Long Divulges Poems
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*Image of Royal Alberts by Antiques And Teacups.
Drinking a Cup of Tea
An outing drizzling visits two,
walking past a depot.
Dashing through the rain they withdrew,
in a dressed gazebo.
Fine Albert's Country Rose teacups,
set on top matching plates.
Buttered toast and biscuit warmups,
a quaint morning translates.
Orange pekoe redolent blends,
blissful sip indulges,
chews, nibbles, and napkin wipe trends,
engaging divulges.
Taste spirits chatter that transcends,
ere squall is forgotten,
decency trades a storm extends,
a spot of tea brought in.
2023 February 04
Shall I allow my heart to break its fences
and profusely bare its senses
as my mind feels no fighting chances
the soul divulges the pain’s incenses
trauma bleeds through my pen with no pretences.
*****
Shall I allow my heart to shed its shield
and had its very pulses peeled
with a mind of no power to wield
so majestic the soul to blows yield
trauma bleeds through my pen unable to be sealed.
*****
Shall I allow my words to portray a huge affliction
and conceal each ache with no slight friction
as my pen takes great care with poetic diction
to produce an artistic painting of wonderful depiction
trauma bleeds through my pen in fact and fiction.
He looks at the mirror and frowns at the image
‘Is it the glass or my face that lies shattered?’
Fault lines burrowed into borrowed time
Tim wonders about censorship and cracks
He sees a crossdresser between sadness and joy
A veil of burnt out darkness and shiny spectacles
Quorum of insanity and intense beauty alike
Bedlam carving out a picture of madness
Frowns and scars adorn past vision of duels
Of minds and a sword of common dissent
A freckle hidden under three-day stubble
Shadows of sleepless nights in despair
They say it is the persona or mask of retreat that
Enacts the drama of living enhanced by oozing
Wounds of battles long gone with no victor
But the lonely survivor who he has become
The looking glass reflects upon wrinkles and blotches
Attempting to scratch out disfigured pit falls of thoughts
Discoloured from jagged emotions at face value
Shades of discontent imprinted on countenance
As Tim tries to make sense of deceitful senses
Divulges the distorted prism that he has become
The mirror cracks into mute darkness and doubt
There is no escape and the trap door stays shut
When eternity of his ragged convulsion has passed
He decides that cutting through insurmountable walls
With a razor would only heap more meaningless blood
Whereas accepting containment can be a close shave
He pierces the conception of failure and reassembles
Broken shards into a mosaic of dis-ambiguous beauty
‘I am who I was and will reassign polarity to the centre’
He marvels in ink of realignment and scribes a way forth
01st December 2019
ENDLESS LOVE
Tell me
What burns with a
Great flame that an
Inferno, yet benign
And consumes not?
Tell me
What shines with a
Dazzling brightness than
The glare of the sun
Yet as tender as
The moon and
Divulges no flaw?
Tell me
What shelters more from
The beset of gale of fate
And salves more than
The balm of gilead?
Tell me
What could be more
Tender than
Cosset of myriads
Of lovers?
Roses are beautiful
But wilts.
Tell me what
Could be so beautiful
And wilts not?
A pearl, diamond is.
And forever lasts, but
To theft it subjects
Tell me
What pearl
Forever lasts and
Thieving hands
Defies?
I tell you nothing,
Nothing than mothers
Endless love
It wilts not.
Unswallowed lumps of lobster immodest
Crustacean returns to pincers persimmon
Waitress whisk indiscernible clears linen
Custom of one equates her eight hour day
Has It All Paul wipes away gourmet residual
Exhaustion frightened by frothy latte
Fingers in pies finance necromancer denies
Bulging funds fail to complete, coins conflict
Periphery rebuffs, enough is finite, endless leers
Goblet of gluttony grape broth overflow inflicts
Victim of vanished virtue, bon vivant declaration
Transmutes rules, outruns consequence
Guidance glued in buttery dough glides rhetorical
Yacht reined in quay quiver, another arrow for Cupid
Entertainment timed to change with shifting tides
Inglots tossed overboard drown in debauch
Drunk playboy Paul while vulnerable divulges
Disdain for greeds' steep scrag, perpetual pursuit
Outdo, prove prowess for those who never realise
Incongruent grapple for further forgets to cherish
Partners relent, resources force caucus to submit
Patronising Paul procures boardroom obedience
Inundating debt retards bombastic boon reward
Promise of association silences indulgent sin
28th June
Plenty Stimulates
Puzzled folks be shocked
by my irony---
the emphasis is
on morality.
