Long Eventful Poems
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I wanted a quiet evening, away from Proto
To order a pizza with loads of ricotta,
And write a poem, with not one interruption,
Savoring a glass of wine, without disruption.
Sounds perfect to me said a voice, let us begin.
I looked around no one was there except Lynn
My golden Labrador, the voice spoke once more,
It’s so pretty outside, from here comes inspiration,
Poems bring serenity,
But at times written in desperation.
The voice came from my poem I had just started,
I was delighted, felt elated could this be magic.
I believe that you talk, I’m no sceptic
You’re the words creating my poem and I a poet.
I will stay by your side, and together,
We will travel where ever, forever.
With a fame so destined,
Bitcoin will have nothing on us
We will kick up a such a lot of dust,
And create a great fuss.
Now don’t forget this is my poem, I explained, you only
Add if I ask.
Once upon a poem and rhyme,
Lived an old, old man called time,
No, no, no, said the words,
The cat,
Sat on the mat
And ate the rat
That is not poetry I shouted, you arrived in my space
Perhaps you should explain why you’re here,
And state your case!
Then I heard another voice, somewhat shrill
I’m so glad it said, chase the words away
I recognized the second voice straight away,
For I’d heard it every day,
It was my Muse, she sounded sad and was crying
You don’t love me anymore, my heart is dying,
So I assured my muse Patsic
That altogether, we’d create worldwide magic!
Oh good said the words, it was getting too much
And spilt a tear on the poetry page.
Now can you listen, please,
I’m not so young in age,
I can’t get so upset,
Glad we have all met.
Then continued,
The furry cat,
Sat on the Persian mat,
And ate a fat rat.
Still unacceptable, I said to the words,
Let me finish mine.
No, no, exclaimed the words, I want to try again,
The eclipse on the earth, orbiting into the moons shadow,
Glimpses the bright sun, and from a slither so narrow,
Stop, I said, that was good,
Perhaps I’ll let you finish tomorrow.
So you thought it was good, let’s do the dance of joy,
And as we danced, the words on my page
Scattered everywhere.
I looked at my new friend,
It will be an eventful, ecstatic journey for us,
This partnership of three, will I know,
Entertain,
Time and time again!
What a city I murmur to myself looking at its map.
We approached the city known as Dis,
with its vast army and its burdened citizens.
At last we reached the moats
dug deep around the dismal city.
What destroys the poetry of a city?
Automobiles destroy it,
and they destroy more than the poetry.
Dante and Virgil chased by 7 or 8 dangerous devils
Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey . . .
Our heroes reduced from metaphysical philosophers
interested in god and what man has done to man
to improvising primitive tools for survival.
Hope abandoned, we rate our chances of expiring
in the nuclear fire – excellent –
during the decline of western civilization.
On the other hand, I hope
our current problems are only temporary
and it’s just a matter of time before
the public ignores the 24-hour news cycle.
Bad news sells but the good life’s all around us.
One feels love and devotion
even for the 60 million who voted for our opponent.
Vaclav Havel said with a wisdom well beyond brilliance:
“Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
It is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent
on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation.
It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart
that transcends the world as it’s immediately experienced.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense
no matter how it turns out.”
It resembles grief. But it's not quite grief. I'll give you grief.
Certain days planned to be eventful I look forward to for weeks.
Let the peaceful transfer of power proceed. The sorrow and the pity.
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth.
When the laws are kept, how proudly the city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of the city then?
We are moving through some allegory between a City of Hope,
where history has been abolished, and a City of History,
where hope can be slipped in only as contraband.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching
outer space for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
Two ancient female poets are a revelation,
the clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
Our enemy eventually becomes our brother,
his misery lifted by coming to her city.
Anticlimactic mood after February 18th, 2021 snow storm subsided
I hate spoiler alert
regarding weather forecasters prediction,
especially when meteorologist
wannabe spouse doth blurt
out impending blizzard
which never materializes.
Yours truly humbled and enamored
when Mother Nature
singly and/or nsync with old man winter
looses propensity to wreak havoc
and/or blankets landscape
I fondly think back
remembering '96 storm of the century.
At that time January 1996
me and the missus timesharing
Shawnee on the Delaware
ardently striving, yet
unsuccessful conceiving Blizzard Baby.
