The miracle
Is the appearance
Of separation..
An impossibility
Expressed without
Explanation..
Justice or JUST US -
It seems to be - that this is NOT -
Just a trend, but a common thread,
To how things seem to work -
And no I'm not being woke,
Us Black people just seem to know,
How -
This world works.
We see with our eyes open,
They see with wilful ignorance,
Double standards become the white man’s self fulfilling prophecy,
A legacy -
Created to keep Black people in a state of misery,
In a state of unwanted complacency,
In a state of anxiety -
Of an unknown future,
Where self defence is a life sentence,
And being attacked is a death sentence
Justice was never for US,
Just for U -
Who?
Non Black people -
They get excuses,
We get damnation,
Their violence is proof - of abuse,
Our innocence - twisted to fit the narrative,
Damned if we defend ourselves, damned if we don't,
Either way we don’t get to go home,
A body bag or a prison cell?
Either option is a different version of hell.
Justice is not for us -
A Black person.
We do not get the privilege of impartiality,
Just the label of guilty,
Where the colour of our skin -
Meant justice was a case we would never win.
I chased a shadow up a sunlit hill,
it lengthened every time I thought it near.
By dusk, I learned pursuit obeys no will:
what flees the hand is never caught by fear.
The
utter impossibility
of no separation
or separation~
yet an immediacy
of a streaming
dance of separation~
may seem astounding
and ordinary~~
It's an impossibility,
all things have an identity,
even poor John Doe is now known
by that simplest of nom de plume.
Meanwhile on the news over there
the suspect it's said has gray hair,
with a purple shirt and red hat;
what kind of fashion sense is that?!
Rain is the rain; sun is the sun,
the tallest tales are often spun
by one who has nothing but fear
and feels safe when spreading a smear.
And, so, for your information
I'm just a conglomeration
O, why did I fall for you, O' sun,
When my soul is nestled in the deeps?
Agape and afraid, my eyne mosey deeper still; they run,
Yet on the colder current your warmth invitingly sleeps.
The distance that defies the divine betwixt us
Somehow is no occlusion for you to reach me,
But gods 'gainst me guarding your gates, and hope's quietus,
Make my valentines reaching you an impossibility.
Somehow still, suffocated in these sorrowful seas,
I seem to mishear the rhythm of your limpid light
As a melody yearning to find the lost keys
To my manacles and enrapture me with your sight.
When finally I undo these tethers for you,
The cosmos Herself derides my dolorous deeps
Laved in a longing that over millennia grew,
And shrouds your smile with a prejudiced eclipse.
But I see you clad carnally in that cerecloth--
Why?--stoking the gypsy in me with your misconstrued call.
Why did you build that stairway of light and masquerading troth,
That I so eagerly took, thus perishing in a fall?
The speaker
Is challenged..by
Impossibility..
One word spoken
Speaks of
Separation..
Even to say
Not-two..is two..
Apparently
No escape
From two..
Apparently...
Why do you still chat
With that Common Rats?
As blind as A Bat;
A Gathering Fat?
Yes, I’m dead upset
And for Bad Fight set.
Would for A Gossip
Who lets his lips slip
Where had Poor Chloe stashed
The money she cashed
That could widen eyes
And trigger Wish Cries…
I know A Callow:
At theft who’s shallow;
The idea A Brow
Would never allow.
Just do nothing; it is impossible: having such mindset kills
For no one defines what quality is needed for possibility
Unless we've forgotten luck is lurking somewhere in the world
To bless the fate awaiting an irrefutable fulfilment you own
Just do it; nothing is impossible: an encouragement that fuels
Your eagerness in believing your heart's trials for great success
And the need to less the failure resisting thy adaptability
Be prepared always to sail through every ups and down
With such, life's threats will become a source of strength
As it keeps saying impossible; you keep pushing through grace
And saying bold at mind "nothing is ing crazy impossible"
You owns to make good and evil dead or alive .
O, Mortal Goddess of the Heavens Seized,
Whose Name, pleasant, doth make my heart to quake
There’s naught I would not bravely do to please
Thee well, all wisdom, surety, I would forsake,
If only you would draw nigh unto me...
There is no better thing than that bright hope
That I, once more, may see your holy face!
There is no sand, wov’n into better rope
Than that from which I weave my perfect grace:
That I may hold thee soon against my heart,
That I, thy tears may with my kerchief dry,
That you will come to me by Heaven’s Art,
And we will bide awhile, you and I.
But if this cannot be, then I must climb
The mountains’ rocky faces, turn back time.
I'm glad to remember you,
spent days and night
in this unusual task...
Yes because no longer
you are with me
oh eternal lover
of my illusion... !
You sustain
my spirit, making me
create poetry...
Put me in time
and in space, in
wait for the impossibility
of our reconciliation... !
To us as poets
the almost impossible missions...
Not just counting the grains of sand,
as well as sewing them one by one...
Not only to be intimate, but
paint the face of the Lord...
Be aware of the dreams of the winds
and transform it our private birds..
Train other clay birds
and order them fly our routes...
Also, recite our verses...
To the sea, not only supply it
with our rainy tears,
as well to shelter it from the pirates...
Not just mending the sins of the world,
but to teach it How to pray for us...!
Only a poet can be thus
so impossible...!
Showing a whim, a fancy or grin
are typical expressions of children,
adults deviate from pragmatism
and pay more attention to realism...
while eagerness and enthusiasm
take us further than anything imagined,
or even something previously envisioned!
Transform your impossibility into something concrete,
nothing sounds more jovial than bubbling streams,
than the vivid colors of striking and serene sunsets;
only watercolorists make their scenes come alive on canvas
and explore stroke by stroke their persuasive imagism.
Anything that's bright-colored and vibrant dispels schism,
and on unexpected occasions, they improve their technique!
When portraits and landscapes appear to us too realistic,
it's only seen through the painters' eyes as intrinsic:
to all humans, they seem a showcase of indisputable talent,
not realizing that what they're expressing becomes their insight!
The degree of impossibility decreases as the degree of our efforts augments.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 February 2021
cannot fly but does
her bumblebee confidence
trumps the doubters
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.