Long At loggerheads Poems

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The Two Unlike-Pole Analogy

THE TWO UNLIKE-POLE ANALOGY 

Analogically, this simplicity of poles might communicates 
extensive comparison of things life usually complicate. 
Just as the tale of "magno magnets", 
Like-poles repulsively repels even off a border 
and unlike-poles abnormally attract one another. 
The north pole of two magnets are set asunder;
Opposite poles of two magnets attract each other, 
but the like-poles are overly at loggerheads,
Similitude to electric charges which postulate same rules:
Like-charges repel, and unlike-charges attract.
This theory sums up the summary of a proven fact. 
The irony of life is, two different souls are match-made, 
We're bedazzled with such common rarity that doesn't fade.
It's sporadic to have two people with same traits
or cosmic (birthday) twins becoming soul mates. 
By taking a leaf out of the analogy of unlike-poles, 
attraction is established and so is unlike souls. 

Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP} 
Form: Rhymes 
Copyright©January,2023.
Form: Rhyme


Romeo and Juliet-Prologue Too

ROMEO AND JULIET – PROLOGUE TOO


The Montagues and Capulets never saw eye-to-eye.
A feud so deep, eventually, someone had to die.
At loggerheads for decades (no-one remembered the reason)
To fraternise together would be an act of treason.
They’ve traded insults every time they met upon the street,
Biting thumbs at each other, with neither conceding defeat.
But, in our play, two offspring, one from either side,
Fancy one another and will not be denied.
Romeo, a Montague, has hormones running wild
And Juliet, a Capulet, at thirteen but a child.
They fall in love completely and despite their parent’s abhorrence,
They sneak off in the morning to be married by Father Lawrence.
They share one night of passion (the law was different back then)
But then Romeo was banished so they never did it again.
It starts to get complicated now as Juliet takes a potion,
To make it seem that she is dead – cue scenes of high emotion.
Her lover returns before she awakes and poisons himself in remorse.
Then she comes-to and, finding him dead, she kills herself of course.
But this is just the prologue to get us under way.
If you want to know the full details, you’ll have to watch the play
Form: Couplet

Open Arms Welcome Poetry Muse

Ideally yours truly prefers 
a she/her who never got prosecuted for a felon, 
yet who most deaf fin knit lee  
possesses sound blinding killer instincts
think miracle worker Anne Sullivan
signifying rendering phenomenal success 
with one female named re: amazing Helen
exhibiting discerning admirable qualities
constituting intelligent witty male
despite his/him sports haunch size of a melon. 

I gently beckon inspiration
for dalliance with mother tongue
English Language, each
singular lettered manifestation
familiar to yours truly symbolized
by panoply, sans twenty six letters,

whereby this patient wordsmith
luxuriates, when writer's block
yields sudden gush,
nee burst of creativity
dissolving impenetrable wall
mental log jammed impasse,

discourages literary ambitions
dashed exerted forcefulness
'pon cerebral terra incognita
counterproductive grip locks
figurative drawbridge begetting
utmost frustration allowing egress

and ingress constituting obstructed surge
temporarily disabling free and clear
transmission between damned fount
barricading abundant bajillion ideas
silent at loggerheads clangor and din
analogous between unswerving enemies

prepared to fight till the death,
exhausting mental energy expended
attempting armistice with futile results,
hence quixotic oft repeated
time tested metaphor
i.e. deliberate pressure foisted

upon seat of aging cerebral matter
inadvertently coloring fist sized organ
at least fifty shades of gray,
versus unexpurgated brainstorming
linkedin with unfettered restraint
breeds favorable prodigious ideas

jotted/ typed stream of consciousness fashion
modus operandi favorable to engender
receptive access, asper (gas) excellent see
i.e. entrance untrammeled leeway
with minimal clash of opposing
titanic invisible entities
thus, aye abandon battering ram

to experience positive outcome
giving good n plenti profuse flood
unstoppable geyser spewing
plethora of appealing material
to arrange into cogent affinity, 
energy, magnanimity and synchronicity!

Premium Member On Everest

I stand on top of world. I’ve won!
I’m a statue frozen solid -
On tippy-toes I’ve reached the sun.

I took a showering from cloud.
I’m bitten up with frosty snow.
Too late for me to brag out loud.

This sunny sphere won’t help unfreeze.
On Everest, I’m cold of brain,
Too full of pride, to bend my knees.

Could artist rush to see me there,
and would he chisel me like wax,
to find my form - for I am bare.

And would a poet shed some tears
and make believe that I was brave
or struggle with our greatest fears?

Who’d music bring to sing of me?
Are sirens here at top of world
and have they climbed so far from sea?

On tippy-toes I’ve reached the sun.
There, fire and ice at loggerheads.
Deceived of life - it’s death, I won.

8/31/2022
Form: Rhyme

A World We Seek

“All minds and hearts connected with love and light of universal consciousness, in a flicker free continuum ~ what does life on such a planet look like?”
      -	Unseeking Seeker



Together as One,
One voice and one song,
One goal they pursue,
This heartedly they do,
A mission to accomplish.

