The quicksilver moon’s not secure in her orbit.
I’ve heard that she’s slyly slipping away,
One and a half inches yearly
so a little bit every day.
I, for one, want her to stay.
‘Oh meritorious silver sister, you have no dark side,
and I’ve grown used to your capricious light,
Why do you only hover at night?”
I think of her as my own
though she wears no ring
like that showy trollop Saturn
Our moon has a higher engagement pattern.
She’s a spectacle for moon-inspired dances
and a cupid for nocturnal animalistic romances.
Have you noticed that sometimes she’s dark
and sometimes she’s bright?
What turns her on?
What turns her off?
That’s always the question with ladies,
isn’t it?
.
.
Songs for this:
Dancing In The Moonlight (feat. NEIMY) by Jubël
Fly Me to the Moon (feat. Izzie Naylor) Shoby
Moonlight Becomes You by Jeff Haislip
A cavalcade of savage singing lights
whip worshippers of ultraviolet;
Indulging the most hedonistic threat
they raise hooks to meritorious heights;
DJ’s entourage being read last rites
at the end of that set they won’t forget;
A cavalcade;
The swollen witching hour synthetic bites
direct reckless dancers to a sure bet;
Inarticulate’s the best you can get;
Obsessing over complicated fights,
a cavalcade.
deserving love is---like a humble lily that shines endlessly.
Meritorious lessons, verily memorable
meant by organ grinder or street musician I virtually met
move me to mention my meditations…
Midst his marvelous music
my momentous milestones are filled with hymns*
magnifying the majesty of the Supreme Almighty…
Musing about his magic
my mind is mesmerized with charm of melodious
minutes meandering toward merriment-mirth…
Marked by his impact along what his messages impart
my mentality seems to murmur against
mistakes human nature succumbs to as
my spirit melts toward meekness-moist
mending for magnanimity while aiming for God’s
mercy of faith's flame and truth's frame-merging.
Mentored on functional management
my ministry pursuits never minimize
mighty miracles of the Lord against
mysteries lurking and mockingly
mounting over the last organ grinder’s
monkey business matters.
*Ephesians 5:19 “Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.”
November 4, 2023
2nd place, "The Last Organ Grinder" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 11/22/2023
I could see,
Amidst the shadows swimming in our murky waters
The many different forms of goodness
That humanity could adorn itself of
These took the names of values, of good habits,
Of good intentions and of meritorious acts
So much that I chose to focus my attention solely on these
Stubbornly refusing to believe that shadows
Could someday
Win and take over the world!
And lifting up my little finger,
I imbibed myself of this goodness
That this world had to offer
Hoping,
Someday, to share it with the rest of the humans
So as to make them believe
In the positive notes that this world could vibe with!
It’s
part of
the package, I am
an outlier. A wise woman
who comes with many Benjamins.
These Benjamins are liable for the obstruction
between me and most men under the bell-shaped curve.
Turning to face this nice headache, I meet the warrior who lives
within-- I am not poor.
A woman’s Financial abundance grows into a barrier in her relationship.
I have to deal with feelings of resistance. Or the danger to fail my worthiness.
I have to reshape my feminine vulnerability; and retain being meritorious and
extraordinary. I have to fight not to be exploited..……..how exhausting!
Freedom of wealth comes with a dare -- I am not poor. Simply
want to feel being taking care of, without requests. Like my
father provides his wife who brings only breadcrumbs
into their long lasting marriage.
Coming from a place of honesty, gratefulness.
Desire for feeling safe and sound, provided
protected. A conscious marriage
celebrates 30’s anniversary.
A powerful woman
comes with a
gift – I am
worthy
Money,
plus than paper
with images,
a symbol...
further than vile metal,
a gesture...
even demonized
a blessing... !
Further than a villain,
a miracle... !
sensitive further
than primitivism
Sweeter and smooth
than pettiness...
Charitable,
as a meritorious...
Humanist,
as a donor...
It is the summary
of all actions
dynamics,
efficient artifice
of motricity...
is altruistic when
avoid barbarism
of the dispute of
man for food...
It's an enjoyable benefit
to all available...
The selfishness of men and that
do it
scarce....fickle...!
I’ve been trying to dispel shivers of grey
For today there is beating of wings towards me
And I’m surrounded in suffocating bits of uncertainty
Seeing dark in the quotidian shadows calling out names
I cry meritorious to change the ominous forms lent
Instead to see them dancing gossamery friends
I see the welcome spill in amber dulcet light
Glinting star wishes tapping upon my scared shoulder
Teasing effervescence softens my dark horizon shinning
Bodies swaying as does a palm frond wave with grace
I tiptoe across the bridge to grab onto offered hands
Feel the dark tumble-down cobweb crusted steps
As day break beckons in a crystalline perfect rose
The morning now to measure with uplifted glad heart
Fear not the solitude enfolded within but rejoice the day
1st Place
Brians select 8 June 8 2020
A meritorious student, half way to her study of medicine
She took up the Nursing Course,
Dorothea, a beautiful young nun with a mother’s heart
Used to take minute care of all the sisters
She met on her way specially the sick ones
As member of a nunnery in sub-urban America.
