Tornado is an enraged volatile angry woman
Joplin never saw her coming; until she was upon them
Her path was a mile wide and twenty miles long
Was she seeking revenge? Angry with all humans?
We will never know, but she did unbelievable damage.
Joplin, Missouri lost many lives that day.
Four thousand homes were destroyed.
I cannot fathom the horror of the aftermath.
One of their hospitals was annihilated
Tornado is an enraged volatile angry woman.
She comes in fast and hard, and she maims and kills.
A warrior, destroyer, slayer.
Bogeyman, Bogeyman you come again
My night of hope screams for crumbs to eat,
I’m just a boy needing a few coins
Offering old tin cup to rich men on the lane.
Cold my body wrapped like soiled paper, trash
Echoing my plea for mercy or grace
Yet, I’m bypassed like a rag, a nameless tag.
While you laugh at my dingy fate, mocking
A young life’s poverty… I bellow of angst
Instead of helping me learn in school,
Your trace of arrogance maims my bones,
Do you know how hard it is to sleep in the rain?
Bogeyman. Bogeyman… one day, you just might
Take my place, and hear not the echo
Of kindness reverberating from heaven's call.
Gaza is a burning house,no end in sight.
Diplomacy is a water moccasin .
Israel maims their victims- a horrid plight
Bitter is a rank lime ,this war a no-win.
The Nerthus folk shout Gaza is not right.
Benji's far right politics surely a stinking sin,
Stop the maelstrom Now !Give peace as an olive branch
Benji's war talk to Congress -he is such a liar.
Biden sends troops to Isreal to fight.
AntiDems and the 'cons both conspire.
Risk is a slick road- its American might.
Palestines anger is a raging fire.
No Gaza cease fire that is in sight .
Judgement is Lady Liberty-comes for all
The guilty combatants finally will fall
Stop the maelstrom Now !Give peace as an olive branch
I spread the news using X and Substack.
I am just one man. I do the best I can.
I spread the news using Tribal too .
All of Humanity could stop this fire.
Either all live as one State with equal rights.
or as two States equal else perish together.
Stop the maelstrom Now !Give peace as an olive branch
Dark mischievous bedroom eyes
Are laden with lust and laden with lies.
They slowly cause my pulse to rise
And always do me hypnotize.
They exude passion’s lusty flame,
The flame that sears, the flame that maims,
While masking their sinful secretive lies,
Behind a seductive sexual prize.
Should I stay, or should I leave?
I muse while my heart rides on my sleeve.
Such eyes have caused the death of innocence.
And, as for love, they have no relevance.
So, I back away from those sinful eyes,
So laden with lust, so laden with lies,
Because bedroom eyes are pools too deep,
And always do dark secrets keep.
My dearest child, please hear
You are still underage
The world you do not fear
Its strength you cannot gauge
If fixed to go away
Don’t bring on dreadful shame
That will make it certain
Ever stamped on your name
Life demands a hard climb
As building often does
Can take a long, long time
To overcome what was
Beware of what inflames
That injures, wounds, and maims
Don’t misuse and defame
That precious gift, your name
I will always love you
And listen for your knock
Know the door you left through
Will always be unlocked
a storyline:
...a bad chapter
here and there
a miraculous escape
a capture unexpected
a wound that festers
a love walks away
an accident maims
a soul starves
so such we be...
‘a-flyin’ an' ‘a-cryin’
an' all the while
the dead dance
circling
negotiating your value
gossiping chanting
should you be there
where you be?
or here...
come to be
where we be?
a bad chapter
here and there
a miraculous escape
a capture unexpected
a wound that festers
a love walks away
an accident maims
all and the all
be ‘a-flyin’ and ‘a-cryin’
a lot...
and all the while
the dead dance and dance,
circling
negotiating your value,
gossiping and chanting,
should you be there
where you be?
or here...
come to be
with us?
In hidden trails, away from the noise's claim,
Where tranquil whispers weave the tale of peace,
The path winds through the woods without a cease,
Amidst the solitude, a silent frame.
Here, splashing birds and water, nature's game,
Compose a symphony that doesn't cease,
Their melody, a soothing soft release,
A sacred verse that no discordance maims.
The rustling leaves, a chorus in the breeze,
Reveal the secrets of this hallowed ground,
Where serenity reigns and worries cease,
A sanctuary where pure joys are found.
These trails reveal a world so pure, so true,
Where hidden nature sings its song for you.
in the hidden trails
wind whispers serenade peace
solitude.. silence
splashing birds and water.. rustling leaves.. sing a soothing soft song for you
In hidden trails, away from the noise's claim,
Where tranquil whispers weave the tale of peace,
The path winds through the woods without a cease,
Amidst the solitude, a silent frame.
Here, splashing birds and water, nature's game,
Compose a symphony that doesn't cease,
Their melody, a soothing soft release,
A sacred verse that no discordance maims.
The rustling leaves, a chorus in the breeze,
Reveal the secrets of this hallowed ground,
Where serenity reigns and worries cease,
A sanctuary where pure joys are found.
These trails reveal a world so pure, so true,
Where hidden nature sings its song for you.
