Long Blear Poems
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METAPHYSICAL MOMENTS
Upon my knee I come to thee
with my concern,to you,this plea
Chorus-I heard you speak,and so I wait
until my heart,with you relate
verse-so many times I ask and ask
inadequate to do this task
chorus-I know,I know,I hear your call
yet still hold back,frightened to fall
verse-at last I see and know within
strengthened by you,I can begin
chorus-A simple verse,from you above
to show to others Jesus love
after Robert Herrick TO GOD
Endwell me Lord,each day
be now my tongue,in all I say;
Endwell my all,from deep to deep
from dayspring,'til I sleep
after john keble's famous verse
Fill me once more,Holy Spirit to know,
Move me ,inside,you love to show,
Quieten my heart,now to play
Without rehearsal,on life's stage each phrase to say.
Speak,speak by thought,picture,word or deed,
Then in my weakness,your strength feed:
O teach my tomgue to quiet be,
Until you prompt,and all I say,is all of thee.
This double quatrain was inspired by
Abraham Cowley's (1618-67) 'Hymn to Light'
Make me O Lord your witness each day
teach my tongue, quieten my heart
open mine ears, to all, to me,you say
guide my eyes,when I see in part;
and then help others ,through these lips
to be blessed,toe to fingertip
Quatrain after Edward Taylor the first American poet
Sad is the heart so full of care
Of tomorrow's what will,will be,
Upon his sleeve,all life does wear,
For all to see
Cast down,choking with eyes that blear
No words can comfort or make free,
Thought frozen in yesterday's fear,
That none can see.
After Alexander Pope
Listen to me recite these Metaphysicals on youtube ichthyschiro
Upon my knee I come to thee
with my concern,to you,this plea
Chorus-I heard you speak,and so I wait
until my heart,with you relate
verse-so many times I ask and ask
inadequate to do this task
chorus-I know,I know,I hear your call
yet still hold back,frightened to fall
verse-at last I see and know within
strengthened by you,I can begin
chorus-A simple verse,from you above
to show to others Jesus love
after Robert Herrick TO GOD
Endwell me Lord,each day
be now my tongue,in all I say;
Endwell my all,from deep to deep
from dayspring,'til I sleep
after john keble's famous verse
Fill me once more,Holy Spirit to know,
Move me ,inside,you love to show,
Quieten my heart,now to play
Without rehearsal,on life's stage each phrase to say.
Speak,speak by thought,picture,word or deed,
Then in my weakness,your strength feed:
O teach my tomgue to quiet be,
Until you prompt,and all I say,is all of thee.
This double quatrain was inspired by
Abraham Cowley's (1618-67) 'Hymn to Light'
Make me O Lord your witness each day
teach my tongue, quieten my heart
open mine ears, to all, to me,you say
guide my eyes,when I see in part;
and then help others ,through these lips
to be blessed,toe to fingertip
Quatrain after Edward Taylor the first American poet
Sad is the heart so full of care
Of tomorrow's what will,will be,
Upon his sleeve,all life does wear,
For all to see
Cast down,choking with eyes that blear
No words can comfort or make free,
Thought frozen in yesterday's fear,
That none can see.
After Alexander Pope
My love-jaded heart will no longer respond to the sound
Of whispering raindrops in fall or a train passing by.
I've got brand new wings, yet so frail; I lose touch with the ground
To take to my fantasy velvet mysterious sky.
I'm fine in my bulletproof shell and I quit endless waiting
Like quitting an old nasty habit and moving ahead,
Exploring the worlds that my own deft mind is creating;
Old passion's extinguished along with one more cigarette.
Whenever I light one, its taste and its sweet bitter flavor
Remind me of sharing a kiss I imagined that spring;
If only that winter I'd been just a little bit braver,
This all would have come to the same tragic end in a blink.
The guise in the mirror of spring is a blear reflection
Of somebody already dead and forgotten at all
Yet standing the very last chance for the heart's resurrection;
I swear I'm back on my feet, you may shoot, I won't fall.
The past is all gone, so one day I'll forget to remember
And gladly discover I've chosen nothing to keep,
Awaiting another July and another December;
And now it's time to put down my pen and just sleep.
