Long Wilfully Poems
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Mubarak is a case in point. You leave
a man on top too long, he loses track
of what he is, beginning to believe
he's Pericles. Thus white shades into black.
Magruder, Coulson, Mitchell, Liddy, Dean -
they all lined up to help him tell the lies.
The end can never justify the means.
Who put the blinkers on such piercing eyes?
Up to this point, the office stood for Good,
all that could be hopeful in mankind.
But Nixon grinned, as only Nixon could -
a thousand placemen wilfully went blind.
The strangest thing about these law-destroyers,
these wreckers of the State? They were all lawyers.
Food issues bring odd stealth
(not obsessed with broccoli
inexplicable phobia of brussel sprouts)
It's potato chip indulgence
pandemic binge eating
supersedes duty to diet
Label my needs selfish
(after all, self control isn't freedom!)
Existential angst
Potholes of dire health
Craving: Sea salt potato chips
- a tide leaving stretch mark traces
My shadow now Alfred Hitchcock bloated
(abandoning hope of waist line laudable)
Companionship ceded to bulging bags of potato chips
finger tips that weep salt
(I try to brush it off, but succumb:
'JUST LICK IT')
till crumpled bags curl in sighs
Facebook support groups sought ('who else shares my
salted existence?') More sublime than on-line
naughtiness
Conspiracy Theory: junk food sellers wilfully target my email!
You Tube influencers influence, NO - inflame
cravings that boast an 'R' rating
Self Discovery: I can jog and eat salted chips at the same time
Sweat pants absolve my sins, perfect deception
and are dazzlingly stylish
Post pandemic goal: re-locate to the garden
grab an apple
juicy bites
eat indecently
and ignore the snake.
Poem composed: March 6, 2021 (revised May24/21)
Contest entry: Salt
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Hatred is simply a fractious bug on the brain,
which doesn't always wash away with the rain
Neither the rain of love nor that of homily
But if you solemnly profess belief
in the God right above
let this even to atheists be a relief
that God only means love
for no religion preaches hatred to man or family
The wronged wishing to be placated
The tortured wishing to be avenged
Embittered humans provoked to evil hatred,
forgetting we are all but Adam's progeny, one kindred
Alas, hatred's a scenario that so costs humanity
Most of us are tired of hearing
of this cause and effect' circle of violence and repercussion
Why wilfully make yourself a target and fall in lasting perdition?
We don't wanna hear the hate crimes is a virus
that has no earthly cure
Since compassion is a vaccine to
prevent it for sure
Yet some might think this is easy to sing and easy to say
Gosh, but don't the world need
more die-hard supporters of peace till judgement day?
Keep the peace and spread it.!!
Do your bit, come use your wit.
Swat and squash the hate bug from your mind and heart
Promote love and compassion even with words and art
Don't burn the bridges,
rather mend the fences
Don't view each other
with hatred's lenses!
over the garden wall
deconstruction of smaller parts
we're breaking it down once more
with shorter skirts and faster cars
we are filing for divorce
out through the window
to fly or to fall
will we land on our feet
over the garden wall...
moral compass is all askew
it's hard to tell wrong from right
pushing forward we get confused
now don't you cheat on my wife
shake off your slumber
abandon the dream
wilfully wander to
a place I've never been
the time has come to do or die
to give the devil his due
your eyes have died two thousand times
as each one has lived a thousand lives
each one, as each one
each one has lived a thousand lives
I'm not complaining
it's par for the course that's all
there's plenty to see
over the garden wall...
___________________________
I write songs that should also stand alone as poetry.
I hope this inspires courage.
all the best,
Rightly
I want to live and die at the same time,
In this asylum, I am nothing but a dime.
I pray for the grotesque fame,
None, but the Master wants to get me out of playing this game.
In this asylum, I live a lie,
The river Life is nothing but a gridlocked tie.
I want to be alive until I don't want to survive,
This phase is not my only witless dive.
Is this asylum true, or just a gruesome illusion?
I want to bring back my vision.
I don't want to live in this ponderous loneliness,
I don't want to die until I wilfully confess.
This asylum is full of savage desires,
I want to submerge myself in my obligations.
The river doesn't want to join the ocean of dark necessities,
The meander is coming closer to my pertinacity.
True wisdom lies in my shadow,
Until it stays in my favour.
For centuries, I have penned the tales of this asylum,
I am nothing but a mere equilibrium.
