Its drawing a trolling? A play by J K is sure unfolding.'
As she puts out to grass, the stubboness of all asses.!
In a lesson to all nations, she's standing at her station.'
Even though (i'm not a fan) I can see she's sure of reality
As a woman 'with sand' thats what i see.' She has marked
Out, her t e r f.' May each roll of the surf. Break open the Hard shores as its all; there to live for!! Be a straight out
Master, not a squeaking; and real pule-ing disaster.'
Why worry about what the future brings?
Tomorrow's just another day, they say,
No need to pout, and pule, and pine away.
Instead, I'll relish this day's offerings,
Anticipate tomorrow's profferings,
And strive to keep all gloomy thoughts at bay,
And let the future bring me come what may.
With fortitude I'll weather fortune's stings.
I may not always know the world's largesse,
But sure's the sun keeps rising and setting,
And sure's the world continues its spinning,
Worry is no way out of hopelessness.
A chance to renew, the past forgetting,
Each day's reward is a new beginning.
Author's note: I'm not by nature a worrier, but I do try to build on the past and plan for the future.
In days of yore a lady's heart was won
Through chivalry and deeds of derring-do.
If swain proved false, she'd bid the knave be gone,
Adjust her cap and look for someone new.
By age fifteen a maid was in her prime,
Her window for a spouse a narrow slit.
She could not pule and pine for love sublime,
And oft as not would take what she could get.
When knight set out to win his lady fair,
Through joust or other mortal combat act,
He knew that love for him she would forswear
Lest he prevailed with manly parts intact.
Today true love is not so much a chore,
And less dramatic than in days of yore.
Sphanus Marcus Book 1
Canto 5
Verses 6 and 7
Duke Saint Charles knew King Richard’s mind was closed
and nothing he could say would change resolve.
To cold foul weather they would be exposed;
must he have life around the king revolve?
This heinous decision now might dissolve
joint resolution gaining James the throne.
As aide to Sire, indeed it might involve
the decisions of others made to loan
their weight allying needs to covert scheme well sown.
" This be unmitigated horror, Sire,
to sail the Middle Sea this time at Yule.
Contentious gales from northern heights do mire
good enterprises; be not, Sire, a mule!
Do I not suffer 'Mal de Mer' and pule?
Such sail gives me bad stomach ache and puke.
You know that I can't take much ridicule.
Should I at sea endure our Sire's rebuke?
Duke Morley's knight for thee or take Lord Marmaduke."
Where does the heart travel when it has no home?
Who does it beat for when the pule is not so strong?
What does it cry out for?
Is she returning the same pulse I'm giving off...
The heart beat of another is what I want to feel
I want to know who she is
To understand that...
I can only compensate once she have placed her heart in my palms
These hands of mines that want to captivate her forever and ever
Where does the pulse goes when I'm laying in bed at night
Still...
No movements but heavy breathing
Is it trying to reach her?
Can it reach her?
The heart is a funny thing
It wants what it wants
and I want her
No words need to be spoken
But our body language can converse
No sexual intermission
But the signature of two hands intertwining
Tel me...
Where does the heart goes once the house is open?
W A R
Before I was a foetus
The world was at war
Our forefathers forced to fight
For it was all irresistible
Now I have grown
And I’m dragged to a fight I did not ignite
A war which I do not know if it will end
In the front line we fear for our lives
Gone through hills and mountains
The soles in our boots ran out
Food and water were all we needed
A journey we never prepared for
The smell of gun powder fills the air
Empty gun shells carpet the ground
War vehicles smoking and left to rot
The battle have seized
Waking to the sound of gun shots we tremble in fear
Day and night we do not know the difference
For the enemy does not rest
But my enemy is a man like me
How many deaths must we suffer?
How many forests must we bring down?
How many generations must pay for our forefather’s faults?
How long can our race really endure this suffering?
By: Bokamoso N. Pule
CRY OF THE UNBORN
Before I was formed in
my mother’s womb
He held my hand and
called my name
And now I am to return
to him as innocent
Without sin I go to my
heavenly father
Before I saw the light in
the world
Before taking my first
breath, nor having my
first tooth
I was extinguished
Batted and murdered
I was sentenced to death
Like a soldier sent to war
My mission was cut short
For my talents and skills
can never be of any use
What will I report to ma
creator
For my cry shall pierce the
heavens
And my tears shall fill the
earth
My sorrow shall solidify
their hearts
And my voice will never
be heard among the living
By: B. N. Pule
Goring down, shredding tears, I pule to,
give my prayer, to all family's and
friends, missing or gone, across this
blanket world, as her gusty winds flare,
and ragging rapids spill, these islands in
darkness, I will not lye here,
silenced, for she was,
"PLANNED" drapping curtains,
where our moon mysteriously a
lined itself, mutationally, reins, and
deploys,explosions of fear, I say,
don't give in, break her free, don't
be, A coward less coward, to their deceit,
and lies, these politicians, we call
democrats n' republicans, don't
really,give A RATS ASS, as long
as,they get voted, I ask stand for
what's right to your heart, therefore
she can not win this glory, and ask
your government why???? Priceless
lives pay, in A test on the country
so that they may have control....
That's the question.... But I will not
bow, I give my hand to the
innocence, of THE PEOPLE.......
To shelter them with love and blessings, that I
Rein.....For I shall ride A pon my black knight.....
As We defeat it, like a skyscraper...
Carma
10-30-12
POETRY IS OUR NAUTURE N'
STRIDE,(LIFE..) TO LET GO!!
EACH PEN STROKES A UNIQUE
*POWER* VIBRANTLY BLASTED
COULOR: EN~SYNCED WORDS,
JUST DIFFRENTLY EX*
PRESSED..(IMAGINABLE!!)
WE STAND ON FIRMED LAND;
FULL OF LOVE N' NOT HATE;
WE PULE N' LAUGH, BEING
SERIOUS OR JOKE AROUND:
WE'RE EQUALLY ABANDONED,
BUT AGAIN PICKED~UP BY A LOVING
HANDED STRANGER IN
STRENGTH.... AGAINST INK
SPILLED... WHERE WE ARE TRUSTED
IN LOYALTY AND GATHERED
THOUGHTS TO EXPLORE THIS
WORLD WE ONCE DESPIZED; A
MAXIMUM EXPLOSSION OF JOY
N' CHEER, ALL SEEMS SO
CLEAR ON LOVE OF THE SOUP
(*FAM..*) ATMOSPHERE*
UNITED*TING!!! INKS PENNED;
AS ONE...COME JOIN US...
THIS IS A TRIBUTE TO ALL
SOUP (*FAM..*)
WRITEN BY: SWEETHEART
CARMA 06-19-12
INSPIRED BY:
BRITTANY MaD InK CalDwELl;
PACE, G "INK-U-SCRIPT" AND;
MARLON (THE SCRIBE)...
THANK YOU DEAR POETS!!!!
MidNight comes faded beneath my feet,
All is gone above loyalty, love n'
Trust.
What have I done?? Can I regain
The love once lost baby please
Don't go.
Here you leave me in darkness,
Take my hand and lead me back
To the burning fire.
Among you're eye's that once
Sparked our love so bright, towards
The sun these Tears I Pule
shamelessly.
Tell me I haven't lost you...
I couldn't bare it! Tell me
You haven't given up??
Please don't leave, my love is:
Still true and pure since the day
We first met.
You mean so much to me, I swear
My love is on A thin line with;
You..I need to know that your
Love still survives,Through me.
Tell me our love is not LoSt among
The midnight sky.. I honestly love
You!!! Truly no LIES... Baby!! All is
Lost with~out you.