The sodium street lights
Your few striped freckles
The makeshift tattoo on my palm
A couple? Never. It's always been a triple or even a single at best,
A circle of medics healing medics.
This distortion is fine
It's a revolution of entrancing revolts.
Relics ignite for every star in the ground,
Scattered upon my brain.
To my pressed, dear, deadest flowers...
You keep leaving me out!
Crystalise for me, so I can die again for you.
My precious opalite,
Your purity is a miracle.
My beloved flaked obsidian,
Your impurity is a fiasco.
Both are much to be worshipped.
But now what am I to you>
The myriad, or the clone?
You keep me enshrined.
You rekindle yourself.
You say the circle is perfect, but it ends 4 corners behind.
I guess I'm only history.
Set me alight
If you dare.
“Handmaid of Patriarchy”
the garden rezoned
Embattled virility
misogyny cloned
As Delilah revolts
a new Samson on scene
One half of the whole
left to drown in the stream
Each genders new quotient
to minus the plus
A He without Her
— the destruction of us
(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: May, 2025)
Oh greatness, the king of days
You look so tired and stressed
Are there no maids in the race?
You acquired so much torture in quest
They violated you for your good ways
Great man full of honour, and no stress
You began encountering their riotic pace
Who killed the your power to test
You had believed in acquiring grace
Now that revolts are worth the rest
WHAT attempt have you told the face?
Oh great upstream python, you suggest
That great minds should face the race
For winning is the very best.
They confiscated the paradox; they called it unlawful,
Carving the truth to the desired measure,
Shaming the threat and killing the unworthy.
But for years in the grayness created with blood,
Years of inhaling toxic facades and consuming revolts,
He brought jewels to her feet and worshiped
The same idea and image that everyone hated.
In a world of shadows, where words are cut,
And thoughts are shaped like clay,
Truth hides under veils of silence,
While dreams are hunted like prey in the night.
We try to see through the cracks of reality,
To find sparks of light in the dense darkness,
But the paradox, that divine gift, slips through our fingers,
In a world that prefers the silence of comfortable lies.
And yet, in our depths, we know that truth,
Though carved and mutilated, continues to breathe,
A small but unyielding flame that burns,
In the hearts of those who still dare to dream.
One Day the Soul will Rise Up
to Live in True Potential of a Most Glorious Creed,
In Light, To Quest for Greater Things
One of Purpose, a Path Enlightening
Enduring Skyward Into Pantheons Beyond
Into Realms Of Bliss and Golden Psalms
where the Mind Revolts and Soars Abode
and The Higher Man Triumphs Forth
A little low-voltage humor in monoku form depicting a fictional day at the Watt home...
The electrical engineer's wife greets him: "WIRE you INSULATE?"
Husband: WATTS it to you? Don't go blowing your CIRCUITS at least I'm OHM!
Wife: "Don't you make LIGHT of this if this were our daughter, you'd be GROUNDED!"
Husband: "Let's leave her out of this she can CONDUCTOR own business"
Wife: "Don't revAMP your story you know it reVOLTS me when you do that"
Husband: "Honey, I'm sorry it HERTZ just trying to keep you CURRENT"
Wife: "Well, I apologize for my RESISTANCE I felt POWERless"
Husband: "I didn't mean to give you STATIC but I'm feeling the SPARK now
Let's go enjoy an ELO concert it will be a good OUTLET"
Wife: "JOULE be SHOCKed to hear this... that would really reCHARGE my BATTERIES
You sure know how to flip my SWITCH we should do this with more FREQUENCY"
Husband, now whispering to the viewer "I just can't RESISTOR charm"
*** Note: ELO = Electric Light Orchestra (70's rock band) ***
If lack of love confronts you,
face him with love...
If he doesn't abdicate
don't surrender...
If he revolts,
treat him with
further love yet...
If none is worth it,
offer him truly and calmly,
with tenderness, the exit door... !
Life revolts against
the fundamental law of Nature
for all things to inevitably degrade
to maximum disorder, entropy
with minimum free energy.
Life builds structure and order
against the trend
and needs to capture
and burn energy continually
to maintain its form and existence
against the ravages
of entropy and decay.
To survive living things must
conserve themselves,
transmit their seed
to new generations
and develop more successful
forms in a continuum.
Once the chain of transmission
is broken, the life form
degrades to dust,
and ceases to exist,
a dangling, fleeting species gone forever.
Life is an enigma, a peculiar chemistry,
a rebel against the laws of nature
fighting for the survival of its disparity
to avoid its inevitable degradation,
for now.