Now far beyond procreative age,
(though I wistfully envisage
begetting another progeny -
simultaneously stretching credulity
to breaking point)
all things considered
exhaustion would peter out
after capitulation of divining rod
necessitating lifetime to recoup energy.
Bound within figurative four walls
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania domicile
courtesy appreciable snowfall,
I direct energy crafting poem.
Yours truly will actually
refrain comestibles despite feeling hungry -
lest metabolism to digest food
decreases potential alertness,
and full belly finds me
ready able and willing
to doze immediately into deep slumber.
Hungry stomach in tandem
with eventful weather
sends surge of giddiness
coursing thru body electric
crackling, popping, and snapping
(while O Captain My Captain)
came to witty man (me) suddenly
enervating with poignant pregnant expectancy
papa pondering his empty nest syndrome
analogously attempting to offset void
coaxing poem into existence
unsure how literary endeavor
(mine) will thrive
amidst well suited
panoply of prolific writers,
whose unseen fingers
hop lightly and gracefully
across qwerty computer keyboard
akin to heavy armed soldiers
with fearlessness and deliberation
heading off to war to acquire poetic license.
Meanwhile chafed knuckles
of one garden variety primate
previously scraping along tundra
(methinks I espy frozen Mastodon)
(before twenty first century caveman
learned to stand erect)
endeavors to strike letter combinations
eliciting, facilitating, and generating
enticing curb appeal.
By Sashi. Prabhu(zeauoxian) 1/3/2012.
Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared.
From the vertical column sans a crown of leaves of rotted dead wood,
Once, which was in its own right a magnificent coconut tree where it stood.
Freshness, splendor, Vitality and flexibility of a live tree all depleted and gone,
T’was a pertinent choice for the woodpecker mates to build a home foregone.
Abundantly birdies flock, Pigeons, robins, mynahs, hornbills, cranes and parrots,
On the evergreen nearby tamarind tree, but the woodpeckers my eyes ferrets.
From that eventful day my eyes they set upon,
Their wood pecking bills would on the bark sculpt and impinge on.
A homely hole to drill,
Their head moving rhythmically and looks like a cap with red frill.
Twenty five days back they first arrived I lucidly recollect,
Ten days, a pair of hatched altricial chicks, mates from adversaries’ have to protect.
One morn had me glancing to the oval cavital hole on the bark,
And feasted my eyes on feeding chicks being readied, their lives to embark.
Blissful and content , I recollect now I sat a bit longer to observe and discern,
Glorious hues, auger bill, cap with red frills, of the peckers as they take their unambiguous turns.
To zip across like beige, buttery yellow plumaged darts across the lush foliage all green,
Within, watchable bounds to fetch, insects, worms and saps as nutriment routine.
The chicks I saw they peek out of the shielded barky holes with awe,
Strength it seems to me have filled their wings bill and sharpened claw.
Now I wonder if I can listen to the joyous feminine “chrr”
and the shrill masculine “kwirr”.
As the young chick in the hole frolicking, giving it a try to fly,
Away in the wide world after saying a good bye onto the sky very high…………
Now the mates without emotions, kerfuffle and ado,
To each other, their home and their prying neighbour me have bid “adieu”.
Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared
Shadowland
Chained to the addiction of tempting Fate
What if I told you that my life was once like yours?
Torn between love and hate
A shadow silhouette lurking between life and death
Fuelled by an emptiness to which I couldn’t relate
Caution to the wind of besting the best,
A devious test?
Sweet sensations winning an egotistical contest
Life on the edge, merely a precarious precipice
Exhilarated ego threw flames to the flame
The fire inside couldn’t be tamed
Comforts of home failed to exist
Love I yearned for endeavoured to resist
Mind effortlessly lied, failing to grasp the illusion
between confused, lost and utter delusion
Life on the streets a means beyond the dare
Sink or swim baby, did anyone care?
Till the one eventful day when I chanced it too far
Catastrophic event out of nowhere in shape of a car
A sickening thud
My frivolous life paid in blood
My death in vain and loss of blooming years
Too late like acidic rain flowed those tears
What if I told you if you don’t already know?
The concise connotation
through electric flashes of blue and red
of the loudest despairing dread
When they zipped the bag and pronounced you dead?
