Long Pile up Poems
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filth collects in the round corners,
sticky as a bad memory,
the floorboards groan like they're tired
of holding me up.
roaches scatter like thoughts I can’t catch,
minds have gone mad—
the neighbors scream through paper-thin walls
about things no one should hear.
their bottles pile up like broken promises,
my own reflection, greasy in the cracked mirror,
eyes hollow, lost
in the haze of another night too long.
my only excape is deep sleep and dreams I can't run from.
the world shrinks around me,
each breath a heavier load,
like there’s no air,
only walls closing in,
and like me you know theirs no way out.
This state!
It’s different from before.
Like my life has gone through some weird, internal war!
Age making body say no, no-way!
Mind raring to go on and play.
This state.
Age has caught me up.
Body before seemed never to give up.
Now something fixes and then something else breaks!
Seems to be the state of living in this state.
This state.
Accepting that I can’t fall out the tree.
A graze, bruise cut or tear takes so much longer to heal.
Caution where dare used to be!
This state.
Years pile up like heavy sacks on my back.
Can’t eat, can’t drink anything that I used to down without any slack.
Teeth want to fall out of my head!
Hair starts growing in my nose, losing its way from growing on my head!
This state!
A warm fire and a comfy chair.
Appreciating where before I never seemed to care.
Enjoying simple things like a cup of tea.
Just confirms that I’m older than I thought I’d ever be!
Should we call him a man
A demon or a pervert.?
Should we pull out our detectors
For predator alert.
A MAN without sagacity
impaired from his salacity
Creating insanity, a threat to
earth and humanity
Has the audacity,
To pile up children to capacity.
Creating more insanity,
a threat to earth and humanity
Has the audacity to be smiling,
while piling up children.
Baby’s Snatched
From mommy’s arms
crying for their daddy’s.
Children stuffed in crates
All due to hate.
Now in jails filled to
Overcapacity.
What do good people do?
Do we only Watch?
And do nothing
As Salacious
Contaminates thrones
While sitting in
The seat of dignity.
Threatens integrity.
Can we at least Chant;
” God save our Morality”!
Can we at least Chant;
“God save our children”!
One day, watching a reddened evening sky
over the western horizon, it’s peculiar though,
a thought that is so preposterous suddenly came to my mind
and that was the earth is not revolving. Is it because the world was
too quiet? Or the world was too chaotic.
Once this absurd thought ran through my mind,
neither of those great names, Copernicus nor Galileo
bore weight on me and their heliocentric theory faded away
as well.
The papal absolution bestowed on Galileo after four century’s
long years of silence, to me, was not only the meaningless gesture of
such an arrogant God’s institution but was the subversion of God’s majestic power or it means that God was ousted from his throne and became subservient to his own creature, man.
After all, it can be said that then,
it was not because the earth revolved on its own axis, time flowed,
or the earth orbited the sun, seasons changed. But because I think
time flows, the time flows. I feel seasons change, the seasons change.
For my wildest notion came to this far I felt uneasy inside. I wanted to hear sound of passing clouds, I was keen on seeing winds pile up under my feet, in this utter stand-still-soundless world.
That is why I thought I should spin earth with all my strength,
though I was weak and flabby. I pushed earth leaning myself
against air, I pulled it, I tried to carry it on my back, but, alas, earth did not move.
I was, therefore, all run down, and that’s why I laid on the ground
staring at the sky and grumbled just like that cowardly Galileo muttered
while exiting from a sacred and inviolable court of the Inquisition after his recantation, “E pur si mouve”—[But it does not move!]
As I grumbled, I heard the sound of drifting clouds,
I saw flowing water resting on the corolla becoming clear dew,
I was stepping on the pile of fallen leaves blown by the passing winds. And even, before I was aware of them, I noticed that stars were twinkling in the darkening sky high above.
Sleep and wake; the tide of routine
Fall and Arise; the cycle of life
These are divine, beyond being smart
That's even when you have to restart
Possibly, God is definitely in between
Which by heart makes energy so rife
I am trying
I keep moving
I need You Daddy
Be my Guardian Angel
When I am down to earth
Lord, fight fight fight
It is never so easy to give in
Father, fight fight fight
For me at the expense of Your breath
Yes, fight fight fight
To give Breath so cheap into the claim of my sin
Still, You fight fight fight
Birth and death are human plight
A life is lit and it burns really short
Man don't flip the flops of time
Which is not running often to its prime
Flames of its burn shine dim or bright like sort
Many can't help deny their own bright light
Turn off sighing
Turn on approving
Let me dwell in Thy caddy
Save me from the first archangel
When I am down to earth
Lord, fight fight fight
It is never so easy to give in
Father, fight fight fight
For me at the expense of Your breath
Yes, fight fight fight
To give Breath so cheap into the claim of my sin
Still, You fight fight fight
I can't face this beautiful madness all alone
Troubles are usual suspects trying our best
Sorrows pile up with the tough times in few
Tomorrow yet not guarantee of giving something new
Fate is to every crazy or gentle soul unknown
Yet, by luck or chance, no one dares put trying to rest
I am decrying
I keep disapproving
I need Your audience
Be my conveyance
When I am down to earth
Lord, fight fight fight
It is never so easy to give in
Father, fight fight fight
For me at the expense of Your breath
Yes, fight fight fight
To give Breath so cheap into the claim of my sin
Still, You fight fight fight
Someone said that if you roam over mountains and plains,
and come to the end of the plain where it meets the sky,
and walk along the riverside where the plain and sky
merge into one another, you’ll find a sea at last.
