through streets of déclassé squalor, i wander,
courtesan of chaos my feet bare,
ballerina on the dirty floor
o the city's kin of decay,
ragtag orchestra plays its dirge;
an eerie swan song.
i dance with shadows, a mistress of midnight's
in alleyways, i hear the ghosts of carnal revelries,
know the dolled-up ghoul of society's sweet melee,
her cocktail shrouded in obtuseness,
shares its waves of beer-fused intoxication
Categories:
obtuseness, corruption,
Form: Rhyme
Her body was that of a wizened crone,
her enfeebled mind was that of a child.
Playfully, she skipped and jumped rope, and shone,
but only in her confused dreams of wild.
Her drear some days softened by her tone,
she mumbled of lost love, and her eyes smiled.
Time and age had drained her of consciousness,
stealing the current surroundings from her
and replacing them with the obtuseness
known only by those who soon become her.
She sits and thinks with laboriousness
until she succumbs and the drugs numb her.
Categories:
obtuseness, age, confusion, death, drug,
Form: Rhyme
We were not doing well,
the chipmunk was excavating our front step,
nibbling away at our foundations.
The chipmuck was a metaphor.
The garden peach tree developed a blight,
the fruit rotted on their stems.
and that was some kind of metaphor,
for our words had poisoned the soil.
I began to believe in angels,
those fleet of wing metaphors
that carried other metaphors.
to those who misinterpreted
the plain English of
love and hate.
After the divorce, we grew closer,
even though it was over,
the separation brought us together,
in the same unravelling metaphor.
You read its cryptic signs,
and found solace in their obtuseness.
I translated them into Urdu,
then sought the advice of stray cats.
In the end we riddled it all out.
We were happier apart,
yet we were still both living metaphors,
for the poetry yet to come.
Categories:
obtuseness, poetry,
Form: Free verse
THE DANCE POETIC (just a play with words, acrostic variation)
T tantalizing, titillating theater, transpires
H head-on, hesitating hovering hoopla,
E edging effortless extinguished expose' entities.
D Dancing dubious distinguished debonair devils;
A anxious actors awaiting attendant accompaniment,
N nuances neither needing necessity nor neglect,
C castigating casualites continual concordance,
E eager entangled entrance exiting each everyone.
P Pursue petulant possibilities presented passively
O on old odd occasions occupying oblivious obtuseness
E etching embers escaping easy exhibitions exiting
T the touch to trivial tickled trepidation touching tomorrow,
I inhibited inches indicate inklings incidental
C come charm, chance cascading co-mingling cognise coos.
Repeat and join the joyous jubilations of The Poetic Dance.
Categories:
obtuseness, dance, poetry, word play,
Form: Acrostic
I see deep into your being,
You will never notice that I was ever there,
My understanding passes foggily over your eyes as you remain ignorant and blissful of what you believe to be the triumphs over me in your mind,
Yet I have surpassed you in knowledge, of the knowledge that matters,
I did not school for it, I did not research for it,
I merely learned to know,
Your mind so inept to handle what I see and understand,
I laugh aloud within myself at your arrogant display of false power that you so think you hold,
So sad it seems from a perspective such as mine, so puny you have become,
On different stages we reside, yet so far behind are you that you cannot even see how far ahead I have surpassed,
Your obtuseness offends me, disappear and be forgotten,
Ultimately, that is your destiny.
Categories:
obtuseness, anger, emotions, feelings, hate,
Form: Free verse
As I sit at the stroke of 3
In this lucubrator
And watch the flame of the candle flicker,
I sort through scraps of your heart
On old crumpled paper,
And listen to the hebetude
Of your written words
Promising me
Everything.
I feel a tear drop
From the corner of my eye
And land on the paper
Smearing the useless promises of the ink.
I take a hand full of the promises
And hold it just above the flame,
Boutefeu upon it.
I see the ink bubble
And watch as the paper turn darker
Till finally
Its nothing but ash.
As I burn the pile full of
Promises and dreams,
Written down for all to see…,
I also burn you
And everything you were to me.
For you were all a lie!
Lucubrator- a person who studies by night, or by candlelight.
Hebetude- dullness; bluntness; obtuseness; want of discernment.
Boutefeu- is a French word, and literally means “to set fire.”
Categories:
obtuseness, education,
Form: Free verse
poets write with metaphors to protect their feelings
letting others read into it--pulling their own meaning
sometimes it hits close, no matter how vague we pen
obtuseness only goes so far when you see yourself in it
we write of unread books and things left out in the rain
of dances left unfinished and songs that we once sang
we write about opening windows and about closing doors
of dense, white fog and shadows, shrouds and birds that soar
we write of finding happiness, of thunder and skies of blue
of footprints in sand, the ocean tides and of the crescent moon
a metaphor does many things, it's left to interpretation
every singular moment, every singular situation
we pen these poems as lyrics or tag them spiritual
hoping others read them and pull from them what they will
Categories:
obtuseness, introspectionwrite, metaphor, write,
Form: Couplet