Long Fail safe Poems
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Love has taught me
to look deeply, beneath
the green of the heart’s
tender shoots –
every living soul
draws from a reservoir
of mixed feelings,
a spring of good laced
with evil –
I pray each day
we together strive
to trickle upwards,
in the ways of God….
Love has taught me,
that the heart, though
dedicated ruler of
body and its residing spirit
is often adversely
sway-able,
leading to autonomy
in name alone...
necessitating Christ
Love, in humanity,
as Father’s fail-safe and
Redeemer –
evil allowed by the
grace of God – not for
embracing its presence,
but for the power of
contrast –
not for what it is
but for what we learn
it can never be –
and the peace
it can never give us...
also taught me, that love
is exceedingly larger than
the lover – Therefore, not
any should think of
being defeated
for a world of hurt –
dear fondness may perish
or decline, leaving not a
measurable trace – yet, remains
a habitat unscathed, where fullness
of heart fills every vacated space –
it is a blessing I have realized;
one I have heard, well-intention
ministers preach – but only Divine
Love’s personal relationship can
ever indelibly teach –
So, as love was given me freely –
bargaining not with God, the source –
I will clearly keep love free
from earth’s surface, man’s chosen
Terrestrial-course – Love now the large
of me – outgrown my Novice Small –
Priceless Love keeping me, strong in
stance -- rock-solid – standing tall!
"Poeta Nascitur Non Fit"
Hated decades ago
Accepted a decade ago
Glorified now
To the extent
of what we are horrified by
Painted tainted enlarged adjusted
Altered lessened sculpted tatted
A misrepresentation of our creative space
Now you are different if you are not
And the crowd screams, "Vive La Difference"!
As oath breakers call upon the Now
Learning lessons learned in the fog
To make the fog lace
We were under dressed anyway
And at odds with peace
Waiting for options
That are fail safe
Hic et nune...Hic et ubique
gardez la foi
Vox populi...Vox Dei
Gardez la foi
Or trouble will come
which will leave us asking
"Where did we go wrong?"
Quie'n Sabe?
Forgetting forgot to forget
what to forgive
and who not to
and so here we are
In a state of constant acceptance
consumed by society's need
to remain the same
in a constant state of change
Yet we are forewarned...
Not to be physically immoral
Not to be thieves
Not to be greedy
Not to be wrong
But we deceive ourselves
and submit
We disease ourselves
and admit it and live through it
and say, "it's right"
when we know it's wrong.
Do you remember
when we couldn't act
like what we weren't
Or be who we were not??
We play with destiny
and it's forbidden activity
like climbing a latter
with broken arms
Lean forward step light
Listen hard
It ain't even real to be real no more
so why try if you ain't
It ain't even real to be real no more
Now it's real to be fake.
A secluded cabin
fail-safe into a mountain side -
Oh, so high, one feels
they can attain and adjoin the clouds
A pallet of goose-down feathers, veiled
by a hand sewn comfortor
and a spiderlike, dusty canopy -
a paradise for lovers
A perfect weekend -
paired with a bubbly jacuzzi
awaiting after a mile
rambling up, then down, this
lofty snow covered rock
A babbling brook and glossy
chestnut stallions trail along an
old gravel road, leading to a
dilapidated barn, now masking
wet hay, squirrels and wild rabbits
Snakes have shed their skins,
like elongated strands of silk
dangling from beams of rotten wood
and imperfect slate shingles -
Leaving their past in the present
for countryside tourists to enjoy
Bluegrass music is heard faintly
in the wilderness background
A rustic, but elegant
way to spend time, enabling
a soul to touch one's inner self
Tomorrow beckons way too soon --
reality returns, this dream weekend
now a fond memory,
as we take our leave of that
little creekside cabin on a
snow covered mountain crest
He’d flumed out of his liquid diet.
Shards on a dead man’s floor.
The book must be thrown at him.
The book falls on his fail-safe head.
The pages burn with recompense.
The pages could of…should have…
indeed did make him green -
at first with envy then around the gills.
He held a beauty in his hands
and the fame. They were captivated
by the change. Better than his past charges.
He’d let his spouse slip through the cracks
as he’d leapt to the ledge, across the way.
He was on stilts, on a catapult, on a high wire.
Things have now gone haywire. His fingers
slipping underneath the window. Why’d
he let his eyes lust after nouns, adjectives and verbs.
How absurd that his friends would get it so wrong.
Names can be swapped in the chaos.
He wasn’t dead. He was comatose.
He was his friend, once -
a friend who’d let no one read his manuscript.
