daisy summer and innocence
as the sweat glistens on the skin
when i'm cycling down the street
running with the pace of wind
spread my wings like a parachute
on a summer afternoon
music in my ears as i passes by the sea shore
as the flowers dances near the coast
one night a fire broke out
in my dreamland
the stars that i glued to the ceiling
they all fell down
after burning like a comet
and crashing onto me like a weight i must carry
voices buried deep in the ground
and ashes sprinkled into the river,
i'm suffering from a melancholic fever
where my day appears gloomy and night midnight blue
in the shade of moonlight obscured by fog
the ghosts of the dead and almost forgotten,
they all comes back to life,
to haunt and live in the colour of november
dear readers
let me be an invitee to read these files
about the same place where you live but
chose to live in complete denial
don't be a traitor, don't ignore the cries
this place gave you oxygen, water, air and
every source meant for your survival
even in the adversity of times
dear readers
our house is on fire, the ice is melting
you're breathing smoke, and million species at risk
and each day a new revelation in these files
the man who drink champagne after
signing deals that harm your land
he lives in a palace built by his greed
while the future generations search for their place
hold the rope tight, never let go of a safe hand
the journey ahead is far too brutal to make sense
what once seemed fated, shall shatter one's hopes
the idea of love was born from a poet's thought
lover's rose from the ashes to finish their lovelorn stories
heart wrapped in barbed wire yet still beating-
for the one who will break my heart
uncover new truths in each arc
Felt this uneasy tide of disdain
the world around me seems too mundane
eyes have lost the shine
lost the path I never knew was mine
this seems like a never-ending dream
heard an encroaching scream
uneasy rhythm oozing from these pores
saw a reaching hand, but it was all too blurry
salt brimming the eyes, my lies swallowing me inside
never heard the pounding so high
looked up my vision, all to my dismay
there stood a girl too scared to witness
all these secrets too heavy to bear
these scratches stand in valor
showing the darkest of nights
still hoping for something that might...
Written: April 22, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whimsical whispers of spring wallow,
Awakening from nature's languid tingle.
You were maundering to strike back,
A euphonic kaleidoscope garden bloom.
Switching back won't suffice this time,
Changing seasons can't be tucked away.
In the depths of the spring warmth,
Embedded in the depths of your being.
Whispered by Equinox, an alias I once knew,
We are in a nexus by a motley thread.
In a world so bright, all else fades away,
I'll remain adorned in pristine periwinkle.
Gus shook his head and began pairing
everyone up in teams...
Then, WailersWitch walked in.
Followed closely by EllenDegenerate
who was sniffing behind WailersWitch
and snaking the air with her forked tongue
between her fingers.
Degenerate had a shirt on that suspiciously
resembled buildings at Little St. James Island,
a resort for orphans that she contributed to.
Then, Michael Ofelellah walked in with RufePal,
"we're here and we're ...
we choreographed the White Houses Nutcracker
for the White Powder Holidays, now, it's time to get something black!
They opened a mini dome of the rock
box and inside was a demon.
Yes, from inside, popped out
WhoopieCushionPatsy, her dirty
dreadlocks dangled in the air
with filthy pride that reminded one
of a dust storm swirling magically
in a sewage treatment plant, swirling waste
and racing them like Americas Cup.
"Anybody getting a good view of my anti-white princessness, yes it is truly ME!"
Michael cut in, cut the crap Whoopie,
we have a world to subdue before Hillary hogs it all...
LizPiggo began gobbling up the bodies of the four Cartel members. "What"! Her newly aware look at her comrades, questioned in a somewhat hurt and astonished manner, their judgmental attitudes. "We have to get rid of the evidence!" She whipped out a bottle of Uncle Ray's barbecue sauce and a salt and pepper combo shaker,
some Country Crock (churn style),
a napkin wrapped utensil set, a kids pool plastic makeshift toilet, (which she was going to hand to Shroomer, because he was full of hot air, but remembered he was now an assailant/fugitive in their circle), instead she french kissed Rosie Odonut and said, "if you blow up this beach and get your lips warmed up I will split the last two with you", while winking. When she fashioned her table cloth bib in place (so she wouldn't stain her beautiful Sunday dress) she was rock em sock em-and ready to go.
