FOCUS
an artifice
of endeavour
precise
candid & confiding
quietly
in unobtrusive
clarity
a focus
mirrored in
unshowy
lucidity
in calm
equanimity
inducing
feelings of
anxiety
a
revelatory
addendum
intimate &
immediate
beguiling yet
singular
with
interesting
glints
&gleams
TONES
a scathing
ring of truth
indulging a
kind of hope
with awkward
revelations
so glamorous
yet
decadent debauched
&reluctant
in
an intimate setting
of perception
recast
to intervene
&
sought comfort
of desire
so sweet — until
tension was
present
this closeness
within
the
relationship
of
intrigue
so circumspect
& on display
yet
constructive &
respectful.
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Light
within,
is hidden
from cognition,
so if honest Joe
says that is not quite so,
their words have a ring of truth;
we accept what they speak as true,
since divine light is as yet concealed,
which, in timeless time, will be so revealed.
The honest agnostic seeking to know,
neither accepting nor negating
but simply going in, within,
slowly lets go of bondage,
plunging into the void,
assuming nothing;
a fearless wind,
exploring
unknown
shores.
23-April-2021
Sue’s purchased a huge baked bean mountain,
There’s ninety six tin’s - she’s been countin'
From midnight to morn
She’ll toot like a horn
There’s a flatulent stench I’m not doubtin!
Her neighbours they sure are not smiling
They’ve noticed how Sue is stockpiling
By hoarding loo rolls
And pasta in bowls
A report on Facebook they’re compiling
She claims all these things are ‘for me’
But sells them for an inflated fee
There’s a massive amount
In her e-bay account
It’s selfish I think you’ll agree!
Fiction poem but having seen stuff for sale on E bay it does have a ring of truth to it
04/02/20
04/02/20
I do not need a cup of tea.
I do not need you're sympathy.
I don't need you to be obtuse.
I just need a cup of Seuss.
The nib, the nub the flub a dub.
A ring of truth in the dirty tub.
How many squubbles can it squish?
How many bubbles can it swish?
The Freckle Heckle Farkle Foos.
Escaped the zoo and now is loose.
They've contacted inspecter Kleuss.
And asked for help from Dr. Seuss.
There seems to be no rhyme or reason
For there seems to be no crime or treason.
But when the slime leaks from the sneez'n.
Sadly, it's just that time of season.
So when your brain goes down the drain.
And there seems that there's just no refrain.
Just blow your nose to ease the pain.
But not your mind so that you stay sane.
Note: It seems I am up to my old ignorant bliss and didn't read what I shouldn't miss. So this won't be entered in the contest. So I offer it now just for jest. :)
Written April 10, 2017
A happy childhood
the joy of discovery
shattered on the day
she turned thirteen
when her father's
love for her changed
took on an ugly face
No longer innocent
No longer clean
The dark secret now
kept to herself
His words of love
no longer held
the ring of truth
Feelings of dread
at each day's end
Feeling anger
Feeling shame
Feeling hurt that
he no longer loved
her as a daughter
not in the way a
father should love
Her love for him
tarnished forever
She lost her confidence
She lost her self respect
She lost her daddy
Innocence beyond recall
she no longer trusted
I'm on a ride back to nowhere.
Back where I started from.
Where the ring of truth goes round in circles.
And you just end up a bum.
I've spun my wheels till there's no tread.
Sung for my meals just to get fed.
I'm looking for a place to start without a glimpse of hope.
Somewhere where I can trace my heart to the last knot on the rope.
My bag of tricks to pick up chicks, I gave up years ago.
My reputation, I tried to fix, but you know how it goes.
The absolute of yesterday's all anybody knows.
And now my lifes a patch work quilt of someone elses clothes.
I'm on the road to better days if I can find my way.
From where the past left me aghast with nothing left to say.
My hopes and dreams hung on moonbeams are fading in the sun.
Life's not alway's just what it seems when your living on the run.
Maybe someday the air will clear so I can finally see.
That over there away from here, I'll come to know it's me.
That pulls the strings when the truth rings of what was meant to be.
