How can it be that few of us can see
the hands of greed and pride have dealt their blow
and caused a horrid lack of faith to grow
Will God still listen to my earnest plea
as I request His help on bended knee?
I’m lost, I did not see, I did not know
that we had come to cause a world of woe
alas, attributed to those like me
My fleeting youth is spent, but hope hangs on
that better generations yet to come
will resurrect the truth, the faith, the light
and recreate the path that seems foregone
To greed, despair and pride they won’t succumb;
I want to trust one day they will unite
*Written May 10, 2014 - Miltonic Sonnet
Showcase of my favourite painted collection, a
Piled up for years, eventually being inaugurated, b
Without fail, what if colours were amalgamated ? b
No one could ever unveil my apprehension, a
Heart pouncing, breaths endured expansion, a
More and more to the colours as I concentrated, b
My senses shivered and swiftly hibernated, b
My passion, my hobby could not be my profession ! a
Neutral to doctor's innocuous advice on colour, c
Who proved out the reception on retina as deficient, d
Creator himself had prejudiced me in chromacy, e
Dreams of painting vibrant having lost all valour, c
As literary gained power, hues became munificent, d
Enriched in colors, now could be a pen's supremacy ! e
Written on 5/5/14
Sponsor- Craig Cornish
Contest- Miltonic sonnet
Lost souls that always roam the lonely roads,
Ever searching for that spring they shan’t find
In melancholy souls of their same kind,
Whose burdens break their backs with heavy loads,
Intertwined with heartbreak which bodes
Of darkest baggage from a life defined,
Containing sorrows leaving them maligned.
Though living within these confines one loathes,
Irrespective of profound loss of pride,
They deign to keep their loneliness repressed.
Old shadows follow, adding to their woes.
Seems almost an eon since last they cried,
Echoing in deaf ears how they’ve transgressed;
Yet hope glimmers in those sad eyes, Lord knows.
April, 18, 2014
The shadows creep and faintly in the sky,
stars begin to come to us with gentle light.
And once more our fancy doth take flight
with man's eternal question " oh God, why?
What place have we when then we die,
railing against the unknown we still fight.
Often that query comes unbidden in the night
as the time of our mortality marches nigh.
Now into the depths of sky man sails
on wings of faith, answers cloaked in mystery.
We beat our breast in anguish, try to understand
the plan that lurks there behind the starry veil.
And so it has been given through all history
that perhaps answers are written only in shifting sand...
4/18/14
To break the cycles of dependency
webs that entrap the soul, whether it be
drug related or alcoholic spree
Law rules, though blatant is the tendency
for stopping ears of rationality
of wise men, when those in ignorance flee
Marketable gains stir greeds avid glee
in gaining control of humanity
Recreational scene, a conjuror's trick
of a white rabbit out of a top hat
Applause, again, again, do it again
Then who will make the conjuror's wand flick
So, everyone, wants to do just that
Alcohol, drugs, how, why, is there no shame.
Date: 16/4/14