Gus shook his head and began pairing everyone up in teams...Then, WailersWitch walked in...
Imagine a world that
Could have been
A little more rural
Of forest and green
Steam is the power
Coal is still king
And they rely a lot
On the clockwrk spring.
A much slower world
As Shires pull loads
Along its network of
Near empty roads.
Canals are still busy
Towpaths are still clear
Though it’s more likely
Steam barges will appear..
Eyes closed to imagine
Let your brain give birth
To that concept of
My alternative Earth.
If you are now ready
To accept that scene
Then I’ll tell you my stories
Of what might have been.
SILHOUETTE (1/23) — PROLOGUE
Dark silhouette
Solitary glimpses;
Mystic moments
~~~~~
Word writes
Feel firm cite
Take a bite
See the light
Bring new sight
Cheer fits
Calm crisp wit
In fond bits
Learn to know
Glimpse of flow
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
08 January 2021
Singapore
No more civility! For now, before that historic doom,
To fathomless, dark perdition let’s hurl their big-assed b.i.t.c.h.e.s.*
For such filthy creatures on earth there ought to be left no room.
These shameless global terrorists that in quest of dream riches
Have settled in the Middle East for almost a hundred years
Now with Heaven’s sure assistance we shall cast into ditches.
They ascribe to us their own name and the sleeping world that hears
Approves of their barefaced slaughters — regrettably — and terrors.
No more tolerance! Let’s show them what then in both hemispheres
Real terror is! Cows of the world do not see the grave errors
In the nuclear conventions. They have lost a dearest horse
But ignore the beast and look for its saddle. What peace-carers!
Arms are deemed bad but who on earth has ever exerted force
Against the red-handed butchers who possess them and use them?
No more delay! Mercy on them shall surely lead to remorse.
11.29.2020
* Mike Pompeo, Mike Pence, Donald Trump, Benjamin Netanyahu, and Arab petty puppets
No comments, please!
The west winds of springtime
Brought forth April showers
That rained on the pavements
Of Southwick for hours.
It was standing room only
And full to the brim
As people sought shelter
At the old Tabard Inn.
A man with a top hat
Sat staring in space.
There was illness and sadness
Etched deep in his face.
A man with a fob watch
Was seen swapping gold
For a bottle of whisky
Before facing the cold.
A woman sighed deeply
Then laughed with a guest
While sipping tap water
And winning at chess.
There was no chef so no food
Since that dark violent day
When the innkeeper watched him
Being stretchered away.
So the sailor (being followed)
Missed having his tea,
And drank five pints of real ale
Before leaving for sea.
Immerse yourself in the dark
For this is a long and haunting journey we are about to embark
We will travel through the deepest trenches of your mind
And resurface all those painful memories you wanted to leave behind
This is not a tale of happily ever after
There will be no lasting happiness; no light hearted laughter
Do not be fooled by a dark heart masked in beautiful verse
No moment of felicity will go unharmed by this curse
So please, if you’ve come for wholesome rainbows and butterflies
I beg you close this book before every ounce of your innocence dies
The tap in my mind incessantly drips
Some fresh words which spill on to the paper.
From my quiet repose, an idea slips
And, taking shape, it begins to taper
Into lines of verse, a comforting sound
Suffusing the mind. It hurries along
With rhythm and rhyme, within and around
The place in daily life where thoughts belong.
They nestle warmly in comfort and peace,
Ideas growing into varied verse
Whose words will bring a poetic release;
Then in a breath, they begin to disperse.
I cherish the gift so clearly defined,
Expressing in words the thoughts of the mind.
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