Let’s not mention the name of the institution or the place,
Suffice it to say that she had a perfect job satisfaction
As it suited to her nature and aim of her life to serve.
All in the nunnery and the neighborhood considered her
A precious gift of God to the humans;
Once during the wee hours of the morning
When everything waits for change
She was alone in a lonely room changing her dress
Preparing to go to her room at the end of the night shift;
But suddenly she swooned bent on a chair,
Without a warning, without their notice died.
As if she changed her soul’s cover
Like a garment of the mortal body
At the end of the night toil.
And the God took care of the soul
At the end of its journey;
A gift of God
Went back to its source.
The battle line is drawn.
Beyond the mystery of your power,
You've laid us down.
In your bid to get in here you promised to build a tower.
On your shoulder do we rest
Till you daily lay us to rest.
We will end the insurgence in few months
While same seems not ending after four years.
Revolution now is seen as threat
While with your mouth it's declared.
The fight against corruption
In your bid is an illusion.
As this is done in meritorious deceits.
Tell me not to raise any alarm.
How dare you say that?
As anarchy iseminent to your act.
In deep thought, the murder of the rule of law
Is announce in your filthy hands
As you desecrate the temple of justice
In bid to be above the law
Where is our hope?
Where are we to go from here?
No food on the table
As all had been inflated.
The minimum wage has no date of implementation
And you've come to fight corruption.
Are you not?
Hear me great Divine
As my petition is made from a wounded heart.
Forgive and let this cup pass us by
As in the time of general Abasha
YET, HE DIED
We are here to mourn our friend,
Who led an ascetic life?
Shrewd, astute and virtuous as he was,
He died.
Upright as himself, second to none
His arduous engrossed incessant obscene
But these clandestine deeds
Are now covered with his closed eyes
For nobody his clay feet indeed saw.
So meritorious –
Yet as upright as he was,
He died.
We shall talk more of our friend
And the timorous terror of his name
That caused infants to rain down their pants;
When this name is forgotten by birds that sang it.
For as famous as he was,
He died.
AKINMULEYA A. ALFRED
©2018
Many memories of my mother
making moist mellow macaroons
marshmallows and Madeira cake,
minuscule madeleines, marvellous,
mum measures, marinates, melts,
more majestic meals.
My matriarch makes,
marmalade,
marzipan,
muffins,
mincemeat,
meringue.
mousse.
My meritorious mom mixes, merges, mingles,
melon,
mango,
mulberries,
Mandarins.
My maternal materfamilias, masterminds
Mealtime masterpieces.
You are not a good person at all
If you don’t promote what is good
And prevent things which is bad
You are a person indeed mean
When you suppress the meritorious
And accommodate the undeserving
The place is not really the good one
Where dissidents are not tolerated
And treat well who are in the opposition
Your education is totally worthless
If you don’t have the ability to distinguish
What is falsity and what is truth
Your life is really a nasty big mess
When you are fully capable of
Yet you refuse to differentiate
What is wrong and what is right
Your mind is a stinky rotten piece
When you have adorable love at hand
Yet you go spreading abominable hate
Your soul is not pure and lively either
If you hold malice against the race of man
And talk ill out of bigotry or prejudice.
Less content much drama
Less content much drama
Going on each stage of the world
Be it in the house
Or be in the parliament
Actors are now ministers
Honest politicians are pushed and side lined
Value of smooth skin much more
Than the value of brain
Much talk less work
Now is the fashion of a politician world wide
Be it inside the house
Or be it outside the parliament
Liars are now ministers
Meritorious politicians are pushed and side lined
Value of lying is much more
Than the value of truth telling
Less quality much showing
Now is the choice of a politician anywhere in the world
Be it in Asia
Or it in Europe
Fakers are now ministers
Wise politicians are pushed over and side lined
Value of hoodwinking is much more
Than the value of truth telling .
Teacher is indispensible in this world,
Without whom the students are not properly nurtured.
One day when a teacher in a Gurukul went away,
Giving the charge to one of his meritorious flay.
He ought to maintain all the decorum,
Without which the Gurukul is lost in a drum.
His senior mates were even jealous from his name,
Because of his progress in receiving the fame.
Once a day while there developed a quarrel
On one side were the seniors,
While on the other side was their leader.
The leader was very mature by intellect,
Tried all the hooks and kerns by negotiating for the sect.
But however the seniors didn’t hear him at all,
And tried to hit him after making him fall.
Suddenly arrived the teacher on the spot,
Because he had an intuition of something wrong.
He immediately expelled the garbage of Gurukul,
And tried to make the situation over there cool.
By this, it’s clearly transparent
That the teacher student relationship is subject to reticence,
Because it’s the most unique relationship in the universe.
Respect your teacher
And get what you desire.
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