Long Set upon Poems
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The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".
Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.
Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.
Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe
The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon
Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild
With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather
Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.
Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"
Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.
"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.
Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".
Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"
On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
Kim (one of my BFF) brightened with inspiration, “Oooo! Send him a sexy pic!”
“I’m NOT going to sext a guy out of the BLUE,” I grumbled, indignantly.
Kim turned to her phone, “No, No, of COURSE not.” She said as she texted.
“Come on” she said, as she pulled me off my chair and out the door. We raced over, on foot, to my friend Bili’s house (two houses away). We entered without knocking (as usual) and ran upstairs.
Bili lay on her stomach on her unmade bed, fiddling with her phone, ankles up and crossed but she twisted up to attention when we came in.
“What should we do first?” She said, as if there were a million things to do.
They set upon me and had my regular clothes off in a heartbeat. Like all makeovers, this had a prelapsarian purity - the ritual stripping down to blankness before rebuilding.
They quickly went through about half of Bili’s closet - selecting just the right combination of trashy and classy clothes designed to seduce.
They finally settled on a black slip under an ivory peignoir, stockings with garters and black strappy heels.
Kim twisted my hair up into a loose “Gibson Girl.”
“Hold still,” Bili said, as she grasped my chin and expertly blended red, gold and black glittery eyeshadows followed by lip liner and gloss. “This is just a quickie job,” she reminded me.
I stared at this strange version of myself in the vanity.
Kim frowned and looking around, she spread a pink scarf over the desk light to give the room a rosy glow. They went into studio mode - posing me in various ways from coquettish to bored lounging - suggesting expressions and taking endless pictures with my phone.
Finally, they were satisfied and handed me my phone.
“Shall we go through them?” Bili asked
“Naah,” I said, “I’ll go through ‘em and pick one - or two.”
Later, at home, I looked through them - I looked SO different - and I had to admit - sexy even. But was that ME? I cringed, what if my mom saw these trashy, Kardashian-like photos somewhere?
I never sent them. I thought I’d have to explain it to my girls.
“HA!” They laughed, “We KNEW you’d never use ‘em” Bili said, as Kim shook her head “Nope.”
“It was fun though!” We all agreed.
.
.
.
NOTE: This is a pre-pandemic story from August 2019. I was 15 - the idea wasn’t to seduce this guy, it was to get his interest so he would ask me out . =]
Autumn though of herself as a kind soul,
and she took great pride in her compassion,
she believed things could be made perfect,
and her voting reflected this fashion.
She was to see that the wealth was shared,
and that people were nice in their words,
since so few out there ever recognized
how what they said could offend and disturb.
If folks would only learn some basic tact
then everything would run more smoothly,
and she was so glad to help elect leaders
who would take a strong stand against ‘hate speech.’
One day she saw on social media
a report about a conspiracy man
who liked to breath fire when he spoke his mind,
so the tech giants all had him banned.
But she didn’t think that much about it,
she’d never liked that fellow anyway,
so she shrugged it off as unimportant,
and mindlessly went about her day.
A month later she saw some new footage
of men’s right activists under attack,
for trying to change the family courts
they were set upon by hoodlums in black.
But Autumn did not care much for their cause,
opposing women was beyond the pale,
why listen to fools who had never been told
that the future ‘belonged to females?’
A year after that a church made the news
when it refused to marry two men,
the pastor tried to explain his reasons,
but ‘Anti-fascists’ just threw rocks at him.
Autumn just shook her head at the scene,
had not the pastor heard of the new laws?
Who was he to claim that he knew the truth?
To exclude folks on the word of his ‘God?’
Three months later, in campaign season,
a brash man roused the crowds with his rants,
said all sorts of things she found horrible,
it was really getting out of hand.
And when the networks block out all his ads,
and refused to cover his rallies,
Autumn felt that peace had been restored,
there were ‘standards’ to democracy.
Then a year later a new judge declared
that ‘hateful words’ were not protected,
Autumn was glad, progress would be made!
She eagerly waited for what lay ahead…
Over the next two years many people
ran afoul of this new ‘moral code,’
it started with fines, then came prison time,
hundreds, then thousands, to the jails did go.
Autumn started to feel a bit uneasy
at all the chaos that it had caused,
but every change came with some trial,
and those people had broken the laws...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
1.
