On this most unusual autumn day
I must say goodbye to an old friend,
a gigantic, ancient oak tree in my front yard:
You have shaded my porch for decades
enabling me to sit in my swing
on warm days relaxing, reading, and writing poems.
You have been the home of innumerable squirrels.
Little songbirds have perched on your branches
and serenaded me with their delightful trilling.
Limb by limb, you have been dying for a long time.
Twice, you have had to part with appendages, felled
by saws—at my reluctant bidding, but of necessity.
Some limbs have fallen on their own, in my yard
and even on the road!
Horrendous weather is coming, with ice and high
winds. For others and myself, I fear the huge limbs
on your right side that have been bare for several
years. How they creak when the wind rises!
The tree cutters will be here tomorrow.
Not even a stump will remain at day's end.
From this time forward, I will visualize you
where you once resided. I won't forget you.
Your kinfolk are still here, tall and strong—
as you once were.
May they thrive long after I am gone.
Convince them of necessity. Then councel
Of an immediacy.? Step it up to an emergency.' And keep it fast paced-volitile
With some pathos see.! Appeal to good intent..And hype the alarm, then offer the
Solution to every arm.? Throw out the cash
Raise the debt, get some princes to press
Knuckles yes! Get that photo op set.' Push
Out the quacks, oh the doctors i mean.?create some rules..Get real obscene, get
Old dolly parton to sing along, and many
Celebs will join the throng, its all about egos in the world you see.? And paying and
Paying..Well who ( the hell) values whats whats free.?
Thickened and scarred, my mask bears the burden of time,
Torn, stained, this tough shell silently unravels,
And yet, somehow, it continues to keep me alive, to protect me from the world,
It was never a shining armor, just my mask,
Trying to compensate for all that I could not be.
Sensitivity and tenderness were sacrificed on the altar of necessity,
To become my shield against the sharp and merciless wind,
My mask has burned, boiled, swelled under the relentless sun,
I treated it harshly, underestimating its silent and constant value,
Wearing it reluctantly through this sad, often unforgiving life.
I made it suffer more than it should have, under my weight,
Never acknowledging its silent and priceless sacrifice,
It, my mask, was there when I was not,
Remaining behind me, a testament to all the battles fought,
A story written in scars and burns, in its trenches of pain and silence.
Will I ever learn to truly value it, to appreciate
This mask that has borne my burdens with dignity,
To understand that it is not just a covering, but part of who I am,
A testament to my resilience, a map of survival,
That continues to defend me, despite all my mistakes?
Life is a cycle
It lives and breathes
Not a moment can be still
It's fragility
Born of necessity
Carried on at will
For all the unfairness
We have to go on
Find sense to be free
Even though it feels
Like our canvas is white
Where colour should be
Already your heartbeat
Has found it's way
Into all we do
Our hearts broken
Ignited in grief
All for you
As the tables turned
I tucked you in
A gentle kiss on your face
With tears streaming
I smiled as I saw Mum
As again she took her place
Love and miss you Dad ***
Don't ask why I change
Life is never be the same
I believe things evolve
This year I'm 55, 56 next year
This time I have many gray hairs
Not knowing next months all are white
I see my face has many wrinkles
Before only few of them I manage
I can push up 100 when I was 40
Now at 55, I barely made 50 push up
Before I always greet the morning free
Cause I wake up early and exercise
Now I mostly wake up late time
It's already hot and meals serve brunch time
Before I can jog a mile, now walk a mile
Love to comb my hair, now a hand brush is enough
Daily bath is routine, now interval of a day
No helmet drive motorcycle during youth days
Now, fear to drive instantly at busy highway
I have much foreboding in life when getting old
Life is never like before, sense of safety is a must
I have never such a impulsive feeling than being compulsive now
I have change a lot because of necessity of aging beforehand.
Be mindful of what you consume, for it shapes your being.
Nourish your vessel with compassion, as your diet influences your inclinations.
Choose your music judiciously, for rhythm resonates deeply with your soul.
Be mindful of what you read, as words penetrate straight to your heart.
Always practice prudence, for the devil’s trickery often hides in the guise of necessity.
First come, first served love
Is confusing and detrimental
Kind of relationship heart thing.
Never love if force is being made
Neither happiness with money based
A guarantee of secured relationships.
Give love not out of necessity
But love that is pure and natural
An attraction that is free flowing spirit.
Seldom I write
poetry like this
out of scratch mind.
Maybe, out of curve
and ordinary nuances
this life I shared.
No one knows when
to write, how you start
just out of necessity.
Words are like kites
the more you write
the faster it soar.
Just end with it
hanging in the eyes
of my beloved readers.
