Lord, you see...
Everything...
When I don't understand or my heart is too heavy to speak,
When my compassion overrides my logic,
Or when I still give beyond people's ill judgement,
When I close my ears and block out opinions,
Because I know many can be shallow without knowing the reasons,
I have fought for underdogs many times,
And when I have seen the truth underneath they're ways I've cried,
That not everyone and everything I see,
Is truly what everybody labels it to be,
And it's the harder path to take and easier to walk away,
And many will turn their noses up to you, and shun you the same way,
But my heart cannot ignore the love of your voice,
Because I know love is not just a feeling, it's a choice,
Hate is more potent than Love
as is darkness more awesome than light,
Silence’s more deafening than sound
Vice is more enticing than virtue
as is knowledge more enlightening than faith,
Passion overrides piety
Malevolence outbeats benevolence
as is brute more awe-inspiring than beauty.
Death is absolute
as is life fleeting,
The fear of hell
outweighs the bliss of heaven.
As are nights and days,
Life and death rotate in sync
complimenting each other,
One cannot exist without the other,
As is with good and evil
love coevals with hate —
you cannot choose one without other,
the outcome is correspondingly synonymous.
The devil is god’s alter ego,
The devil almost always
outscores god,
God fares better as the devil…
Damning and bedeviling mankind
for his own devilish delight!
2025.2.4
Today, I accidentally overrides one of my poem.
Now, it is gone.
Can I retrieve it? Maybe?
From my head, my heart or my memory?
I wished I have saved it on the USB.
So I would not loose it.
People make all sort of promises.
They hardly keep any of it.
Every where I go,
It seems troubles will follow.
How was that so?
I really don't know.
I always try to keep my profile low.
I love to travel, even on my own.
Met lot of people, as the trip ended,
Some of them, became my friends.
They called me every now and then,
We travel again.
To me, a good friend is someone,
Who was able to treat one another,
With respect, honesty and speak kind words.
Words cost nothing to the speaker,
Uses nice words to please each other.
It is easy said than done,
People forget all that, when they are upset.
That was it my friends.
Goodbye, till we meet again.
Everybody has a past.
Everyone makes their mistakes.
But they are not there to last.
Time heals wounds that judgement makes.
Human, we are all only...
So it is safe assuming that
We can leave our errors lonely
At the drop of our said hat.
Pencils have their rubbers and
White out corrects our pen.
Backspace with a keyboard hand...
Now overrides back then.
There is a saying - that best cold...
Revenge served in its dish.
But then I think, when I grow old
Will this still be my wish?
Dwelling on my yesterday
Will not see me get anywhere.
All I can do is make my way
Using today to get me there.
When it comes to what has been
On those otherwise cloudy days,
Any storms that I have seen
And lived through, my mind can erase.
I ring my bell
So you can run and flee,
And I bear my cloak
To keep you safe from my disease.
Never once have I felt a gentle touch
Or heard kind words from a stranger
For fear overrides all sympathy.
You say I am lucky
That I get to stay in my home—
As long as I forever ring my bell—
But I don’t call that “luck”,
I call that basic humanity:
Something that is meant for everyone.
Now, like a criminal
Who bears the obvious marks of prison,
I am given a wide berth
Whilst I wander forevermore;
Ringing my bell again and again
Until that is all I can hear.
And, just to be kind upon your mortal eyes,
I wear the black cloak you gave me
So you will never have to see
My hideous face—
Though I am forced to stare at yours.
I'm concerned with the lack of common sense;
it's notably missing when needed most.
And while its absence comes at our expense,
nothing else can match it, not even close.
It once would mitigate anger, hate, and greed;
lately, however, it has been a no-show.
I pray for its return in thought and deed;
if it's still relevant, I'd like to know.
It could untangle impossible knots;
after all, common sense overrides lies.
But it's missing; try connecting the dots;
is that why anarchy is on the rise?
Everything your heart desires,
All that for you life requires,
Can be boiled down to one thing,
That in this gift resides.
Want you not the treasured things,
That others crave - like diamond rings,
And cars and riches and the rest,
But in this gift abides....
A luscious hoard of dazzling hue;
Blinding, lavish and for you...
The symbol of your deepest thirst,
Which this gift satisfies.
No more will your heart palpitate,
Nor will you capitulate;
To trivialities of life,
That this gift overrides.
So go forth quenched and full to brim,
No longer are you the victim.
Of unrequited longing for,
That which this gift provides.
In this your palindromic year,
Despite how rancid you appear.
With finger raised and scowl affront.
We gift this gift besides.
Babies hear their Mom's voice from in the womb;
forming a bond that will last a lifetime.
When a fetus stretches and kicks for room,
Mom's voice overrides anxiety's climb;
sowing seeds of love that will grow and bloom.
When your Mom's beating heart is all you feel;
its rhythm pulsating throughout your body.
And although her heartbeat seems surreal,
It beat calms you, nourishes your body,
and keeps your soul tethered to what's real.
