"Lost, in a fight for survival, a man refuses to succumb to a harsh wilderness." - quote by poet.
A great aerial adventure comes to
A harrowing end for one man.
His hot air balloon malfunctions;
It comes crashing down in the middle
Of a vast sea of trees.
He is quite fortunate to be alive,
But sustained injuries in the crash.
He shot his flare gun up in the air;
The only one in his possession.
T'was all for naught. Now what?
He has combed through the crash site
For his dislocated phone in vain.
Rainy jungle, untamed; It's no place to wait
For rescue. Wild animals roam here;
It teems with insects and snakes, too.
On the move with a badly broken leg,
He beats his way through the undergrowth
Back to civilization. Danger lurks
In every corner, but with strong faith
And resourcefulness, he pushes forward...
As I had mentioned earlier, dear friend,
I had undergone counseling abundant;
Preparing me mentally, psychologically,
My mentor had to treat me physically;
Functioning of my internal organs checked,
Malfunctions, with medications, wrecked;
Detoxifications of chemical contents done,
All that was weakening me were undone;
He filled me, then, with bouquets of advice,
Which I treasured as life’s greatest prize;
The taxi I had hired to take me home back,
Had advertisements of my favorite J.W black;
======
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I’ve given up drink of alcoholic nature now,
I do not eat anything junk in character as vow;
My temptations are, indeed, very strong,
Especially my brand, whose name in me gong;
I just say to myself: I will not drink today,
Every today goes on passing on every day.
08 July 2021
LET ER RIP #3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless
Twenty-three percent of all photocopier's malfunctions worldwide
Are caused by people sitting on them and taking a shot of their hide
Yep! Photocopying their bums
That's hilarious, oh what fun
When I showed my co-workers, their reaction was undignified
Sunburn
They muted us with
a poisonous smile
and political power.
Then they beheaded
our hills, massacred
trees, buried ponds…
We mistook their new
concrete buildings
for development.
They sit in the chill
of a/c rooms with
prostitutes. Venom
from their deeds’
fangs affects the
earth’s organs.
Climate malfunctions.
Embryo of rain dies
in the womb of cloud.
Sand suffers from
dehydration. These
red wild blossoms
are nature’s fury,
burning bright on
the branches. This
isn’t sunlight, but a
pyre. Life’s wings
are being burnt.
Butterflies don’t
decorate plants.
Flowers are like
breasts of silent
starving women.
Even a tough crow
doesn’t dare to fly.
A poor peasant
falls down, thrust
with sun’s arrows,
in his field of parched
dreams. Sunburn is
our annihilation’s
developmental stage.
Cold dawns and extremely chilly dusks
moving clouds stroll down very close to the Earth
vision blurred by dry mist
while humidity is tied in season’s personal polythene bag.
Air becomes a skeleton- ripped of its flesh
pain sensation, so active in a full time job
dry skins stay casualties to deformed flexibility
as they suffer a timely betrayal from an expected weather.
Evenings are blessed with romantic temperatures
even carrying along a windy followership
but always attach themselves to an ulterior motive
to stimulate a kind embrace and cause bodily malfunctions.
A period uniquely tropical
a season attracted to dry inlands and deserts
fully starting from the twelfth month to last seventy five days
sums up to be a mixed character of a major two;
as cold as the rainy days and as dry as the sunny ones.
There was an old tranny named Joe
who dressed as a nun and a ho',
both sides of the Bible,
both sacred and tribal,
he didn't know which way to go!
If I'm to be the neck
you fit inside a noose,
then spin me up a soul.
When you can define it -
and find it -
you let me know.
Until then, Mother-Father
fix your own malfunctions.
This universe
is your slaughterhouse.
I just work here.
In the midst of
nothingness,
Searching through
darkness,
Embracing
loneliness,
Comprehending
vagueness,
Befriending
uncertainties,
Playing with
vulnerabilities,
Absorbing
obscurities,
Appreciating
difficulties,
Drudging
malfunctions,
Living with
illusions,
Addicted to
intrusions,
Slave of
temptations,
In life many are the races
For varying requirements to cater
Because of an undeniable fact
That different abilities people got
The capabilities differing even further
There are those who are too fast
They will sprint for a few seconds,
Then hold their breath in rest
They choose the 100 meters race
Others moderate but sure
They will take the 21km half marathon
Others less moderate but more certain
They will do the 42 km marathon?
What happens when one overestimates;
His speed and gets into the 100meters race?
His strength and joins the 21 km race?
His perseverance and joins the 42 km race?
But what happens when adrenalin malfunctions?
And one lies to himself that he’s an athlete
I would rather be sure am one
Then slow but sure do the 42 km marathon
Perhaps victory upon me would come, who knows?
like pulling teeth
i can't wait to get this thing removed
thought it was an ingrown hair
but apparently the pain shows me where it really hurts
state of shock
phone too expensive
undeliverable mail
line of communication down
beware the water
side effects may include
swelling and shrinkage
waking up more dead everyday
voiceless expressions
no time to mourn the lost
survivalism and denial
remember me not forgotten
how is life worth all this pain
what did i enevitably learn in this experience
surrendering to societies malfunctions
I don't believe in
Beware the water
Battlefields littered with energies spent
erode the code that once held all firm
as spies disguise to resurrect consent
under malformed skies pacing out a term
transcendent in treacherous manifests
insidious to stave osmosis pure
from organic elements as protests
isolate issue from health to ensure
commonality malfunctions as cells
atomically unravel from function
towards black science sigils unleashing spells
infertile to force our grim injunction
oblong in consumptive revelation
nefarious to plot such stagnation.
There was an old tranny named Joe
who dressed as a nun and a who',
both sides of the Bible,
both sacred and tribal,
he didn't know which way to go!
I declined your questions today because its time for a little fidelity.
To my friends and to reality.
My name is Caroline and I'm ready to tell you who I am.
My life has been eaten alive by dirty scams.
I walk around with a mind like a television.
Just sitting there with ten thousand different decisions.
They never seem to get done.
Kinda rot there like a corpse in the hot sun.
My mind is a balance beam in between my functions.
One has a god and one just malfunctions.
Every now and then my own messiah comes in.
Washes away my contemplations of trendy sin.