Long Inexcusable Poems
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Suffocation experienced analogous
to absent echocardiogram
or electroencephalogram blip
(Derek Chauvin - he of
George Floyd infamy) iron maiden grip
linkedin with psyche subjected
to laceration courtesy cruel horse whip
mine inexcusable
(albeit clueless faux pas)
family members living social in Bend, Oregon
and Oakland, California did yip
private information across cyberspace did zip.
Apology (ex post facto)
extended regarding about
mine guilt ridden conscience
programming mental state
think sufferable infinite
jesting Möbius strip
casting dark shadow of doubt
looping along outer limits
of twilight zone
futilely shucking off
emotional tailspin (kamikaze) fallout
impossible mission
unable to muzzle or thwart lout
who poetically blurts out
simian old routine programmed
erroneously heavily incorrectly
peppers entire Hollerith
or IBM punched cards
yielding botched defenseless redoubt,
when Yankee doodles dandy
teapot short and stout
convection currents trigger
whistle Dixie when liquid piping hot
a microcosm concerning plate tectonics
across webbed wide world
yielding necessary oomph
to migrating trout.
Absent awareness
flourished amidst ignorance
sixty plus shades of gray matter
hotly doth smolder and burn
unbeknownst rancor did furiously churn
when yours truly divulged
he made aborted attempt
to couch his genuine
paternal care and concern
lack of discrimination
and judgment I did not
(honest to dog) recognize nor discern.
Understandable blameworthy
grievance against me,
not granted app parent permission
thus culpability I obediently yield
words that sparked hurt
now utilized to wield
heft to communicate authentic love
(cryptically coded)
and hermetically sealed
hopefully in due time
mine discretion well healed.
She had lived for ninety years.
Life had been a patchwork of promises;
some kept, many broken, all remembered.
Born one cold December morning when
the world dared to dream again.
Wicked war won at inexcusable cost;
thousands lost; gone and never to return.
A lesson learned? Not for long it seems.
They met while still at school.
Young love. First promise; he said he'd
make her his wife, spend his life in pursuit
of her happiness and they glowed with the
innocent flush of youthful exuberance.
Then he left her when the call to battle came.
He died on a beach in 1940 and she became
a widow before being a bride, and she cried,
inside and out for the rest of her days.
A faded photograph on her locker and in
her memory a youthful kiss, a lifetime missed,
for her heart died too with the loss of him.
She never married, carrying her grief to the grave.
Her sister had a son, a soldier too, and he survived.
A promise kept, but his son went to Afghanistan,
and was killed by the Taliban. Thankfully Lily never knew.
Broken promise at twenty two; he left a sweetheart
who wears his ring. They had a home, and hope of
happiness, all lost in the explosion of destruction.
Lessons learned? I don't think so, as soldiers die
and their women cry. All Lily's life languishing
in loss, and many more now count the cost.
And a baby cries; born one cold December morn'.
He sees his mother cry for she is grieving
for a father he will never know.......
and so it goes on, and so and so and so.
There is no Beating in this Hollow, Heinous Heart
Eternal empty eyes emitting, inexcusable iniquities
Jutting juxtaposed jackal jaws, tearing Love apart
Anathematize abandoned, never forgiving Atrocities
This is how I live, how I grow, how I stay in control
Eternal empty eyes emitting, inexcusable iniquities
Where are you Love?, I Long for YOU, with LOVE so TRUE
I gaze into the Eyes of LOVE; I see the Darkness of Death
Yet my Heart can not Shed a Tear, For Eons of FOREVER
I Will ALWAYS and FOREVER, LOVE YOU, LENORE
I gaze into the Eyes of LOVE; I see the Darkness of Death
Jutting juxtaposed jackal jaws: Tearing LOVE Apart
Shredding the Heart, ripping away My LOVE : and my Breath
The Tears are running down my cheeks, for Hell’s dark road I depart
My Eyes burn, covered with the Billows of the Smoke from Hell
The Tears are running down my cheeks, for Hell’s dark road I depart
There is no Beating in this Hollow, Heinous Heart
Anathematize abandoned, never forgiving Atrocities
Yet my Heart can not Shed a Tear, for Eons of FOREVER
Walking, a Dark lonesome hot ember road, through Eons of Infinities
To be Continued
Inspired by TPS’ blog “Integrity“; this is the Liege you do not see
Dedicated to those who do not believe, like me
Ignorance comes with a specific gesture of innocence
After lifting a mountain, there is none, with your limitations.