Your hallowed chamber shuts its doors
Against our constricted faces
As our feet endure heated floors
Because of a million cases
Before your oath, we gave the votes
In spite of sweltering coercions
But now your tongue tags us felons
Because the multitude revolts
You have corrupted the chamber
And shown contempt for citizens
By putting gold before service
And self before voiceless people
Like those whose seats you now possess
The bullion unites your voices
Against a people expectant
Because they pant for change anew
With ballots ready for harvest
You brandish your lack of virtue
By offering us stale porridge
To yet again sell you our rights
When we resist the enticement
You unleash vicious touts on us
To take that not freely given
As mandate of the populace
Our tolerance is expired
Now we possess the raw courage
And are proud to bear our anger
In cleansing the debauched chamber
By allowing her to leave in haste
and miss the signal of fate’s consequence,
I wrestle with this fumed moment…and
as knuckled hands tighten, my quest
for closure suffocates a hallway.
Backdoor lightly opens…the shadow- woman
rushes down down iron stairways.
I clutch those quivering hands upon rails...
her sweat mixed with tears grinding on my arms,
while I taste its pain, smell its despair.
The pungent flavour reeks of hidden sins,
of untold confessions trapped within
hardened pores: I wail, she wails
on the steep floor...
and we holler again. This need to open
what is locked from chains revolts me.
Afraid , I let go plugging the knob
which could finally release my false self.
........................
Craig Cornish's Contest
The Fourth Floor of Nowhere
9/19/2020
A tribute to 159th Birth Anniversary of Dr. Jose Rizal
Soul of a hero ignites,
With the use of mighty pen he fight,
From the colony of other countries,
Hail your greatness, it stays in our memories.
Dr. Jose Rizal, your life was an inspiration,
Born to defend our beloved nation,
You are really an intelligent person,
Writing poetry was your greatest passion.
The spirit of nationalistic was in your mind,
Helping Filipinos shows that you are kind,
Your heart dictates to do the right thing,
To fight for freedom, history remember your writings.
Runs in your veins Malayan royalty,
Bloodless revolts spread easily,
By your pen that is considered mighty,
Shout for joy, Philippine Independence for our country.
This poem dedicated to 159th Birth anniversary of our Philippine National Hero
Dr. Jose Rizal
Written by: MPS
CRISIS
BY DR RANJIT DUTTA
A blanket of darkness everywhere!
Civilization, society, love ,
Faith and religion
All are on the threshold of crisis.
My heart revolts
And says something different
The mysterious journey of time spreads
An enigmatic essence of evolution.
The lizard on the wall,
Hoots of the owl on the banana tree,
The colourful giant sky
Aren’t they the witness of eternal time?
The soul, incarnation and re-birth
All are in crisis of thought.
Weeping civilization asks again and again
But never an answer anywhere
All are spellbound,
Tough responsibility on the
Shoulder innocent generation
Unknown countless time,
A new social panorama
Reddish songs of life,
Joyous poetical notes,
A colourful dreams of love.
With Indomitable spirit of revolution
It’s indeed a journey!
A mysterious journey of eternal time.
You stir it one way and they the other,
but the mixture stays just as hot
You attack their motives and they attack yours,
while the contents boil and rot
“It needs to be this way”… the other side revolts,
“Your mind’s faulty with avarice and greed”
The pot has simmered; the broth is thick,
and its bottom not easy to see
A mutual exclusion, first left then right
a feast—all soul’s consumed
With spoon or fork, its offering slick
when the bowls come out at noon
In single file, day turns to night
pointed talk with nothing said
Both cupboard’s bare, two rat’s within
guarding their last crust of bread
When the final story is written and told
of what in concert you destroyed
A drum will beat, zero-sum complete
leaving you soulless—but still conjoined
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June,2016)
The power of love ignites a flame
Inside the heart I take over
Both in substance and in name
Though the four leaf clover
I tender surrenders only the lust
Flowing through me when I claim
I love you and deserve the trust
That can shield me from the blame
You pour on me in return
When your seething heart revolts
At the way your heart I spurn and burn
At thirty three thousand volts
Without an iota of remorse
For the egregious evil I perpetrate
Playing your heart in code Morse
As your purity I desecrate
When another woman steals the love
That rightly belongs to you
But I feel so mighty above
Blame for seeking someone new
Shutting down my conscience in a cocoon
Of selfish celebration
While you cry all night long like a monsoon
Poured tears into your deprivation
As though you didn’t deserve better
Than the puny attitude
I couch in every little letter
I send you without any shred of gratitude
To express the regret
Conscience forces on me
In the open and in secret
I’m only human after all, you see.
A DIFFERENT SORT OF WAR
Ephesians: do we need armor?
YES, A DIFFERENT SORT OF ARMOR
Ephesians: A war begining with Surrender?
EXCEPT FOR DEMOCRATIC REVOLTS
YES, THE ARMOR HIDDEN IN SURRENDER
Ephesians: O how we need a sign or two
Accept WHAT IS, Accept NOW
IN HEART, HEAD, SPIRIT, SOUL ... end the war
NOW never ends; you will touch Eternity-Power
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