Long Disbelieving Poems
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Deep into the dark, amid the shadows, dwells the blackest spark
Or no, wait, it'sa nightmare convening, and the park is screaming
Or perchance a ghoulish gathering, killing and preening
Bad dream screening, cloaked and masked with disbelieving
The curtains been pulled, the marriage annulled
Death and dulled, the demons are doin' well
All things considered, sanctimonious, and sick, this is all just swell
The fog flourishes while evil rings the graveyard's bell
This is certainly a show, don't tell
Sinister, cozy, and cold, the decadence and debauchery unfolds
Just as the days of centuries old played out
Victorian Gothic, historical, and classic, with all the Vamps sportin' a blood locket
The delicious allure of death dazzles
Causing desolation and loneliness to frazzle
A puzzle of phantoms, vast and not random
An Andy Warhol fandom, all the Nevermores gettin' their corpse on Forevermore
Outstanding
So what does one make of this funeral with a cake, dead roses
And the realization that love is fake
A ghostly compendium of dubious give and take, live the death
Enjoy the Devils Breath by the lake
Fascinate over the forsaken, disturb the unwaken
Go ahead, have a slice of liver or belly bacon
Here, it's yours for the takin'
Mayhem is a'makin', and this can very well be that Heinous exotic Hellish vacation
The one Lucifer is always hailing or abating
Which reminds me of that abysmal sensation that follows him around
And why is he here? He belongs downtown - underground.....
Religion
holy, peaceful
serving, loving, dedicating
harbingers, wishers, speakers, sellers
separating, competing, fighting
narrow, isolated
community
community
selfish, bellicose
hating, disbelieving, thinking
saints, bishops, saviors, pioneers
committing, secularizing, uniting
fraternal, human
Religion
SOUHARDYA GOSWAMI, INDIA
(The poem was written by my son Souhardya Who is 14+ years old. He is inspired by every great poet in POETRYSOUP.)
Why do you look so old? The child asks me.
Not my favorite child, and he is losing ground rapidly.
Why do you think? I reply. “I am old.”
How old are you?
I am a hundred and twelve.
That quiets the whippersnapper for a few seconds.
He is whining now, disbelieving me, calling me names.
The youth of today are not like us.
I want to scream “I am twelve inside, no older than nine some days.”
But my polka dotted hands and my wrinkling bulldog neck says more.
Not to mention the arthritis in both ankles which slow me down.
“Why are you so impertinent and fresh?” I want to say to the child.
But these words are well beyond his scope.
We have dumbed down society until I do not think
We can dumb it down any more,
So I hobble away, cherishing my superiority.
Barefoot, I stepped on the twigs and the dry leaves,
Loving the cracking sound they make as they break,
Hating the noise at the same time,
As, they might wake those sleeping monsters
From whom I was running!
Barefoot, I plunged deeper and deeper into the forest
Braving its dense shrubs and its lazy snakes,
Its furry koalas and its napping alligators,
Its prowling wolves and its preying carnivorous plants!
I hardly knew where I was going,
I hardly knew anything about my past,
I could only recollect waking up in an open cage,
Next to sleeping monsters, all smelling of narcotics
And alcohol,
Seemingly too taken up with their high waves
To care about me!
Still, seconds before I woke up, I had seen, in my dream
A Goddess, dressed in a blood red saree and being
So magnificent in appearance, with milky flawless skin
And beautiful traits, looking like
She could be the Queen of Existence!
"Wake up," she had said to me in a riddling manner,
"Wake up and dive into the darkness in front of you!"
Her words I did listen, fearing nothing and no one
For, whatever be the cause of everything, whatever be
The consequences of everything,
What matters and what shall matter remains
Her will being fulfilled!
My heart started thumping, the moment I saw, in front of me
Trees sliding away and making the way for me
To reach the clearing, where, a prince sat by the side of his horse
And my dead body!
He was sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and clenching his fists
So much that the veins of his neck stood out!
Then, it all came back to me, I am his beloved and together
We have been fleeing our native soils, as, it would seem,
Our love was deemed as being a sin!
Love, being expressed in this way in my usually stony prince
Was more than melting!
It started playing notes in heart, causing my femininity
To dance and my whole senses to simply explode
As would the most destructive of volcanoes!
So,
Taking a huge gulp, I dived into my own body and woke up
To his disbelieving eyes and to a lifetime of love
As has been willed not only by both of us
But also by the Mother Goddess who visited me in my dream!
Written on 7th January 2019
I needed someone tonight
Perhaps even a nobody is fine
Simply a company to shed a light
Some memories simply need not remind
So much to do in one’s sake
So much for the necessities’ in life
How much more might you await?
When loving me isn’t the only reason to survive
And I did what I can
What more be necessary still?
If not more than simply a friend
Is there love to be recognized as real?
Simply love to misguide us all
Almost like a prayer... when we do not have answers
Trying so hard believing what is to stand for
Yet disbelieving how life never is forever
Have you needed me tonight?
A nobody is always as fine
A company choice-less to shed a light
Some memories perhaps... need never remind
Blackbird, blackbird, where have you gone?