And this bird fly's up to the sky's to finally be free.
The First Round
You are a pothole that I swerve not to hit.
But you follow my trail endlessly and the sniffing.
When I am cornered I lash and teeth bare menacingly.
We circle each other looking for an opening and claw.
The words make me bleed but ignoring the pain.
The Second Round
Hurling insults and curses the fight searches our past.
I am knocked down from a memory and slowly gain my feet.
I throw a cross at your fears and you stagger with pain.
The referee gives you a standing eight count and the bell sounds.
We sit in our corners and take water and advice.
The Third Round
The crowd roars as we touch gloves and you give me a hook to the body.
I am cut and its deep but the doctor examines me and says I can go on.
The hook brings deep shame and I can't breath and holding the ropes.
My corner knows I can't go on so a white towel comes.
The referee stops the fight and we pay him when we leave.
The next couple are in the lobby sitting waiting for the doctor.
Ask you men do ye yet ken still acting in the right?
Of better days and other ways
We faced each day and night
Whispered secrets of delight enchanted dreams of youth
Wisps of withered warps of worth
Without the ring of truth
Who owns it now? that treasured gem
That gleam of treasure lost
Is it yet hid from those and them
Who cannot weigh the cost
In years and weeks and days of time
In buckets flagons tuns
Will yet they whisper scheme, design
To take away our guns?
Mistake me not in normal ken
Who work for daily bread
Beware of theses dogooding men
Who preach of kids in need
Who speak of lofty aims and goals
and live in constant greed
The Welfare State
That Land of Hate
That spills of wants and needs
is grasping like a drowning man In water clogged with weeds
and as he pulls the worker down he brags of his good deeds
We know how much this action costs
In trillions of papered debt
But ask can we consider toll on souls of fools who bet
On future lives of yet un born to pay for all they steal
They'll pay you say in other ways in other days
Who counts? who weighs?
The cost
Of lost?
It’s not with finger, you’ll wear this ring
It’s to be worn with heart and soul
For there was a man who wore it proud
From whom, death took its toll
He knew one day, the ring would find
Its way to the destined one
So wear it proudly for him now
You are that man’s only son
You may not know, he loved you so
But life has a way to turn
It’s with grief, you take possession
But with hope that you will learn
The man, from where the ring had come
Was strong, proud and true
A sickness came, stole him away
But he left this ring for you
You may harbor anger, that’s your right
That may never go away
Remember, there was a man who loved you so
With this ring, carry him, today
When my brother died, he was wearing a claddagh ring I had given to him when he was sent
to the Persian Gulf during wartime there. It was my ring and I told him to bring it back to
me. His son was 1 year old when he died and I hadn't been able to locate him until last year
and now he's 17 and he told me that his mom (the devil) told him that I took his fathers ring
when he died. I sent it to him along with this poem because I didn't have the heart to tell him
the truth.
Today begins a union blessed
By heaven’s gentle hands,
And as my feelings do suggest
Its strength eternal stands.
Into your eyes, my lover sweet
I’ll stare with great regard,
For mine do burn with ardent heat
Behind them once so scarred.
But turmoil’s charring disappeared
Upon the sight of you,
And moments forth I have revered
The passion since imbued.
Beneath this arch of Springtime buds
And Winter’s ivory lace,
My body’s true emotion floods
With visions of your face.
Into your softened hands I’ll place
A golden ring of truth,
And signaling His vestal grace
I’ll kiss your tender youth.
Yet when your countenance does gray
With wrinkled shades of time,
My lover’s blush shall not astray
I’ll think you more sublime.
And when I fall to final sleeping
You may learn to trust,
That our love I am safely keeping
Risen from my dust.
For you, my love, are truly mine
Forever from this day,
And together we combine
Life’s beautiful bouquet.
So as a blooming flower shines
In May when it’s anew,
To you, my dearest love divine,
I proudly say, “I do.”
A ring of truth, a silver star,
so set me adrift and I won't get far,
but tether my soul to astounding faith
and all that is left is my rippled wake...