The Failure
It is about vanity, a need to see one's name in print
The shortest of glory, five seconds, ten?
Switch off at that point of glory, and the fame can last
until someone else demands to use the tablet
A book of poetry, published in a small town in India
61 pages, and the editor and owner of the press
tells us the poems are great, not panegyrical, but ok
Sitting down to read one's thoughts only to discover
misspelling and less elegant sentences, what
The eyes had not seen before glared up with a smirk
Oh, the shame of this must keep it a secret, not tell
Should anyone ask, say the book was not published
this year and turn the talk to something else, like
The high electricity prices
appetizers are not uncomplimentary
they are food for gods and primitive man.
The ape is the apex as
Blood and Oranges are exceptionally
eulogistic pleasing to the soul
Down, down, down into the darkness of memory,
Gently they go - the panegyrical, the praiseful, boastful mammal…
Pay attention to the me, in I, not the We in thy?
the human soul is the most warm thought of all.
HOW near god is such a thing,
To get me wondering if death is lukewarm, or a mutual reality.
How happy is the ape a prime mate of man!
Down, down, down into the darkness of the soul,
Gently it goes - the littler, the diminutive, nothing at all.
Nothing escapes this divinity
Or overturns this reality…
Today i am writing
lyrically satirically
no not a miracle
empirically panegyrical
clovened hoof maybe
i am
Standing at the edge of forever
as one thought leads to hell
for I stare at the empty never
the other to a heavenly dwell
I must choose before the eyes of infinity
my soul torn between the hallucinogen hollow
passing through the vector vicinity
where dreams are created for me to swallow
Seeing visions of a hellion hive
soon thoughts fill with divinities divine
a conspiratorial conscience before I dive
where ambient angels dance and dine
Still I must choose before the end of time
a perplexing panegyrical pantomime.
Sept.16.2019
Crossroads Poetry
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
Within the warmth of wandering words lies the breath of God
His blessing upon panegyrical pages that my pens have clawed
For inside each liberated letter a cerebral of celestial creation
With no beginning no end to its magnanimous manifestation
His words that spew out like relentless radiating rivers ranting
In the waking wisdom of sculpturesque seeds forever planting
But with the word like a hammer can boldly build and destroy
Let’s choose our thoughts well before we deliberatively deploy
Warrior writers work with God in their panoptical pensive play
To successfully spread His Love thru words in a Biblical bouquet
For all the poets that speak through Him, I will adoringly applaud
Confessions of obsessions writing words from the breath of God.
July.19.2017
OBSESSION
Sponsored by: Silent One
Seduced by the selective solitudes...I pick one
I chose the 100th... amongst the sacrificial setting sun
Frost filled frozen forests...forever frowning
As my breath spreads thru the vastness...forever drowning
Tic toc tic toc...my thoughts trapped in an elliptical time
100 years of solitude... panegyrical punishment for my crime
What am I guilty of?...daring to...Love!
TITLES OF NOVELS - Poetry Contest
By nette onclaud
One Hundred Years Of Solitude ( Gabriel Marquez Garcia)
June.10.2016
My form...a mixture of alliteration, rhyme and free verse.
Rhyme scheme aabb,cc,...d
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