What dreams are to haunt me, I wonder? Next morning I'll know,
My mind is still blank as I'm totally sober toight;
My desperate thoughts and my fears are letting me go,
I'm ready to enter the kingdom of misty midnight.
I'm ready to enter the gates of tomorrow now,
Today is a legend and yesterday - just a mistake.
I'm crossing the line, I will make it all through anyhow,
Just happy to live and to breathe every morning I wake.
My love-jaded heart will no longer respond to the sound
Of whispering raindrops in fall or a train passing by.
I've got brand new wings, yet so frail; I lose touch with the ground
To take to my fantasy velvet mysterious sky.
I'm fine in my bulletproof shell and I quit endless waiting
Like quitting an old nasty habit and moving ahead,
Exploring the worlds that my own deft mind is creating;
Old passion's extinguished along with one more cigarette.
Whenever I light one, its taste and its sweet bitter flavor
Remind me of sharing a kiss I imagined that spring;
If only that winter I'd been just a little bit braver,
This all would have come to the same tragic end in a blink.
The guise in the mirror of spring is a blear reflection
Of somebody already dead and forgotten at all
Yet standing the very last chance for the heart's resurrection;
I swear I'm back on my feet, you may shoot, I won't fall.
The past is all gone, so one day I'll forget to remember
And gladly discover I've chosen nothing to keep,
Awaiting another July and another December;
And now it's time to put down my pen and just sleep.
What dreams are to haunt me, I wonder? Next morning I'll know,
My mind is still blank as I'm totally sober toight;
My desperate thoughts and my fears are letting me go,
I'm ready to enter the kingdom of misty midnight.
I'm ready to enter the gates of tomorrow now,
Today is a legend and yesterday - just a mistake.
I'm crossing the line, I will make it all through anyhow,
Just happy to live and to breathe every morning I wake.
Maquillage Civilization
Come ! Quick ! Quick !
Cover up the tracks !
That lead to my doom
Even the lynx watches blear-eyed the bald-eagle
badgering badgers waddling down slithering marshes
Curling wisps of mists torn shreds of time
hug low down by dripping pines
And I wonder at the long lost lines of pre-Stone Age Cave Men
who have long preceded my own
Come! Quick! Quick!
Cover up the tracks!
Am I the Cloned Monster of my dreams!
Fierce thoughts warp my mind on wild backs
And make my hand shake through weird themes
Say, how many eons ago
Did this entrenched sea-begetter of mine
Binding metallic force on madraged muscled ego
Take shape to terrorize the brine
How many the magmatic engines hide under my gnarled hide
I hear them growl and grind in my bowels
Fizzing comets drill through memory-compressed neurons
And foist the thoughts boil-caged in my veins
Who are the unkempt ogling and babbling baboons
Prising libidos through rousing neck-biting sex-twined clashes
through gaping maw
Come streamlined in a many-laundered thing
The downward civilizing trek
The paint on the wall
held firm by the poisoning lead
Come! Quick! Quick!
Cover up the tracks!
Nothing changes like Change!
The Monster who lurks under the skin
Is still the Master of my whims!
Come! Quick! Quick!
Cover up the ….
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Children are curious so they ask, why?
Adults, when flustered, let out a sigh.
We often ask why, when loved ones die,
and frequently ask why as we cry.
Why was I betrayed by my heartthrob?
I was naïve and married a snob.
Why did my loved one suddenly die,
leaving me behind to grieve and cry?
Why was it I who got the pink stub?
After all I gave, that was a snub!
And why did it happen at this time,
when I am so far past my prime?
Why is my grown son such a slob?
He just cannot hold down a job.
Why can’t he be like his sister Kate,
whose career is career is going so great?
Why did my parents abandon me,
and treat me as if I am a flea?
My life is now a living hell,
as with depression I daily dwell.
Why did God allow this to happen,
to my friend who was such a good chap?
Why do the good suffer with the bad?
When this happens, it makes people mad.
Sages have pondered the question, why?
To find answers they surely did try.
But despite their tomes which blear the eyes
We are no wiser and still ask, why?
When we are asked why, sometimes we lie.
The truth is we will seldom know why.
The best we can do is to just sigh.
So, do not waste your time asking why.
Learn from the things that happen to you.
Let what you learn inform what you do.
Life is a school, so, do not despair,
take heart, your heavenly Father cares.