And you become a glimmer that nobody sees
and the silent scream that nobody hears
Except other shadows between worlds
In an intermundane space
Torn between abstract, physical and a forgotten face
Temptation came as I sat here waiting
To switch sides, she urgently advised me
I saw through her guise, this diabolical entity
I’m not an Angel that fits in your regular category
So, I spat in her eye and called her a name
Oops! sorry Lord forgive me I know you heard
Some of my old sass remains
Still new to the game
Yes, understood, it’s a crying shame.
So back to my story
Redemption came in the grand scheme
I was one of the fortunate few redeemed
So, take heart, kid, abandoned to this shadowland
Not anymore
No more a wandering weary soul lost
Fate was not kind it was never your fault
Conducting your journey
to me the charge has been given
Through a leap of faith all is forgiven
I moved into Rochdale in 1964
My Grandparents and I moved in together
We will not be discussing our ages
Just Rochdale and its amazes
History with a continued stride
As a start off, I who can forget the ROCHDALE MOVIE THEATER
On any given Saturday, it would be a sit down and watch movie flicks
James Bond 007 and Ten Little Indians and then there was one
Action and Thrillers
Those two were my highlights
Speaking of aroma and enchanted senses
PETER PAN BAKERY
Fresh breads, Pastries and assorted cakes
Test of the sweet tooth
My ultimate being the STRAWBERRY SHORT CAKE
Also on any Saturday morning, my Grand Mother would have orders delivered of Seltzer and Soda back then
Regarding water, dazzling colorful water fountain close to Niagara Falls that it’s going to get
Beauty and Mist
At every 7:00 pm hour, the entire sky lights up Rochdale at the end of the evening with colorful eventful lights bringing together all neighbors. Hello Neighbor of our community
That is what you call unity back then
My favorite restaurant was from the past was KING KAROL
What can be said was the Big Box of Popcorn
That’s not all, it the Mash Potatoes, Vegetables and Grilled Sirloin Steak
Never left the Ponderosa
Thanks to my Grand Father in the treat
Rochdale Newspaper, yours truly was featured with a photo of me and a white girl riding our bicycles across splashing through a puddle with the caption stating, “THE NEED FOR BIKE PATHS”
Calling Maintenance
Like flash at your door before you can hang up
All prior years in the newness then
At the Big Mall, you had KREUSS and a Men’s Clothing Store
How time flies and what a difference makes
In fact, we had two malls even back when
Participation was my virtue
You would see me at a lot of events in my younger years
For example, HALLOWEEN
This is just a glimpse of my life at ROCHDALE VILLAGE in the beginning to present
There is a lot more, but if I keep going, I would be like the Duracell Rabbit going and going with no end
Those were my happy times in memory
I wish they would return
Thank you for coming along and giving me the opportunity in sharing my journey.
“My beloved Knight, my Knight of the Word
I am but no more than a futile peasant to be left unheard
I fear my existence has only to cause more trouble than of help
To seek borrowed time will mean moments of time lessen to be dealt
I’m nay to remember much after the entry of the leech
And bearing this eventful catastrophe, I’m more to be certain under siege
If nay to be now, there may never well be another time to share a secret of mine
And mayhaps this secret I should have once regarded with time
Of given periods through our acquaintances, our journey as one
From a time since a beginning, whence our names come undone
My affection towards you were to be a hundred years away
Loved you were by both Ei-rian and me till even this very day
I haven’t the courage to voice my hidden passion and desire
To only travel in silence, in an ever lonesomeness of timeless dire
Too much lies at hand to know emotions must be left aside
With the war weighing upon our dreaded lives, have we only the will to fight!
And appearing thereafter, is to be Ei-rian the Angel of Dreams
Yet, she be the only one who can show you what The Ancients is to mean
Thereafter my engiven freedom, heard were grave news of you
Death upon swift wings in exchange to begin my life anew
When heard were tales about your traveling with Ei-rian
I am to envy the path of love between you and the Angel of Dreams
And as lonely as The Ancients is to be with no one else
I’m to learn later, the cause of your death was from love itself
Since your return, I do fear to present my love as once again
Yet now… I fear even more to die without a love to remain
Though as uncertain from then as now, I am nay to know how you feel?
However, I rather you know before my time with death be seal
If love from you has nay a blossom for me, I do understand
And I’m nay to ask for return, neither of borrowed love to lend
I’m lighthearted indeed to have a chance to voice my aspiration
Moreover to know, us be traveling together to our destination
How have you the capability to save me? I’m nay to know…
My life now will forever be indebted to you, must you enfold!”
