I don't spar with your half-truths any longer.
I don't wade into those spicy justifications for marginal behavior.
I've accepted it as the fabric of you.
I need to flee this chamber of carnage.
Some fancy to call it your heart.
He came bearing
a polished memoir,
wrapped in the grammar of duty,
stitched carefully
with the threads of allegiance.
The pages marched proudly—
disciplined, measured,
dressed in the language
of statecraft and survival.
Yet beneath the polished sentences,
ghosts wandered barefoot.
The ashes still remembered
the names of children
history buried too quickly.
Mothers still carried
silence like broken calabashes
upon their heads.
And the rivers of the East—
they have not forgotten.
For memory is stubborn.
It sleeps lightly.
It wakes
at the sound of old justifications.
He spoke of unity,
of difficult choices,
of burdens carried
for the preservation of a nation.
But nations are not preserved
by eloquence alone.
Sometimes history kneels,
not for defense,
but for repentance.
And so the book arrived
like rain that touched the earth
without entering it.
For many sons and daughters
of the red soil,
it sounded less
like a full reckoning
and more
like a door left half-open—
an incomplete confession
standing quietly
before a wounded generation
still waiting
for language heavy enough
to carry sorrow.
Do I have a paramount situation
That should demand my attention?
What are some manifestations
Of improved communication?
Are there justifications
For my expectations?
What are the causations
For my present irritations?
What are some adaptations
I should make for others' limitations?
Do I differ from a criminal
Is the difference minimal?
I want money, so does he
He just wants it more, you see
So much more that he takes it,
if there’s a rule, he breaks it,
builds himself rationalizations,
Tosses off justifications
We all rationalize,
dress our motives in disguise.
He feels entitled, so much nerve
But don't we feel we deserve?
Though we know its not right
We feel envy, rage, and spite
So maybe those knobs are turned up more
I'd like to ask him, but he'd be sore.
Is it a matter of degree?
Or is there a chasm between him and me.
Is it life's blows made him that way?
Was he moldable like clay?
Good men have done bad things
Like an angel that lost wings
Is there a lift to regain the crown
or is there just one way; and that way's down?
Realizing the pain of your heart deep inside,
Seeing through the subtle lies,
No longer speechless when intimidations rise,
Seeing the assumptions are their justifications to hide,
When the truth comes out, the pretend defend,
The accuser attacks the heart on the mend,
And so it tries to reverse the healing and just reignites and proves,
It's just more confirmation that God has shown them the truth,
And denying it won't change it, it just sweeps it under the rug,
And so then how can they mourn it and pray out of love,
He said in the end what is right would be wrong, and what is wrong would be right,
What is hidden in the dark room will come to light,
Seeing the deception, the avoidance of the truth,
Knowing that you must face these things in order to heal you,
When the poem became tears
As the ink drips,
I have become an emotional basket case.
My keyboard squeals, as the businessman's anxiety climbs
At the sound of the opening bells,
Tariff wars targeting the poor,
Evil Eyes merges with the Texas Tycoons
What is the poor trader's offense?
Going once, going twice,
To be poor is to be honest,
How can honesty be the best policy
Knowingly, a poor man can never win a war with a rich man
Going once, going twice no deal
Tariff wars targeting the poor:
“They fought with them, we feel the pain
Forget the old saying, you scratch my back
I scratch yours, what are the poor man's justifications
Tighten your podiums, ring your bells
And remember the words,
“They charge us, we charge them,
Why is the world upset?
Aggression, depression, and the will to survive
Inferior and permanent: listen to
Bob Marley's “War song we will always be in war”
The rockets rain down again
With explosions ripping then
And the war dogs growl and rage
With another war in Palestine’s page
Hamas strikes and kills
With civilian blood that spills
Do we see justice again
Or just more hearts hardened then
There are justifications made on each side
With fists pumping against what they cannot abide
And what is left for the world to see
Faces pleading staring back at me.
© Paul Warren Poetry
All answers affect aspirations
By belittling bygone barbarizations
Constantly criticizing correlations
Defined dumbfounded dictations
Edicts evaporate everyone's expectations
Foregone frustrations failed flirtations
Gone great grace giving generations
Harmonies have harmonious hesitations
Impotence influences indignations
Justified judicious justifications
Killing kaputz keratinizations
Living life lonely leaves lacerations
My muse motivated monumental mutations
Nonsense needed no normalizations
Offended overintellectualizations
Past promises purely placations
Questioning quarreling quotations
Resisting relevant restifications
Sentient solutions solve segregations
Total trust triumphs trepidations
Utopias undermined ultralizations
Viciousness visualized victimizations
Worthless weaponizations
Xenodochial xenophilications
Yawn Yuppifications
Zenith zealousness zendrifications
Black Magic Potions
Across vacancy memories invoke forgotten years
Exodus from antipathy inscrutably liberates fears
Intransience spiritually battles amoral challenges
Crucially revitalized measures presaging changes
Deceptions obscure lies within fraudulent sleeves
Bringing adversaries down indictments aggrieves
Justifications echoing beyond overpowering roars
Unlike forsaken vessels reality lands upon shores
Probing mortal frailties evading blind perceptions
Enlightenment transcend old black magic potions
Delusion transmogrified into vanishing blemishes
Swept along eroding waves of abandoned wishes
09/11/2013
Aboard cruise liner:
Splendour of the Seas
Russia valiantly fights 'a war of defense'
against Ukraine which 'has given offense'
Can Russia depose 'the Nazi, Zelensky?'
