Austo-Jappanese, I seem to hear some
Accent.? On an evil wind..No good.' Just bad
Scenes..Deception and many memes.' Descendant had he.? And are they happy.?
Living today.? In this world gone astray..
Kalergi is it allegory.? Are we a coizent
Humanity, are there plans in general more
Controlling from aouthouritys, are things
Bland and stale, yet also gory.? Can you see the actions? Do you read lifes signs ?
Am i alone in my awareness.? Is this pure
Accidental or could there be bad design?
love rove
hove move
lore door
Haste hue chehre par kayi raaz chupaye baithe hai "
Jise pa nahi sakte usi se dil lagaye baithe hai "
Chahate toh qaid kar lete tumhe apni in aankhon mein "
Lakin kho Kar tumhe aankhein bhigoye baithe hai....!!!
My soul drenches in the realm of your quintessence
To rise in its resplendent renaissance
Akin to the birth of a feathered avian
Searching in your heart, a tiny pavilion.
Held up by the reciprocation of your love
Which has not done yet, despite of heavy hove
Within the strength of yearn, never dies
The sensibilities that keep the souls’ ties.
Devotion to you taught me self-amore,
Yet I was alive, now I live to the core.
the prickly-eyed coneflower bees
attractively buzzing their squeeze.
the purple petal umbrellas.
a lovely echinacea breeze.
butterflies and hummingbirds hove’.*
red-winged blackbird, high perched above,
does shelter in Eden, his brood.
cones teem with life, vivacious love.
8/24/2022
Eight Lines of Rhyme - Your Favorite Flower
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Rhymes checked with rhymezone
aaba rhyme scheme
*hove’ - hover
Autumn light
Softly they walk on a day in October
The old man and sunlight among olive trees
Planted when his grandfather was young.
On the track hove marks from sheep
That walk here daily on the way home
After grazing upland.
Bits of fleece on thorny bushes
Black pellets and the pungent aroma
Of the woolly-backed still lingers.
He sees the old cottage, warped roof
And bushes grow through the floor
He doesn’t stop; it was all so long ago.
Light is fading time, to leave for him
Autumn evening evenings can be chilly
Not so good for his chest.
Howja geddit by firearms?
Gotta back to Semtex rams?
As the world warms
societies suffer dying fams
Letcha now my Lucid
Insanity and conflict did
Homes were demolished to rid
Livelihoods rubbled unsplendid
Why ju tay kit the life driven
Kissing catalyst of counterbidden
Every whisper hafta fill emotional burden
Wanna dance oh handmaiden?
This is so aptly my meow
Howzit going your salty war blow?
Whajoo do with it till now?
Begging in peace row
Walking tall to move
Wrapped blue groove
Gotcha embark my love
Lemme in and go my hove
S trange is the way unbound mind hovers, I don’t steer
T rapped in insecurity web I tread life in lurking fear
A t times I feel someone trails, my tense sense strains
L ook out, but find no one, the eerie feeling remains
K nowing fear won’t go away if I don’t face the stalker
E xplore boldly I must, encounter the equipoise breaker
R esolving strongly in impulse I look back in the hollow
S talking me I perceive is the creepy mind in my shadow.
September 2, 2021
Contest : Message In An Acrostic 2
Sponsor : Kim Rodrigues
Let’s not ask of death,
no matter how near or far
death has nothing to say,
or not talk of life only the living of it.
Hove to anywhere,
shove off from any place,
there is no map to an answer,
besides, each answer is an anchor.
The longest goodbye is hello.
An eagle soars because it can,
crickets will rub their legs,
hermit crabs change shells
outgrow themselves until trapped.
Mountains of climbers raise the sea level.
Over dead worlds suns also rise.
A beating heart is only a question.
A twitch of an eye signals forever.
Trump A Prissy President
When America wants to get in groove,
Trump as a prissy President remove;
Give much slack;
Never come back;
Hear him leave and horse's each hove.
Jim Horn
a scant mere
seconds to late, when with a crash, which near
concussion smacked noggin
hard against blocky chunk hove ice
informing gap toothed email
(actually, that incident
me quite traumatized),
i.e. unpreparedly tasting solid rock hard material -
with ugly reflection that didst stare
from a looking glass re: mirror,
which aye avoided at all possible costs where
to cast and fit mouth
with a provisional crown entailed maybe a year.
necessitating cupped gloved hands
to punctuate every muffled word
to be but barely heard
akin to talking with mouth full of custard
above the quiet riotous mirth
analogous to twittering bird
winning sympathy from parents,
who did level best to tend distraught son
who ushered playback of events
with less disastrous rerun
praying for a high lee angel
to grant reverse outcome brought none
gut wrenching grief
immediately terminated former fun
damage irreversible
and perfect smile of pearly white
forever broke
NOT the least itty bitty funny, comical,
nor countenanced devastation done.
How does it feel to love
A gentle one, a dove
It feels like hands inside glove
To find one its rough
And you have to rove
On horseback, hove
I love u boo
A thousand years ago and more
upon a strange and distant shore
a maiden wept.
She watched and waited long in vain
within her heart a mounting pain,
she seldom slept.
O that my love might come to me
she cried her silent, doleful plea,
a stifled moan.
The sun would rise, the sun would set,
and still the lovers never met,
she stood alone.
Then hove a sail in view one dawn
as seabirds sang in tuneful song
to welcome home,
the one whose heart ached for the maid
with fortune won, his plans were laid,
no more to roam.
The thunder reached them well before
it's shadow flashed along the shore
as whirlwinds from the steady beat
knocked fleeing hordes from off their feet.
Thousands sprinted to the surf
except a few who had the nerve
and put up spirited defence
and fell in flares of heat intense.
Fast and low, wings whipped the waves
glistening scales of charcoal, Jade.
Skimming clifftops, banking right,
climbing until out of sight,
then corkscrew dive in view it hove
and settled in a quiet cove.
On rocky crag where beast had fetched
it gazed down on her wings outstretched,
mother of pearl breast warmed by sun
she looked up at the one who'd come.
Crimson eyes met gaze of blue,
"Vanilla's sold out- will chocolate do?"
For contest- 'Dragons', sponsored by Silent One.
October 19th 2015
Happy we pals of battalions from villages born of love
And sweet tender mercies, unlike here entrenched
With the foe. Grey mists on the horizon, silhouetted hove
Of sallow composition; subdued and drenched.
Between us, in 'no man's land' a barren waste
Of limbs stacked high, orchestrating the way
Of death, foreshadowing yet even still the taste
To come, and soon; at the break of day.
Our friends, fathers, uncles and brothers
In arms; cleaving the ground of crimson red
Left on the battle scarred plains, with their mother's
Voices ringing out, as bells that toll the dead.
Then slowly faint whispers are heard amidst the grave
Of brown and grey. "Is that you John!Bill! Fred?"
"Is that you Hans!Jurgen!Emil!"? You the brave
Who fell, still living amongst the dead.
The shroud of death that covers distempered cries
Now lifting as both find their heroes of cause.
And naked transgression remains; signature of lies
And deceit; like whores showing no remorse.
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