Long Severely Poems
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Once i made up my mind to find the monster,
causing all the misery in the planet.
So I set out on a journey to save earth and it's inhabits.
I first encountered a scrawny boy with no arms.
"Oh my god, i promise I'll not leave that vile beast without doing any harm"
I said to him while he just replied with a warm smile.
But it wasn't just warm, it was extremely hostile.
It craved revenge but was powerless.
But as usual, that feeble human laughed at all this mess.
Second, i met a woman with a swollen face.
She claimed that an acid attack,
had severely cost her grace.
I concluded, that only that monster could have done this cruelty.
But who on earth gave him the authority to ruin that beauty?
I then ran into a girl near my age.
She was dressed as a bride and was probably attempting to escape.
She saw me and stated, "They're really horrible"
I questioned her, "Was your marriage forcible?"
She chuckled,
"I was just one of the animals who escaped from being beheaded"
"And now loneliness is the only direction where I'm headed"
I really wanted to help her,
but there are some fights that you have to fight alone.
Frankly, nothing has changed and yet only my hunger increased to overthrew tht monster from the throne.
I was running low on food when this weird looking man,
dressed as a woman appeared before me.
He noticed me staring and said,
"Sometimes I just want to flee"
"Why?" I asked as he handed me some food.
"Because no matter what we transgenders are always refused"
"I'm sorry, but i really hope you can one day confide in yourself"
I got up and continued my journey due to the being's help.
And once again i blamed the monster for his sufferings.
But all these people kinda left me wondering.
And that was when I realised...
The monster that i was looking for was there all the time.
Humans are the one who ruined the things everytime.
And the funny thing is that they claim that they side by peace.
But if that is true then why is the misery and misfortune in every street?
Commendable inspection outcome June 13th, 2023
Schwenksville scribe set himself task
re: expresses glad tiding
forthwith for public views
in consonant with figurative
elbow grease did use
yielded nothing but rave reviews
as attested courtesy
eager disbelievers waiting in long queues
could hardly contain myself
regarding said stellar news,
and call English language as mine muse
to communicate pleasant reception
courtesy gentile management
none of whom call themselves Jews
pleasant surprise, when
regional property manager Pam Floreen,
gushed effusively commenting accolades,
exuding positive unsolicited feedback
(such praise forthcoming never experienced
since yours truly and the missus
inhabited one bedroom apartment B44;
July 1st marks sixth anniversary;
here at Highland Manor)
aforementioned feedback imbues
me with giddiness and relief
versus one experience
when Lisa Varley Wacker
(rounded out management team
after getting hired February 1st, 2023)
came down harsh as if her figurative fuse
got lit, cuz she severely
give us a dressing down,
I cannot excuse
inflicting an unpleasant psychic bruise
authoritarian power
I believe she did abuse.
Regular ongoing light maintenance
(cleaning refrigerator, mopping,
sweeping, vacuuming, et cetera) I write
helps tamps down anticipatory anxiety
most frequently decreasing after twilight
when on site management
leave for the day
a quiet state of mind quite
not readily apparent
to any casual observer,
which panic stricken disposition
ofttimes pervaded
dreams of mind at night,
so essentially lingering after effects
of satisfactory inspection
finds me feeling high as a kite
carrying away to ecstasy
a baby boomer of average height
these honest to dog these words
hoop fully as truthful fanciful flight.
I'd say it was late Spring or early Fall in 1954, a quiet time
in American history; and Mr. Eisenhower was The President.
There was a sweet and kind teacher hard at work,
teaching kindergartners how to figure, read, and write.
She's also teaching them fair play and how to do what's right.
No one seems to be interested in picking a fight with The Lord's
Prayer or The Golden Rule. No one is opposed to the reading of The Ten Commandments or The 23rd Psalm being read in public schools. Why,
there's a Bible on her desk. There's a little boy playing with cars and trucks in the big sandbox, and later that evening, I saw him on a stage in a play with several other kids as they were singing, 'twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are'. The next day, he was on the playground having the time of his life swinging high and seesawing. He and all the boys and girls were jumping on and off the merry-go-round and never grew tired of running and playing hide and seek. Every second of play is treasured, recess being so very brief. That old fashioned cowbell rings dutifully every morning, signaling class time. Several hours later, it was lunch time followed by a recess of fun time. I saw little girls 'jumping rope' or playing 'hide and seek' as the little boys busied themselves playing 'marbles', 'softball' or 'pop whip'. Sitruc, the little boy I referred to earlier, attended this little school about two years before it burned down, and he had to be schooled temporarily at a little church in the same little community. He was now in the first grade and loved playing 'pop whip'. As usual, Sitruc was at the end of the line, being held very tightly by an older boy, lest he being airborne, gets thrown across the grassy green campus grounds and get severely injured. Before long, the old cowbell begins to ring and kids start their trot for the afternoon classes.
