I let it slip away
I know who was right who was wrong.
I know the truths and the lies.
I know the fake ones and the real ones.
I know your ways more than you do.
I know the tricks you play.
I know the ways you suck up to people.
I know the relations far long before you do.
I know the fakeness all right..
That's why I talk.
I talk not out of need but pity.
I talk not out of loneliness but sympathy.
I talk with you not for the days you have your real ones.
I talk with you for the days you have none.
I ignore your backtalks.
I ignore them not because I want someone to talk with.
I ignore them because of the lameness.
I ignore them because of the fits of laughter i fall in after hearing that.
That's why I say.
I know your ways your tricks your habits.
I know the things you are good at but,
I know ur weaknesses too..
I know them the things... Your "best friends"were kind enough to tell me.
Categories:
lameness, anti bullying, betrayal, bullying,
Form: Free verse
Now John and Peter went, for it was time to pray,
A beggar lame from birth encountered on the way.
They found him at the gate, called ‘Beautiful’, this one,
So named because, at day, it glistened in the sun.
And so he met them there, in need, with outstretched palms,
And as they passed him by, he asked to receive alms.
So Peter caught his eye; he said, “Now look at us.”
For they had things to say, had something to discuss.
“I have no gold to give, but what I have I’ll share,”
And in the name of Christ, he healed his lameness there.
He lept up from the ground and danced with joy; he walked!
The people ‘round him stared; they could not stop their talk.
Then all were praising God; they recognized this man.
A beggar man was healed, the one with outstretched hands.
(From Acts 3)
Categories:
lameness, bible, christian,
Form: Alexandrine
On daily basis producing their hyperactive arms
For their better-offs’ less automatic alms:
On lucky charity, therefore, badly dependent,
With things not looking quite resplendent.
The word ‘Pauper’ fitting their circumstance,
Year after year, not exceeding a certain distance.
In their quest for help, increasingly instinctive
And like lawyers, by dress distinctive:
Theirs an unplanned celebration of shabbiness
With a sickening inclination to hairs of shagginess.
Beggars, though there are, who gorgeous clothes put on,
On purpose trying to win onlookers’ good opinion:
The pass-mark of character who channel their pity
To only The Sophisticated in their society.
Still beggars there are by laziness manufactured
On their physique no injuries nor the restructured
Nor, for that matter, the obvious blindness
Nor observable lameness;
Able-bodied men we shouldn’t have assisted,
Until they have persisted
With aspiring tuneful voices aiming to mesmerize us
Or comic displays such as one loves.
Beggars might remain people of lowly station
Further pitted against reduced expectation.
Categories:
lameness, endurance, grief, poverty,
Form: Rhyme
Not impressive? Not attractive?
It’s brutally nonaligned to your stature
It doesn’t appeal to your senses?
‘cause the same never attracts.
So, what if superpowers would be lame?
They wouldn’t have lacked in all constructive ways
But the idealness still would have remained the same
Because the void cannot surpass the opaque.
The power to reveal and not to unveil
Lameness would have unlocked every case
The charismatic leader would be on common grounds
Adhering to the core, foregrounding the real drenched in pernicious.
Categories:
lameness, conflict, creation, growth, introspection,
Form: Blank verse
When mom, Naomi, was your mom not quite,
she was a barista at the Starbucks
just blocks away from where your thunderstruck
dad used to curse the name whose will to write
mistreated sonnets never metered right.
In those days, my daughter, a word like schmuck
would suit your father, quite determined luck,
not talent lacked, should bear the blame for shame
that came from lameness littered kiddy rhyme.
But, with each finished turd, your dad (undeterred)
would march to Starbucks like he’d made a name,
and talk to mom, who taught me, overtime,
love and beauty’s praise are sonnets’ preferred.
Categories:
lameness, daughter, love, poetry,
Form: Sonnet
Fine tussled forelock hides unbridled pain
from stifle-lameness acknowledged too late,
withering lesser those few that remain
watching as Stormcloud takes one final gait.
Soft drizzled rain-drops accompany booms
heard where each hoof tramples dirt into dust.
Mist escaped muzzle while ignorance looms,
glistens sheen gaskins long aching to bust.
Once thought sickle-hock due to fetlocks swelled
above coronets seen infected ill,
was quick dismissed by an owner compelled
to squeeze one dollar more from Stormcloud’s till;
Then came three races, one after the next,
which saw champion-spirit’s finest display;
Torturing sandscapes while weary croup flexed,
determined as anguished frogs made ovals pay.
He gave all he had and had no remorse,
For ended trots brought by one greedy soul –
Stormcloud indeed was a hall-of-fame horse,
erased when friendship went out at the poll.
10/2/2016
Categories:
lameness, horse,
Form: Quatrain
When life slips into sameness
And the days go drifting by,
Those who shuffle, feeling aimless,
Should find other fish to fry.
For the bored are never blameless
Since there’s so much they can do
Without being bold or shameless
In the projects they pursue.
We can all claim sloth or lameness
If we fall into a funk
But to overcome the sameness,
We must rise from where we’ve sunk.
Categories:
lameness, life,
Form: Rhyme
Meaningful
From the moor cries were genuine
Not betrayal it was
A cosmetic topped democratic
Poor quarrels were hopeful
Lying down in icy cool
Majority of halves, got torture being fool
Things are right, things are right
Gentleman's notes from air
In warm and costlier coats
Guys! view seriously them
Plied in open cool
Binding hands like accepting
Besmeared tyranny from both sides
Yes, this is the way I experienced
My favourite freedom
Earned shedding blood of youths
I supported them blindlessly
Doing nothing
Just being a visitor heartless
Both were succouring me seeking
Corroboration meaningful
In meaningful tips
Pelted stones and blank fires
Instigated me run run
How could I and others do
Being a demonstrator lameness.
Yet, in North Big Himalaya assures
Across the world numerous friends
Helpless those and me
Breathing cold air in morning sun
Will be solved, tears down
In the evening welcoming gloom
Still in the pages of heroes
Wait, stay and learn
Be calm always, east burns sun.
Categories:
lameness, absence,
Form: Blank verse
I return my ungratefulness
for all your help and tenderness
that dwarf my potentials from incipient
and i here boast my lament
for you are the pilot of my lameness
a gift and a hope of darkness
the weather is now inclement
for my tall horns of incompetent
for all my walls are build with weakness
i should have known the gladness
of hard work, spend and be spent
but i trust in fig men for a tent
this is your legacy of unfruitfulness
for me to succeed after your likeness
but i reject you today and resillent
because in real world your name has no
reverent
Categories:
lameness, depression,
Form: Clerihew