Long Disarray Poems
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79.
Wrong Turn
On the time I left the straight path
Unfathomed anxiety teemed my heart
Ever doubted the resolve of my brain
If it would delight or harness some pain
The only sure thing was that
I only earned another's wrath
When from discontent
Formed I blemish intent
I became a speck
On the eyes of the meek
Abnormal fantasy
Drained all sanity
Filled with derision
To a righteous person
Worshipped childhood idol
Whom I thought would heed my call
Thought I'd found a savior
Who would do me a favor
Upon turning away
From his opponent's way
Onwards orange avenue
Belching fumes towards yellow hue
Traffic disturbed
Many eyes to me turned
On wrong turn entrapped
By stupid mishap
Was towed from the highway
After causing disarray
In proper seclusion
The transgressor was thrown
Behind the shadows anguishing
No orange attending
In the end it was yellow
Who ransomed ex-fellow.
-11/20/2011
(Dumarao)
*Yellow Poems Collection
Love laps at the shore of my heart.
Kinetically connected to kindness
my soul basks sumptuously in the
sunshine of creation.
All thoughts of bitterness dissolved
and washed away down the drainpipe
of despondency, mingling with misery
and disappearing from view.
All is as new. Blank page uncluttered
with the disarray of disillusionment.
Clean slate unsullied by the sullenness
of sulky solemnity.
Tradition tempered with tantalizing
innovation. History harmonized
with modish originality.
Awash with adoration of the sentient
I make a new vow of vociferous
worship to the universal source
of our invention - for the grace
of a God who loves unconditionally.
The architect of my soul.
The author of existence and the great
writer of this infinite infinity
called Life.
Let love always lap at the shores
of my heart. Make me part of
this new inception. Make me an instrument
of a new resounding peace -
a piece in the jig-saw of perpetuity;
A herald of an innovative message
of hopeful anticipation; a bearer
of the torch of tranquility.
To all the world - truce, treaty,
an armistice in Armageddon - Amen
In clover green we lay, our eyes on a bouquet
of white and wooly flowers, heaven's grand display.
As each bud drifted by, as if to make us sigh,
they changed into a downy heart in azure sky -
the perfect prelude to romance that new March day.
Consumed by passion play; our hair in disarray,
we heard above us in the tree a squawking jay.
He seemed to want to split us up; we'd not comply!
In clover green we lay.
We felt like children savoring a sweet parfait,
who linger in that special place they want to stay.
We pledged a love that no one ever could defy
and never questioned what would be should springtime die.
Inhaling scent of heather and each blossomed spray,
in clover green we lay.
For PD's Any GREEN theme Poetry Contest
The sun is glowing
I'm still growing
My smile is showing
The people think they're all-knowing
Writing this song
I do belong
Knowing right from wrong
I am strong
All along, I belong
I long for your song
Mentally playing ping-pong
Moving along all along
Hoarsing around
Head towards the ground
Making no sound
Feeling home-bound
Feeling lost and never found
Smoke in the air
No sign of despair
Turn it down just a hair
People watch and stare
But, I don't mean to scare
Playing truth or dare
Repairing my tear...preparing my flare
Banging this gong...of wanting to belong
Writing this song...not knowing right from wrong
I have no urge to weep
I have no time to sleep
The wounds you gave me are oh so deep
Sow what you reap...
You sneeze violently
You talk constantly
You walk fast it seems
You live with broken dreams
I dream in colorful ray
It's a sun-shining day
It's time to melt away the dismay
You've been led astray by disarray
I've traveled from afar
You're a discovered shooting star
I see you shine so far
Healing my past scar
I wonder where you are
I keep you in a memory jar
You zoom by in my mind like a mental car
The rhyme of time
Is oh so sublime
The ryhme of time
Is as priceless as a new dime
This time, this precious time
I tried to hang on...till the break of dawn
Where have you gone? I welcome the shining sun
You tatoo regret against my chest
I've been trying my best to pass life's test
Something's missing and I've been driven insane
Someone's missing and I'm not to blame...for, it leaves a guilty stain below the drain
My broken heart of art
Is about to tear apart
Imagine the possibilities of you and I
Boy, how time flies...please don't cry!
In its ordained journey to the domain of eternity,
life turns into a turbulent river of time,
where the cross currents of incursive thoughts
interlace with the mystic motif of the mind,
making a reflective lattice of introspection.
Its ultimate merger with the serene sea,
shaping the shores of the fathomless soul,
manifests in the final amalgamation
with the acquired aspects of infinite bliss,
sublimating the essence of the mental design.
