My mind is tribal, I hunt in the mud and slurry,
I track the stars in a wooden chariot
made from the ribs of a blood-clan crib.
My thoughts are armored, yet as articulated
as any youthful flesh, they cannot be washed,
or manipulated, I have an ax for every hand
against them, a caress for those
who choose to fight on the battlefield
of inspiring ideas,
a painted arrow and shield to defend
the commandments of ever-mutating gods.
A green tree within a high mountain
is my mind, a solar flare of endless creation
are my barbaric prayers,
the same orisons that now civilize the corrupt
and morally spent.
I am the heart of existence, my tribal markings
cannot be scrubbed away, by smooth-skulled
manikins or the slick prattle
of any grandiose legion.
Categories:
orisons, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Giving Godly Grace
Giving Godly grace calls us to walk
In God’s sweet embracing footsteps of mercy’s tears,
Vital in vivacity grace births the soul of eternal vitality,
Infused gratuity – no small tokens but tips of profound charity –
Gracious orisons from the Master’s overflowing favor.
Grace glimpses Genesis’ handwriting spoken - it is good -
Oblation in offertory pushing aside offense askance -
Dawning grace glazes gates locked by incense taken
Lifting us up, like a Samaritan lifts the wounded from shared dust
Yielding pride’s stubbed toes of smug rightness to yesterday.
Grace - gift of perfection intoned in pure harmony –
Raised relief, benediction’s signature written
An apple of God’s eye handed to us in ribbons of forgiveness,
Consecrated on two wooden beams at the edge of oblivion,
Endowed with eternal favor – gift for us to exchange again and yet again.
5-18-21
Contest: Giving Godly Grace Acrostic
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Categories:
orisons, blessing, giving, god, life,
Form: Acrostic
When divine’s grace, stroked hair and kissed forehead
Euphorically immersed in ecstasy
When humming breeze smoothed solitude
Weeping heart filled with orisons
When rays of hope percolated in being
Tears of pleasure coursed down on cheeks
When tied limbs broken twines
Suppressed desires floated on sky
When hymns of bliss reverberated in air
Canyons of mind filled with flowers
When feathers of love patted on back
Distorted being solaced in self
When last moment passed in hurry
Me......the light, drowned in ecstasy
Categories:
orisons, allusion,
Form: Free verse
At the sound of the national lullaby
My face will I hide, O Kirinyaga
Will sleep not
Your notes laden with saline saliva
hammer and bore my ears,
your thoughts unfathomable
I have lost my breath loving you
because my name stems from you
Yet you chide me with your shadows
that cover my path to you.
O Kirinyaga,
You will no longer see orisons at your crest
Your hump is a forbidding climb
I chide you, Kirinyaga
Categories:
orisons, abuse, analogy, august, ,
Form: Verse
It pirouettes in the air,
the raison d'être for a black man's inimitability.
Something that keeps a black man bleeding
by a black man's thrust.
As if by some twisted
Divine stratagem,
he was fated to kneel
that hour, on that coast,
with peeling grits grinding
into his patellae,
and limbs begging for shackles.
A piece of mirror for
a thousand shackles.
I see them when
I close my eyes, on nights
damp as the dirge they sing.
I wave like the palms to
the hollow hums that snake along
with the creek.
I see them in Badagry
wearing chains and faces
that tell no tale.
Ghost faces that run rivers,
embracing subtle winces; gifted by
lashing fibres,twisted like
Aduke's traverse.
I swear she never cries,
even when the blows land.
Only she whistles her tale secretly to the water
and chants orisons that mount the skies.
A prayer of good will for kith, and
good fortune for kin.
Foremost, her heart in urge shrouds the son.
May his ship run
ashore somefate void of fetters.
A hundred years later,
the son yet rots in manacles,
sniffing white addiction.
Categories:
orisons, africa,
Form: Free verse
I recollect the dark nights, worst nights, worst days, Dem nights, black Wednesday,
My happiness that nightfall was the worst and last case I would love not to recollect,
Damn! I couldn’t kip! I couldn’t have those fantasy dreams of Mars either!