Along with their desolate fortune,
Old parents waiting for their unsparing children,
Who leaved them in the barren garden,
For the sake of their ambitions,
They omit them between the world,
When they needed love and care,
They gifted them with despair,
Inspite their aloofness,
Blear eyes still searches for them,
In the cortile of old house,
Every evening they sit together,
Share their griefs with each other,
Collect their broken dreams,
with lots of tears and scream,
hold each other hands,
As they are the passenger of the same land,
In the cortile of old house,
I know that one day they will sleep,
In the lap of grave,
But their sorrows will remain,
Gloom words left,
Inconvenient plaints shout ever and ever,
In the cortile of old house,
Whole night and the entire day,
They worry about them and pray,
Old memories tease them,
Tear their hearts with a sharp condemn,
With the passage of time,
Their wounds heal,
Time will not come back,
But must repeats itself,
It may be possible that,
After a stumble of time,
Those who rejects heaven in the earth,
Will be the next passenger,
In the cortile of old house,
Rosy rains still keep dapping on me, rippling into me, trickling in me
My sentiment and sentimentality set into sediment like descending haze
Settled, stagnated, then crystalized into concrete and constant gaze
Gaze from adrift to assured, from timid to fuss-free
Where her long-winded Hebe falls upon my sensuous serendipity
My short-winded romance catches upon her contagious catholicity
Through and o'er million-mile-long cascade of rains
Romance-woven, rose-waved, rushing curtain after curtain
My gaze meets the Grace of Venus' veins
Venus' veins from blear to clear, from confused to certain
Splicing and brightening each inspiring spot
Along each dimensionality of the whole universe
So perfectly the vast vivacity fits into my sensorial slot
That my everything rhymes and roils with its magnificent verse
Far and wide anacampserote describes
Far and wide rosy tides arise
From the perigee of my sights to the aphelion of her skies
From the margin of my mind to the adytum of her vibes
Harking back to earlier path strewn with romances of royal grith
Hearkening forward to future favors featuring our millennial myth
Reachable osculation, ne'er has remote oneirism so uncannily overlapped
Raying reality, ne'er has rainy romance so snugly wrapped.
Everytime I look at the mirror
There are flaws on my skin which are clear
All the dark spots on my skin
Where people think it is a sin
I think I had a beautiful smile
But I left it a long while may be a mile
When someone stares at my eyes which are round
They can only see the dark circles
around
Tried to wear lots of make up
But it just gets messed up
I Ain't the girl with perfect shape
Yet the girl with good heart
When someone calls me ugly
I leave the place happily
When I reach home my eyes start to cry
And looking at the same reflector
Jus like other people I only saw my blear
I hear the street whispering my name
Calling me ugly ,fat at least that is the place where I got the fame
I started my self to blame
But never thought the person who said mind was a lame
Begin to wear lots of natural and chemical products
Where these stuffs made myself a person of abduct
At one point I got tired of all the sayings
I started to see myself as glowing
Though I am not a model
At least I can be the role model
I have lots of flaws and scares
So I started to love them as they are
Eventually when I looked myself in mirror this time I gave a big smile
And said "Beauty lies in heart and definitely not in face" ---dhanu??
up a steep and narrow road
reach the tops
wilderness reclaims a verge
of wintery snags
land juts and tilts
hauls out
lays treeless
clumps and hags
pitch up stricken soil
heap above the miry troughs
loud the heartbeat
nearer to feral thought
then any mouth or ear
swale and quag dawdle
appear to seep listless
no
every bog tunnels shrouded
to fetch up the feckless
harsh and gorsy
heather treading low
the moors mark nothing
only a head of gnashing wind
a whipping dinosaurs tail
blear and chill
bites and grapples
a stone-tusked marl
crofts under
tangles of un-spun fleece
in barb and thistle
sheep piss in running rivulets
thread through
mizzle-pecked rocks
inscribed
by whatever tortures the air
ravens picket grit edges
wings beating back the below
primal caws that lift and speak
for the standing stones
their harrowing
lime-cuffed history
before light founders deeper
black anvils appear
in the lowering
a scant anchoring
a bare farrowing
shorn and scoured aloft
by miles of orbiting
beauty
twenty years later
son sends pictures
of moors long traipsed
the sky in my phone howls