Long Poignance Poems

I wait with bated breath for... C. Cure T. Clarence

The following crafted 
approximately midway 
into the administration 
of forty fifth president,
whose crass, gutsy, lewd,
repulsive yawping finds
him squarely poised to
nab the nomination as
Republican front runner
come the...

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Scribal notions these, and oh so sorrowful,
But, despite their seeming poignance they are not additionally puissant, no. 
I have seem them, wrapped in warmed and moist leaves:
No, not the leaves as pages of books, as...

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(based on Indian wedding system)

Once i known a girl who used to walk with glee
Now i suddenly remembered that how was she
Elegance perfection reflects her face
Now i interrogates that everything was wrong with her new...

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A life that you own yourself not
Of brutality and torture 
Of head and heart work
Of hunger and thunder
A life bitter than bitterness.
#HABAR

OFFSPRING of love divine, Humanity!
To who, his eldest born, th'Eternal gave
Dominion o'er the heart;...

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subsequently splashed by
     LXXII spittle aged
     perspiring ogre) with exuberance
(like some voodoo freelance
sing hexed indigo gurl goo goo doll,
a villainous venal mummified
     rattle...

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There is an old bottle 
in New York
with a rolled up letter 
and a rotting cork

That rested in peace 
on a bedside table
near a gray wrinkled lady 
--quite unable-- 

To wash his words 
from her...

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Shower Thee!Thy wealth,
to the greens that are black,
illuminating them,
heralding rejoice amidst dark.

Oh!rotund illusion,
how can I limn thy brilliance
through pen,for it
may disgrace Thy charm.

Maidens wake to sip the 
sweetness of Thy milky nectar,
their eyes, fixed on...

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Rays of sunshine of a thousand suns fill up my heart and lungs 
Polaroids arent the only things i have lost 
Wars arent the only things i have won
filters on my tongue and screen blur...

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Mist loiters with poignance
 Enchanting... near silence
 With distant jubilance, beloved wood pigeon
 Praise calls Dawn
 Invites her welcoming gaze
 She adorns chiffon and lace
 Sheer elegance enters
 Eyes praise her dew drop smile
 She...

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John McCrae wrote a poem in 1915,
Called In Flanders Fields about his dead friend Alexis Helmer, 
On May the third, after he had presided over his funeral,
Where graves spattered about the poppy field so beautiful...

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Another defeat befalls her day,
finding herself in that poignance dismay,
leaving that yearning minds once again,
grazing by thorns, along that bloody lane.

Dashing hopes, he always grants her,
with her yelling hurt, yet she pleases her dear,
eyes pretending,...

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