A bum rap the disheveled prisoner claims
Clamoring about in his padded cell
Unable to recall the women he maims,
He made their lives a living hell.
Lumbering about like a trapped animal
Rattling the bars, he shouts for a hearing
Nothing about him seems remotely rational
Not even the size of his earlobe piercing.
One might label him a piece of trash
Still, I think, every human has some worth
It’s so easy, in disgust, to strike out and bash,
But this man is some mother’s child at birth.
No doubt, she still loves him as mothers do
Unable to save him from his demon self,
She would caress him with a love so true,
Trying her best to see the best of him through
Another inexplicable betrayal of common sense
And failure to take any responsibility,
Compelling the situation toward a recompense
Although it will likely not alter his sensibility.
Written November 16, 2022
One damaged cell can divide until it kills.
For in the end we pay the rich man’s bills.
The air polluted ravages and maims
Now it’s cruelly late to curse and blame
Oh sister how we played with our dolls’ prams
In our industrial town there were no lambs.
No sheep could safely graze in smokey streets.
No lark would rise amazed, the dawn to greet.
For you my sister breathed in that bad air
We hear the tread, the foot steps on the stair.
So patient stil, I wish that you would shout.
From your eye I see one tear fall out.
My single sister I can see your pain
Your lips are dry you cough and cough again.
Your mouth is hurting so you cannot eat.
And on the telephone you barely speak
In the world some million others groan
Yes we’re fragile merely flesh and bone
Even so the tears run in my sleep.
Into my face these tears will slowly seep.
I didn’t grasp at first that she would die
And leave me here alone to curse and cry
Hold me in your arms my kindly friends.
From your touch a little peace descends
Published by Katherine
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As the TV screen comes alive,
Screeching with news of death,
In natural calamities and road accidents
Of war on Ukraine that kills and maims thousands
Of carnage and bloodshed,
Of gory tales of rape and molestation
Of manhandling and suicide
Of battered childhood and teary eyed women
Of politicians’ pandemonium open n’ outrageous
Their nasty tirade and mudslinging
And similar scenes of sickening magnitude,
My hands grope for the ‘remote’.
The channels swing past in lightning speed
From frenzied gyrations of lovers of celluloid
To serials lengthening into infinity
Of love betrayed, tears shed
Bonds snapped, hearts shattered
Until at last my fingers settle
On the wonders of the Animal Planet
Where the beasts roam free and fearless
Where there is no greed to hoard
Where no one wears a mask
And everything ruled by sheer survival instinct!
When lightning strikes post thunderclap
stout, sturdy, stems do sometimes snap.
Fires are kindled in a flash
turning things we treasure to ash.
From high above mountains and hills
lightning strikes men and maims or kills.
That’s when our gut grim grief doth grip
and chafe our soul as with a whip.
When death like lightning strikes a soul
sorrow and sobbing take their toll.
Mere mortals some their Maker curse
while others Job-like faith do nurse.
When sorrow and strife stalk your soul
let not your mind sink to Sheol.
Look up instead to God above
And let Him heal your heart with love.
The choice you make can build or break
your trust in God, so, stay awake.
Your enemy lurks like a snake
to tempt your God to forsake.
When like just Job your faith is tried
Humble yourself, dispense with pride.
Trust God, and with firm faith abide,
let His promises be your guide.
A homeless woman squatted on the pavement
Empty bottle of mineral water by her side.
It was a hot summer noon …the stench
Of poverty makes me ashamed as I ride,
The swanky metro. Brooding… get off at my station,
Impatiently, walk as the street urchins extend hands to beg,
For money, for food; wonder should I buy rations
With dismay, saw one was hopping, had only one leg.
Anger welled up against the mafia that maims these kids,
And trains them in art of begging, recognise the victims.
The so called slum dogs, with resignation and grit
Grow into petty thieves or whores, at the mercy of pimps.
The dance of Democracy reaches a crescendo.
Candidates come with promises and folded hands.
Smouldering eyes, one asked with bravado,
How come in the name of growth we see a helipad?
Young nation, been six decades, since independent,
Learnt, after Kosi floods, kids sold for pennies by parents.
Common man’s plight worse than that of pigs and insects.
Live on hope and prayers, a great leader will finally resurrect.
#FECUND_WRITER
Shedang, huntress of the forest, it is said that her arrows are true.
A protector of deer, squirrels, and other wildlife; her quiver will do.
Is she an entity or someone created by the wildlife of the trees?
I wonder as I walk through the forest, accompanied by a soft breeze.
Is it true she can leap from branch to branch, from elm to oak?
I have heard so much about her from the Germanic folk.
She maims the hunters, rarely kills them, the storytellers say.
I have heard this story since I was a child from those who were gray.
She is bewitched, some say. She can hear you coming from the lake.
I listened to these stories, and my knees began to jive and quake.
She sounded dangerous to me, it made me want to never hunt.
My grandpa kept inviting me, but I got a ball and asked him to punt.
Watch out for Shedang, they warned, don’t even step on the ‘shrooms.
She could easily fly out of a tree, and get you with arrows that zoom.
I saw her sitting way up high in a maple polishing arrows last spring.
Averted my eyes, and went back down the trail, without hurting a thing.
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