That wasn’t what I wanted or wished for neither hoped for,
Damn! I was feeble, moist, and above all, agony,
That’s when! I needed Princess #8ryan’z fingers, to fill the gaps in between mine, I got none,
That’s when! I needed soft words which shouldn’t have broken my bones, I got a few,
That’s when! I needed Orisons, I got many reaching through to the end of my eyes,
With all that, still I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t do a thing on black Wednesday,
But Hey! My life was already surrounded by good wines that gave me wide hope,
And later on, the next nightfall, I flourished in wander land,
Now, that I don’t want to talk about it,
Ama do some changes ‘Cause black Wednesday has been set free as a marked mural.
In Memory of Aunt Auke
© T.m.T.s
Categories:
orisons, dedication, memorial day,
Form: Ode
To be spoken silently
In that unpleasant tumult
Lurking behind the facade
He does not suspect in what wild fear
He'll join with her in a fatal play
Thus he sees his life as
an outrageous fortune
Like thunder shuttering orisons
The demented contempt of a puny mind
Repudiated into self negation
And subjugated himself into an empty shell
Infused into such subjective depositions
That leaves him with no refuge
Categories:
orisons, life,
Form: Alliteration
Shuffling this scope of limited perceptions; their visions..
Crossing her celestial, scintilating skies; deep inside tubular
Chimes lifting amid the breeze to these, tranquil orisons ? Subliminally
Marked emotions rising in state; bay windows dismissing chains; silvertone's rustic tides
Receding, from time's shores before my eyes; portent clarities bearing a Spirits wings
To fly beyound their breakwater whirlpools, vortex designs ? Breathtaking
Inversions encapulating this heart as solipsism flees and the eclipse of but once
Paradoxic's moon, now utters her revelations touchstone moments ? Beckoning myself
Aneath certitudes apex in parallel's reasons; these, realms about love's cloistered heavens
Wherein beauty does, so reside ? Tubular chimes lifting amid the breeze; subliminally marked
Emotions afore bay windows and her silvertones, scintilating skies; bearing, wings to fly....
Beyound His colour splashed canvas of pastels, immortal stardust ? A twenty-first century love song.
Categories:
orisons, angel, art, autumn, love,
Form: I do not know?
To Get Or Not To Get
by Odin Roark
To be
Or
Not to be
May not be the question
For is it not nobler
To suffer slings and arrows
Of outrageous fortune
In order for empowerment
To discover one needn’t
Take up arms against a sea
Of troubles merely to oppose them
But to manage them
Might outrageous fortune’s only reward
Be to die
To sleep
To realize the rub?
For in death by riches
What dreams may come
Atop one’s mortal coil
Having been shuffled off?
Such must give us pause
To get or not to get
Begs solemn discretion
And being prudent
Of what we ask for
May allow our satisfied needs
To serve well our bearing of ills we have
Rather than fly to others
We know not of
Soft you now fair holiday—nymph
In thy orisons
Be all my bafflement remembered
Categories:
orisons, holiday,
Form: Free verse
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shuffling this scope of limited perceptions their visions
Crossing the celestials scintilating skies; deep inside tubular
Chimes lifting in the breeze to these tranquil orisons
Subliminally marked emotions rising in state; bay windows dismissing chains....
Silvertones rustic tides, receding from the shores before my eyes
Portent clarities bearing a Spirits wings to fly ~
Beyond the breakwater whirlpools vortex designs!?
Breathtaking inversions encapulating this heart as solipsism flees
And the eclipse of the once paradoxic moon now utters her
Revelations touchstone moments....
Beckoning myself aneath certitudes apex of parallel reasons these
Realms amid the cloistered heavens wherein, beauty does so reside ~
Tubular chimes lifting in the breeze, subliminally marked emotions afore
Bay windows in silvertones scintilating skies; bearing, wings to fly beyond
The colour splashed canvas of pastels immortal, stardust....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
.."?A 21st Century, 'Love Song!'"..
Categories:
orisons, hope, life, love, emotions,
Form: I do not know?