CLEVER
One likes to think oneself as clever
Always ironic, and with a wry grin
Yet the great leveller is often poetry
As it sorts the wheat from the chaff
And rhyme and metre can be a faff
All is fair in love, war and creativity
Such that we must take it on the chin
And abandon our high seat forever
When that thought or image strikes
As cold logic succumbs to inspiration
Did the brain have a sporting chance
It doesn’t matter what may be true
As one grasps the irrelevance of I.Q
And respects taking an emotive stance
Free verse has a sort of perturbation
Resonant with what someone likes
So, cleverness was never an absolute
And courage is needed to just let go
Some final tweaks and edits may work
After all the arrows have been loosed
The one in the target is the mot juste
Yet off to one side, other words lurk
It’s what you think not what you know
And claims of genius one must refute
how earth measures unqualified success ~ survive global extinction
By
David Kavanagh
AFTER SNOW MELT
Their burden shed, trees now svelte -
Hidden beauties in luxuriant fir mantles
Stripped, sunning in balm light.
Grass, spruce, stream,
Once blank and touchless,
Crowd together, tactile, seamless.
Tall knolls the Leveller had smoothed
Shallow hollows had smothered ;
Landscape has fresh verticality.
Waking birds fill the sleepy silence.
Skyful white replaced by blue vault.
God has lost his achromacy.
LANDING
Big Brother's eye
beyond the sky
Saw it not sneak nigh,
round valley and hill,
gripping necks at will;
No Global Hawk, Predator,
Brigadier, Mirador,
nor fortress and tower high
Could site it here or there,
abridging lives to spare.
And as providers
keep a busy head
on their insecure daily bread,
even as they watch
in dread for the toll
on the new day's scroll;
And as the white angels contend,
with the Reaper's octopus hand,
And as old earth has to brace
For the Reaper's hasty pace,
Behold the mighty potentates
Of every creed,
of all Palace and House,
of every rank and race
Now kneel before Great Leveller Covid
and, on their clayey knees, plead
with him to spare their crown or mace.
Mohamed Mansouri
Tunis (Tunisia), on 14 April 2020
Have you heard
Of the ravaging virus?
That equal leveller;
That conforms everyone to the same corner
Some say it is the disease of the rich;
Some say it is for the poor,
Just like John 10:10
Its aim is to kill,destroy and devour.
Please stay at home,
Stay three feet apart
I do not want you to live six feet beneath
I do not want you to be laced in white
I do not want you to meet your fate somewhere amongst the cloud above
I do not want your family to be in deep grief.
Wash your hands without ceasing
Wash your hands without counting;
If you must count,
Like the number of time Mantis prays.
Like Wildfire in harmattan
Corona is but a wildfire
Suffocating,
Cutting into lungs like
An empty heartbeats gores into arteries
The rush,the spread,the death
I do not want your chest to be heavy,
Please stay safe.
The Sun will soon smile
We will all live.
Some suffering does not aspire to the Buddha’s kind
When the pound shop closes which is an ominous sign
Thanks God the jewellers continue to open their doors
Angry unwashed masses are difficult enough to restrain
But the bored wealthy masters might spark a revolution
If their well-deserved tastes were deprived of some spark
Class divide remains the beautiful face of glitzy diversity
Yet the danger is looming right behind a deviant facade
The great leveller has arrived in waves of moribund joy
Corona the crown of infection threatens the status quo
Does not discriminate too much about measures of wealth
Still when cast in a grave marble shines brighter than wood
17th March 2020
Prolonged illness
Doctor forewarned
‘Might prove fatal’
Family was prepared
“When time comes
Royal send-off
Matching elite status
Grand plans
Cavalcade of cars
Who’s who of society
Wearing unblemished white
Engaged in
‘Animated’ discussions on ‘Death’
Everything better than
That death in Mr X’s family”
.........
Old man’s wish-
Visiting Varanasi
.........
Trip made
Thereafter
Events happened too quickly
Riots nearby,
Complete lawlessness,
Movement impossible
Old man breathed his last
Family got stuck
Cremation couldn’t endlessly wait
Simple funeral
‘Death in Varanasi
Soul goes straight to heaven,’
Priest remarks
Small consolation this
Reason-
Death may be 'The Great Leveller'
But,
All pomp & show of
‘Death- The Event’
Had gone missing.
I saw you from the distance ;
I saw you in my dream ;
You are the queen of my dream.
When I saw you in actual;
You are far and behind from me.
Consciousness run in search of you;
I race by your side and sit with you,
But you never understand my presence
I'm leaving alone ,living alone in this obscure loneliness ;
Tears flows from my eyes;
My heart is not happy without you.
To the zenith of empty sky ;
And the lowest to the depth of the ocean ;
I call your name and seek to every one.