BUTTERFLY
Fly O butterfly fly in the clear and sunny day
Fly about in freedom in your haphazard way.
Fly onto colorful flowers and plants giving sustenance away
Fly as only you know how and live to see and fly another day.
Such a creature that you are and so very delicately made
A marvel of creation clothed in colors which do persuade.
What a contrast there is while you're motionless to that when you're in flight
A splendid example of nature to which all the credit is due allowing this sight.
Although you have your own season and have much with which to display
You're only here for a short time and like to make the most of it each day.
With angelic-like wings of splendor it seems you fly around effortlessly
From one area to another wherever your discretionary whim takes thee.
And you have wings that are mostly poised upright behind you when in rest
While those of your kindred are but lowly hung and only widespread at best.
It also occurs to me you're more refined and sensitive by birthright than your relation
As you're the one who avoids flying headlong into objects and get the most adulation.
You are a creature of metamorphosis or the product and result of transforming change
Could this be the reason why that beauteous form of yours covers such a broad range?
For in the life-span which has been allotted to you a rare beauty you've now become
An exemplar of harmonious existence with nature that is evidently a hobby for some.
In the whole wide world there's hardly a creature that bears any resemblance to you
And it's only in your rather less noble relation the moth there's some semblance true.
You're verily also a creature that appears to revel in broad daylight
Though your cousin is mainly one who usually abounds in the night.
Fly O butterfly fly and may you find your happy mate
Fly to where love takes you and wandering does sate.
Fly all around to every place in your naturally free and delightful state
Fly as only you know how and live to share with all that eventful fate.
________________________
Your arrival predate mine by two generations
Five weeks now since
Your permanent departure
Internal thoughts conflicted
Forever reminiscin’
Your heavily influenced overture
13, a younglin’
Curtain rise’s inception
On my personal narrative
Shaped by your first instruction
Of the working traveler’s adventure
And the stupidity of the expletive
Return to the current
The destruction you’ve forgotten
Placed on those survivin’
Untold secrets unearthed
Potential debts realized
Your true legacy questioned, reminded
15 and rising
Through my own personal ranks
Of adolescent confusion
You provided the tough shoulder
The ethics of work and moral
My own personal boulder
The passage of space and time
I slowly began to realize
The truth of youthful blinders
Your treatment of your holy union
Your honesty toward my path
Gradually affected my thoughts like a re-winder
20 and extended
Family now a subplot
Of my evolving tale
Your conversation overheard
A secret three-word exchange
Hammered in my story’s first act’s nail
Defining decade now in the rearview
A passage of peaks and valleys
Bringing about my current trajectory
Your skeletons undug
Of four adulterous decades
And of your duplicitous victory
Your praise of adventure
Of old-fashioned ways
Once lived in my inner core
The darkness revealed
Taints the memory
Of your eventful lore
The days move forward
The pain of your loss lessens
But not to the point of forgetfulness
Difficult as it and I may be
To forgive your fables
But mention, I will, of this
As the curtain closes
And the chapter ends
Of this insightful arc
I’ll remember the personal moments
Our private interludes
That left a permanent mark
A symbol of perfection
For that you may have striven
But I’ll tell you a secret
You were merely a human
An occupational hazard being flawed
Bound for inevitable regret
Our time here is over
But forever you will exist
Until my own curtain call
Then may the Great Beyond dictate
We join forces again
And traverse the Celestial Hall
Form:
imagery and figurative language
to create the thought needed
In a play to the senses
making the interest known
Repetition of consonant sounds in words
Gaining the attention it desires
from the frustration of want
to the need of love
to actually being loved or at
least admired
personification to create
a vividly imaginative effect
centered in your interest
structured and arranged in patterns
compared to our unlikeness
merged in our need to be
rhythmic melody compiled from
the creative desire to attract
phrase to phrase in continuance
neither nuecane or bothering
sequential and eventful
keen kind and right
stressed with the passion of
being as one
togetherness
and with the full intention of
being in the oneness of
love
WRITTEN TO:
INSPIRE
In the Name of love
we do loving things
to secure and keep
but one needs nurturing
and to be nurtured
iin the name of love
do you love me?