020821PS
Mirabelle orb ascends,
under clementine and pomegranate skies.
Absent,
in delight of daylight.
Eyes set adrift in dawning daydreams.
Calm heart is an oceanic concerto,
flowing along sapphire tones.
Deep breaths walk upon water,
caressed by Poseidon's piano keys.
Pulsating palpitations beat eloquent echoes,
rousing freely along rhythmical ripples.
Searching for symphonic serenity -
composition of waves, amicably,
pave a path towards destiny.
Hope vibrates like Apollos's lyre and lute strings,
as winds whistle lost tunes from Athena's flute.
Melodies of the silent sea summon torpid tides,
as desire merges in harmony with the harbour -
passionately embracing barren shores.
Aroma of dusk's dew cools in night's velvet sheen,
as sinking sun is submerged into the deep blue sea.
Sprinkling of pearls appear - their reflection
shimmering upon watery midnight blue stillness.
In silent clarity of blackness,
flowing footfalls of fate purify -
awakening mind from its reverie.
The Silent One
6 September 2020
Mirabelle - a plum, also known as mirabelle prune or cherry plum, is a cultivar group of plum trees of the genus Prunus. It is believed that the plum was cultivated from a wild fruit grown in Anatolia.
Poseidon, in ancient Greek religion, god of the sea (and of water generally), earthquakes, and horses.
Apollo has been recognized as a god of archery, music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases, the Sun and light, poetry, and more. His two musical instruments were the lute and the lyre.
Athena was a talented flute player, as she created it, but others ridiculed her when she played due to her cheeks. In disgust, she threw away the flute and said whoever picked it up and played it would be severely punished.
My wife was a magician and she loved to perform magic.
But something happened that was devastating and tragic.
She tried to perform a new trick that was called 'The Burning Box'.
The goal was to escape from a burning container after unlocking two locks.
But she couldn't escape from the box like she thought.
If you're wondering if she survived, sadly she did not.
I should've known that she couldn't do it, I should've known that she would fail.
Her body was burned so severely that she lost her life and her beauty as well.
When she said what she was going to do, I should've put an end to it.
I should've put my foot down but I was ignorant and I really blew it.
I shouldn't have listened to her when she asked me to trust her.
Now I'm a bitter and broken man and life no longer has its luster.
I can't eat or sleep and people have been saying that I look pale.
I let my soulmate do something stupid and now life is pure hell.
(This is a fictional poem)
Severely real, the harsh words
quietly unknown, silently weeps
the flame, the same games
sorrows as one cries
beneath the pain
laying foundations
the hurts in disguises
only not realizes
in the picture
as the view seems so real
not understanding, nor knowing
the real deal
the grief, undercover through a thick cloud
darkness sets in
no light to be found
a silent cry
scene beautiful spoken
the hurt and pain
through sorrows, with called names
whispering pain
fame, gold, richest
extravagant jewels
making up with flowers
as all things renewals
the end result
no more pain
Glory, the light, came.
In 1965, I was enlisted,
To serve in the battle at Vietnam
For ten senseless years, I fought
Until the fall of Saigon
A medic, my trade,
In battle- I'd nurse
All the wounded soldiers...
The war would disperse
One day in the field,
While helping the wounded
I found a Vietnamese woman,
Bloodied, crying...and severely injured
A sever on her forehead
'Bout three inches wide
And a bullet hole puncture
That had torn through her side
She was left for dead,
by those with no vain
No more could I watch
that poor woman in pain
Draped over my back,
I trekked half a mile
Talking other languages
we spoke all the while
Until I got her to a hospital
across the enemy lines
Narrowly missing...
Those enemy mines
Ten days she spent
in the hospitals there
Until they were able to transport her
To a room, of my care
For six long months more
I'd stay with the troops
Bunkered down like chickens
cuddled in coops
But every day, I checked...
On that Vietnamese woman
To see if she was still alive
And to see how she was doing
As days passed by,
We became close in heart
So close, that nothing...
