Residues Poems

From Dusk Till Dawn

An isolating darkness looms:
A numb yet tingled skin;
And residues of twilight's gloom,
As walls unseen close in.

This place feels sharp, yet vague and stale;
The clash stirs strife within.
My fingers click and spread—a snap!
So faint—I fear I'm dead.

Insipid airs invade my lungs:
The voices haunt my ears;
Adrift in dreamlike black, undone,
Alone, still lacking fear.

Commanded, guided, commandeered
My soul is tugged then shoved;
My anger swells, for loss so sheer,
No helm, no sense, bereft.

To think, therefore to be—I blare!
The real is mine to snatch;
I’ll walk into the tunnel’s flare,
My exit door unlatched.

Face Value

Dry skin is better in the morning
Wash the face, rinse the residues
Then, use your system
For oily and combination skin
Favorite remedy in the evening
Mask for lazy people
Go to bed early
And in the morning
You're like a pouring apple.

Practical Magic

Forget complicated spells, 
That require obscure ingredients,
That have no safe substitutes,
When a pair of helping hands,
That can magically halve the workload,
That can massage away the meanest headache.

And a set of listening airs,
That can hear what is unsaid,
That can pick up the slightest note of harmony.

And a voice that speaks volumes,
That is low in decibels,
That speaks from the heart,
Are the only three ingredients,
That are needed to create a spell to remember,
That leaves no sticky residues,
And can be easily brought together at short notice.

REALISATION

You thought the sky was always blue. 

Abruptly, it started raining with a substance like glue. 

The beautiful butterfly flew. 

And inversely, a sword drew- 

You liked the morning dew. 

But it was all temporary residues. 

My destination for you was hazy. 

And the longing to meet you was making me crazy. 

‘All that glitter is not gold.’ 

Right? 

But the mirage of the horizon is yearning me to approach nearer. 

Was I being duped by my imagination? 

Or was I close to my destination? 

Hallucination. 

The voice of light pierced the sanity of my mind. 

Soon, the metamorphosis occurred. 

What am I left to see? 

I turned my head in eagerness to fly and ended up in the sky, 

With wings plucking feathers one by one. 

I realised the wings I got do not belong anyone. 

It's meant for me to rise and reach the heights with a clear mind.

My Global Panorama

I always did fantasize about our diverse earth;
Its freezing stones in the fridges of the Arctic and Antarctic landscapes.
The idyllic playgrounds on the quiet sands of the Mediterranean Sea banks,
The amazing sun baked plains of the smoothened Sahara brown,
The tropical Haven of humid air, where the golden sun awakes in a fair and bright morning, and sets at even with its magnificent crimson smile.
What a cozy feeling can its temperate climes bring; with its sheer abundance of Clement weather.
A paradise indeed of ambient mildness.
I long for the warm gardens of Eden’s residues, with their ebullient and lush tropical green.
How pleasant it would be to cascade down the many waterfalls in an imaginary and wonderland fashion.
To go atop the zenith of each mountainous heaven from which pinnacle point you have the panoramic view of your own vanquished plains.
I once disappeared into the wind, in a midsummer night’s dream to see my global fantasies come true.
And like a boisterous eagle,
I glided high to the heavens for this global and utterly delightful bird’s eye view.

Come and Get It Rondine

Come and get it I have some breaking news!
You really need to get here right away,
this development quickly made my day; 
It may just set off your internal fuse 
careful the fire you do not overuse;
Run don’t walk there is no time to delay
come and get it! 
Rebuilding with leftover residues 
your future can be changed starting today!
That alone gives you a reason to stay; 
Sparing a moment you really can’t lose;
Come and get it!

Let Me Bare Your Pain

You're this loving aura:
Your beauty, so vibrant
All your senses are on, —high
But you wanted to bust down and cry
PS: —I love you.

I ache, you say; in this tender voice
I say; let me ache for your pain
Let me; bare your pain and free yourself
PS: —I'll hold you.