This is Truth that to you, mortals is now speaking,
I’m the one that in the kernel of everything that exists resides,*
That no human has ever seen**, up to this very moment and
No one, I affirm will able be, eyes to set upon my
Divine essence!***
2.
I know, the vast majority of you believe to be with me, very
Well acquainted,
Some even declare that the best of my friends are and
Instead of me, they could do the talking
Even there are those who boast to be my associates and
The ultimate reality only them to know
Thus
Each one of them “his truth” declares according to his doctrine,
Fervently maintaining the veracity of his established principles,
The principles of his policy, his history, his religion, his morals
That with me, the Truth, I assure you, have very little in common.
3.
So, I the Truth, with many faces came to you be known
As different colors are always used to paint my visage,
Colors with hues of their opinions to better fit their purpose
According to the era they are living in, their reason and
Understanding
4.
If a day, I the Truth, among them decided just a walk take
Certain am I that no one of them, would able be, me to recognize
For the bigotry that is deep in their uninformed heart planted
Unable has made their eyes the supreme Truth to identify
5.
Enraged am I, of all those criminals who kill in my name,
Regardless of their color, creed, sex, ethnicity,
For even if a little bit they knew me, never would they
Commit a crime
For
I, the Truth next to God live. It’s from Him I draw my existence,
Impossible thus for me it is, divinity’s will to disobey
And commend someone to do something that is immoral
Because God is love*** and love, you should know my friends,
Never commits a crime!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
07 OCTOBER 2014
* There is nothing that we with certainty know because the truth is found in the depths of each thing!
Democritus, Greek philosopher, 5th century B.C., the father of the atomic theory
**No man has ever perceived the truth, neither anyone in the future will know it but only opinions of things we will have for the reality of things!
Xenophanes, Greek philosopher 6th century B.C.
***John, epist. First, verse 8. “He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love!
Autumn foliage clings to the earth as another spring lays dying.
She walks there among the rustle of my thoughts. The ever-present
sound of her steps upsetting nature in its serenity only long
enough to remind that she, like the fall, is a thing of natural beauty.
I'd paint her in my mind if I possessed the brush: Yet, I lack in
conviction when set to wonder if I could carry the memory to canvas.
I watch her as she looks up and offers a shameless smile,
loving the appraisal of my gaze. The moment exists for us alone.
To accent the point; her hair is drawn behind her ear with the delicate
brush of fingers, exposing her divine countenance. She walks with slow
purpose causing the sway of her hips to become quite appealing to my
eyes. She was always a creature of such reform, a wisp of finesse.
Her lip captured between her teeth, she worries it gently with her
thoughts. Slowly pacing the grounds as she seeks a way to buy back
the while. A moment in a lifetime of moments. Her laugh, so endearing
to me, clutches at a heart that was wild until the day it set upon her.
I'm captivated in the pooling oceans of her eyes. She said something
then. I know she addresses me and yet the words fall short in my absence
of rational thought. I'd kiss her, I know she wouldn't prevent me.
It is a gift for the taking and so misplaced on a soul quite undeserving.
I'd kiss her but then be drowned in the torment of wanting for more than
she could offer. Another day, another week, or month, or.... or years.
But I am off now to the coast, to port. She is off in my memories. An illusion
of a misplaced past that could have been more than a fleeting moment.
I stare now at the fields from my carriage with the turning of another
autumn. I'm reminded of the place they lay her to rest. A winter chill
having claimed her in all her elegance. I can't help but wonder if it
were a heart turned cold and broken instead.
But never slip by the words so vivid in her voice, so haunting in my dreams,
"I love you, forever and always." In moments that are destined never to
arrive, she waits. I left her waiting forever... I left her waiting for always.
~Wrote for a character of a book I was working on~
I want to be in love with you again.
He searches for purpose, he begs for reason. He does so in a hectic manner, with no ease to the tension in his search. The answer sits clearly above. While he furiously pokes and prods amongst grains and chunks of rock and dirt. Allowing the weight of himself to dig his knees in deeper, creating impressions of each distinctive pebble.
I want to see you smile again.
He has become intolerant at this point in time. With lungs fully depressed, he pushes deeper down into the soot. The hysteria and claustrophobia sends the man into a panic. He no longer recognizes himself, or those who define him.