Oh God what is wrong with your people
Can you feel it, the pain and the loss
Are we each to be martyred and broken
Our sentence to end on the cross
The world cries in vain, for a leader
You killer, you pervert, you *****
As each tears the other, to pieces
Still they clamber to sit on that chair
There are those that wilfully plunder
The riches they claim, as their right
Though it’s tearing their neighbour, asunder
So what! that’s the way of the fight
Political puppets still pending
On election results, for to see
Who will skin from the hides of the lowly
For their flesh or their lucre to bleed
Keep changing their juxtapositions
One falls and another one rises
From party to party, they party
Securing, political prizes
Policies, policies, policies
Whilst we drown in a whirlpool, of ****
Political correctness abounds
If themselves aren’t the victims of it
How the dead they must roll, in their graves
As daily they’re Joined, by their kin
As political promise piles higher
Eclipsed by the weight of their sins
A country of saints and of scholars
Of singers, of poets and of bards
Condescension and greed, are her virtues
Our fate’s in the twist, of the cards
We wait, with the Wonder of children
A president, let us rejoice
A future of change, in the making
A fool, without even a voice
Break the chains, of the bastards, before you
Can’t you see, we’re all sick of the lies
As suicides mount up, daily
Can’t you hear it, the pain in their cries
A leader who’ll fight for the people
In these times, that are hotter than Hell
Will no-one stand tall, for the feeble
Only history ….. and time, it will tell
“Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.”
Quote by - Vincent Van Gogh
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Well aware of art, seeing star-lit, deep-blue sky
High above the ripples of Rhine
A delicate one chose a brush to bring it down
to a canvas, working with hues
painting stars and man-made yellow jets of city lights
descending to green reflected blaze, reflecting
not stars, but brutal city-lights
Two human figurines stroll love in the foreground
Gogh's sensitive symmetry gave
half the canvas to earth, other half to the sky
Deceptive tastes of fickle world
Failed artistic symmetry, Failed gentle artist
Stealing sky above Gogh's fixed gaze
Mortals took too long a time to appreciate
Starry Night Over the Rhône
Tired Gogh's 37 year old hands
Wilfully shot his sympathetic genial heart
Hands that never quivered even
While painting water, shivered at uncertainty
Rushed to find peace below brown earth
I am praying for an eternal silence,
Your loudest move is just another offence.
I have been open to you for the longest period,
The interpretation you want to pursue is just making you an idiot.
I have never been so close to a clown,
I have never felt so wilfully drowned,
I cannot express the audacity to call you an unthinkable pride,
I cannot have the gratitude to be your undying guide.
I want to lead a life of the fullest norms,
You are just an unknown necessity that I have always seen in silly worms.
You are full of loquacity,
I am nothing to your pertinacity.
You want to judge the desecrated smile of Monalisa,
I want you to draw a similar structure on your countenance.
Everyone might be perplexed,
I don't want you to be suppressed.
You might not be a cenotaph of the transparent authority,
I don't want you to be that bargained mendacity.
I want you to walk through a thousand rivers,
To me, this river Life is nothing but a remarkable caricature.
A needled wail reeks from his dusky face
while gnawing thoughts keep the moon awake,
praying for grace to ebb the lonely tides
that he blesses another empty night for godly luck--
Out there thin arms recoil …in urgent need
a street child who droops low with hunger …grief.
He dream-walks once more, all the more
to become a youngster along playground of fields
at the soonest time in a place called home,
where life is more than crumbs, where laughter glows
through lithesome family scene… and not a plague:
But wishes tear fast like newspaper rags
when midnights play a broken lullaby--
Till daybreak croons new streak of faith
as gauzy eyes yearn life’s reprieve,
believing wilfully in divine bread …
his morsel, his finest tomorrow called home.
Tomorrow Contest of Edward Ibeh
11/21/2018
Why do we?
Why do we watch our brothers and sisters suffer, why do we watch them starve and bleed?
Why do we watch our planet burn, our nature turn to defend what we destroy so intentionally, so wilfully?
Why do we?
Why?
Why do we make our brothers and sisters suffer, why do we develop science to make them scream?
Why do we destroy our nature, why do we make our planet bleed?
Why do we?
What are we?
What is wrong with our species that it won’t learn from its mistakes, won’t learn from its history?
What is love, given to us for one-another, this super power we all own but dictate who’ll receive?
What are we if we aren’t the species of love for all of humanity?
What are we?