Could separate us apart
That wounded Vietnamese woman
Became part of my life
My sweet Angelina,
Is now my dear wife
Genuine Fecklessness Exemplifies Despondent Creature Because...
Lackluster life lived
as each subsequent day,
a carbon copy
of the one before,
though far from
being clinically depressed, this boar
ring guilt ridden Capitalist decries
mass consumerist paradigm
satiating the whore
rub bull Lady Liberty, where more
disinclination arises, per
crossing upcoming birthdays corridor
January 13th finds
increased repugnance being part
of materialistic culture club
as hellacious tore
char, implied societal behavior
expects blind submission
subjected to glore
re: us lee spouting
hallelujah nauseating your
every five senses to accept
point blank, Nee pay adore
ration, asper goyish gaiety bon jure
blared, foisted, and
lobbed upon every
man, woman, and child of society,
which imposition, this
outlier doth deplore
as an avowed antiestablishmentarian
to thee very core,
of my being, who
experiences continuous ab hoar
rent theoretical strings
of disappointments pour
ring down (like confetti)
from on high, viz directly
linkedin as nonconformist eyesore
from cradle to... when,
me cremated ashes get scattered,
though right now... still technically
alive, at least... I think so
(despite not yet),
being gratefully dead...
nearing three score
years, yet upon
my demise wherefore
welcoming relief against
(feeling like the oddball),
shares his glumness
weighing me down, where
every step an arduous chore
his compunction being open to explore
living off the grid, or
alternatively joining thee dacor
oven intentional community,
cuz he seems severely mismatched,
where vast material consumption,
especially accentuated with
holiday season heavily pitched
to spend every
last red cent, (and beg
borrow, max out on credit, or steal)
to splurge for
expectation to endure
the helter skelter frenetic
Black Friday and Cyber Monday
fire sales kindling
a bonanza galore!
Nonetheless suicidal ideations severely
whipsaw punctuate, lacerate, assassinate
frescoed fiasco failure grimly livingsocial
ah...that dull cutlery eyed with temptation
one painful thrust hemorrhaging, whereby
carpeting permanently stained blood red,
(security deposit forsaken) cremation ought
not outrageously expensive, I subsequently
chickened out imposing eternity of fire and
brimstone self condemnation, denunciation,
excoriation gently tested as serrated knife
made contact against flesh of left arm..., no
strength prevails this Father's Day 2019
beset with gravity of black hole son wracked
fiasco frescoed across psyche adrip with
bajillion pearl jammed tears aghast at blank
tabula rasa with few hashtag marks evincing
feeble effort contrasted with abundant
adventure awaiting eldest daughter agog
at countless opportunities availed since...
her birth, when she exhibited above
average intelligence made bee line high
school International Baccalaureate program
(at Lower Merion) testament, asper flying
colors one keystone linkedin destiny toward
eventual linchpin, viz IVY League University
(handsome financial aid package allotted),
plus exemplary academic job well done, now
finds blessed progeny enroute to west coast
(sharing pricey apartment with emma man hint
beau), whereat this papa overjoyed at bountiful,
delightful, faithful indomitable laudable
achievement starkly aware how bleak and
forlorn hogtied hobbled horrid mine existence
never knowing "seat of spongebob squarepants"
experience analogous to rite of passage gaining
positive result regarding electric kool aid battery
operated litmus test forging steely mettle
comprising organic entity NON GMO, nor gluten
free genetic gifted body, mind, and spirit attaining
inherent maximization allowing, enabling and
providing decades to acquire financial means
to enjoy relative versus countless squandered
prospects yours truly (me) neglected to cultivate
leaving barren an existence not worth trumpeting!
You're Not Welcome Here
When you go to meet your maker, and He says, " How Do You Do?"
Then He says, quite sternly...
"Just...Close Your Mouth...I Know Men Just Like You!"
Whenever you saw a snowflake fall or a twinkle in an eye...
You were being given a chance to become a better guy.
Although, it severely pains me, you never found your way.
And now I must tell you...
Turn Around and Go...the other way.
For you are being punished, for all you have lied to, hurt, used, and taken advantage of.
And most of all for the Innocent that you have blatantly, disregarded.
With horrendous spite and malice, with a smile upon your face.
For they are the True Innocent in the Totality of Life.
Don't think that you can say anything, that I may want to hear.
For I know you far better than anyone could, even more than you think you know yourself.
Your cheating, lying, using, ways are what Banishes you from here.
So turn around and start walking...
Down each and every stair.
And you need to just remember.
Your kind is...
Not Welcomed here...