I seek deep truth at half past-twelve,
But find it hiding in the skokiaan again. (1)
IDA sighs again,'' know thy ale''. (3)
Phuza Face orders a second pail (2)
By dawn I've solved life's mystery grim
Its mostly froth with little brim.
So drink Majwalis,and think no more. (4)
The mind's a map,the heart
Explanation of a Pub Crawler's Philosophical terms and names
Skokiaan-an illicit home-brewed alcoholic drink made from yeast,sugar and water.Usually its consumption leads to loss of wallet,teeth,wife and kids.Devotees are especially not fond of water and general cleanliness.A nice smell
IDA- means I Drink All.This is said by someone who never buys you drink/alcohol.
Phuza Face- is a colloquial term for the physical effects of heavy or long term drinking resulting in which leads to swelling,puffiness,redness of the face,dark circles under the eyes.
Majwalis-He who is devotee of alcohol and alcoholism who drink himself to death and beyond.Usually a cheque collector. Has a phobia of not reporting for duty on Monday and Friday.
Bags under my eyes.
Are a horrible nothing.
Coffee for me right now…
Would help the globs of pasta sauce clear.
Under my eyelids.
The puffiness everlasts.
Jagged underneath.
One eye is sagging more.
One eye is worse.
That’s how they know it’s horrible.
That the eyes are uneven.
Coffee for me would be like dark matter clearing.
Bugs in my eyelids.
Not surprised, it’s just crawling.
My pulse sends out a message.
About evergreen trees up north.
Bags under my eyes.
Can’t surprise me.
The mirror just caves in.
Like globs of alien slime.
Coffee might be my only choice.
As I gravitate toward this mug.
Heavy as if it’s filled with metal shards.
But it’s empty again.
Tune by tune -The rain splashes
Splash after splash trickling down
The puffiness in the clouds the darken
With tranquility becoming me
I hear it's consistency and I see it
The raindrops everlasting in my mind
Brilliantly it's like a Melody
And it's signing a tune in my head
And the rain it challenges me instead
With the breathtaking beautiful sunny skies
Inspiring me and thus soon in time
They flood my id and thoughts
And I am truly loving inspiration
Of the conspiracy of our God
I see the beauty within and I reckon
This will be the day new born
I am knowing in my heart adoration
That as the earth miraculously nourishes
My beauteous garden will then grow
And with Gods national wonders
Bewildered - I then got to know
That as the rain dances like a tune
The flowers enhances boldly to the eye
And this rainy day , coming from our sky
I say blooms with personality
So the buds singing prominently in the rain
Against the silent window pane
And thus this beautiful reflection
Sings a tune , tune by tune ,my way
Bursting the beauty of a flower
With God the rain and it's power
What a beautiful song today.....
only clouds move by
sky full of white puffiness
gloom has set the mood
Margaret Atwood's: The Testaments
Offering to surf a periwinkle wave with broad sets of sprawls,
entertaining a receptive ivory sea of crested puffiness,
wooing anointing doves to joyously immerse creation,
toward its pure dawning rise of scriptures souls.
***I read some reviews, it's an intriguing read into the insights of womankind bearing upon a prophetic assemblage of the impending future -- I preface a muse entitled 'The Testaments' as a colorful introductory honoring her book sort-of-speak for newcomers -- unless they read 'Handmaid's....'
2019 September 14
*4th Place*
Arbitrium Divisa 4
~~Gregory R Barden
Referenced: The Testaments 09/11/2019
The Testaments
Behold, the essence of aubergine and a trail of sparkles yields the moment to radiant reds, like a breasted robin of autumns abandon legions in crumpled layers, impaled to moisten saffron petals and chartreuse fronds,
Strewn against a capricious path that points to a dusty field in white, ebbing the tides of a wintry breath, facing an arched hall of a supreme grandiose silken veiled sky,
It distributes elegance and beauty and cast it hither for its righteous placing, neath the surge of an ocher spread of sunflowers, that escort its mentored Sun,
Offering to surf a periwinkle wave, with broad sets of sprawls entertaining a receptive ivory sea of crested puffiness, wooing anointing doves to joyously immerse creation toward its pure dawning rise of scriptures souls.
2019 September 11
*1st Place*
Fall Into Fall
~~Chantelle Anne Cooke
Written by Gail DeBole
on October 12, 2017
Untrimmed puffiness,
Whiteness blends with blueness -
Mother Nature's glory.
Shutting my senses
Hermetically
Permanently
Decisively
for Vanity
Negativity
Conceit
Arrogance
Puffiness
Imagination
Witticism
Presumption
Crisis
Judgement
And while I'm doing this
I open my senses for love
Raising my mind
What is freedom?
Can you give me the perfect definition?
I've heard them say,
That it's a feeling like none other.
Like feeling the wind in your hair,
Or better yet, flying in the air.
What is freedom?
Can you give me the perfect definition?
Is it a state of mind?
Or actually a state of being?
The chains and walls around my heart,
Are becoming to hard to bare.
What is freedom?
Can you give me a perfect definition?
I'm tired of crying these tears,
And no one ever knowing or understanding.
The puffiness in my eyes,
Is making it hard to see.
What is freedom?
Can you give me the perfect definition?
Someone hand me a Webster,
Or better yet, let me search Google.
They still can't define,
The freedom I search for.
Freedom is peace,
Piece of mind,
Joy,
Can someone now bring me freedom?
Or is it simply a state of mind?
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