Narrate Poems

forget not king warning

forget not king warning demonic 
danger incremental gradual liberal
nor genocide joey precedent 
nor dispensation donny cleansing
oligarchy authority false choice
g ford greater more effective evil
empire merrikka people subjects 
rejects will well being ignore
dream fruition arriving never more
guard commons free speech farmed
private sector extract boiled ready frog
politic elect thesbian culture war
tonies grammies oscars divide conquer
chopping chomsky consent manufacture
wealth income earth labor rare birth
despair lament pay rent higher 
proper response race both blatant
subtle kinder gentler totalitarian 
all planet people planted excluded
possible power economic politic
remote hemmed chemical psycho
social escape routes addict dead ends
abundant narrate nook craney cross
every color four bid three finger all pro
nouns nun since seeing poking stabbing
lids bins laden all gore beat rhyme
tapdancing tintinabulation embedded
robot tune ruin seesaw sooth soul life
sleep endless bow dark nestle loud
selah

That Date with Jennifer Lopez

Wait. To you, she's “La Lopez”. To me, “Jen”, always.
Doyenne of “Anaconda”. A date, indeed!
You’d have me narrate the gravamen,
say how it was? She was a ten. Great, she seemed.
Or perhaps an eight. But never again!
Well, she doesn’t like real men. Cheapskate, too.
I’ll tell you straight, it all went bandy when,
as our train pulled out of Penn, to celebrate ‘us’,
she called her lawyer. I hate zen precepts,
but marriage? With no debate? Comedienne!

Swaying

"seen" is through notation
more apparent to our senses
more palpable through
 physical sensations. 
cog rattle the percussions instrument
a modern take on sound
what inspires might to
create
the invention of
make music visible
visually represent music
attempt to visualize sound waves
in the village of Blatten, was the Birch Glacier
the debris of the crumbled Birch caused the
Lornez to flood
a prolonged period of an elevated mood
they seemed unmoved even through the differences
seasonal effective disorder
I heard one say it was more a 
amusia, musical anhedonia
They refused to allow them
 to narrate there condition
 nds of music shall please hte senses
where happiness can allow the moods
can mend the minds where folk
"can again construct on Gods land"
spoke a fella near the situation
structure and stabilty
the notes shall make sounds
visible sounds
"what a sight to see"

Globi and Hanswurst in Swisserland
Inverse Kinematics
swaying to the sounds of music

The Mortal

Ethereal Goddess, give me  your light
Your beauty is ineffable, and cold as ice
Your heart must be a labyrinth full of tales
Euphoric is the man's love that never pales.

Your voice must be quite lyrical when you speak
A lullaby of love, versed with a birdy tweet.
Did all love stories have romance in such a way?
Perhaps you just narrate day to day.

We mortals could never quite contemplate the likes of you,
The stories never do justice, if I were to tell the truth.
My heart would be in oblivion and tossed into space
if ever I had a chance to behold your face.

For our destinies may never be intertwined
And the stars never quite aligned
But hope still holds love for me
to give me peace internally.

The hunter that raised a monster

Deep in the forest where various monster beast abode
The hunter dares himself to enter the dangerous zone
To hunt for games that is rich for gains

Under the big Iroko tree lies the little animal 
Having a soft and fluffy coat designed with bright colors
A bright orange and white color patterned with black stripes

They call it a tiger

"No it's a cub"
The hunter allured by its beauty 
Smiled and have a deal with the forest god
He took the cub to his home and decided to foster it

At first, the cub shares little part of games with it's owner
Gradually the share begin to increase
And a pint of discomfort found a room in the hunter's heart

"Treat an animal like human for thousand years, animal will still be animal" 

The cub grows big as the clouds shifts
And soon turn to a tiger

A day came that the hunter couldn't narrate
It was the day of his death

The tiger turned to a monster overnight 

At a bright dawn, the sun shines brightly at the hunter's pool of blood
The monster had teared it's owner into pieces

Pieces that wouldn't have a chance to rest in peace.

In search of sympathy

All have hassles their own, 
All with own fate upset, 
With whom to pour my heart?
Under roof-- one common 
All suffer self-sown fate, 
With whom to pour my heart?

Sad tales, not so unknown, 
They all seem to narrate, 
With whom to pour my heart?
No one is left alone 
If we search, sort, ferret, 
With whom to pour my heart?  

Blares every gramophone,
Each all so aloud set, 
With whom to pour my heart?
All have a chewing bone 
Their own, and no free date, 
With whom to pour my heart?

O to wait for that dawn 
Where world is not jet set
To pour my bleeding heart.
Till then I’ve to just frown 
And endure,  my teeth grate, 
Till I’ve souls to pour heart.

All people tend to moan 
It’s this nature I hate-- 
Too ready to pour heart.  
With all in such zone 
That keeps an ajar gate 
To cry, where I my heart?
____________________
Ghazal |16.02.2025| sympathy, heart    
Note: The six lines of each stanza here in essence make only a couplet--just two lines. There are two rhymes and two refrains.

I Recently Found Out

I Recently Found Out

Recently I found out light is 
afraid of 
dried figs, (figs are 
fascinated by
anything square-shaped); ice block sticks are into
lounges and 
cars; pastry grow facial hair and 
grow pubic hair; Mr Ironic plays the 
violin; Mrs Stun gun bathes in 
red wine. To 
hurt Mr Jeans’ feelings all you have to 
do is lower your 
eyebrows; pool chlorine wants to be a 
cat so it can
lick itself; free moustaches can
juggle worms; eggplants have
laughing fits when
the temperature goes 
below zero; brown sugar has a 
better smelling ability than 
dogs have; white sugar can
type 120 words per minute; lemons can dream and 
narrate documentaries on 
any subject; sling shots are
huge fans of 
the Golden Age of 
Hollywood.

