Reinforced Cement concrete
With an Iron lady
Even though
Stirrup
Even though
lintel
blinded
Pitfall
The curry staid " (qawwamuna)"
And we eavesdropped
Not to the ecstasy
(“not the wrongdoers and not the astray”)"
The night comes down like iron,
cold on my shoulders,
pressing its verdict into bone.
I walk through the ruins of myself~
rooms gutted by old hungers,
mirrors cracked from staring too long
at my own small griefs.
Every shadow hisses
its familiar gospel of failure.
I almost believe them.
Then~
a thin gold seam
splits the rubble.
Not loud.
Not triumphant.
Just steady.
Christ steps through the fracture,
dust rising around His feet
like surrendered ghosts.
He does not flinch
at the wreckage.
He touches the broken lintel
as if it were a beloved brow.
My darkness folds inward,
ash collapsing into ash~
and still His light
keeps blooming
in the hollows.
I stand there,
ruined and radiant,
a house on fire
with mercy.
THE MIRRORED MUSE OF THE MIRROR MAN
Golden threads upon his headgear crown,
White attire as robes flowing, drifting down.
Against a canvas red, his spirit shines,
A thousand faces, splintered across places, one design.4
A regal calm, with no alarm, a timeless grace,
Yet fractured mirrors, cracked interiors, frame his face.6
Echo, echo, shards of lintel light,
Fragments dancing in the night.
Each shard a story, each glance a flame,
Whispers of God's glory, echoes of name.¹°
Every mirror sync with my life's aim,
Every rhythm fans my fervent flame.¹²
Step by step, the story sways,
Tradition emboldened in woven ways.
Pride and honour, bold and true,
Reflected skies of crimson hue.¹6
By experience woven, pride adorned,
A spirit unbroken, richly worn.¹8
And in the silence, still and grand,
History and future carried in his hand.
I am one soul, yet many visions span,
A man of dexterity and posterity, borne of woman.²²
I'm one who's not just reflected in fragments
But carried into history & beyond forever radiant.²4
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?15th February 2026.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PRETTY WITTY
Cocktail thirsty : Mocktail, Green tea.
Few Males naughty : Females pretty.
Toe nails: Twenty ; Vessel empty.
Slow snail, safety ; Cat- tail, fatty.
Road- rail dusty ; Snow, hail frosty.
Gravel: Grotty ; Pastel: Arty.
Lintel faulty ; Snacks sale: Salty.
In jail: Guilty ; Egg shell : Poultry.
Chisel : Acuity ; Repel: Pity.
Rebel: Haughty ; Nobel: Petty
Angel - Deity ; Blue bell: Beauty.
Slipped fell Humpty ; Ankle twisty.
Novel Party ; Revel: Sporty
Bread-gel : Tasty ; Ship sails: Hasty
Stay well: Hearty ; Gone Hell: Dirty.
E-MAIL: IT ; Marvels Mighty.
Without shed blood, no remission of sin,
A lamb was killed to clothe Adam and Eve,
On sides and lintel, Passover blood streaked,
A token of redemption to the Jews,
Animals' blood shed in Old Testament
for each sin that they did, known or unknown,
As we are sinners, blood has to be shed
To cleanse us all from innate transgressions,
Only one person's blood was untainted,
He took the form of man and on the cross,
Lord Jesus Christ shed his last drop of blood,
Thus, through His pure blood, we are washed from sin,
His blood gives us victory over death
and sin and protection from diseases,
Sealed by His blood - the real covenant.
17th March 2023
For Sotto poet's "B--forms and words" contest
It abides in the lintel, leaving only
to hunt in the klong.
It was here when we moved in,
we are the renting guests
living under a large Monitor lizard.
Dawn coffee on the loggia,
the jungle going to sleep.
The movement of rain,
pacing over green canopies.
The wooden house creaks
as the sun floats over blue mountains.
Soon the tiffin carrier will arrive
on her tricycle,
bringing coconut rice
wrapped in banana leaf,
some pork dumplings.
A meal shared
with a cat and a huge reptile
as we watch the hour uncoil.
RAVENous
Wickedly,
dressed in black satin,
corseted with passerine-ego —
she dares
the dawn to interrupt her feast,
afterall, SHE is the Queen!
beheading of the smallest of things,
the nibble of opportunity.
