Long Imprisoned Poems
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Or flag has turned upside down
In distress our nation's found
A one world order at liberties loss
Forgotten the soldiers that paid our freedoms cost
Burning parchments from the past
That held the wisdom of our founding fathers path
In God we trust has been forgot
Something must change
This has to stop
Warriors treated as criminals, cons
And terrorist talked to like leaders, Gods
Our Presidents a cowardly man
Eloquently twisting what is truth and forcing his demands
Executive orders
With all disregard
Brutally welding power against
The constitution and people he swore to protect
Given chance after chance to prove
His good intent and heart
Your all soon to be imprisoned and disarmed
Brainwashed armies
Forced to follow
Obeying orders
To kill the innocents
And fellow Americans
Out of control our National debt
It's time to stand
For what is left
Propaganda all around
Purposely staged to cause chaos and confound
Leaving our people in fear and dumbed down
Slowly they sell America's shores
Someday the enemy will come to collect
At our children's doors
Pushing hatred
We must make hast
Not falling for a disillusioned war
Between each race
Listen friends
Look the liars in the face
They wait, like a thief in the night
To inflict marshal law
For control of our life
Destruction and injustice for all
With honor we must answer the call
Clip the beasts talons
Cripple the demon, relinquishing its claws
Hinder the heathens
That desires to watch
America's fall.
Form:
Trapped
An imprisoned animal walks the bars back and forth at the zoo.
I have seen my guy do the same thing in the garage.
You might think, perhaps I should be concerned?
Why would I consider them similar at all?
I will explain, a feeling…
When we are in a place or time that has limits,
we long to break them, to prove our worth,
if not to others, simply to ourselves.
A man is measured today… by his collections,
the “stuff” that he obtains, that actually possess him.
All things that will be worthless, once eyes are closed…
And… I tell you now, it will happen.
Being happy, has much as can be, given any circumstance,
is a way to live. Any action(s) less than complete…
“glorification” of the day falls so short.
Not worth measuring at all.
The cage…
it is precise from wall to wall.
Every step, until the fall.
WAITING SINGS ALONG WITH TORMENT
Each night aroma of jonquils arrive to tickle me
yet no console as I am a slave to your absence
as bright full moon slowly slit the dormant sea
in the field of black, hours, I crave for your essence.
The cold breeze of December can send the shivers
running intermittent into my back but weak for within
I am frozen waiting for the warmth you alone can deliver.
Today, later morning or a day after, I want to begin
shedding suffering, choosing long patience in between.
You imprisoned my heart since the day we declared love,
our love silenced jazzy heartbeats, we feel so green,
the hundred memories we shared white as dove.
I am to wait even if waiting sings along with torment
for I believe the promise we said is pure of intent
__________________________________________________
==CONTEST NAME: WAITING==
=Contest Sponsor: Craig Cornish=
~~2nd Place~~
6:43 PM, September 10, 2015
The brainwashing of non believers has begun
backwards peddling parties on the streets
taking away all basic rights under a family structure
imposing ridiculous arguments hell bent within such destruction
This new age occult removes freedom of speech
where good values have become imprisoned facts
impaired visions caught inside the dark web
Judged by those promoting sinful acts woe behold
educational standards fall dramatically backwards
liars sit on the seats of the state's offices thieving clowns
spreading corrupt pagan literature this vulgarity shape shifts
The truth runs a red light and turns it green
fornicators stealing every humane virtue drunken louts
pushing a strange lifestyle foreign to the majority
tolerance has just jack knifed away from love
Equality has lost all foundations killing the innocent's word
when the temple of our Lord Most High Spirit
is shunned and burdened by man's awful silence
and complete disobedience each one afraid to condemn
what's wrong will never be right
yet they will never stand for what is right and just
instruct the ignorant has now become the policy under clouds
Fingers tremble,
like an alcoholic without a bottle.
His pen is graceful in its slumber,
but imprisoned ink desires to be free -
intoxicated by his poetry.
Lips are forever silent,
in the absence of inspiration.
Isolated in the boredom of blankness -
congested to think enough,
struggling to feel enough.
Fault is not in the poet,
but in his absent mind -
which is a metaphorical candle.
Each drip creating pools of dusty wax,
as ebony wick struggles to keep flame alight.
Monsters of the mind
keep musings locked away,
so he turns to poets from the past -
but even Rumi cannot rekindle his desires.
Eyes gaze among petals for stimulation,
but their dormant fragrance offers no solution -
he is blinded by loss of concentration.
He wonder if his mind has become a flower,
out of season, but refusing to die.
He reflects upon love and lovers,
past, present and future,
but it does not liberate his ink -
maybe romance is out of fashion.
As his tongue tastes autumn's crispy air,
gloomy horizons summon birds south -
their songs of joy soften into muteness.
He feel for their empty nests,
now visible through naked trees.
Yet no outpouring of poetic observations,
overcome him -
have birds taken his muse?