And, I will start here, past the speaker and the audience, conversations...
I was looking at the calligraphy along the wall. Scriptures. Huge and magnificent.
Little did I know about. And, it was a very different kind.Aesthetical views certify.
I wished; I could touch those words! Only to reach the skills of a dedicated craft.
I was gazing through those words.In my mind,with an inexcusable lack of efforts. Islamophobia, a tantalizing talk nowadays, to tag questions with a context of life.
Never met the artists, for stories untold, behind the dedication,inspiring, at least.
Lavish, tall structures with those massive chandeliers, competing for divine light.
And, I was nobody but an inner cry. Though nothing is trivial in the eyes of God.
He, who knows, limitations of those working hands, with a toiling, struggling life!
It was inexcusable, so I
applauded
Marauder of my emotions,
pacing ... seething
Bored with action,
his disgusting attraction to
scoffing at me
repeatedly
Same old rusty pin
popped my heart balloon until
I lost count
What did he think I would
amount to?
dust
He predicted it
so I fulfilled
the prophecy perfectly
all
by
my
self
What could have been
a long, lovely bike ride
was rudely interrupted by a
loss of balance
From my deeply skinned knee
slowly emerged dark red Hues
of Blues
that had resided below the surface
for way too long
Then the numbness set in
only adding to the pain
Finally, resorting to a place of
pitying him
helped more than a million
countless therapy sessions
Past the point of being
passive. Too weak to be
aggressive,
his big mental muscles
stopped scaring and scarring me
after enough time was lost
I killed him in my dreams and
revived him
in this other reality
What is there to gain
from a man like that
Deadly hurricane surged and diffused all over
Destroyed all with its diabolical power
Devastated and submerged the low-lying realms
Demolished all docks, houses, roads and toppled elms
Decimated the life in a large proportion
Dismantled violently the secure position
Disfigured beautiful landscape of rich green lush
Dispelled existing course of action into gush
Danger bells were ignored and there so many wails
Distressing ghastly sights are heart rending tales
Detached life from nature is inexcusable
Destined grief, a wound which is incorrigible
After the Hurricane Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
Date: 27/10/2020
One day I delivered a poem
one that seemed to be premature
so I swaddled her up
and set her aside
to grow 'til I felt reassured
How she yowled and howled for attention...
how she cried so piteously!
How she coughed and she sneezed
whimpered and wheezed
then threw up all over me!
Still I tenderly tended her bedside
and lovingly nursed her along
determined to sacrifice everything
to raise her up healthy and strong
As she grew and recovered, she wandered
and crawled over everything
and I found I had trouble containing
my rambling, unruly offspring
She became an inexcusable bounder
a wayward and bratty ingrate
who despite all my love and affection
refused to make sense or read straight
She dallied in questionable places
she idled and shiftlessly shirked
lazily lagging, ignoring my nagging
while I selflessly, endlessly worked
Firmly applied discipline to her
and structure, and meter, and rhyme
but she bucked, and rebelled, and bit me
and stayed up beyond her bedtime
We wrestled, and wrangled, and brawled,
bickered in bitter altercation
if I didn't do something quite soon
she would ruin my good reputation
At length, I decided I'd had it
we had reached the end of the road
and although she clung like a wet paper towel-
I flung her and flushed the commode!
