Effigy formed of inert dust,
Inhaled the divine pulse, vile vine
Infused with worth and dignity.
I'm not! I'm not! Fallen from grace;
I frown at my rueful bungle.
Sad to strut, my honor swishes
Shame; dark crusted conscience
Hangs on me; keeps paling my worth
Till I yell at Christ's open arms
For return of the gone glory,
So dear, the present, a shadow.
Years in the fire, self-refining,
Yielded scum, dross, a dull shine.
If I should have another chance,
Revert to the noble state I'd lost,
My heart could be tanned rainbow.
A dove cranes on a perch, offset
Against the blue, croons in the wind,
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
Yet I battle with baneful pride,
Scorn the grace, the courting nocturne.
No end to my nice now, I wow.
Quite unequalled, I'll ever be.
The bell tolls for others, each time
Softer; the whir of a whirling world.
The sun keeps her scoot; stars, their stroll.
Summer smiles; winter whines, sulks.
Time etches against my proud form.
The bell! Sounds like tolling closer—
Jangling, ruffling... nettling.
Yet my pride... my pride sticks,
Lances the chance to begin again.
© 2015 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Categories:
nettling, spiritual,
Form: Pastoral
Like a vulture eating an animal before completely dead
Is the person who picks a person's emotions, psychic til bled
A person filled with inner rage that comes out as passive/agrresive
Corrosion from the inside eating through to surface__ like a crab
Slowly eating its noonday meal
Tormented inwardly tormentor of those close and personal
A harassor of those helpless, sensitive, powerless, dependent
This vulture like person grows fat at other's expense
Using their nettling ways
The vulture goads__teases__just like a cat who plays with its prey
Their vexation is internal they have to have control
They cannot just let life flow
Control gone they become irritable, peevish, queralous, waspish don't come near
For you could be next in line so you better stand in fear
Categories:
nettling, life, people
Form: Rhyme