Long Obscurely Poems
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The winding wings spread wide
I fly aimless in the turbulent air
Across the fading hues of the rainbow
I get caught in the clutch of curling storm cloud
The silver lines disappear in the surge of darkness
Where I see the birth of rain drops
In the debris of shattered sky that falls
Making tears of the melancholic night.
My drenched wings become heavy
Can’t flutter any more like before
I drift like a dislodged despondent leaf
In the wild winds of the surging storm
Get sucked in the centre of its eye.
My vision turns obscurely opaque
Can't see though the maze of time and space
I spin unsanguine in the storm vortex
Get dumped in the depth of depression
Dreams break and hopes splinter
The shards of wrecked mind are blown away
In agony I close my wounded wings
The gust takes me to the horizon of no return.
That’s when after the storm-torn night
The divine dawn rises in sunburst splendor
The shine enters my soul on the beam of bliss
I find my folded wings unfurl
And in the vastness of the inner sky I fly again
In the tranquil continuum of eternal peace
For there is no other way to span life
It only seems that way.
March 22, 2021
Contest : It Only seems That Way
Sponsor : Kai Michael Neumann
April 22, 2021
Contest : All Yours (Apr 23)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
THE DESIGNER'S LAMP
Destiny an unsighted lamp someone lighted when you arrived
lights the unpaved path for you to complete the journey of fate.
The self-invented free-will envelopes your mind with a veil unreal,
the destination obscurely ordained you would reach for you should.
The essence of the unseen light floods your intuition unperceived
where you construct vagrant free-will in the realm of self-deception.
The designer’s lamp glows remotely during the time allotted to you,
its hidden rays would guide you all the way to the end for they should.
June 27, 2018
Line of inquiry:
“What if life is a lucid dream
Borne by thoughts we ourself did stream
Wherein our designated role
Is to dance atop love’s moonbeam” - Unseeking Seeker
Where lies our purpose to be placed
upon this Earth, a speck of dust
hard to depict, obscurely spaced?
Yet, here we are, our lives in trust.
As part of this grand Cosmic realm,
we may believe it's all a dream
feeling in charge behind our helm-
in grasping each favored moonbeam.
But an epiphany will dawn
recognizing that on this Earth,
by God's supreme, unending spawn-
we share His miracle of birth.
Surely by God, we've come to be-
as felt within His gift of soul.
Faith in our journey is the key.
Trust in His love will keep us whole.
Upon this Earth, a speck of dust-
yet, here we are, our lives in trust.
Hard to depict, obscurely spaced.
Here lies our purpose to be placed.
Springing free from glistening
Fronds
The summers heat leaps for
Height;
Whilst drifting obscurely far
Above
A distant lark now hangs in
Flight.
Floats down his sweet trill,
Accompanied by joyous and
Uplifting revelry,
Over the black crows nasal
Calls;
Whose draped shadow,
contemplating devilry,
Flaps and furtively falls
Into ripening bean fields
Planted in neatly sowed rows:
Nourished in darkest till,
Enriched by pedantic verse of
Gaelic odes.
Do now these gentle Slopes
Pause to yield
Where secretive song,
Bursting forth, is much concealed
inside the plain of Aidhne;
For here the great rock of the
Burren,
Whereby so implored upon,
Revealed its grey stones...
To rebuild ancient and deserted
Thoor Ballylee.
Sweeping briskly past a tors
Grassy island busy in bloom,
Eagerly cramming under four
Crouched arches,
Skim the borrowed waters of
Thee immortal Cloone;
Dappling currents
Dawdling around squat stanchions -
Staunchly carrying the quiet bridge
Over the old concourse:
Momentarily loitering -
Wantonly begging to coyly swoon...
Now, joyfully sporting in gushing
Discourse,
Gleefully courting elusive and
Glimmering enchantments:
Mirrored reflections enticed to
Enter -
To be forever trapped within a
Burbling rivers sacred rhyme and
Tune.
Higher and higher the spiraling
Stairs of de Burgo
When through airy woodland
Glades
The towering shadow sought;
And higher and higher the spirit
Of an ageing poet...
His crowding thoughts
Roaming freely amidst these
Fabled legends of Gort.
Harken then to the feathered
Herald -
Tis Gods design that calls on
Ye!
For few men know of what he
Sings...
He sings of the forgotten paths
Forever lost within Innisfree.