COLOURS OF LOVE

( Photo no.4 )                                                       
   Colours of love brighten and lighten soul-tides   
  Its theme and stream ensures the all hearts-motion 
People used to wish and cherish to reach its melodious sides.

Impact of colours decorate and narrate life-theory 
Just throw and sow colourful seeds
Crops of love will grow and glow suppressing
sorrowful sad-dowry.

Love locates and illuminates up colourful life aspects.
So let's ensure and secure its presence everywhere
Colours promote a remote results filling the life with lovely defects.

She Is A Celebration

She wears her flaws as her makeup,
Her mind - a canvas now painted in oblivion. 
While her lips are sealed with silence,
Her eyes narrate the story of her soul.
Deaf to all the chaotic voices outside,
She listens to the rhythm of inner peace.
Adorned are her scars with feathers,
For she is a celebration of freedom.

The Silent Tale

As I was wandering on this lazy day,
Thought of you crept my mind away.
How did all of this even start?
Now I’m ready to unveil my part.
 
When my eyes met yours,
I warned myself to not get involved with you.
The feeling just came to me,
You’ll become someone hard to let go.

There is just something in your eyes,
Telling me more than just a “Hi.”
It showed me care and attention,
That sparked all this delusion.
 
Your eyes narrate what words can't convey,
Communication is key but we chose the hard way.
As thoughts remain unsaid,
I allowed my mind to craft the tale instead.

Phase three

Bliss
a phase where we are continually happy
where those people
who are routinely making your relationship
difficult are eased with the promise of one
reaping the rewards of a successful endeavor.

when the stage is set and those who wish you happiness
can know longer narrate or meddle in
the two Lovers lives.
When the ink is casted
let the honeymoon began.

She bought both her flute and oboe
on the honeymoon.
She had me crawling on my oboes just to
get next to her.
Every time I started smochie hoochie
she blow the flute.
I kissed her cheek and she blow the oboe.
I had to get a sing with her to stay outta trombone: I bassoon it's
part of the honeymoon phase. Being inspired and all. But staying interested meant staying in tune
but hat's all n the Bliss of romance.
It's all about romance and being romantic!


The Tip on Table Seven was from the Guy I told this
Story too. He to was
on his honeymoon.
The Gal's went outside clownshow.
Too many insect out there for me
I came inside! She out there in
th Gally get-up: Dudes lookin all up on her:
Let me get out there:before she start
smiling up in somebodies face!
See you around man!

Where Shadows Lurk

Where Shadows Lurk
In the depth of night I wander,
Through the corridors of fear,
Where shadows lurk and ponder,
On the mysteries of the yesteryear.

From the shattered, broken windows,
Gleams a beam of spectral light,
Like a blade, sharp and pointed,
Piercing the heart of the silent night.

On the walls, I see the remnants,
Of the art, ancient and rare,
Where the light reveals the countenance,
Of those who are no longer there.

They gaze, they grin,
With a look of disdain and sorrow,
They mock, they beguile,
With a voice from the hollow.

They speak of a grief,
That no mortal can bear,
They whisper of a future,
Devoid of any hope or care.

They narrate to me a tale,
Beyond all logic and verse,
They reveal to me a splendor,
That no eye can traverse in this universe.

They entice me with their falsehoods,
To the rooms where darkness resides,
Where the light is a fading spark,
And the shadows are my guides.

Racism

These days my wife and I are in Australia for a holiday 
We walk down to Coogee beach every other day
A signage screams, ‘racism not welcome’
‘Who’re they addressing’ we hum

Opposite is McDonalds eat out
From within we hear an Aussie shout
‘I don’t like your accent, yellow skinned girl’
In silent rage the hair on my arms begins to curl

Now, Aussies are mostly quite friendly and affable
Yet what we narrate too is fact and not fable
One rotten apple gives all a bad name
But the braggart, he had no shame

Why did McDonalds serve this man
Such idiots get away because they can
It is high time we get together to walk the talk 
Punishment should be swift and we should not balk

Fabricated Falsehood Collaboration With Silent One

In silence we admire the splendor of our universe,
surrounded by breathtaking scenery ever so diverse.
Golden Sun, pale moon and silver stars animate an artist's mind,
whilst a poet creates imagery pleasing eyes that are blind.

Whispers of serene stars echo like a melodic lullaby,
but some dark minds serenade in lyrics we can't identify.
We all become fragile reflecting a mourning butterfly,
but some souls adopt envious eyes clouded in ebony skies. 

In a dream world of charm, jealousy is an undying misery,
resentment is regretful with fake tales veiled in mystery.
Some ink is invisible when scribbled across a canvas of tragedy,
especially when the tongue paints an image of insanity.

Sincerity is a charm of elegance only pure hearts emanate,
immune to fabricated falsehoods a storyteller will narrate.

Waning

Amid the worldly chaos
And earthly blues
Wanes my beloved muse

Like the shattered clouds
My thoughts dissolve
But deep inside they echo

To narrate the fables piled-up 
which have been swirling for a while, 
The suffocated words strive

Awaiting the nimbus clouds
to cascade down...

For when the nimbus clouds gather
The fierce thunder will boom
And the words will drum aloud 

When the rain falls,
hoarded thoughts will cascade
and the arid land will be loaded

But will the nimbus clouds gather?
Will it flow further?

Will the thunder drums play?
Will it rouse my dormant muse?

Will the lightning strikes spark?
Will waning muse step into a waxing phase?

"It will for sure..."
People say, I hear... 
But when?
No one can answer...

Until then,
Waning me awaits...
dreaming of the waxing phase,
and relishing the chaotic state...

28-Aug -2023

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