*********** sells,
actions movies do too;
curse words abound--
a lucrative trend.
Society divulges
free sexuality
without any shame--
lustful affections.
Sue me for libel,
and I will appeal
to the Higher Court;*
the pounding gravel--
a dismissed case.
If Star Wars excites
you, think of fiction
as something too real--
disaster coming.
No, I won't mention
" Armageddon " now...
to frighten you too soon-
events will shock all.
Humankind's desire
is to build one race;
all traditions die,
transforming good values--
such false culture.
Shield hard-earned money,
shun deceitful men;
their aim is more green--
plague of vanity.
Written on 1/ 16/ 2016
* Higher Court: Heaven
Chaotic rain divulges errantly
how can this be God’s poetry
it plunders like a tsunami
the Devil’s masterpiece
How can this be mercy
torrent waters surge
floods creating oceans
inescapable drowning
Each rain drop becomes louder
caught in the line of fire
no escaping the bullets
tranquil peace destroyed
Peaceful melodies are lost
storms reflect unpleasant music
senseless evil heavy metal lyrics
no purpose – shouting and screaming
Doused, drenched, engulfed
suffocating – soaking strain
where is Noah and his Ark?
Will this barricade conclude
The Silent One
Originally written 7 January 2016
Repost: 1 January 2018
Tenacious ichor tells entire construction
Divulges puerile battles during idle procedure
Relic compiling spotlight show seduction
Library ivory tower truth siphoning beseecher
Adapted lady adorns princely throne
Padlock hammocks tween valuable threads
Warm cove cocoon moors love's loan
Imbibing cover only, for information dreads
Mould folded within her novel costume
Pacifying massage, limbs lubricated levitate
Elephant keratin tusk thrusts impromptu
Smudge of shame fades chalk dust archaic
- Fifth September
Fabricating Sculptor
Creativity given to a pen
moved by a thoughtful man,
divulges ideas with a steady rhythm...
not minding noises, just writing what pleases him.
Find him dreaming on a deserted island in the Adriatic Sea,
laying on a soft blanket woven by patients hands;
see him wearing classic, dark shades seen in a famous movie...
implementing thoughts too sober for pretense.
Creativity given to a pen
guided by his swift fingers in constant movement
composes another poem with a new arrangement;
why is he a prisoner of his own den?
Have a conversation with him on a breezy noon,
share his favorite drink, which is a burgundy wine
made from local grapes dangling on the vine...
he will explain the realistic tone of his lampoon.
Creativity given to a pen is to express
with artfulness and astuteness each mode;
read his works and try to unlock his code...
you' ll be amazed at what you'll find in your quest.
For years it had flown through dim canyons,
hollows where the mute sheltered in echoing caves.
Poems shifted loose and gearless.
Words darted for cover as if caught
in an empty bell tower.
On tongue-chilled days it would croon inarticulately
as it sang beneath jawbone rafters.
Then one drunken night I felt it clearing its windpipes,
coaching a squeaky organ into yawps of utterance.
I can see it now, a raw unlovely thing,
a creature hammered through gurgling fissures,
grown stark with a transpiring clarity.
I would mislay it like a lost penny,
go crazy to find its untrod trail again,
then it would return like a tramp begging at my door.
I hear it knocking now – a homeless angel
eager to shed the next paltry revelation
in a foundling language.
No longer is it a chance sighting,
no longer a luminous flutter on dark walls;
it is red of lip,
a painted vowel in my unbolted mouth.
A mouth that now divulges,
and sometimes in a dull turning year
may say something worth transcribing
for the ears of other madmen.