Now it’s read by everyone.
The imposter might leap to the street
if the author clears his throat, opens his eyes.
Bile’s now his liquid diet. The suspense
almost over…the whodunnit solved.
5/29/2023
Folks say I'm struggling
That I'm old and confused,
They don't see all the haggling
Which leaves them bemused.
My colleagues are wordy
My enemies too,
But my willpower is sturdy
As I'm all for the Blue.
If now a bit slower
Even friends I seem faze,
But post Trump the bar's lower
And that's my fail safe.
The Media's a pain
What's with the shouting,
I shan't play their game
Their continual doubting.
Then there's old Bernie
And his Marxists galore,
With their bone headed journey
To simply point score.
Republicans matter not a bit in my mind
Obstructive and loudly they wail,
But Politics taught to never be kind
So let them act up and sullenly rail.
As to the Trumpers, what can I say
They live in a universe all of their own,
Their partisan anger a cause for dismay
While the stolen election they relive every day.
When all's said and done I'm proud of my job
Obama's on side to bring me relief,
My one secret weapon to quieten the mob
Sharing the load to make my weeks brief.
I was long beyond expiration date
When you plucked me off the shelf
You must have seen something in me
Not apparent to everyone else
I was running on exhaust fumes
Way beyond the fail-safe zone
Thinking chances of redemption
Passed me by when I was stoned.
Women were not the problem
There were more than enough back stage
dressed down to tease, willing to please
The only problem was their age.
I don't know what you saw in me
But I'm glad for whatever it was
Where others turned and walked away
You saw my good side not my flaws.
You scaled my wall of solitude
That I didn't even know existed
Now the choices that lie ahead of me
Don't look so lonely, dark, and twisted.
You ground me with your kindness
While giving me wings to soar
My head may be in the clouds on stage
But my feet are on our kitchen floor.
Fail-Safe
While venturing on uneven path of life
Fair chances to slip or slide at every strife!
Or to tumble on rumbles of obstacles:
How to tackle the shackles of hindrances!
My brain alarms sending advice
'Keep always Fail-Safe device
active and alert to control and support.
I dream ceaseless and continue my dreams
as I proceed and wish to succeed.
Dormant desires display designs of ambition
through lattice of dreams in light and shadow of happenstances.
Fail-Safe device to guard and guide.
It's my pride
as I dream and dream till fulfillment.
03/23/22
Fourth Place
Pick a Theme
Title chosen 'Fail-Safe'
Contest by Edward Ibeh
If you really want to know, play it backwards
Put the record on, the Beatles or the Byrds
An act you may find seemingly absurd
A hidden message fail safe, I’m assured
Is Paul really here and on the level
Did a stairway to heaven lead you to the devil
Check each record groove and bevel
In redundant curiosities I revel
Did you find yourself in a sudden trance
In a prompt unusual circumstance
Perhaps then it’s more than chance
Of what began as music and a dance
A bit of messaging subliminal
Some entertaining and minimal
Others verging on being criminal
Few for the mind, almost medicinal
You won’t hear the message at their live show
Only between your own wall and window
For the secret put the record on and turn it slow
And play it backwards, if you really want to know
Number One was Titanic, the monstrous liner,
In its, indestructible features, so finer;
Was the B - 2 Spirit bomber technical enough,
To face any challenge so rough or very tough...?
Was Mercedes-Benz W 140 feeble in mechanics,
That, while driving Diana, lost the dynamics...?
Hasn’t Jaguar, Ford or Ferrari ever,
Faced fatal accidents and damages sever...?
I've four air-balloons in my car, I used to think,
Until, in a direct crash, I found them just blink,
Among One thousand two hundred fourteen crashes,
Of Indian roads, aren't hundred become ashes...?
Safety of humans and things, here, is no foolproof,
Death finds its way, even if you have a strong roof;
Machines are used as they are: not as absolutes,
Equilibrium in extant could pave safe routes...!
15 March 2022
The future ahead seems so blackened in cast,
And the dark burrows into the dreams of the past,
Light for the blind being led by the blind
Figures curiously absent, scarcer to find.
Left-over feelings emotionally burn
On the remnants of hope, and then in return
Surf over the memories with nonchalant tide
And the signs on all exits read "access denied."
Alone and defenceless, at mercy of grief,
Precious moments embezzled, time is the thief,
Yet humanity's fail-safe kicks in at the brink:
There is only so far that a person can sink.
We are never alone, for somehow and somewhere
Someone else feels the anguish and bothers to care,
The resulting instructions remind us remain
Keeping faith with the others who feel for our pain.