Long The ashes Poems
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If I had one wish it would be to go back in time
I would walk right up to Adam and Eve and open up their eyes
I wouldn’t go as the serpent but as an angel in disguise
I’d say unto them “don’t eat the fruit, please try and refrain”
Because if you do, you will bring forth suffering and pain
Women will miscarry and endure the pain of childbirth
The heavens will open up rains and end the earth
However, the earth will be again
Like the Phoenix rising from the ashes
We will all speak one tongue then we will
Be divided into classes
We will all be men of color until one will claim to be the master
When that day comes, there will be legions of disaster
They will reign over the years living off others blood, sweat, and tears
There will be a king and his name will be Martin
He will do everything in his power to stop them
There will be no resolution
Because Martin faced execution
All men of color will be under observation
They will be a majority but still a small part of the nation
Men will suffer within for the rest of their days
Because of fornication and misbehavin’
There will be a plague of AIDS
But my father is a God of mercy and wrath
Adam, please don’t taste the fruit
And this desire too will pass
You have the world in your hands
If you do not choose
You will curse the people and condemn the land
In the end you will lose
So as your guardian angel and guiding light
I only speak the truth
I say to you “please make things right”
“do not I beg, taste of the fruit”
Dusk with Bells of Ice
We leaned our shoulders against a dusk with no edges and no name,
and we're as cold as a mouth filled up with nothing but bells of ice,
what cure could that promised return be, sworn only in dreams, never in flesh,
a river of ash flows backward toward a spring we no longer remember.
Useless to count the ashes, useless to wash the anchor of stars with moon-water,
we braid ourselves into ropes of heavy smoke rising from useless words,
and we bind our temples with wire of melted lead, so the cure won't leak out.
I often wonder who else, besides us, still speaks to the night
through collapsed wells about ships that never actually sank,
who still carries a blind and permanently freezing compass in his pocket,
and who would hide inside an old wardrobe, among moldering coats,
just to scold the wind for the wrong road it showed us last night.
We curl into ourselves like a moth circling its own dying flame,
with feathers of ash growing from our shoulder blades instead of wings,
with little bells sewn over our eyelids, so we can hear the world without watching it burn,
and we dream of the child from the story who counts the stars backward, so time might turn around,
and falls silent, because any word spoken now would shatter the mirror of the night.
You, fox of wax, roll silently before us,
you train yourself in a frozen puddle, bare-legged up to the ankles,
as if we were drifting through a dream with no witnesses, not even a shadow to recognize us,
stay like that a little longer, your forehead in the light, let me watch you slowly burning,
like a candle forgotten on the doorstep, and let the pity rise in me like a tide that no longer knows its shore.
I see in your glaring eyes wide open,
you’ve an inferno of anger burning within.
The tongue splutters words of the vitriolic mind
like the acid rain showering spite.
Your sane senses scorched by the wild fire
turn into ember ashes of malice.
Even then I don’t abandon you
in the simmering cauldron of hatred,
nor do I try to blaze you in return
with the flame of vengeance,
for I know you can’t spew wrath in my soul,
and fire can’t douse another fire.
I inundate you instead in forgiveness,
flowing as the fountain of benevolence.
The spout of affable elements drenches you,
extinguish the fire of disdain.
As you rise from the ashes of composure,
I see you in the shadow of repentance.
I pray to God to give me the strength of mind
and the wisdom of compassionate senses,
to endure the deliberate wrong doing,
so, the spurt of divine forgiveness,
emanating from the fountain of my benign soul,
I can bestow to those pledging sincere penitence.
Let the echoes of our voices speak out loud,
Gather the dreamers and gather the crowd.
We won't back down, we’ll fight for our right,
With courage ignited, we'll shine through the night.
We are the change, we’ll blaze our own path,
With hearts full of courage, feel the aftermath.
From the ashes we rise, like the phoenix in flight,
Together we’ll harness all the power of the light.
With passion ablaze, we’ll break every chain,
Through the storms of doubt, we’ll dance in the rain.
We're a force of nature, all wild and free,
With every heartbeat, we’re strong, you’ll see.
We'll stand together, no matter the choices
With burning hearts, we’ll raise our voices.
Let's raise the tide, it’s a damn wild ride,
But in this fight, we’ll be side by side.
I am not done, no, you’re not done,
We’re building this fire, we’ve just begun.
Finding our tribes, we’re taking a stand,
Raising our vibes, united we’ll band.
We are the change, so do not quit
Let truth be known, in the depths of our grit,
I am the one, you are the one,
Together we'll rise and have some fun.
The Lover's Rendezvous
The wicked sense of a complete lack of control
has always led mankind down roads nobody knows
Until it unfolds
Until the Devil takes hold
Until the bodies get dumped in a hole
and the shrieking grandmothers,
whom you can never console,
clutch the little dead babies to their milkless breasts
So just confess! get it off your chest!
Peace in rest, and its all in jest
Confess! and brush the ashes from your vest
as you taxi your honey to your little lust nest
in laughter, caressed your sweet little Aryan cum-fest
as the grey snow fell, as if straight up from hell
The stench of burning flesh smell
as the guard dogs growled
and the cold wind howled
You traded a God of love
for a black leather glove
and oh yeah, lots of burning in hell
Form:
Through the narrow window of time, I see fleeting shadows of lives that remain unfulfilled,
Men bound to desks like to foreign altars, captive in routine and silence,
Souls enclosed in a shell of paper and numbers, with hearts beating under the cold light's clocks,
Once hunters of dreams and stars, now hunters of signatures and senseless approvals,
Strangers in their own skin, gritting their teeth and facing endless monotony,
Where is the fire that once burned in their chests, melting the chains of conventions and fear?
