Long Occluded Poems
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Once upon a time, in a town not far from here,
on a day that was not bright, on a day that was not clear,
a boy was born, and the newspaper would say,
"It was a partly cloudy day."
Everybody said, "What an odd little feller".
So, one day, his mother took him to the fortune teller,
but she only said as she drew up her shawl,
"Suddenly, I have a partly cloudy ball."
He met her in the morning, early in the Spring,
and by and by, offered her a diamond ring,
but true love once more eluded -
the gem he gave was cloudy and occluded.
His heart was not broken. It just had a little crack.
He sighed and went home early. Then he hit the sack.
He didn't shed a tear or even cry -
he just blinked upon each partly cloudy eye.
In his head, he puzzled as he lay awake,
but life to him seemed hopelessly opaque,
and his confusion would enshroud
a mind partially covered by a cloud.
The years, one by one, eventually passed
by the bloke known for nothing but being overcast.
I'm sad to report that he died just yesterday.
The paper said, "It was a partly cloudy day".
VERSE I
she brushed across my shoulders
the bedroom light broke
a breasted scimitar—dancing thoracic throat
what I once outran—now presses my lips
she carried no black-wing omen
yet every breath drew near
purple velvet summons
Murdering me with Cashmere.
PRE-CHORUS I
kiss drawn, the walls slant inward
and rouge, the dark-root took shape—
as if her inborne blackwork
could make the night a colourless drape.
CHORUS I
Murdering me with Cashmere
tugging at my countless heartbeats
stripping me down to bare nerve
Murdering me with Cashmere
touch that lifted a ceiling curve
a birthright that denied me standing
VERSE II
the air lost a beat near her
piano shuttered its strings
her keratin ruled its hidden kingdoms
where songs outlived clipped-wings
one quick brush of softness
could tilt the atmosphere—
an unquestionable sovereign reign
Murdering me with Cashmere.
PRE-CHORUS II
marrow-sapped, my bones bleached white
and oooh, my will to power grew thin
her presence pressed antique velour
against my browning-paper skin
a blue-litracution mocked my manly core
CHORUS II
Murdering me with Cashmere
negating my defenses
melting my deep fear
Murdering me—only Cashmere
mist that would not recede
a spell that outlasted me
BRIDGE
she stood there—the verdict given
queen without a crown
her secrets a crashing thunder
hinged to pin me down
and I—
climbed, she was higher
and her hemlock closed in—too near
I fell into her ghast-lit shadow
Murdered soft by Cashmere.
FINAL CHORUS
Murdering me with Cashmere
kindness with a strangler’s grip
a calm that finished the work
Murdering me in Cashmere
queen in vestment of highness—
Lady Caledonia Blue— cyanotic.
OUTRO
she brushed across my shoulders
the world skipped a breath to grieve
softness that occluded on my lungs and stayed
refused to let me leave
her after-mint lodged in my vertebral mind
thorn in every flowing tear—
the night she claimed my arrhythmic heartbeat
Murdering me with Cashmere.
Blithe notes of Twilight's symphony alight
Into occluded abyss spindled cords take flight
Duller shades into harmonious bands unite
Grainy film spreads o'er recess a dank, dingy kite
Initiating eve's wake, ethereal blinds shut tight
Midnight's, chilling vigil stills darkened night
Nyx's, silver, pale orb mystical procession doth ignite
Twinkling pallbearers on flanks shoulder the blight
Ghostly-white planets from distant corridors observe rite
Pleiades' sisters' glowing blue embers provide candlelight
On bended knee, Perseus the glib eulogy doth recite
In the somber parlor, Orion with satin bow stalkers doth fight
Tears from Aquarius's drawn bucket salve Night's dreary plight
Mystical beams from Southern Cross emptiness doth requite
I knew what love is from my mom, my first sensation
Before I could grasp its meaning, I sensed that emotion
I enjoyed it in breadth and depth as a babe from my mom
She wiped away my aches with love’s soothing balm
A mother’s love involves sacrifice and pain
It is patient and persistent, never seeking any gain
Come what may, nothing can take it away
This many splendored miracle, shall always stay
Often, like dew drops falling from above
Or the warbling notes flowing out from the grove
Love leaves the heart go upbeat in prosody
Changing every sensation into rhapsody
As beams of silver cast by the moon
Or the cold touch of spray in the horrid heat of noon
It soothes, embalms and thrills the heart
Filling the void and leaving no dearth
Love sublime, sure like a candle lit
Consumes itself, and never dwindles a bit
It dispels the gloom and dissipates the fright
Invigorating the soul and healing every hurt
As brilliance to stars, fragrance to flowers
Music to flute or shade to bowers
Love is to Man, freeing him from all sores
Bestowing him the strength to meet all throes
Love can never be occluded or beguiled
Neither be stifled nor be veiled
Love puts all other things into place
And hems life with a lovely lace
Love is all we seek and too scarce to find
A magic thread by which hearts are bound
Hark! It is love that makes the world spin around,
And cures all the ills that surround
Oh! Love thou virtues I will defend,
Though seasons change and youth doth end!
