle
Some people represents you love dearly
Your parents, sisters, brothers, children , grandchildren
And, a bosom friend
Like the heydays when you were young
Playfully and seriously you passed away those days
Molding the future with what the olds toiled for you
Picking one little star would not be enough
As many pitfalls along the way
But each fall you tried harder and pressed
For the better remaining steadfast
As you know well the moon is smiling
Watching, caring and showing you the way
A future you found with someone new
A solid tomorrow and for the rest of your life!
Today gives me an ethernal hurting
of the raging night, my moon had crashed
on the wings of flamingoes
While saying farewell to crying winds of the
creek when waves slapping sideways on crazy
shores of silence, another watchman of sweets.
Impared longing till it starts burning
under the eyes, so I am the priest and I am the god
of wasteland incisible in drifting dust
Of voicelessness on the doors of schizophrenia
in order to stay dane amist the freedom of violence
of uncaught heydays of drag queens in transgender
Era of dragons and quivering flash of tempers
between breasts of hills in a green sky it would
be sleepless mystry of gullible hounds
SATISH VERMA
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