Long Negligent Poems
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I have two choices-
Negligence and recklessness.
I am even more dangerous in my sleep.
When my powers cascade.
What kind of disasters happened?
When I was sleeping selfishly?
They don’t know how to tell me it’s my fault…
But I can read their thoughts.
Which are usually ramblings that I can ignore.
But sometimes they are all thinking the same thing.
And I become caught in a kaleidoscope of voices.
Negligent or reckless?
I don’t even remember the crime.
But I do feel better now that midnight has passed.
Because this time I am locked up-
So that the world can be safe from me.
"And Today's Special is Wine and Cheese"
Some wine and cheese
If you would please
Depressed, I cannot express myself for I’m being oppressed and repressed
Yet, I reside in the west, my lines are treated as an unwelcome guest
I’ve ornamented ideas that will go unheard
Reading them will be seen as a vulture transcribed word
“A Stale Birthday Cake,” could be submitted
But a lot of terms are not permitted
If I leave those texts out to describe my rage
It might as well be written in the stone age
Here’s an example, “ , ” substantial white noise is found on this page
“The Penetralia Ruby Queen,” hint, the anatomy
But, is there no shame, outcry, how dare I, the audacity
It conveys about some person with a dancing nymph’s fantasy
But it altercates against the morals of Christianity
Here’s an example, “ , ” undeniably excommunicated for blasphemy
The villainous bark, scream, “Cultures Dark Theme”
It’s something written from a nightmare’s dream
If submitted, it would drive the masses into insanity
Yet, this piece of work prohibits the usage of profanity
Here’s an example, “ , ” silenced because others must be spared of its inhumanity
“The World’s Playground” still waiting to see if it gets banned
Negligent in comprehending the rules beforehand
The lyrics uses a word to describe a person who gets paid
In an ideal world, I could just switch the rhyme to being laid
Here’s an example, “ ,” my apologies for the cross realm alabaster masquerade
Finally, “Unzipped Apple Core,” was written as a rant indeed
Bitten by the fire ant, I was hoping it would supplant a seed
But apparently the flying monkey festival has everyone strapped to a ticking time bomb
Another useless firework display to a bromide poem, so turn the page to end this sitcom
The doctor said, "Take this. It will cure the social disease”
So, for my last supper please, I would like some wine and cheese
Updated 5/14/2019
Form:
This time around, I will not scatter these grains
to land where the weeds might choke them.
This time around, I will collect these kernels
and take them to the gristmill in my head
to crack under all that weight and break free…
Turning while the other is static
Between these stones lay our thoughts—
(the bran, the germ, the endosperm)
Fibrous fertility re(de)fined.
Crushing each layer to smithereens
Grinding and grinding, round and round
Negligent space between these stones
‘til I can think no more.
I gather my bushel of milled thoughts (ground yet still whole),
add some yeast, sugar and water.
We rest and we rise,
we take the punches and fall,
but we embrace the heat and rise again.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---I smile as I bite into my warm, buttered pan de sal
mesmerized by the sun, glowing in the east...
06042018
From Sunday to Sunday,
We work hard like the donkeys in sironko;
Moving to and fro like roadside vendors and hawkers.
Like the holy spirit has descended upon as,
The way it was on pentecost,we move up and down all day.
We go to the laboratory from the ward,
From the theater to the morgue,
To the store from the supervisor's office.
Thinking hard and keeping our brains in check,
We go to work everyday to save the dear lives of mothers and babies.
A blow of sadness hits our faces,
Whenever we lose one of them to death.
Regret fills our hearts for where we were negligent;
And we live never to forget that moment,
When,we relaxed on duty and messed things up.
Sometimes,a feeling of giving up kisses our lips;
And soon,when we are yet to verbalize it,
That we have given up and cannot try anymore,
Or that we are tired and clients should leave us alone, give us a break;
Sense overrules, and we return to our ethical boundaries.
We work,work,work;- like Rihanna sings.
We work and work and work till the work itself is tired of us;
But still,we work to save their lives; mother's and babies.
Pushing and screaming; crying and fighting,
Quarrelling and abusing us;
We urge her to breathe in,and breathe out;
To relax and calm down,and think not about anything other than her baby;
Whom,she has carried for nine months,
Persevering through the sleepless nights and pregnancy complications
Just to see her child become someone who will breathe and live on its own.
On the other hand,we desist from the temptation to slap her;
She can mean to be disappointing sometimes; you know??
A smile tickles our lips,and our teeth,we hide no more.
Sweat runs down our faces,but we forget to wipe it away, overwhelmed with joy!
The crying of the baby,is the joyful laughter of the mother.
It is the peaceful relief of the midwife.
Allover the world,that is what we do. That's our daily routine.
I was down the ladder,
I was negligent in working harder,
I couldn’t read and spell well,
It was a menacing hell.
I ranked fourth from the bottom in the end-of-session examination,
This was a result of my weak educational foundation,
My parents were extremely disappointed in me,
It was a sail across a turbulent sea.
It was a summer away from the sun,
A holiday with restricted fun,
My older brother revealed to my mother that I had been hiding my reading textbooks,
I brought them out and my heart sank deeper by my parents’ disappointed looks.
My mother patiently taught me how to spell breaking words into their syllables,
She was glad as I made progress,
The new session began on a promising note,
I was no longer aboard a sinking boat.