I want you to feel beautiful again.
Exasperated, the man finds the tips of each finger to be numb. The blood is slow to reach the surface; much like his level of comprehension. The man can no longer acclimate; the inability to adapt to the rush around him spirals his good intentions into a void. Ignorance has exhumed the entirety of his perception.
I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
An absence of light; his consciousness is bleak, a figment of a once good man. The hand-dug hole set upon the cadaver of the man; whom tirelessly trenched until fingers split, served as a bed to the broken figure. With what dirt lay around, had been pushed in by whom had stood over the man in his final failure.
I don't ever want to see you cry for me.
A mound is all that's left. A woman dressed in tears; stood by, long before the man had died. Suffice to say, gave reason for him to dig. If ever she had stopped him, would only incite the man to dig deeper. Harrowing, his tale of being unable to love in return.
I don't want you to be alone.
The man's existence seemed futile. Nevertheless, he carries on a legacy unknown to himself. Much more to her than a child. Through his incessant pain, she realizes her own strength. And from the death of such colossal pain, grows life. A flower perched upon the mound. A metamorphosis from an inkling of negative, to a plethora of beauty.
I want you to be happy for yourself.
Like the child never to be had, she is unable to conceive the remnants of his past. The overwhelming nature of freedom is personified through his death.
I remember as a little girl
On a visit to an aunt’s friends house
I was sitting reading a story book
As quiet as a mouse
I asked to be pardoned
To go to the loo
They were all playing dominoes
So I knew what I must do
I opened up the door
And placed my foot on the first stair
Then I heard someone in a low voice say
“Are you sure that she's all there”?
I felt a tear run down my cheek
I was doing what I ought
Only speaking when I was spoken to
That's what I was taught
When I’d done what I had to do
I went back down the stairs
The domino game was finished
And there were four empty chairs
They were all in the kitchen
Drinking cups of tea
My aunt she turned to me and smiled
And handed a cup to me
She noticed my tear-stained face
And stroked it with her hand
I told her what I’d overheard
She said I was too young to understand
I was insecure throughout my childhood
Never felt like I fitted in
Undernourished because I wouldn't eat
Now I’d just be classed as thin
From the age of five
My time at school was fleeting
Feigning illness to avoid the bullies
And escape another beating
I remember cowering
In the corner of the school yard
Cigarette butts stubbed out on my arms
Left painful, sore and charred
Name-calling and violence
Made me feel inferior
Set upon by bullies
Who thought they were superior
When I became a teenager
Things they got much worse
The bullies were now older
Younger ones they would coerce
To taunt me and lie in wait
And leave me in a battered state
When i got my first job
The bullying it went on
Because my face didn't fit
I was put upon
Got lumbered with the dirty jobs
That no-one else would do
Like swilling down the filthy yard
And scrubbing the outside loo
One afternoon, the manageress
Secretly asked me whether
I would do sexual favours for a delivery man
And I reached the end of my tether
I got my coat and quit the job
Never looking back
I later heard that the manageress
Was found out and got the sack
Now that I am older
No-ones victim will I be
I stand my ground, nobody’s fool
And i am happy being me
By Sashi. Prabhu(zeauoxian) 1/3/2012.
Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared.
From the vertical column sans a crown of leaves of rotted dead wood,
Once, which was in its own right a magnificent coconut tree where it stood.
Freshness, splendor, Vitality and flexibility of a live tree all depleted and gone,
T’was a pertinent choice for the woodpecker mates to build a home foregone.
Abundantly birdies flock, Pigeons, robins, mynahs, hornbills, cranes and parrots,
On the evergreen nearby tamarind tree, but the woodpeckers my eyes ferrets.
From that eventful day my eyes they set upon,
Their wood pecking bills would on the bark sculpt and impinge on.
A homely hole to drill,
Their head moving rhythmically and looks like a cap with red frill.
Twenty five days back they first arrived I lucidly recollect,
Ten days, a pair of hatched altricial chicks, mates from adversaries’ have to protect.
One morn had me glancing to the oval cavital hole on the bark,
And feasted my eyes on feeding chicks being readied, their lives to embark.