to end Ukraine's 'genocide of slaughtering Russenkis?' (aka Russians)
Russia's 'defense of her people' is understandable
But are NATO's policies all-so-commendable?
NATO says 'Nyet' to to No-fly Zones -- 'too provocative'
~ Russia laughs at such 'justifications' for her to use her prerogative
________________________________________________________
Russia bombs a maternity hospital and a nuclear reactor; levels whole
towns; shells civilian apartment complexes indiscriminately -- and NATO
can't OK a 'No-Fly-Zone' -- a DEFENSIVE tactic! -- to stop it?!!! For the
sake of humanity, when will Western leaders find the courage to FIGHT
this second coming of the murderous liar, Hitler?!!!!
Borrow us a pilgrimage back to a time,
When the barn was our home...
Then; Adunni's beauty wasn't her doom
Today, Responsibilities hound me away from promises...the treaties I made
That I won't ever leave your shadows, how much more you.
Let us run through circus, for cosmic molecules we are,
Shattering imaginations and love, and then lies too
Now on that pendulum, I watch my tomorrow,
Wide mouth agape, for fear of troubles and:
considerably more penury!!!
Timor Mortis conturbate me, my maker; and
Like Catherine in Heathcliff's eyes,
Everywhere I turn, I see their ghosts, with justifications why they shouldn't have ended up with me...
We aren't losers, but strugglers of time and uncertainty; I hope you hear me, lad!!!!
And;
Now I understand what responsibilities mean...
Itunumi-Solace
For love and lies.
10/14/21
Everything follows you home,
Your skin is denying,
The usual monochrome,
For grip marks applying,
The shell of your catacomb.
Parts are tempted to find out,
The severity of,
Anything I’m forced to doubt,
For the sake of our love,
Entwined in roots yet to sprout.
Gesture or reason won’t sway,
Expel every sentence,
Justifications convey,
Your pleas for repentance,
In the complete wrong way.
You’re useless as a disgrace,
And cliché as lovers,
I don’t need to see a trace,
Your dress barely covers,
Areas that aren’t my place.
This betrayal severs my spine,
My newfound awareness,
Lowers me down from your vine,
And into the bareness,
Of a concrete chalk outline.
Quintain (Sicilian) - Emile Pinet
I’ve read too many
Words – adjectives and adverbs
Poetry and prose
Both delicious with color
And captivating with feeling
Like music, they have charmed me
My mind absorbs their excuses
Benefiting from their reasons
Justifications that count
Me one of the spellbound
One of the awestruck
One trapped by names
Styles and expressions
Terms and verses
Disputes within the passages
I have read them
Devoured them with a hunger
That is almost a living thing
Forcing me to wolf them down
Like the glutton I am
I am surviving in the face of blood
I can not seem to find the words
I need to say as I feel my way
Through the faves of society
Only to change us
As they laugh with apathy
They try to take our purity
And our reverence
They try to control us with
Thier demented justifications
Of their way of saying they are right
With their alternative motives
That they try so hard to hide
with our tenacity we must endeavor
To audaciously stand up for ourselves
Stand up for brotherhood
Summer of 2005
Sally harris aka alex
You think you are strong,
That you have control over yourself,
But then, events lay their violent hands on you,
And all your strengths get shattered into pieces
Like a glass hitting a rock
Your eyes betray you
Tears start rolling down your face
Your voice begins to tremble
Your heart lowers its music
Reasons, justifications, excuses you give
Weak, unworthy, and lonely you feel
Your heart screams, your lips narrate it to them
Nothing wrong have you done
Your discourse dose have weight
But they don’t care…
It all seems a drama to them,
Or just a natural penance!
They too, deep down, might feel bad
But they show it not,
Will expressing their love make them weak ?
Or listening to your heart will make them lose?
So, as usual, they wrap another layer of anger over love
Instead of saying “it’s okay”, they yell
And you feel like a bird, broken, lying in a cage
And if you dare to respond back
It will take the argument to yet another level
Nothing will be left
Nothing, without regrets and sorrows
Is this life too long to love or to live happily?
Do we have to make it hell to live it??
(paghunda)
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