We know your game
And we are not going to become slaves to it
We've seen you spin your lies like a spiders Web
Your crimes of deceit will come back to smite you
The heavens will rain down on you
There is no escape from eternity
Hear these words said
Let them infest your head
Your silence will betray you
Days will turn to nights
Insomnia will plague you
Like darkness it will consume you
The weight of your actions will crush you
The pain you've inflicted on black people
Will come back to haunt you
Forever waiting in the shadows to spook you
You will know no peace in life and death
This is a promise
A warning
And a threat
What you've done to my people
Is inexcusable
I trace the blushing texture
of smoked allure
with aching fingers,
fervent and blue ~
inhaling the intense incense,
exhaling the iron thorn
of love sabotaged
for I feel your hands ferociously
roaming my flawed frames
eager to taste the fragments
of the sunrise you seek
in hues of hostile gold...
while the tales within
your eyes reveal
the truth of my tongue
twirling and teasing
colors of confession
and amethyst reveries
stroking the weight of want
in soft butterfly ink blooms
kissing your fears
into fluorescence
bringing your armored spirit
to kneel at the altar of attachment,
glued to the crimson of craving,
as an inamorato trembling ~
struck by the fever of fixation...
there is no escape, O beloved
from this inexcusable
intoxication of passion ablaze...
longing has no logic to philosophize
and you are now sitting
imprisoned as an impassioned
Antony’s portraitist
upon Cleopatra’s pedestal
wedded to the edges of infinity ~
a torn canvas is two paintings
oblivious to the galleries of grief
as healing hums through walls
that feel the melodious mists
falling like rain of rippling roses
pulling and pushing nevermore
but soaked in the dews
of quivering seconds
tuning time through heartbeats...
we are dreamers of what would be
if the acrylic carves wounds
into an ineffable masterpiece
the dawn never asked for more than
a constellation
untouched and unmoved by doubt
the sun never questioned
the sands of sorrow
so melt these tears
into your sweet fire ~
breathe my demons
into your warm sky
release all resistance
you are no longer trapped, but free
in the arms of undeniable moonlight
engrossed in the perfumed spell
of wild heat ~
there is no threat in deep devotion;
love blossoms
as a sketched sanctuary
of softened colors and trust…
2025.08.04.
On this Monday, I was so please,
To find a piano in a new place.
Its location, opening and closing hours;
The welcome notes stand erected next to it:
"Do you know a tune? Come and play me"
Have successfully lured me,
It was a Brash and Paling black baby grand piano,
So far everything suites me to a tea.
I sat down, cleaned the keys and started playing.
Strangely, I got nervous for no apparent reasons.
I played alright but missed a key every now and then.
I felt embarrassed and started to wonder.
There was no audience in the foyer,
Nor any one I knew of in this building,
So what was all these anxious feelings.
Over a few day, more and more people filmed me,
Especially when I played
"The Moon represents my heart" and "The Love Story".
I was overwhelmed by their sincere appraisals.
I thought hard and then realised,
It was the songs I chose,
The ways I played them with passion,
As remarked by Beethoven
"To play a wrong note is insignificant
To play without passion is inexcusable".
This time, I played and took regular breaks.
The tuning was much better than all others.
The sound was loud but subtly,
It still required tuning but not desperately.
Last but not least, the long opening hours,
Enable me to come in the early evening,
And that helped freeing up
My day time to do other things.
At the end of the first evening,
Some one asked if I would be back next week,
So he could hear more of my musics,
Well, it was nice to have a date with a music's purpose.
In another day, some one offered to help me
Gaining access to the piano on Sunday.
I was quite overwhelm by the whole situations.
This new experience suited me in every sense.
From memory, it was one year ago,
I warned BB about the Lunar month of the ghost,
I planned not to see him just for that month.
But he made a decision, terminated our friendship,
Without saying goodbye, nor giving any explanation.
Well, life moves on and definitely I have moved on.
However, if it was not for BB, I would not have played piano.
Ironically, he would never heard me playing.