Blissful and content , I recollect now I sat a bit longer to observe and discern,
Glorious hues, auger bill, cap with red frills, of the peckers as they take their unambiguous turns.
To zip across like beige, buttery yellow plumaged darts across the lush foliage all green,
Within, watchable bounds to fetch, insects, worms and saps as nutriment routine.
The chicks I saw they peek out of the shielded barky holes with awe,
Strength it seems to me have filled their wings bill and sharpened claw.
Now I wonder if I can listen to the joyous feminine “chrr”
and the shrill masculine “kwirr”.
As the young chick in the hole frolicking, giving it a try to fly,
Away in the wide world after saying a good bye onto the sky very high…………
Now the mates without emotions, kerfuffle and ado,
To each other, their home and their prying neighbour me have bid “adieu”.
Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared
Line of inquiry:
“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as she viewed
scent of love did not exude”
~ Unseeking Seeker
******************
Are we perceived as hostile beings
by flora that we tend in our gardens?
If we intimidate petals of peonies
each time we walk past their stems,
we should make amends and ask for pardon.
Is the pink tint of their blush mistrust of us?
Withering zinnias and wilting wisteria!
We wouldn't want to burden them with fear
when we speak of how lovely they'd look
in a crystal vase, set upon our parlor mantle.
To ease their worry and not cause their tears,
in our pockets, we don't carry pruning shears.
We personify flowers as if they have feelings—
but do our innuendos have that effect on people?
We label shy ones as loners or 'wall flowers'
who pull back, often going unnoticed for hours.
Do some of us unintentionally cause that reaction?
If this proves true, we need to take a moment
to have in depth contemplative consciousness,
a change in our stance and make an atonement
if it's determined we're at fault— guilty.
If so, our aura indeed has need of correction.
One that shows us emanating a kinder reflection.
The one who wilted as we passed by—
was she the shrinking Violet we refused to see?
Would we bring her heart joy if we paused
and spoke to her with a gentle greeting?
Words that would give the fragile one cause
to not think of us as hostile and vile?
If a kind word is spoken with a sincere smile
wouldn't those greetings be worthwhile?
It's plausible that we'd then have a pleasant scent,
the treacly aroma of consideration and love.
Time taken to say, 'hello' would've been well spent.
Hold out a hand as a metaphorical invitation to dance.
It might give a wallflower the confidence and the chance
to stand tall and no longer cringe at being approached.
If we've been at fault for diminishing the smile in souls,
offer them emotional strength. Be someone who consoles.
Like my heart might not beat
Without Him there to steer me
Toward the good and lovely things
The joy and hope, the beautiful light
Surrounding me with inspiration
Peace that leaves me completely at ease
The warmth of a place where I will be
Accepted by a Savior who listens to me
Like my soul could possibly glow
Any brighter than it does when Jesus
Sends His light through my temperament
Strengthening my thoughts, my mind
With wisdom that I might not find
Without His love, His wonderful hope
Pouring out across the miracle
Of a life meant to give back to Him
All the gratitude and praise I can give
Like my spirit sings of grace everlasting
There comes the promise of a light
In hues of kindness, gentleness and faith
Feelings so alive they silence all the pain
Whisper through my life in a breathless
Smile, an insight into love that only God above
Could inspire in my soul, set upon my dreams
Filling me with praise that lives to bring Him
Devotion, adoration and pure, tender worship
To silence every worry or doubt
With the joy of belief that never clouds
Out the wonder of His Almighty Grace
The feelings that make me believe
He is the answer to my every prayer
Like love has been rained down across my thoughts
In a brilliant calm who simply believes
There is music alive, dancing on the inside
Of the heart and soul who know that His light
Shines bright across the life of those who listen
To the presence of His love, His grace, His hope
The overflowing splendor of a God who knows
Everything about me, the happy and sad
The good and the bad – the best and the worst
And still loves me like I’m His first child
His cherished smile – the apple of His eye
He is alive – here on the inside
Where I know that His light
Will brighten the darkest gloom
Filling me with a love and joy
That is His gift to those He knows
Love Him from the depths or their soul
Where they know Him as the love
Who frees them from the pain and sorrow
Giving them the greatest gift of all
The gift of a Savior who will amaze
With His overflowing love, soothing
Every ache, every mistake with His grace!