And he continued to say that if you pick the sunlight
scattering around here and there and put them
in the knapsack you carry,
and carry the clouds that drifting high above
on atop of your knapsack, may rain fall and wind would rise.
And when you move your steps after putting up
at a marsh for a while, on the way to the sun setting horizon,
and when the sunlight falls to the ground one by one,
and clouds fall to the ground piece by piece,
they would pile up as the fallen leaves
under the feet of a lonely wanderer.
And, finally, he says that,
after you have written all the stories you know
on the leaves which are the fallen sunlight and clouds
you picked and gathered from the ground, and send them
to the ones you, once were acquainted with at dusk, winter would come hiding her face behind a white veil. Spring would come shivering in the chilling air as a white flower by the lonely tombstone.
Is that why I am walking toward somewhere?
Is that why I am alone standing here like this?
Think twice first
Before you buy something;
Do you really need it?
Or would you only like it having?
Never must one be envious,
Competing against another;
Budget hard-earned income,
To grow, thrive and prosper.
Never become shopaholic,
Be a wise spender instead;
Having no ways and means,
Control what's in your head.
There is no easy money,
Never become luxurious;
Gold rings and bracelets
Pile up loans so serious.
Learn to be content,
Long not for too much riches;
Look for enough assets
To have no liabilities.
Make the right decisions,
Instead of the wrong turn;
Save cents for the future,
Live less than you earn.
Hell is now totally empty,
Since Satan relocated to your heart;
His angels in you are plenty —
Our once-blossoming love they've torn apart.
His voice in you speaks violence,
Courting hatred and spite instead of love;
Abhorrent of our quietness,
So peace and happiness it strives to shove.
My presence now stinks like the trash,
Your words burn fierce like tongues forged in hell fire,
They scorch with vigour in a flash,
While you pile up your venoms, never tire.
Satan crawls like a snake in you,
He controls your temper and stains your tongue;
though you're blind to what I go through,
Still, I will love you till breath leaves my lungs.
You have been living a double life masquerading with two wives; you have been living a double life with man and woman as your wife.
You have not expressed this in public but everyone can see it in your eyes and watch it trembling on your lips. They say that action speaks louder than words and you must always remember this anywhere you go. The ceiling is above your head, and the rocket will launch exactly from your bed.
This town is like a crown and the vibration can be felt all around, from the petrol station to the hardware shop you cannot resist the irony when you go out to shop. This is the best of television I have ever seen for everyone that is embracing this literary dream, it is amusing, it’s confusing but it is entertaining.
Go to the top of the roof and look all around you; everyone is going somewhere but they are not actually going anywhere. Look at their faces and read deep beneath the lines and you will see the age long sacrifice.
Their stories are buried beneath their tongue and the truth is burning their gums.
The big trucks are rolling down the road with goods pile up on top; they are carrying a heavy load, and they are going where destiny is bound. The cars are rolling slowly behind them and everything seemed to be on schedule, good planning and organizing will get you on track just in time to experience the new wonders that have embraced this town.
The demagogues are running around the town with a familiar argument that is out of touch with the general public and a venomous pitch that is dripping from their lips. The music is not quite in tune with the happening that will preside at noon. You have to search out the contrary strings and re-arrange the demagogues before they sing.
You have been living a double life and making me pay for all those sacrifice, clips on wings, buttons and belts and colorful flags hoisted in the air ushering a passionate atmosphere far and near.
It is stirring up the heat and disrupting my heart beat, but it keeps my emotional friend in tune. I have fought hard and long to maintain my song, the cup is full but I must keep riding on.
Ground edges the rim of her lipstick stained coffee mug.
Sharp eclipsed moons shine upon endless day's everlasting nights'.
Butterfly eye bandages uphold bloodshot remembers that these days of our lives; are—Weeding out the faint promise, it was all a dream.
Lists written on used paper napkins, crochet into sculptures that symbolize finite past.
Balancing by tipping toes, stretched out arms teeter, a tad bit, toward edging out grounds; becoming taller.
Grass clippings flying through the sky sticking to his back; no shoes no shirt, top down, no sweat . . .
That same green grass edged the rim of her lipstick stained coffee mug.
Shots pile up higher and higher until mugs file lines up drunk enough to take mugshots.
On the brink of ground edgings, panic finds manic eating their Disco Biscuits.
Freak out!
I mean it freak. Come out or I'll...
Freak out!
Surrounded by ground edges that terminate somewhere within light speed and dark area; an obviously gray matter.
Time travels at life speed and life travels with your perception of such time becoming understood to become such as speed.
Time speed
Hovers
Around
Ground edges (and)
Life
That about sums itself up these days.
That being rested faceless upon their lipstick stained mugshots.
8/19/17 and 8-29-17
(First write in months and beyond times awaited)
*Intended to be
Submitted for contest: Ground Edges
And inspired by
Sponsor: John Lawless
*Did not submit into contest but giving its credit due...