The poet, like many in education’s grip,
Faces another summer with pockets stripped.
In Eckes’s poem, two forms meet face to face:
The unemployment office, a dreary place.
Insults and banalities fill its lines,
An object of necessity, far from fine.
The poetic form stands firm and tried,
Resisting demands that are not true.
No easy answers will I provide,
Humor and pleasure within I hide.
Despite my state of what is real,
I dare to dream, to think, to feel.
As the poem now unfolds, it starts to show why most can't show.
The life that’s possible, the seeds that grow.
Not just survival, but living free,
Beyond what the bureaucratic form can see.
I have captured the struggle, the raw, the true,
The grim realism of what poets go through.
In the clash of ink, a truth is found,
In poetry’s embrace, my heart's unbound.
A poet dips and plants
till a green appears from
the tip of his pen
no wonder
the old masters used a deep
well of ink to troll
pierced their boils of necessity
for a word-ooze,
painful pricks causing flows
of relief the poet's booze
intoxication appears
a magician's cape and wand
not so unlike writer-diviner's
hidden streams
our bent twigs, real and deceptive
poet, physician and fond thief
gifted with a scalpel
of confounding mystery and applauded belief --
hexastich with rhyme
I drink my coffee standing on alert
knowing that my tasks move this chunk of dirt
on its axis... my world, my family.
Of necessity, I grab at moments
attacking life (with God) at faith's expense
wringing out each ounce of kids' energy.
I am a mother raising young children
as a chef, cop, coach, and comedienne.
Past these headwinds, I see in the distance -
a doting old grandma, coffee in her hands
Bible in her lap, waiting in the stands
sharing words worthy of God's remembrance.
Freedom, freedom, where are you?
Let my action be of choice and have the absence of necessity to liberate my mind from slavery.
Produce the quality of good state in me.
Freedom, freedom, where are you?
Give me a home with ease and produce the quality of being free from care.
Freedom, freedom, where are you?
Produce words of openness and outspokenness without improper familiarities.
Help me be bold and to act without compulsion.
Help me to apply a total absence of restraint to not be hampered or frustrated.
Produce the impossible to help my body jump off the frame and land in my wild imagination.
Help me transcend the laws of basic physics, to hop around in time and space and to skip from one dimension to the next.
Freedom, freedom, where are you?
Help me to have choice and to hop from dimension to dimension.
Liberate me from restraint or compulsion.
Help me to have my blood hum with a hint of you.
Free me from myself and set my soul on fire
Poet
Masego Nkuna
Guilt
Rides with separation
Peering into the past
Finding a story
Wrapped in shame..
Forgiveness seems
Distant with a doing
Of necessity
Blocking the way..
Separation's hold
Seems what is
Happening..which
May be the balm
Which is sought...
"Born William Henry McCarty, Jr. AKA, Billy the Kid or El Chivito, (Billy Goat/Kid). He had a younger brother named Joseph, and they both had an older sister named Bridget McCarty. Not much is known about the family other than the widow Catherine raised her son Billy before dying of tuberculosis. Also, him and his younger brother Joseph were arrested for an infraction (charged with stealing, that they claimed were items of necessity)," [A fictional parody] ... by Poet.
Famed Billy the Kid had a sister,
She dated his rival, who kissed her,
When asked if it's true,
Says what's it to you,
He took out his gun, shot, and missed her.
Now Billy the Kid's reputation,
Sees at risk without hesitation,
Hand still holds a gun,
Aimed own head shoots one,
Then, cried out in humiliation.
Sissy saw and ran off with her mouth,
Everybody in town heard her out,
With Billy, cash rolled,
Without him, no gold,
Town thought it best to put her lights out.
The Kid grabbed some dirt and had it thrown,
Fell on her coffin o'er a blank stone,
You folks ... you're to blame,
Her stone has no name,
We named the town after her, "Tombstone?"
Scintillating Dreams
Searching for magic, in everyday places
it was always well hidden
until you lit the way.
Now I see love, in surprising places
the most marvelous, your face.
Take me to your dreamland
we can combine our fantasies
build ourselves a castle
spread 'cross seas.
Together we'll let our souls free
filled with our own eternal bliss
with our favorite past memories
a place for only you and I.
Thoughts of your lover fresh on the palette of your mind
you answered my thoughts reassuringly and smiled.
"And I will always remember..."
When I recreate you, carved out of necessity
my world, only memorable moments.
Like your last laughter,
somewhere beyond this distance.
The minutes scurry by when I close my eyes,
Us, as lovers, envision fate, tangible.
A goddess, you are, your soft lips parted,
whiteness of gleaming pearls unraveled.
The sweetness and light have never left your face,
As, I look a little closer, just to be sure.
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