Long Acquiescent Poems
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None keeps its inventory
But it creeps into a story
A story of a modern society
Which is plural in nature;
Partly of a rural nurture
Partly of an urban stature
Yet must remain together
Lest it falls a part
For unity is strength.
For peace.
To join these pieces to each other
That requires acuteness of thought,
That demands leaders of acuity,
Who are too acquiescent to it,
And well acquainted with it.
As it demands political acumen
That defines the acme of democracy.
Not autocracy,
Detests acidulous rulers,
Who develop quirks
To become acquisitive personalities.
Egocentric.
Raising their hands to quell the feelings
Ever in a querulous tone of voice
Ending up in quibbles
Both with the minorities,
And the majorities,
And sparing not the authorities.
To suck up to them.
To come up with funny quips
As quislings.
That all and sundry
Are left in a quandary;
Since to them
Neither a banana
Nor an orange
Or any other fruit
Can quench its thirst
Without a qualm about their stand.
And virtually nothing comes on a silver platter;
Always there is a price to pay later.
And not their dreams to shatter
Even though they dwell in the gutter.
But indeed a quid pro quo of a kind
That needs a lot of qusto to wind
And seems as distant as a pulsar
Whose drive you can’t quash
Whose desire you must succum
Whose desire is succint
To its acolytes.
Acquitted splendidly in its path
Without acrimony,
Without mean acrobatics.
Sociocentric.
Both full of sympathy,
And empathy,
And the acceptance,
And the appreciation
Of the uniqueness,
Of the diversity,
Of the peoples and cultures,
Nurtured by nature
For this is the real conquest of the quest.
A rose bud of beauty appears on the scene scented full of essence
two cellophane wings clinging to the petals of a sweetie floret
life becomes new again as spring resurges with sunlit liquescence
Springtime jewels enhanced by the blaze of a salubrious ray
glitters of the morning placing us among the living once again
acquiescent rebirth, we can finally envision a beautiful day
Baseball fields, cracking bats and whooping laughter glances
children playing in fields of flowers restored, revived, alive
park bench kisses, moonlit walks and balcony romances
Soon the days will seem much longer, as we stroll delightful
wildlife will re-echo her song, and we'll feel powerful ,
once again.
I have cried those violent prayers
hurled them, venom filled, cursing
all the powers that be - but aren’t.
Seething in the roiling pit of rage
alone amid the nothingness of all,
yet still felt the presence of a
something, a texture, a tenuous
touch of windblown curtain brush
against my clenched and hateful
fists. I pounded mercilessly on the
sands of doubt’s mirage, laid siege
the bastions of the liars, fled in
fear of a power’s lack of power.
A strength now shown so weak,
a vision’s searing heat laid cold,
an emptiness so full it led to
barren desolation, blank and
blackened dreams. I wept.
Not for me but for he who was
sacrificed so that I could become
me, for the child denied his chance
to live free of me, my hate, my rage,
my past, my pain. And so my prayers
are violent and loud in an effort to
awaken a deaf and distant God.
My prayers do not beseech forgiveness,
nor toss bouquets of unwarranted praise
to acquiescent arrogance. I pray not
for others who are capable of praying
for themselves. I pray as violently as
the wind blows, as heatedly as the
desert sun, as proudly as the leaves
of Fall, as meekly as the buds of
Spring, as coldly as the glacial gales.
I pray with the passion of the seasons,
the faith of a bumblebee’s pollination,
the hope of the sightless mole digging,
the love of the shrieking Eagle’s devotion
to the air currents. I pray as a Lark
who sing in empty canyons hearing
only the reverberation of his song.
I pray – for praying is the song of life -
and life - its voice.
John G. Lawless
9/3/2014
for Regina Riddle - Prayer poetry contest
oft times brutal not so short,
but nasty acknowledgement,
(this anonymous, conscientious, efficacious...
frivolous gent writhes at bloody history),
yet mindful premeditated how to be worthy,
and now feels forced to be acquiescent
(as well other citizens might) calling
(er...actually writing), an August
aegis body vowing to be adherent
to codas, doctrine, ethos...adjacent
with government sanctioned destruction,
and indefinite adjournment
of peaceful coexistence with native peoples,
who never accepted unfair (raw deal) adjustment
(most often forced with violence) preceded,
and/or followed by admonishment
of aggressive, corrosive, deceptive...
indiscriminate butchering and adolescent
women and children,
an irrevocable Janus-faced advancement
fate awaiting all aboriginal tribes
fueled by advertisement frequently with bounty
fast forward to present age of affluent
price tag to lobby and or represent
deliberate gerrymandered voting districts,
where trumped up agent orange
iz new black aggrandizement
finds Donny Brooks saturing the media
with proclamation defamation of this very day
stigmatizing valuable news as so subtly "FAKE"!