I wanted: To take your pain
Like residues in my palm
And smear it on my heart
So that you can be free of this pain
PS: —I love you.
 
I desired to become all of your pain:
Thus
I wanted to make your love mine
But instead
You slipped away on through; I'll miss you
PS: —I'll hold you in my arms.

That in itself is a pleasure:
Knowing
It's worth bearing this pain for you
Baby—PS: —I love you.


R.I.P. Shannon, I sure do miss you, 
Incredibly so.

The Echo of a View

The echo of a view 

 Nature is not democratic and doesn’t to the call
for liberal equality that means the rule of the majority 
kills the unwanted by massive droughts to stop weeds 
being in charge, a landscape of roses is but weeds
strangulating healthy edible plants.
Capitalism
Communism 
Nationalism 
Socialism
Are residues of the twenty’s century, with big political parties
Are on the wane, politics, as we know, is local, hence decisions 
Should reflect this.
We favour a structure of humanity in considerations
The ruler must not lead us into the wilderness of unlimited growth
The end result is an elected dictatorship.
We need an alternative, do away with “left” and “right.”
A schism leading us to new wars; not be afraid to sensor states
That brutally suppresses people, not them.

An Old Republican'T

It's known as the 'Grand Old Party',
But now it seems the GOP stands for
'Grab Only Power'.
Here, it is simple greed that drives
False narratives, where residues spoil
Before they sour.

Little remains, from this once honorable
Party of Lincoln, where he himself
Would not recognize it today.
Since those ideals of a single nation
And its people, have seceded from a 
Union, with a fractured display.

Now I believe in our two-party system
And feel both sides have value
That we need.
Yet I'll never find the reason in creating
A further divide, as the privileged
Cause others to bleed.

So for those that might remember,
Who it is that they truly serve.
My prayers will ask only that you find
Courage, and hopefully a democracy
to preserve.

Haiku's Temple 185

Down pour of rain
velocity
skulking residues.

Election

ELECTION..

The vote is in

One side pointed to division

The other unity..

The expression of unity

Arrived this morning..

Jubilation in the streets

And residues of division

These are the poles

Of conventional life..

Awaiting the time

When all expressions

Are of One...

Phantom of Confusion

Phantom of confusions.

Was it a dream? I wonder.
Ashes in wind
Parched throat, dry lips
Left me in a dismay,
I couldn't deny.
A little while more, I stared
My reflections in the river is fear
Would you come? I heard
No living soul in sight
Ripples echoed again
Would you come?
I want to ask, where? 
But said, no!
Denial was pushing 
Thoughts lingered with residues
Resembling phantom of confusion
Stepping back, I listened to
What I'm not saying
No apparitions breath can reach me
A dream it is,more like an illusion
Cause I'm real they're not.

Wind In My Toes

As the mercury starts to levitate,
and May hunts down chill residues,  

warmed breezes rummage the ground 
for ten sun-worshippers 
cruising in two dusty, 
floppy convertibles.

Happening 134 Ear Candy

so
   quiet
      here
just
   the beating
   of
   my
   heart
in my ear
     so serene 
     so peaceful
a moment
for
reflection...
...
   residues
       remembered

inspired by clip of Serenta op57 Marunicci

the spiritualist spirit -

the ether is alive with oscillations
          pulsations and electric frequencies
              satellite and shortwave intonations
     invisible, yet carried on the breeze

neutrinos and photonic modulations
          infrared and x-rays, promptly spun
               ultraviolet streams and applications
     gamma rays and ions from the sun

ozone filled with radio transmission
          microwaves pass thru us constantly
               the residues of past nuclear fission
     all that we have yet perceived to "be"

I've always had an issue with believing
          the paranormal "ghosts" phenomenon
               yet, with all the atmosphere's receiving
     who am I to say what's here ... or gone?






~ 8th Place ~  in the "Ghosthunters And Spiritualists" Poetry Contest, Kevin Shaw, Judge & Sponsor.

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