Vast is she, the moonlit sentinel,
fearsome in flight as her ebony cape
flaps open like the grim reaper — ripe,
as she lurks over the lintel.
He who tenders
money, braving twelve last straw dings
of the towering clock,
caterwauling about a nagging wife,
a no-good son.
No mercy
for the ungrateful,
she abandons berries and grains
for a heartier steal -
an alcoholic’s swansong.
7/7/2019
torn from weeping
tears inside out
storms come creeping
fears denied doubt
lesson me to read
teach me lovely
chair me to sit
tongue me mental
march my brains
with lintel flint
sparkling its
thems too
koo koo
me too
boo
boo
boo
who
am
i
torn from weeping
?
She vibrates, a chassis minus shock absorption.
A painting, the nude descends a staircase,
rings of Saturn etched in a vacuum tube.
Or Eniac of twisted cords and switchboards.
She isn't programmed to see light beams
spraying through the trees,
nor silver bearings of morning dew.
There are no bees plunging like pistons
in the flowers, no circuit board on the step.
She climbs the jamb as a bot returning to its task.
Monitors flicker as nanoseconds pass unnoticed,
but the galaxy ends at the lintel.
She's a child of Mir, suspended upside down
in a universe where falling isn't death,
but the failure of electrodes.
Then silent as a dead star she descends.
All drives cease functioning.
She is still as a scarab,
the light years casting sand dunes on sphinxes,
until legs spasm as though coding
a final matrix for iron butterflies waiting to be born.
The humble arch, so simple, so profound, so powerful
The arch is Pi in the sky, a curved concrete crescent
Supporting span of bridge or lintel
Inspired by rainbow, waxing and waning moon
Instilled by foot arch, caterary chain suspended
Upper segment of circle, Pi with curved bowed legs.
Compress concrete crush resolves, eliminates tension.
Keystone at apex of arch locks stack array of blocks
With Roman arch a symbol, old concept straggling time
Spilling from the lintel,
a pitcher saves the ice from anonymity,
rafters creak, the sounds of winter
rattle through the cabin eerily.
Memories of dead and gone,
whistles of wind, the monotony
whispers and drags through the days
like a chilling lament.
Hours slip by slowly,
embers gradually dying,
reminiscences stutter and fade,
no lasting testament.
Evenings and mornings
now bleed with the same deep regret;
losing his feeling,
he's as cold as cold can get.
Spilling from the lintel,
a pitcher saves the ice from anonymity.
Rafters creak, the sounds of winter
rattle through the cabin eerily.
Memories of dead and gone,
whistles of wind, the monotony
whispers and drags through the days
like a chilling lament.
Hours burn so slowly,
like embers refusing to ebb,
reminiscences stutter
and fade, no lasting testament.
Evenings and mornings
now bleed with the same deep regret;
he's losing all feeling,
as cold as cold can get.
Spilling from the lintel,
a pitcher saves the ice from anonymity,
rafters creak, the sounds of winter
rattle through the cabin eerily.
Memories of dead and gone,
whistles of wind, the monotony
whispers and drags through the days
like a chilling lament.
Hours slip by slowly,
embers gradually dying,
reminiscences stutter and fade,
no lasting testament.
Evenings and mornings
now bleed with the same deep regret;
losing his feeling,
he's as cold as cold can get.
Spilling from the lintel,
a pitcher saves the ice from anonymity.
Rafters creak, the sounds of winter
rattle through the cabin eerily.
Memories of dead and gone,
whistles of wind, the monotony
whispers and drags through the days
like a chilling lament.
Hours burn so slowly,
an ember refusing to ebb,
reminiscences stutter
and fade, no lasting testament.
Evenings and mornings
now bleed with the same deep regret;
he's losing all feeling,
as cold as cold can get.
The Cock and Bull in darkened street,
and the lintel like mahogany.
I liked the way the corner turned
and did this so abruptly.
I liked the shutters closed for night -
they were really quite appealing,
and never in the darkness grown
would you know that they were peeling.
The tram rails were in front of me
and darkened trams were moving,
and eventually I got on one
and left Bordeaux behind me.
1/13/216
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