Long Moil Poems

The year has finally yawned and turned       
Upon a half-revealed shoulder.
A vibrancy, intrinsic to a reemerging 
Enforcement of the strengthening light, 
In its deliberate and unconcerned   ...

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I’m not sure I understand my boss
He does it all and credits me
He makes the plan, and says I did
He works the plan, and states it’s me
Writes the report, and crowns it mine
My mysterious Boss!

He...

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A POET AS METAPHOR**********

I am a poet from the common ground, 
From thIs blue planet’s distinctive character— of
Continental shifts and rockslides, from valleys to Mountain crowns — always toiling to reclaim itself.

I am a poet...

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Hereabouts the thinning glades
Of sparse grey Birches:
Brackens crisp copper tresses 
All aglow;
Gently waking Snowdrops
Lift their sleepy heads
From leafy beds of woodland moil,
When tucked snugly up,
Out of intrusive sight and just 
Below.

Fondly the slowing bend
Hugs upon...

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Extraneous entities.
Isochronious through space.
Alight upon Terra Firma.
For Aurelian they chase.
Imperative they seek,
a golden sheild to divide
Havoc our sun reeks.
Nibiru must survive.
Harsh and deadly the conditions.
A planet so deprived.
An atmosphere 
once guarded, safe for them to...

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Written: August 05, 2023

Put Yourself in Their Shoes Poetry Contest         Sponsor- Eve Roper
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In the realm of dawn, where hope does reside,
We eagerly anticipate the forthcoming day.
With hearts...

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There’s an addict residing deep within me-
Seeking and probing for the seventh si,
In the abode of the Conscious Spirit~
Solmizate a song which on my life writ.
 
Probing for one single way of rhythm,
My strivings to...

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Down in the dark
where we live and we breathe.
in a place where most,

could never believe.
Through the smoke and the dust
by our blood and the rust.
Hear the clanging of steel
and in your chest you can feel.
the...

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Waiting ,waaaaaiting   !!!
 2 or 3  decades  
 or generations i'm ?
 what ? , where,? here
  i'm an egg in suspension
 life in apprehension
 waiting , waitng ,
 at...

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68 and a day?                               ...

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is you cute?
or is you mute?
they like when you mute
drowning in a salty pool and all your sugar dilute
a grin they never wanna see on your face 
 a sad clown they wanna paint on...

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When would you change?
Change for better,
And stop saying after.
It will not make better,
Your life is in bitter.
Your father is at the farm toil and moil,
Working so hard to break the soil.
Every job you dodge away,
Everything...

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I Almost drowned,
which is to say,
I fell upwards into a darkness
that contained no earth or sky.

Ten years old and a strong swimmer,
but that lake only buoyed up
its own natatory denizens, 
it allowed some to swim,
some...

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At first we seemed to slope
Low and low, I thought we could drop
Then snaking through the hills, we
rose
And I imagined the valleys could close
Yes! This was the land of awe

I peered through the windows and
saw
The...

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Thoughtfully I gaze
Far beyond the sun’s glaze
I wonder what behind there lay
Or even how it knew the way
That tirelessly each passing day
Moves the sun, brazenly!

The rays hit the earth in beams
And warm even the waters...

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It is a nagging subject,
this quest within the mind
to reach beyond the self to
that great universal churning
of the truth-- unfolding rays of light
we may not quite depend upon, yet
praise.  It does not go away.

One...

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Winter February finalises, 
his tenure o'er, so oft unkind, 
let Winter withdraw with firm good-bye. 
Hence I eager look to milder clime. 
Comes March, thus inclined to breezy moil, 
tulips and head held high daffodils
Springs...

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Flexing the six feet physique
to fill the eight inch stomach
Whole body with heart and soul
do sweat until fatigue to have bread
for the quarter stomach only. 
Labour Without seeing day or night, fully
to see the smiles...

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Demons of old to toil and tither,
Moil of mine to wine and hemal,
Of thee comes brood and beast,
Whence a nite of tongues and chattering teeth.

Forth slips shimmers of golden rims and grims which greet,
Sips from...

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Heartbroken can’t express the grief
Fingers cannot contain the torrent of tears

Justified to feel fractious
Fractious but without justice

The moil of sleeplessness
An anxiety of tragedy, the tight, oppressive grip

Grief Management, or so it’s called
Manage grief? Palliate this...

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At eighty he is still a coolie
toiling in paddy lea;
reaping pods and
heaping the seeds.

His sagged muscles working
in wonted harmony
But his brain tired of thought;
of his son who died as a sot; or
of his daughter widowed...

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He manages me with fiery eyes
Though my working is excellent
I toil and moil under severe working conditions
But pays me a little with delays

Early at the dawn to the sunset
I work through a gazillion of your...

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Born not with the silver spoon
A tragic fact for the sprogs of the less
Through gloom and doom, the smiles persist
Amidst hunger and hardship, happiness insist
Comfort, like the rain in desert
Yet the heart is a palace...

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This craving desire that groweth in me, 
Has opened the eye of my mind as to see

The chance of my daughterly duties abound
Shall serve so a well-kept privilege I found.

To none other than my eternal...

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Loss runs so far and fast like a crook
we stay as one and sure let no wrong
the win was just at the tip of our hook
we grab it in joy and hit the gong
pads and...

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