Admist was I in grave concern,
Thinking you would be with somebody's one.
When I finally come near and find you;
You belongs in the hands of the great leveller .
The ache of leaving behind is immense pain
Happier if I could see your bewitching smile.
My heart is crying;
It's crying alone all myself;
Come back and sit beside me forever;
Be my life and savour of my heart.
Oh I'm leaving alone in this desperate abysmal ;
Let me come with you and get together;
Let us make our life and get a charm life.
Thank you.
Every night a game of card is played,
four suits fates fortell;
for war is a great leveller
for infantry boys in battle.
Soldiers double-dare gambling,
day and night. All-in a game
of summer hearts; diamonds in spring;
clubs in autumn; and winter spades for graves.
Cards shuffled and dealt face-down,
in grimy hands, that hold all the cards.
Death is a great leveller
A balm for all our ills,
Frees us from every sickness
Without a need for pills.
Old rivalries forgotten
Buried under the sun,
Enemies turn cherished friends
For the role plays are done.
Know ether world is richer
With treasures ever be,
Yet we cling to dear life
Afraid that it would flee!
Essence of life is simple
It’s like ringing a bell,
Whose tolling spells happiness
With a magical spell.
The magic breaks not at death
Know this my mortal dear,
True happiness will unveil
When the heavens loom near.
***********
This game of golf as is this life,
Played all life, perfect still can't be,
Ever reminding of one’s wife,
Put on pedestal, upon tee,
Handicaps, roughs, bogies stay rife,
And played as if on edge of knife!
Easy to start, hard to finish,
And harder ever to master,
Followed like an unfulfilled wish,
Always one stroke from disaster,
As in life, handicaps bridge gap,
Eagles two, birdies claim one clap.
What rage be this game every age,
As many highs as there be lows,
A game ever on players grows,
Ageless be this sport in image—
To my liking a bit high brow,
Pricey clubs, carts, caddies in tow.
And if ye think you the ball drive,
Beware of game that drives you naïve,
This game of greens, good to relax,
Greener still goes envied player,
And greatest of a leveller,
Pro or novice likes it like sex.
_____________________________________________
Reflections | 01.10.04 |
As hour piled on hour and day on day,
Several years drove past as decades.
Past now etched in the sand dunes of time,
Displaced by the winds of a bygone era.
Sweet memories fondly remembered;
Several dreams now lived in reality.
Belief systems formed and strengthened:
Habits that hung on through these hours.
Relationships strengthened over time,
Acquaintances who are but strangers today.
Events that have been reinterpreted,
Worries that have now receded.
Priorities that have shifted;
Goals that have been reached enroute.
Wisdom that has been gained through failures,
Self awareness that has ensued.
Time that great leveller,
Who favours no one as friend or foe.
You are asked to take responsibility,
Judiciously exercising free will to grow.
Awarded 3rd place in the "Any Poem #34" Contest by PD
Death! Oh Death!!
Thou art the leveller
par excellence
Thou who kills without
mirth
Taking all souls from
hence and thence.
Pity is not in thy nature
Cruelity is thy second
name
Thou tread where no
living dare venture
Stealing souls all along
without shame!
Those with father thou
make fatherless
Parents thou suddenly
make barren hags
My friend thou made a
motherless
Wretch who lives
almost in rags!!!
Death! Thou art the end
to all souls
Existing far and near
the four poles!!!
Pondering in sloth riddled exile, Stained by resolute pixel batter
Mutilated by idea’s negligent dirty mudded and infested bath-water
Sharing the extreme imagination contrast reality.
Panic thrusted full pelt entrusted.
Money feeds such little it cares
Freelance breed suffering servant indeed.
The ubiquitous sleeve hidden and deceived
Laughing smiles teeth that gleam
Sweaty handshakes left unfilled and malice built
A practitioner of harmful concept
A leveller of nature’s milk.
DEATH OF THE SNOW HEAPS
Like full-bodied youngsters they ruled the street
For a while - rude, unchallenged strength sweet;
Their short life - immaculate seeming.
Hard heartless shells - cold, gleaming.
Now skin shrinks to a nothing-life-span,
Revealing cigarette ends, rusty beer can,
Chewing gum, mud-and-dirt: a midden -
Lifetime-accumulated and temporarily hidden.
Now, shrunk and cracked like old men’s skin
As they lie and die dissolute and thin,
They will soon be forgotten by all talk
As they bleed water across the sidewalk.
Their pile of dirty secrets will soon be
Exposed in the sun for all to see.
The spotless snow was a perfect concealer.
Death the leveller is also death the revealer.
……………………………………
NOTE
City snow heaps in the streets, lasting from November to March, become
filled with hidden trash, which is only exposed when the heaps melt in spring.
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