The Ripple
A place,
safe.
Close,
not far.
Here,
not there.
The storm,
relentless.
The power,
horrific.
The temper,
violent.
Children,
lost in the shuffle.
Made to be,
the pons in the game.
Walking the tightrope,
between houses,
like circus clowns,
without makeup,
but made up
to be...
Paper,
orders,
judges.
Screaming fights,
in the street.
A calm...
like death,
answered with blows.
The crowd now knows.
Abuse numbers have gone up while we have been in lockdown.
Prayers for those still trapped.
Categories:
pons, abuse, addiction, allah, angel,
Form: Narrative
Millennials standing most assured
need no knowledge of the war
Too evolved, won’t be anymore,
Yet lessons prevent they ignore
For war was long before their time
and now all are living fine
how or why not on their mind
assured all war is left behind
Oh how dumb and naive they sit
refusing vision to help predict
unlearning our repeated habit
as though a choice to conflict
See war is not always chosen
the survivors are not selected
War is a need to oppose them
Survive or naturally rejected
Every century, every place,
every grouping, every race,
every intention, every faith,
war returns, war we face
And war will kill the ignorant
wipe them out so fast
ignorance to war and,
it’ll be your last
You won’t evolve just follow circles
overtime repeat resurface
think you’re clever, just a circus,
your attitude, your life, surplus
They who think they don’t need war
will perish and be no more
refusing know-how ignorant course
destined to lay dead on floors
See war is not what we want
but it is what we do
stop being a millennial pons
unintelligent and screwed
Categories:
pons, conflict, education, history, memorial
Form: Rhyme
As the lovely soverign angel cloud awakens
Each mystical catalyst emigres , to one cocoon light
Shimmering wings, soft spiritual each soft night
Visions quest her benevolent one returns in the twilight
Look closely as his spirit merges with one aquarian
The tribal legend brings her regal flight
Inspiration body, soul, mind
Timeless quest he journey each night to her
Thus she calls to the revered skies
With each fading light his scared light comes
His name known to many "Pathfinder"
He carries thus , the winged angel being
You have shared a thousand tears with me
I opened my soul long ago, to be with thee
To lay pons' mother earths canopys
Each souls seed to savor, my darlings tears to me
You touched me within my inner spirit glow
You share it always with me, kindred tenderly
My soul feels apart as it opens at nigh
Tears ,soul of jasper moonlights hauntings waves
You have counted stars while I kissed you
Soft lighted kiss almost immortal
The hands of my truest being
I love you , my immortal love
Categories:
pons, love, light, angel, angel,
Form: Free verse
Beneath the white veil, I lie with waiting arms to greet your kiss
Starlight eyes to see the goodness and serenity of thy lips
I feel softness upon my silky sonnet skin
With love felt in my soul, My spirit feels you within
Beneath the white veil, I feel each touch
I know its true love with each fragile delicate smile
Radiant floral plumes lay in hearts tile
I feel each prelim kiss
Cascading lumious rain falls gently pons' my temple
Misty beaches fill my whole being
My hearts choice
My bright sunset sacred vows
Beneath the white veil, I await to be your loving one
To feel you near, to be at your side
I'll be seeing you in all familiar places
Categories:
pons, husband, love,
Form: Free verse
The city spreads its streets like long
Tentacles that stretch and twine,
As looming Evil weaves a webbed design
Around the bustling, London throng.
But North of Marble Arch is bleak
Praed Street, where the shadows gloom,
And Solar Pons sits musing in his room
Of criminals he’ll subtly seek.
Categories:
pons, art
Form: Verse
Oh, I want to escape you; though, you’re my escape.
Pons Varolii signals begin to take shape.
I could never determine if white or if black.
You pull me to safety and push me right back.
You tell me great stories of visions untrue,
But at the close of the night demand payment due.
I’ve yet to determine a new way to cope.
I’m selling my soul for the mere glimpse of hope.
All joy that I feel is revealed to be fake.
Sleep away sweet, sweet child; may you never awake.
Categories:
pons, depression, sadme, me,
Form: Rhyme