the waning moonlight thinly enveloped
the dusky canvas obscurely sprawling
across the way from the window I looked,
I knew a park was there with slides and swing
but for the moment dark revealed nothing,
for the moment I didn’t care, either
because in darkness I felt even darker;
I was lying in bed embraced by regret
of decisions of love and time wasted,
spooning the layered sheets of doubt and fret
all thawed out from my heart into my head;
The memories of hurtful comments said
by and to me were chastising voices
of ghostly choices purposed to depress;
As dusk became the night I became lost
in whimsically strewn wishes and pleas
to gods and stars and genies alike, crossed
as eyes crying for mother drowned in seas,
I spoke to nobody but begged for keys
to unlock another time, another place
to start all over again with new space,
To unseen gods I had long since quit on
I prayed, bargained even, another chance
and I’d do everything right this season
- A jobless man needing a pay advance,
But for thirty three years nary a glance
had alpha or omega set on me
and this night I expected no divine decree;
several hours elapsed as I collapsed
in smoldering thoughts of suicide fanned,
- I had outlasted night’s concealing grasp,
and as the morning sun began its planned
ascent, I gave into Hades’ command
through my tenth floor window whispered to me
of hellish suggestions to jump and flee;
on ledge I stood and looked across the way
for one last glimpse of earth and pastel sky,
- a small souvenir of my final day,
My eyes settled on last night’s park from high
above, and that’s when I saw God’s reply,
- an unspoken answer for eyes turned blind,
His deafening promise to all mankind;
by his heavenly brushes came colors
where none had been, transforming lonely space
into one of vibrance and life renewed,
- and it was a different space,
I watched as birds celebrated morning
with songs of praise and thankfulness,
- and I felt a quick waning emptiness,
I heard the children below lining up
for the school bus all on time and ready
to live and learn in this new day granted,
- and I felt like I knew nothing at all;
but then I knew everything all at once,
and I stepped off the ledge ready to live,
ready to embrace
ready to seize life found…
in another time.
The home nestled in the hue of the blue hills,
on the wall of my longing there hung a mirror,
opened my one way window on the wispy sky,
like a bird I spanned with the wings of youth.
In the winds of the waning time I flew away far,
at the luring end of the memory lane lighted,
the nest I had kept abandoned for a long while,
I nurtured in the fondness of a nostalgic niche.
Soaring above the strata of clouds of many skies,
reached the edge of the horizon of the spent sun,
where flow of flight stopped at the twilight hour,
the whirlwind whispered the homecoming song.
The wheel of time turned on dry dust of the past,
with the southern wind I rose, flew home joyous.
I looked into the old mirror, obscurely clouded,
saw my namesake, much younger, I’ll never forget.
September 21, 2019
September Ember Dismembered
Crisp Air, Baking Orb Basks,
Triggers Sorry "G'Bye Summer!" Tasks,
Daring "Where, What Shall We?" Asks...
Belated Yearning, Last Day's Angst,
Related Stirrings of Routine Must Be Yanked,
Or, Halcyon Days Slip Away Into the Tank!
I know! Visit & Trist, With a Loved One Resist!
Conspire Together to Ban the Hum Drum Cyst,
Seize the Light, Rotten Darkness Cease & Desist!
Sensate Focus, Expand Our Staid Locus,
Listen to Each Other, Share Inner Hocus Pocus,
Sparks of Our Views Exchanged Stoke Us!
Perhaps Oases Lie Not Above the Ceiling,
Nor End on Summer Season, Nor Below Our Kneeling,
We Meet the Enemy, for It's Us That's Stealing!
Grasp an Opportunity or Resist a Temptation?
Traipse Obscurely in Condemning Time's Ration,
Buy "Here & Now's" Ticket for the Train's in this Station!
"Hear & Know" Exposes Vain Untrue Fear,
The GPS of Vitality Does Not by Satellite Steer,
I Must Trust Relationships & Look in the Mirror!
For Facing, Listening, Working, Not Being Shy,
Local Thanks Go Global, Removing My Sty,
The World & I Are Not Running on Empty!
I Felt the World Needed Exchanging,
So Also My Neighborhood Could Stand Rearranging,
But When Improving I, All Began Changing!
By Vicki Acquah on Thursday, April 18, 2013
Prince Kennedy & Oladeji Vicki Acquah
Disappeared
We- are gone
diluted into oblivion
we have nothing left but our footprints
The handwriting is no longer on the wall
The noses are broken off
we are no longer us
Obscurely written out of
life's script, no future roles to play.
The primitive man and all modern
day caveman - and sand men have
forgotten the people of the soil-and
the trees and the water and the mountains
women behaving _nonchalantly___
as they watch -us being erased;
Written out of history.
What is left of us
we who write poetry
that does not impress wealth,
they eat, we die -- they drink
we go thirsty, they make
merry with their Dirty sex;
While we imitate our exterminators.
we disappear with
broken noses and borrowed hair
We are no more.
Our costumes died
then our children
with no past and no future
we are no more~~~~
Now that we are being
created by our scribes;
penned down ages before we could
realize that our solemn but
equivocal art, superimposed
with fervent sentences bore
more intonations & meanings
than maidenly sought;
We lie within our meditative silences.
Reminiscing the helter,skelter and
dither, through which our stories
were told in words.
While the strokes by our quills
fade & shiver to sheer posterity
but eventful mileages;
We beseech this forthcoming generation
To voice out in unison the
unfinished phrases, but clauses
yet again.We are now no more.
Although there were a few scattered
prospects yet to be achieved;
we lie abed not asunder,
With no regret or fear or whatsoever
We are no more.
Only in fiction shall we meet
To play our parts with unsung aptitude.
As our styles are pursued;
Until then, we are no more.
As life still beckons on
with trajectories being preached
but sold,We pray you, this age
that celerity & glee fuel your
palms but gumption's with
deepened emotions & thinking caps.
As the die is cast,
Till the results are known;
We are now no more!