Shadow’s Passion
by Odin Roark
A child’s imagination holds light’s oft guised presence in wonder,
As adult recklessly consume its flame of spirit and heart.
Left behind are ashes of once conscious pursuits
Now reduced to icy coals of ignorance
Once the far off enemy of reason.
However…
Our innately wired candles
Desperately protect the threatened glow,
While ravenous hunger continues insatiate,
Stretching, invading, smothering
Life’s illuminative entitlement and privilege.
As the nescient pandemic rages
Nature’s glimmer fights back,
Casting ever faithful shadows at first,
Preparing for revealment,
Inviting children with dreams to enjoin as companion and buddy
While unsullied conscience finds continuance
And its rightful chance.
Fortunately…
Enough will discover light’s natural purpose
Its perseverance in gradually presenting epiphany’s overhead moment
When the undeniable becomes a singular reality,
When shadow’s invisible passion is embraced,
Even as adulthood’s arrival often threatens imagination
Into an acquiescent and shadowless landscape.
Vanished Like Mist
Now I wonder, ponder, persuade the mind to wander in an abyss of what may be
Plowed and clawed then probed to find a reason for frenetic rumblings within me
As time passed unabated, skin hides pain beneath waves of what these eyes see
The heart trembled: is myopia or enmity reason why I have not found Amy Lee?
Love is not a game man coerces into submission then drags its spirit underwater
Auguring, kneeling, begging will not make it acquiescent to what one may prefer
Precious memories evoked by the hungry heart impalpably depart and disappear
What remains are remnants, reminders of the haunting past...that I had lost her
06/17/2023
Vision of the Seas
Cruising towards Hamilton, Bermuda
Ah, to love again, rekindle lustless flame
too long allowed to fade in embered chill
renew within my heart forever's name
empty the space that only she can fill.
Oh, heart, how long the cold has had its way
smothering the warmth of touch or sight
imprisoning in endless gateless gray
love's gentle breeze adrift upon the night.
Must I, in solitude, accept this fate
resign myself to acquiescent fear
or rise and in my solitude orate
in whispered penitence into her ear.
Oh, love, would you embolden me once more
imbue me with the fervor of thy flame
admit that she's the one I so adore
and whisper to myself my lover's name.
1/25/2021
Christmas is calling~ Get your decorations out.
In these hard days, it will help you to not pout.
The lights don't belong in a box when people are filled with fear.
Get them on early, light them,and God you will be bring you cheer.
There's simply no reason to dwell on these insane times.
So decorate early, trust me, it will make your heart shine.
It's up to you, to make this the most joyous time of year.
Who cares what people think?
Most of the world is intoxicated on media covid-cocktail drinks.
And I do soulfully think that exaggerated fear plain stinks!
We are still social animals, who need one another.
For shame on all, who think we must hide at home under the covers.
Just saying~ living in lockdown since March?
Is more than any human should take, such a political farce!
It's more than disgusting to be blocked from spiritual solace,
BUT oK by government loons, to in gambling partake.
Or worse, allowed unlimited to harm others in a riot.
But to meet with the leader of the free world, no they won't allow it?
Drunk on fear, freedoms gone out the window.
Do you really think you will get them back, as you won't do a thing!
Or...Just hide in acquiescent shadows?
10-30-2020
2
I saw her walking down the darkened gallery,
Beneath unlit Venetian chandeliers,
I glimpsed her acquiescent smile
That never left her lips,
A smile that animated pleasure
And instilled a prick of wonder,
And an expanse of love.
With some embarrassing misdemeanor,
I tiptoed forth and fell in step with her,
I, bold and daring;
She, a feigned timidity in her mien.
Her flared skirt rustled softly against my leg,
And in the silence I felt
Her hand brushing against mine,
Her long fingers curled delicately
And intertwined with mine.
A moment of time, split second of ecstasy,
Our eyes met in a finite profound gaze,
And her lips quivered.
And then.....
All was as before.
Smoothly we drew apart,
Steps never faltering,
As she hurried away
Into a maze of corridors,
To meet her love.
..........Draw Me a World......
Draw me a world with God at its core.
Undaunted to be learned in classical
literature!
Draw me a world where a man knows
he and only he, is master of his human destiny!
Draw me is world where living for a
superficial prize, is but a sad vacuity!
Draw me a world where I give to others,
and realize so fully, we are all brothers!
Draw me a world not out to destroy good
leaders, fired up by evil, frenzy-feeders!
Draw me a world, where all children can
worship you in safely, in high acclaim!
Draw me a world, so when the day rises,
I turn my life over to you, totally in
acquiescent and enraptured praises!
5/5/2019