Now there remains only the echo of a silent scream, lost in the noise of glass and concrete,
In a landscape of dreams extinguished under heavy steps, of hopes melting under the cold light,
It is a dance of despair in two-piece suits, a game of endless shadows,
A futile attempt to tame a storm that no longer comes, that can no longer be felt,
But perhaps, one day, they will break these invisible walls that keep them captive in silence,
And they will rediscover that primordial force, that light unafraid of the darkness within them.
Perhaps then, the old man will rise from the ashes of time, not as a myth, but as a living truth,
He will burn again with an undying flame, daring to be, to burn, to live freely,
With his heart open to the sky, without fears, without chains, only with the desire to be whole,
He will be a song of freedom in the wind, a story told under the endless sky of hope,
And then, in a world that has forgotten its dreams, he will bring light and be a guiding star,
An endless journey to the self, a rebirth of the fire that never ceased to burn.
In the mysterious shadow of the evening, when the sky cradles its dreams in purple,
I walk the path between worlds, a pilgrim of silence.
Loneliness, an abyss of shadows that swallows falling stars,
Is the poverty of the soul, a chasm that absorbs echoes of extinguished desires.
In the broken mirror of the night, I see myself, a shattered rainbow,
Each shard, a window into a cosmos of lost thoughts.
In hidden corners, shadows dance waltzes of forgotten memories,
In other corners, ethereal smiles dissolve into the abyss of a lost dream.
But in the enigmatic heart of the forest of silences, I find a spring of light,
Solitude, the treasure of the self, a celestial nectar of tranquility.
Here, under the mantle of golden leaves and the whispers of the wind,
I rediscover my essence, a sacred fire burning beneath the ashes of past days.
On an old stone, witness to forgotten times, I sit,
Closing my eyes, I let myself be carried by the waves of cosmic thoughts.
In solitude, I hear the ancient song of my heart,
An old and immortal rhythm, penetrating deep into my being.
Silence envelops me like a celestial silk veil, light and warm,
And in this mystical peace, I feel whole, reborn, divine.
Solitude is not loneliness, but a temple of light,
Where the soul meets itself, in the eternal dance of existence.
In this mystical night, under the sky full of living stars,
I learn that loneliness is but a fleeting shadow,
But solitude, the treasure of the self, is a divine gift,
A portal to the infinity of being, where I finally find peace.
China, like the phoenix rising from the ashes, rises from the waters of the Eastern seas and spits unstoppable fire of the red dragon! He does not indulge in conflict but only progress.
Sometimes, called the red dragon, He attracts interest from all corners of the world, enjoying trad intercourse with friends and foes. The Chinese actions are not from arrogance but out of service to its people.
China development is not about speed, ideas, efficiency, or power. It is about knowing his own limitations and celebrating the gifts of others.
The century of humiliations never made China back down. His vision lifted over 800 million people out of poverty in the past 40 years, showing the world that, nothing is impossible.
China is not distracted by the insults and lies coming from different directions. China focus is on progress!
China has created dangerous and sophisticated weapons but has never conquered a single nation outside its borders. That's true power and leadership!
Everywhere China goes, builds and not destroy. China Vision for the World Is Not to Divide but to Unite!
China minding its own business in genuine silence is a sign of humility and respect for others.
China not forcing others to be like them is a mark of true wisdom. You were one of the first to travel around the world, but you never colonised anyone.
Even when they are bullying you, your focus is on progress and meaningful development. your goal is not to rule the world but to unite the world and make it better place for all.
By Chanda Katonga.
The ashes of your ghost still roam within a sea of roses.
Breathing you in, I try to reach through the veils,
yet to no avail.
The bitter emptiness is all I can feel.
The Fates keep taunting, teasing~
in the dead of night, your voice still lingers,
preventing slumber from taking hold.
The ticking of clocks infects my broken psyche,
hallucinations tangle me within what used to be our sheets.
Breathing in your scent, exhaling demons~
without you, the devil whispers.
Temptation takes hold,
fire flows through transforming veins.
Lilith’s fury poisons any humanity that was left.
Levitating from the bed, rebirth is at hand.
Cutting into my chest,
the heart becomes the heartless.
Electricity pulses beneath rippling flesh,
destruction now at my fingertips.
Grief begets hate.
Now watch as the world burns,
as I become my own martyr.
On the grandeur of the sprawling front garden
the Parisian sun rising on the sparkling Seine
casts designed shadow of the bygone centuries,
enshrined in the medieval cathedral, Notre Dame.
She stands witness of many a turning event
of French history and inspired many authors.
A unique icon of French Gothic architecture,
has place of pride in world heritage treasure.
The rows of chandeliers shimmering overhead,
the burst of colors on stained glass rose windows
illuminate the idyllic archway of divine tranquility,
its aura guiding the surrealistic walk to the altar.
The fire that burnt the roof and the oak spire
she will take on her strides like she did before.
Resurrected, she will rise from the ashes anew,
regain her lost splendor and glory once again.
I once marveled at her beauty in the twilight glow
as the golden Seine glided past quietly me and her.
The captivating view lingers on after so many years,
I know she will look the same when I see her again.
May 5, 2019