Mom is love, hope, and trust rolled into one;
nurturing, and influencing your life.
And a mother's love cannot be outdone,
different from that of husband or wife;
it is reserved for a daughter or son.
Families provide for a baby's needs,
fathers give them strength; mothers offer love.
And therefore, there's nothing that supersedes
a mother's love, for like God up above,
her greatest desire is that you succeed.
Nothing can prepare you for that feeling
of helplessness as you watch your Mom die.
Her death's palpable and leaves you reeling,
your first impulse is to curl up and cry;
such pain requires a lifetime of healing.
Black poison mist overrides
mystery moonbeams in misery,
the howling of beast and worms
swallow the remnants of your hollow
sphere. Do the parts of our end
qualify the price of your beginnings?
Are you a worthless apostle, sinner
sadist or saint? Which side of a human
canvas reveals your paint? We'd like to
be Dorian, impervious to faint before
that torrid portrait, its touch never to taint.
Immortality is a trance, a worthless dance
that treads a death like an impermanent
romance, deeds doth done. A lost path to
that paradise of exalted traitors, evildoers,
users and takers, all and none.
A new day has opened its doors,
Hope braces for a leap,
Despondency stands on all fours,
Courage has rested on its oars,
Faith is prepared for a shrewd reap,
Light makes a gradual creep.
A new day as clean as a slate,
It awaits our imprint,
The floodgates opened stand in wait,
Faith stands beside to advocate,
Each day and time has its blueprint,
Let’s light up every splint.
A new day overrides twilight,
Dawn rolls out its carpet,
We walk no more in the moonlight,
Shadows are dispersed by sunlight,
Morning heralds with its trumpet,
Not held in the tar pit.
June 20, 2022,
Dewdrops Poetry Contest,
Angel L Villanueva.
Ya wanna go on the chase?
Ya better pick up your pace!
This guy knows what it takes.
Warmed up and ready to race.
Got body and mind ready to go.
Take a long look at this gun show.
Been grinding hard, putting in reps.
Racking up miles & tracking steps.
Slowly amping up the difficulty.
Running overrides for atrophy.
Gaining mass full of raw power.
Taxing my limits at least an hour.
It takes consistency, effort and time.
To grow strength that looks sublime.
Showing both on the inside and out.
Punching that fat right in the snout.
At bed stretching it loose to wind down.
Feel the growth pains, willing to frown.
Recovery stacking up the lean tissue.
The nonstop uphill journey is my issue.
The end of this is nowhere to be seen.
Sliding into a force of fibers that’s lean.
Supporting this life and all my dreams.
To be the best I can be for all my teams.
DAWN'S ROSE GARDEN
In the twilight of my dawn
At night, the shimmering lights of the stars
Form your lovely face, which smiles
Peacefulness upon my resting place
Only your voice can ease my pace and satisfy my taste
Only your voice can erase the loneliness I feel inside
When I awaken, you are still ever present in my thoughts
Our first kiss seemed the hardest, both of us wanted it, but feared rejection
Only your voice can remove the trouble from my thoughts
Only your voice can share my struggle and bare my strength
Tentatively, we touched and looked, until the desire to know
Overrides any fear and we took the plunge
Only your voice can lift my spirits and create restful sleep
As dusk reclaims my dawn, only your voice still gives
Without judging and loves without speaking
All my life I have lived in solitude,
Either shielded from the world in shame,
Or publicly displayed
But only ever acknowledged when I’m to be used.
My sole purpose on this dirtied earth
Is the bring back the worth
Of the seas and the birds,
But my time on this planet
Has taught me the fact that
People only care
If it’s them that in affects, in fact,
I’m meant to be used,
It’s my purpose, my worth,
Yet the greed of humans
Overrides their need to hurt me.
It only affects me.
Either I or our home,
Its one or the other,
Either me or the globe.
If you had to pick one,
Please use me for your waste.
The state of our planet
Is a well disguised disgrace.
So please.
Use me, abuse me, do what you must,
I look upon this world in disgust
At the actions of humanity.
If you must be selfish,
Make sure it only affects us.
Do not let the future generations suffer
Due to your mistaken trust in the efforts of others.
I may only be a bin,
But my purpose is much purer.
So don’t throw away your chance
At a better and brighter future.
Swirling smoke, coming undone in cool august air,
I'll have an unmarked grave-so long as your lips are my last lair;
A hazy dive deep in trenches of your chest,
closest to your heart-an otherwise impossible quest;
designs worth turning ashes for.
if unscathed, is it even amor?
How my etched footprints are charred-my
only residue, now your breaths marred.
Just brief blazed affairs, where passion overrides prudence, sensibility triumphs senses.
The days become
a battle has won
elated, surprisingly sounded
begun
a war so deep
in the night hours
sleep, now awakened
kneeling, praying
not delaying
Victorious overrides
the will and strength to survive
humbled and meek
rise above
precious genuine love
Victorious.
The joyful hours
Victorious
Moments of silence
A great result ending
A newer beginning
Victorious.
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