Not too late,
Peace, goodwill mandate,
Nativity celebrate.
From the ashes of struggle, we rose—
I, Mao, with fire.
I, Deng, with reform.
Now, Xi walks where dragons tread,
With silence sharper than swords.
Taiwan waits—not to be taken,
But to remember.
For the Art of War wins wars unspoken,
And rivers return to their source.
Do not fear the red sun rising—
It does not burn,
It illumines.
China does not beg the world.
It shapes it.
Steel in the spine, silk in the hand—
This is how empires endure.
The mandate is not granted.
It is earned.
And Xi has earned it.
Not even heaven resists
What history has already written.
The sun, a brass gong,
a brassy, blazing command,
it wakes the world,
with a fiery, golden hand.
The air, a hesitant breath,
in a nascent, cool embrace,
now exhales,
warming with the sun's grace.
The earth, a jade canvas,
in emerald light, it lies,
dappled, vibrant,
shimmering under golden skies.
The trees, a verdant legion,
stand tall,
reaching for the sun's rays,
in an arboreal, vibrant thrall.
And then, a slow descent,
the sun, a tilted coin,
it's light, a slanting fire,
on a canvas, now stained with wine.
The earth, in ochre draped,
hushed, in golden afterglow,
embraces the waning sun,
as shadows lengthen, softly grow.
The wind, a sigh of cool air,
brushes the twilight sky,
with the day's farewell,
as night's curtain begins to lie.
And on the tongue, the lingering taste,
of sunlit warmth,
a fading, sun-kissed sigh,
a promise of dawn, in the heart of the night.
There once was a man, who came from Penzance,
Who attended, a St. Valentine's dance.
But he soon turned, and ran,
For each guest was a man.
Who were all looking for more, than bromance.
The thirteenth kingdom says that he is the word so great
Born from the king of kings, who gave his dear son a mandate
To enter the world the word formed as it is his fate
The word received glory before he left through heaven’s gate
And entered the flowing waters to quench the powers
Especially their flaming and chaotic desires
But the kingless generation, those children above the stars of night
Whispers that the invisible light chose him to enter the chaos and plight
Chose him from all the eternal realms, to carry five seals of insight
In him was the seed of gnosis, to grow and know the truth and light
“Out of a foreign air and realm, the sun of life appeared in our midst
Christ, the son, chose us to shine in the Pleroma, out of the mist”
At his readiness, medley reduced to romance
Pure patched with strategy, pony Rosinanthe
Slick sleuth rotund from a thousand tutorials
Ideality frisked into quixotic filly deplorable
Avid lover Danton handles haggard hill driven
Hoof throb corruption chorales sin's provision
Ever after mantra mashed into lurid intervals
Putrid piebald frames racecourse, analytical
Etching on ranch entrance, ostler is cognizant
Required for pyxis stamina, rubies resplendent
Camofluer canters to sumer anonymous rural
Damsel plans her Danton's conclusion brutal
Mid August Triumphant Lament
My mask
Relaxed
Ate snacks
Played jacks…
Made tracks
Well, they’ll mandate ya when you’re in the health department
They’ll mandate ya when you’re in the education department
They’ll mandate ya when you work for the government
They’ll mandate ya when you’re trying to get something to eat
But I would not feel such a bot
ah, everybody must get mandated.
New York City workers
Must be vaccinated or
If they show up for work, they will
Be firmly shown the door.
I’m heartened by this mandate
And especially in schools.
It’s time to bid farewell to all
The anti-vaxxer fools.
We’ve all been pricked for smallpox,
For measles and the mumps
And whooping cough and polio
(And sometimes on our rumps!)
So suck it up and take the shot,
Those missing jabs and swabs,
For you’ll be safer and, of course,
You’ll get to keep your jobs.