Here the limbs you lately danced upon,
In sunset orange, in sunset red,
Now the grapevine says, "Blackbird is dead."
Disbelieving owl cries, "Who? Who?"
Disheartened rooster won't cock-a-doodle-doo.
Nanette laid flowers on the grave.
He took but little, but much he gave.
Cardinal restless amid the greenery,
And oblivious to the usual scenery!
All the smiles have turned to cries;
Adam hangs his head and sighs.
Blackbird is dead. What happens now?
What now will the fates allow?
Will dawn now sing of this new day?
Or have Sunday's singers all gone away?
Blackbird is dead and time is creeping.
Blackbird is dead-the world is weeping.
All the worst is come to pass;
Moonlight spilling on the grass.
Listen to the One who guides believers home
Scripture reveals, the gospel truth, in hearers
Hearts who receive Him, believing, will not roam
Heed Jesus, so gentle, echoed in mirrors
Reflecting love more perfect than I’ll describe
Reach beyond the disbelieving, soul smearers
Listen to hearts who sweetest faith does inscribe
Swaying like the leaves of autumn, calming souls
A cure stronger than a doctor could prescribe
The gospel invites each heart to meet its goals
With the promise of salvation through God’s grace
He aches to destroy sin and always consoles
Listen to the One who offers His embrace
Love like this, nothing in the world can erase
Home, even though a cozy cove sits secretly offshore,
it takes a hope and a skip away from my lone abode.
Terms with simple truths, they supply the groove.
They mount the horse and leave the sunset guessing, too.
Last light was leaving, hemisphere on spinning axis.
That's when a mammoth's head huge comes out the hallway;
its head is perfectly in frame, flush with the height and
length of the walkway.
Its wool invisible, completely see it through, besides that
fact still it was vivid, contained both depth and shading
make me see it too.
A mad hallucination, the proportion was intimidating,
forgetting it's made by my own mind, but still don't
know, don't fully comprehend what that all really meant.
Not really looking, only waiting—
waiting for the predictable.
It was known that I knew that I'd be so foolish too;
I pulled the wool up and over
the fabric of space and time, so when it all aligned, I'd
make sure I'd get me mine.
The mammoth then goes an opens up, from it's
opened mouth, soon as there was space, two snakes
sprung out and made escape without hesitation and with
a purpose that I for certain felt.
They were small, both in size and age two—
twin basilisk adolescents and commanding presence.
One occupied the kitchen, furthest to my left;
Then the other one, It was to the right came up right to me.
Even sitting down already, quickly up I leapt.
Watched it creep and slide till it all faded from my sight.
I sat, dumbfounded, disbelieving daydreaming
and this was truthfully my experience.
Everything was gone; it really was just me left beside I.
If I do not trust my wisdom
then I have earned nothing,learned nothing,loved nothing, become nothing,
I would be a random phantom,a struggle absent triumph to fathom,
just a creature chasing feelings, ignorant of meaning,
would be like disbelieving my birth
underestimating my worth
searching for mirth
in spoiled earth,
As a Mother never leaves the bones of her babe
Wisdom remains the Warchief of my warcraft, Defender of my Dignity,
when born, naked, bloodied, a new face in an old world, a new dream in an old scream
Wisdom was there to share the air, the steward of my soul and shadow, reason's blade,
guardian of flesh and frequency, It'll be present when final breath farewells me,
Wisdom's warfare is figured yet fanatical,dreaded and unseen,
I will not allow anything to invalidate my wisdom, no threat or doubt of strangers,
humans exist to fight, many to exploit the labor and hearts of their neighbors,
all God's animals fight to survive, but we fight for wants and principles as well,
I war not to live longest, I battle to believe in the value of my death, my spirit not to sell,
Wisdom has nourished my motivations as blood nutures the organs
encouraging me to love life today, not tomorrow,
that I should fear not the cruel for they are truly the weak and poor,
that I am worth more than the Petro Dollar, Euro and Yuan,
that Art is my religion and creativity my life,
reminding that to teach is to live and to live is to lead,
that happiness happens steady when you like who you are,
to be mean spirited is to be despirited,
that lies live when our truths appear terror,
Wisdom taught me to be more a conissuer of soul than of body,
that as a champion I should keep relics of my losses as well as of my victories,
that we learn nothing of significance by being right,
that love is never wrong,
that in times of victory be merciful, in moments of defeat be indomitable,
that I am Free as I am Forever,
gave me the motto,
long damn day, good damn day -
J.A.B.
A letter from my brother!
It had been three months!
We invited the Pony Express rider to stay for a meal.
He was grateful, but not half as grateful as me.
We read the letter three times over ham and beans and cornbread.
Wallace, Idaho. He wanted us to come out there. He said there was gold.
My husband was leery, disbelieving, scoffed a bit.
The messenger did not say much, ate fast, and was out the door.
I began begging to go out there. I had not seen my brother in months.
He said there is gold, I argued. Let’s just put the baby in the wagon and go.
I would not leave it alone. We finally went, it was a difficult trip.
We never made it.
Flu got the baby and I along the way.
Not sure what happened to my husband.