Maybe the fault is in the birds,
maybe the fault is in the question...
she drifted through an egg timer
as if imprisoned in a snow globe
a speckle of dust in the heat of sequence
turned upside down and back again
a centrifuge of forced cohesion
control anger self-imposed consent
she slipped on the endless surface
banged her head against the ceiling
dropped to the treacherous floor
only to take a breath of despair
suspended in broken limbo and
a script written by wrath injuries
incarceration dogma and defeat
wreathed with a crown of thorns
lacerated scared and vulnerable
puncture marks and crude exclamation
of a protagonist in agony
eventually the looking glass broke
shards and fragments set her free
no shelter apart from mental pain
bruised shattered and surrendered
a barely audible voice released the void
as she gathered the grains of doubt
enforced discomposure and surprise
she realized that she was far more
than the sum of intangible parts
and picked up the pieces aware
that certainty and collusion
had not been her friends but
evil foes had ruled her sentience
scattered strew swept her skin
as if to say sift through the dredge
once the cover dissipated in the fall out
no more a shell of crushing forces
she walked away as fast as the storms
that had held her captive for so long
02nd August 2021
"Neophoca"
I was dragged
out of my ocean
of dreams
when they peeled
my skin, I was broken,
an endangered species
feeding bits of me
to the carniverous
genus species
the genus
and gender
predatory
covetting my
freedom they
lost themselves
in the comforting
arms of my trust
they wore me out
made sleeves
of me, stole
my baby
expensive collateral;
their ownership belittled,
bruised and scorched
victory marks
like tattoos
marched on me
they branded me,
attached
to my life
untruthful labels,
their ignorance
basking
became them,
the sins
of the fetid
patriarchy
such violence, this
devoted dv, the human
seed planted
my baby,
zoo trained
and chained
I became uprooted
stalked, staked and
claimed
I became owned
I drowned in my
mortal dreams
such violence, this
devoted dv, the
imprisoned truth
life blood escaping
the juxtaposed
real me
Selkie
the humble humboldt
priests call me
Neophoca cinerea
they call me
reverently,
they sing me home,
home
to my only
holy See
they call me
reverently
Selkie
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"She"who was
deserted by her husband
is now swimming with positive thoughts,
aiming profusely to reach the shore
with the drive of knowledge
gained in earlier life.Occu-
pation is now keeping her
steady and independent.
Never can the inexp-
erienced people
understand the pain she has gone
through untill and unless they are subjected
to the same one.Stirred up with bitterness she
sits alone in a corner everyday and pours out her
inevitable pain to the vacant space;Often alluding to
her foolish marriage she whimpers secretly ,trying to
conceal her scars from her parents and pals.Fervently
questions God for joining her destiny with a wrong
mate.Whenever she steps out of her house hurdles
are impatiently crawling on her back digging up
her imprisoned life, to which she hammers
them boldly by her sharp screwing words.
But once she returns home she throws
away the public facade and easily
relinquishes.., slumps
on floor helpless
and only
sobs
cuddling
darkness.
She prays her
deity not to create
such an unworthy
disastrous renounced
matrimonial relationship to
any other women in the world.
17-6-2020
4th place in the Contest.
Note: "Thesaurus ~Abandon or Abandoned
Poetry Contest".
Sponsored by Dear Heart.
Strikingly Naked
By Odin Roark
Voicing the reflection one sees insures
the facade really is,
was,
must have been.
Time passes…
How smoky the reflection,
this aging identity of accumulated distortion,
where once perception played innocently,
found disguises to hide behind,
who now past the age of innocence,
sees the exposed abyss of shadowed deceptions.
Such awareness knows well the mirror,
where cognizance of the make-believe
beckons the right light,
the flattering shade,
the required eye-sparkle of denial,
no matter the reality.
At some point…
Behind the rehearsed and performed persona,
we raise the inner window
revealing the self-of-fact,
that place where we gulp
what air is left,
sucking up any reserved willingness
blowing in from subterranean shores
to help beat back our self-imposed exile.
One surges forward…
Pulls open the only door
the entrance we feared opening,
an opening your inner monologue
always whispered was there
but you chose to remain imprisoned
by the mirror.
Revelation…
The door now open,
leads to other doors,
so small they seem
as you bend, crawl,
find other rooms,
windowless cubbyholes,
where night sweats
and endless reprieves
once kept you breathing,
albeit your own recycled dead air.
How rewarding…
To see for the first time,
your own recidivist delusions
reverberating like shattered emulations,
blinding your eyes with its refractive light,
burning through regrettable behavior imprisoned,
where no steel bars were ever necessary,
where a place of truth awaited,
a wilderness you are finally ready to explore.
Such is the manifest moment…
When you couldn't be so strikingly naked,
had you not kept yourself so carefully dressed
all those years.
...A poem dedicated to a character named Koreen Mae Garson (a lady, not a man)...
Your love smokes me like a worn-out cigarette
Your love blemishes me with bite marks
You brush aside the crumbs…now I’m stomped on all over again
Your hugs are constricting like a serpent
Your hugs loses its passion…my fury vigorously sparks
You abandon me cold-bloodedly, now I choke in harsh punishment
Your treachery strangles me…you don't consider my screams of importance
You snatch away my humility and leave me with the crumbs of shame
Your arrogance plants a grave in me…you don't notice that I desire your radiance
You ditch me with senseless remarks and you make me feel game
You ruin my modesty
You stole away my heart’s virtue
You bruise my sustaining dynasty
You complete me with rue
Your conceitedness intoxicates me…
Your arrogance underwhelm thee…
You unscramble my remains and insert me with the liquid of corruption
Your self-confidence leads me to never-ending fate…you disregard my joy
You handle me with maltreatment/enchantment and smudge me with your provoking expression
You crushed me with your cunning plans, now you made me hunt after my prized boy
Your hatred penetrates me with lush, crooked trace
You swap me onto the floor, now I’m smashed into smithereens
Your smiles lose its splendor...your enlightenment gains disgrace
You disown me carelessly…now I spilled your moldering beans
You’re imprisoned by the chains of infuriating heat,
Feeding off the crumbs of deception