Cocksure donald trump
Doubly sure is Donald Trump
That US voters didn’t him dump
And winning figures didn’t voluntarily slump;
For which reason he’s ever taking the hump,
To Americans keep wiring the untouchable truth
Worth protecting in a Limousine’s booth…
Even with inflamed torturing mumps,
No less a throat lining malignant lumps!
And at their stolen mandate
All Americans should jump!
Their noble resilience opening its gate
For a thrashing of this embarrassment to their Trump.
Enough water for the hands soiled by clumps,
Enough medics for heads saluted by bumps.
Perhaps, the law won’t be kicking Trump’s rump
But shall keep frowning at facts with just a proud pump.
Who is deserved of justice
In a nation of self-seekers
Bent upon climbing higher,
Gaining ever greater riches,
Regardless of the slaughter.
Who is deserved of mercy
When destruction of innocence
Lies bleeding on darkened streets,
Boot-marked by the foot of power,
Regardless of their woeful pleas.
Perhaps it will be these sinners,
When looking back upon their lives
See nothing but the door of death
And beg God for His forgiveness.
A poet will write once,
a poet will write yet again
And all of the words written therein,
are the sum of the poet's pen
A poet writes about life,
a poet writes about death
And anything a poet writes about
falls between the pillar of those two, more or less
A poet will articulate about life,
real and imagined things conjured from the depths of the mind
A poet will expound upon death,
things regarding finality and closure, obscure and sublime
A poet fashions words about pure imagination,
deep meditative thoughts and rational contemplations
They record oxidized emotions pressed on carbonized clay paper,
they reconstruct ancient eroded events lost in the temporal vapor
A poet will speak of the future,
of things most have yet to conceive
A poet will give essay on the essence of faith,
persuading even some pragmatics to believe
A poet is always awash in words,
making sure that your voice is never unheard
A poet will always bear witness
as to the nature of things
They will always uncover hidden truths
buried in the sands of philosophical musings
This is the authority cosigned to the poet pen
This is the poet's mandate,
their soul offering
To whom does the Jade Emperor,
The Sovereign of the Heavens above,
Bequeath the crown for all the lands,
Under divine clouds and starry skies?
Is it the mighty, scholarly or wealthy?
Is it a man of ancient and royal blood?
Or is it the favored son, a great orator,
Most proud, persuasive and popular?
The truth is: They have no right to rule!
The Mandate of Heaven is bestowed
Solely to those who have cast clean
Their hearts of all avarice, lust and wrath!
For in sagely Confucius’ Great Learning:
All those who wish to uphold the world
Must first be true and order their households,
And those who seek to be true must be pure!
For by eschewing vice and embracing virtue,
Comes a tranquility of heart that allows
One’s erudite inner wisdom to shine bright,
Leading to profound foresight and sincerity!
Only such a person is worthy of authority,
And can banish all woe and bring weal
To all above the earth and under the sky,
Yielding mirth for the minds of many!
All rights released into Public Domain
Once again we make our choice known,
Urge leaders here to know our voice;
Respect our take in vote count shown.
Free will now steers our fateful choice,
Indulge our cheer and chart our way,
Reap what we sow in journeys far;
Mind now and here new light of day.
Meet what we know: a moon, five stars;
Align our hopes where dreams come true,
Note days of gold where progress comes;
Design bold scope for me and you,
Apt works unfold where grandeur sums;
Tamper our quest with ideas rich,
Exploit the best to impact niche.
Leon Enriquez
12 September 2015
Singapore.
A grand finale here at the gate:
Truth has a way to spark fond feel;
Indulge end play to sync with fate;
Minds move to stay upon goodwill;
Etch memory in time and space;
Live gratitude in a warm touch;
Yield harmony in love we trace.
Meet attitude in vital nudge;
Align sure hearts that echo free;
Notice the queues that tell on you;
Death seeks to art what mandate sees;
Assign to you grateful: "Thank You"...
Today we see as one nation;
Enjoy clearly fond persuasion.
Leon Enriquez
30 March 2015
Singapore
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