None indulge in recrimination,
Turbulent waters abated,
War is not an option,
None is at loggerheads,
Crime does not lurk around.

Equitable distribution of resources,  
All stand on equal footing,
Benevolence is at the helm of affairs, 
The strong aid the weak,
The mighty prop the weary.

Fabrics interweaved into one colourful piece,
Cultures integrated and tolerated,
Hands in hands they push against the tide,
The table is set for all,
There’s room for everyone besides.

A world we dream of,
Speculative future we envisage,
Tomorrow’s cities beyond our view,
Their internal architecture, classic and ethereal, 
Rays of hope permeate the space.




May 29, 2022,
Unity Consciousness Poetry Contest, 
Unseeking Seeker.


Premium Member The World Is Bleeding

who's got a tourniquet?
         the world bleeds out of her limb.

she's anemic. the ship of world peace 
has sailed; existential chaos reigns supreme.
recourse to arms now the go-to solution 
for nations at loggerheads. bellicose, 
sanguinary; they're way past handshakes.

who's got a tourniquet?
         the world bleeds out of her limb. 

just how friendly are the skies nowadays?
bombs now and then drop like confetti,
leaving rivulets of tears, sorrow,
and horrific bloodletting, all the while,
captains of complacency keep mum.

who's got a tourniquet?
         the world bleeds out of her limb.

the side of death falls a brooding shadow.
innocent men, women, yes, children, too
- collateral damages of war - bombed 
to oblivion; their dwellings reduced to rubble.
what's the endgame to this monstrosity?

who's got a tourniquet?
         the world bleeds out of her limb.

as the stiff collar of cold indifference 
tightens to an asphyxiating noose,
chin-stroking heads of state seem lost 
in confusion; many have turned a blind eye.
oh, what to do? is this a new normal?

who's got a tourniquet?
         the world bleeds out of her limb.
Form: Lyric

Open Arms Welcome Poetry Muse

I gently beckon inspiration
for dalliance with mother tongue
English Language, each
singular lettered manifestation
familiar to yours truly symbolized
by panoply, sans twenty six letters,

whereby this patient scrivener
luxuriates, when writer's block
yields sudden gush,
nee burst of creativity
dissolving impenetrable wall
mental log jammed impasse,

discourages literary ambitions
dashed exerted forcefulness
'pon cerebral terra incognita
counterproductive grip locks
figurative drawbridge begetting
utmost frustration allowing egress

and ingress constituting obstructed surge
temporarily disabling free and clear
transmission between damned fount
barricading abundant bajillion ideas
silent at loggerheads clangor and din
analogous between unswerving enemies

prepared to fight till the death,
exhausting mental energy expended
attempting armistice with futile results,
hence quixotic oft repeated
time tested metaphor
i.e. deliberate pressure foisted

upon seat of aging cerebral matter
inadvertently coloring fist sized organ
at least fifty shades of gray,
versus unexpurgated brainstorming
linkedin with unfettered restraint
breeds favorable prodigious ideas

jotted/ typed stream of consciousness fashion
modus operandi favorable to engender
receptive access, asper her excellent see
i.e. entrance untrammeled leeway
with minimal clash of opposing
titanic invisible entities
thus, aye abandon battering ram

to experience positive outcome
giving good n plenti profuse flood
unstoppable geyser spewing
plethora of appealing material
to arrange into cogent synchronicity!
Form: Elegy

She said her name was Amahle

Mere gaze to her direction, goosebumps perforates my skin
There's something out of this cosmos in her aura. 
Sense and meaningful in me, 
at loggerheads trying to define her. 
Tap into my senses, the mess is beyond containing, 
melting seduction, dripping all over my body. 
caught within dungeons of my own heart desires

Her radiating flawless pigment,
complimented by her smile
I'm gasping for breath, 
fear I may be palpitating

Ease the volt, In my now state,
 I fail to keep up
The strikes are too strong to bear
Woman daughter, be gentle on me

My only crime, is falling in love 
Peep closer, see the bruises on my knees,
 from kneeling and praying for a better half. 
Lil did I know, heaven would delegate a goddess
In a human form

Back on my knees, 
Palm to palm, 
Sending gratitude to heaven
For not only listening but responding to my prayer. 
Today, in my mailbox, a gift wrap was delivered, 
Signed xoxo Amahle
#Poetic_ink

Zionism Fever

The Middle Eastern watch
As the Zionist regime tries
To assert its territorial area

Territorial integrity now threatened
They unleash terror on their enemies
Its called the holy land but why now
In the name of all that's sacred and holy
The continuous strife and endless wars

They talk of Abrahamic faiths at loggerheads
Be it though that The Lord is a Man of War
But why is it that us humans can't coexist

Even when our religions preach peace
There are always undertones of war
Call it Jihad or a Holy war.. blood shed
Is still abominable.. when did human life
Cease to have value.. now bombs drop

Then the retaliations are organized daily
Then the entire world watches the fever
Praying the virulent middle Eastern fever
Doesn't spread into the entire region
Praying that 'The end' will not come soon..
Even so the Word asserts come soon Lord

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