I emerged among the top three at the end of the first term,
At the end of the second term, I had moved to the second position,
I was no longer in the shadows,
I had come to the blooming meadows.
It was the final term to end the session,
My father as well as my mother promised to get a gift for me if I could come top of the class,
This made me work harder,
Pushing me beyond the border.
Then came the much-awaited colourful day,
Hope was my piercing ray,
I had put in my best,
I had sat well in my nest.
The results were announced and I was victorious,
This made the event for me more glorious,
My father bought me a bicycle,
My mother gifted me a pair of shoes and a wristwatch.
October 2, 2024.
Waves on the rocks
a'crashing
In it human feet go
splashing
And elsewhere in the
swollen river
'gator tails go thrashing
Water may be stagnant
or it may be thus moving
Sometimes softly
dripping
at times forcefully
gushing
In brooks babbling
In streams gurgling
In springs bubbling
In rivers running
From faucets freely
flowing
or from pipes coercingly
spurting
At times noisily sloshing
But in lakes musically
rippling
In it diving and wading
In it refreshing bathing
Or spic and span
cleansing, rinsing
In it slow sailing or
speedy surfing
Fishermen fishing or
busy boating
Ah water, through cracks
seeping
From waterfalls
cascading
As rainwater splattering
From sprinklers
sprinkling.
From hoses spattering
From rooftops streaming.
In whirlpools swiftly
swirling
From taps simply trickling
Elsewhere rushing,
whooshing
Ah yes water is life,
water tis a böon
except when it goes
flooding, drowning
or tsunami sea-quaking!
Then only it becomes a
bane
as it drags dreams and
dreamers
down the drain!
But oughtn't we be
preserving
instead of forever
polluting
This precious liquid so
valuable to life
Oughtn't we be saving?
Instead of negligent
wasting?
Ignorant, is not my identity in my struggle for my race.
Damaged, is not my identity by the disparaging arrows flung at me.
Effected, is not my identity to the wickedness of man.
Negligent, is not my identity as a moral human being.
Tattered, is not my identity.
Impatient, is not my identity to the slow walk in my ancestor's shoes.
Transparent, is not my identity.
Yes, it is not my identity to be caught up in the windmills of others' minds.
Ideology, my identity is invested.
Distinguished is my identity in my faith in the almighty God.
Emancipated is my identity from a life of mental oppression and inhibition.
Navigated am I with a strong will to be a part of a struggle for justice.
Tenacity is my identity.
Ignited is my identity blazed in the hope of a change.
Tagged is my identity by the history of my culture.
Youthful optimism is one of the many facets of my identity.
copyright 2016
Colossians 3:15
And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body, and be ye thankful.
The system failed us all
But none wanna take the blame
Not even the leaders
This s makes us lame
Even when we're in our lane
Working with confident
They do negligent
Forgetting we got evident.
Instead of shutting negativity down
They wanna shut the city down
Just to perform the rituals
So they can carry out their evil acts
They keep generational wealth
But keep neglecting the people's well being.
Instead of working on the security sector
They try to bring their own setup
Giving section and sanction which is law
That only suits their insecurities
Because they know the damage they've done
The graduates have to work for illiterates
A city where the skillful and competent works for the tyrants and incompetent.
The lure of lucrative jobs
In foreign lands
Excites desperate souls
As they see a better future
Than in their homeland
Recruitment agencies
Operate from shady joints
Promising dream jobs
With perquisites to match
For these gullible customers
Human traffickers
Pose as messiahs
Enticing innocent candidates
From rural areas
With tempting proposals
Once on board,
They exploit the poor souls
By confiscating
Their travel documents
And short-selling their skills
They are not petty criminals
It is a well-oiled machinery
That perpetrates
And perpetuates
Such atrocities on migrant labour
Many agencies chip in
To run this recruitment mafia,
Negligent government agencies
And casual outlook of courts
Add to their woes
The hapless victims
Pay a heavy price
And get sucked into the vortex
Of a vicious circle
They did not bargain for
Adored sister, dry the warm tears
flowing from these gleaming eyes:
let them dazzle more than jewels:
they are dedicated to all sweet mothers
who live for their sons, unlikely fathers
whose role is to teach them harsh lessons!
Dad was a shameless womanizer, he demanded
faithfulness from mother and discipline from us;
he rarely smiled and hugged us in needy times:
we looked to mom for sweetness, and being loved
by her, transformed our gloomy moody into smiles,
replacing what he never offered, never shared!
Rise this boy from Hell, let him taste a bit of Heaven;
he has cried and begged for affection not punishment:
all the deep scars are permanent signs of negligent
attitude towards a feeble teen with an iron-will holding on
to whatever last strength he shows to boldly own,
he rebels to this injustice while sister consoles his heart!
Boys build up their character passed on by their fathers,
should they lack confidence: all turns to nothingness;
strong fathers are the example of desirable masculinity,
and whatever they accomplish is reflected in their son's
personality: the stronger the impact, the better the legacy!
An adolescent's pain must be seen as the gravest animosity
carried inside, unable to escape from its horrid imprisonment:
who will free him from the desolation, the grief and the misery?
Can a sister, a mother smother it with a glance of comprehension?
A loveless childhood leads to coldness, to extreme confinement:
love your boy more than yourself, give him purpose and ambition!