Lying limp with all my songs unsung
I hope I'll live to love unbound.
August.22.2022
The Meaning of Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Walking this path.
Once populous,
Now desolate
Ambushed!
An unspeakable ambush
Now you're travailing
Just inhaling and exhaling
Breathing!
The precious breath of life
Spiritual bombs are colluded
Progression and motion momentarily occluded
Building a fortress amid blasts
Days and nights of praying and long fasts
Big dreams and peace are being viciously attacked
So to the foxhole, you are forced to go
To and Fro
Head on a swivel
Countering an enemy attack
Feeble
So feeble
So, you ponder
As you wonder
"How did I get here to this fight of my life?"
So much malevolence and deep-seated strife
Big bombs of theft, lies, evil eyes, deceit, hate, competition, gaslighting, gang stalking, ghosting, defamation, gossip, and envy
Raining.....
Storming.......
Just raining down on your parade
Sleepless nights and wet pillows
A dark cloud of weariness and despondency billows
So cold, dark, and alone in this foxhole
Severe demonic attacks on the spirit and soul
Still feeble.....
Bewildered and out of sorts
So, you radio your commander for direction
All around cacophonic bombs still blasting
So much, but you're still praying and fasting
--- PAUSE (take breaths) ---
Then the commander speaks:
"Sit still, my faithful warrior. You are not alone.
Refuge and sweet fruits are here from all the humility,
patience and faith you've sewn."
"I'm bringing you rest, peace, health, strength, light,
clarity, and an abundance of a lifetime.
So remain still, my faithful warrior. This battle is mine."
“I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.”
~Alice Hoffman
The man I love is far away,
does he exist? I cannot say;
perhaps a hope, perhaps a fantasy~
perhaps a fevered dream’s cliche.
If a dream I will stay most happily
beyond the veil in chastity,
the nightmare is the world alluded,
where vaunted knights are garbed in travesty .
The doctors say I am deluded,
that thought processes are occluded
by parabolic stimulations,
and reality has been excluded.
Am I insane to prefer creations
when life is full of corrupt castrations?
The man I love is far away,
can he not see my heart’s pulsations?
Written: January 16, 2024
_______________________________________
Always strive to trust your heart
With everything you do,
Don't be afraid of what others may believe.
Comply with your heart—it speaks best
Always follow your instincts,
And what offers you delight?
Strive to constantly preserve your heart
An outcome of vagueness,
Easily occluded by shadows.
If I could, I would save the whole world
My arms would wrap the globe,
Cease sorrow, grief, and sadness to avert chaos.
To bear a raw life for all
To ease all tears of grief and all anguish,
It would forever be gone.
I'm only a dreamer; I can't even save my heart
but I would embrace the world if I could,
With heartfelt affection for all.
There was a possibility of snow.
I looked out on a chilly white scene,
reflecting that extremes of weather are
matched by extremes of political fronts.
The season hangs its head
under a burden.
Out for a walk with 'Duke', I ducked
under snow-laden branches,
but it was the beast of a snowplough
that threw it at me – down my neck.
Is other traffic struggling
to get to where?
This morning the world feels very different.
We are searching to find where we are
as a big Trump of the white stuff
is flung at us. On the way to the White House
an occluded front is forecast.
So what to put on?
Into the snow white castle only tepid feet bound
Head mirror of quilted bed reflects a glimmering compound
Satin blanket spreads over each frozen mound
A blinding glare from the silted bed doth rebound
With each heavy step mist arises from fluffed goose down
Arching o'er head a crystalline canopy doth crown
The hooded frames as glowing sentinels ballast ground
The woody rails in their icy coat of arms surround
As tempest blows, crackling arms in groaning chorus resound
From portholes beaming, frozen pellets wayfarers confound
Alighting from pillowy perches, Red-shouldered hawks with wings unwound
Strafe the bystanders; with their prickly dander doth hound
A fibrous parapet of occluded, twining roots shields ground
Each truant sole straying from the beaten path will impound
Buried stumps as pulpy landmines on periphery abound
The errant, plodding heel with shocking pain to redound
Pace must quicken in the late afternoon stound
Dusk's chilling tides o'er snowy copse leaves laggards spellbound
As the last rays of light funnel into
the background
Enchanting visions of woodland nymphs mind's eye doth astound
The usual guide posts have become unreadable,
Their stony font occluded as in an ancient riddle;
Glyphs without the Greek.
The road is marked one way, no returning traffic,
Its service islands marked - MRI, CT, CAT - all graphic;
Ultrasound without the music.
People speak in the language of probabilities,
Yes, no ,do not appear in a lexicon of uncertainties;
Welcome to Cancerland.
Cancerland is an archipelago of tests, and immutable
Results, its residents adrift in the intervals and vulnerable;
Runners between bases.
A chemical war zone, Cancerland employs its foremost
Weapons to kill the Invaders, and the Invaded - almost.
"A village destroyed to save it."
There is no exit visa for Cancerland, always the next test,
For surveillance of recurrence in the never ending contest;
Life lived in the intervals.