The swirling currents of my vagrant mind,
trailing the course of insight to the absolute
through the contrived layers of consciousness,
disappear in the shade beneath the divine lamp
that illumines the swathe of dark acuity.
My soul then strives to shine in the spiritual glow,
reflecting the patina of the perception lotus,
blooming as the self-searching conception
in the sacred sanctum of the supreme,
where I struggle to escape from the web of disarray.
In the disorderly squall of divesting dismay
my wanton spirit is disheveled to dishabille state.
As my mind wavers unsure in the cascade of confusion,
prudent thoughts intrude the psyche with awareness,
searching for the meaning of life in contemplation.
In the shadows where the whispers creep,
Where secrets lie and silence weeps,
An ancient curse walks through the night,
The old zombie stirs, a ghastly sight.
With tattered clothes and eyes of gray,
It roams the earth in disarray,
A shuffling gait on broken ground,
The echo of a mournful sound.
Once a soul with dreams to chase,
Now lost in time, a ghostly trace,
Forgotten laughter turned to moans,
In graveyards deep where sorrow groans.
Its skeletal fingers reach for air,
Through thorny brambles and midnight’s glare;
Each hollow step tells tales of dread—
Of lives once lived now long since dead.
Oh! How it craves what it can’t find—
The warmth of life left far behind;
With every howl that chills the bone,
It calls to those who stand alone.
Yet in its eyes a spark still glows—
A flicker of life from long ago;
For even monsters know despair—
The weight of love lost everywhere.
So heed this warning as shadows fall:
When darkness rises and echoes call:
Beneath the moon’s pale silver gleam,
Lurk forgotten dreams within the scream.
In haunted nights when fear takes hold,
Remember stories that must be told;
For even zombies have their pasts—
And echoes linger long after they’ve passed.
Life can sometimes hurt us,
Loved ones can betray,
Emotions can get shattered,
Leave us in disarray.
Our jigsaw can get broken,
Our picture incomplete,
It's easy to be beaten
When treated with deceit.
Hurt can cause bitterness,
Spreading hate and fear,
It can destroy hearts forever
So my message to you is clear.
Build bridges with those who disappoint,
Let love span that divide,
Forgiveness helps to mend your heart,
Mercy must be applied.
Imperfections are in all of us,
Don't fight the ones you love,
Be at peace with one another,
As we are taught by God above.
27th March 2017
My rooms are a wreck, total disarray.
I have clothes that don’t fit – some other day.
My garage has critters, mice of course.
I am painting today – a giant pink and orange horse.
I have three junk drawers in my shamble of a kitchen.
Paint us! Yell three faeries, and I don’t want them bit’chn.
It is five thirty p.m. and my husband is fixing supper for himself.
I just finished my third painting; it is drying on the shelf.
My car is out of gas, this can be done another day.
My cat needs fed, he is meowing away!
Shh! I tell him, Mama is painting today.
My husband who professes to not like cats is running his way
With shrimp, lobster, and tuna.
What can I say?
Engulfed in the smouldering dusk of a fractured nation,
A voice claws through the cracks of static screens,
And suppressed speakers,
A distorted hymn for the disenchanted,
A battle cry for the misled.
The people in power berate us with
Propaganda and paranoia pumped into our living rooms,
From the television with a cacophony of curated fear,
A scaremongering symphony creating a state of compliance.
“Don’t wanna be an American idiot,
Don’t want a nation under the new media,
And can you hear the sound of hysteria?
The subliminal mind America.”
The words spit like sparks from a severed wire,
A requiem for the deferred,
And truth seekers are emancipated with the enlightenment of electrifying lyrics.
As voices are drowned in the deafening cheers,
Green Day plays on, dropping truth bombs,
Broadcasting rebellion,
Sparking conversations,
Immortalized as an international calling card from the woke.
The deceitful lies within the American flag dissolve,
Like a politician’s fading promise,
Its stars drip, evaporating the hopes of tomorrow,
Its stripes in disarray,
Yet from the decay came awareness.
Bringing hope for generations
With a chorus that rallies us on repeat,
A political opera that refuses to die in vain.
My n e s t - my home at first glance may seem M A Y H E M,
you may think it is CHAOS and disarray;
a huge m u d d l e- a mess of disorganized bedlam,
I DO confess to having a lot of stuff . . .
but let me a s s u r e you I do have a S Y S T E M,
there is ORDER, all my s t u f f has it's place;
I know each of my T R E A S U R E ' S unique position.
__________________
January 28, 2017
Poetry/Verse/Seven for Chaos - My Nest
Copyright Protected, ID 17-869-651-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Seven for Chaos and Order
sponsor, Nette Onclaud
Fourth Place