Roughness Poems

Emotional Buffet 4

The duties are paid, yet restless remain these eyes,
Without my beloved’s sight, in vain remain these eyes.

His radiance softened my roughness away,
Helpless in their watchful pain remain these eyes.

Truth is  no healer holds a cure to impart,
Afflicted with the illness of heart remain these eyes.

I cannot accept that another may see,
Slayers of grief and disgrace remain these eyes.

“Bhav” still stands humbled in the endless queue,
Whether love’s confession or death remain these eyes.

Thrill of Late Summer

The noon heat no longer burns like dog days,
Storms now caress the leaves with care and grace,
The roughness of summer night kept at bay,
'Stead calmness, peace and comfort take their place.

The air is hazy, lazy, filled with fun,
Awaiting the chill and darkness of fall,
Now missing kisses of mid-summer's sun,
And cricket's early morning rasping call.

The sky billows brilliant blue with glamour,
The ocean's coolness purifies the air,
Tempting sunbaths silently clamour
For my pale skin on the beach to bask bare.

The Jagged Edges

Natural things are rarely smooth
or flawless as they appear on the surface
      Smooth fur on skin and curve on wing
           are rough and jagged underneath
Push back against the grain shows true texture within
       reveals bristling hairs and quill barbs of feathers
          It's the grit within that shapes us
A pearl is smooth but inside is a seed of grit
We need the bumps knurls and gnarls to grip and hold
Slick things slip through silky wet and wanton fingers
          Most natural things are rough at birth
Stones and gold nuggets are fractured rough at source
They're smoothed by wear and tear of sand rubbing in streams
        Babies are smooth at birth but age roughens them
Humans grind away all day at nature's roughness
seeking perfection in shiny smooth and faultless
      Blissfully they're unaware that
it's the faults flaws texture and roughness within
           that glistens shiny the pearl
It's the bumps and gnarls outside that knurls the grip

Imagine Such a Place

Imagine a place
Where no discrimination exists
Where there is no topic of color or race

Imagine a place
Devoid of judgment and despair
Devoid of criticisms, differences, and nasty glares

Imagine a place 
That doesn’t compare
The way we walk and what we wear
In this place, it does not matter
The texture of smoothness or roughness of hair

In such a place, all would be fare 
In knowing that the root is the commonality we share
that will always connect us to the skin we bear

Discourse For Rough And Soft

Not everything that is rough is bad 
And soft is good
Remember the roughness of the grate is useful 
While the softness of the moss 
Can bring you down.

Miles and ahead

A mile and ahead to summit,
Can’t stop although I lack permit.
I am always so eager to admit ,
It matches my way and habit .
A game beyond any loss or profit,
I deny to quit and never retreat.
A script without retake and edit,
Confidence prevails and uplift.
Who said it to be undoable?
None here is infallible.
Resisting roughness makes it unreachable.
My soul says divinity is repeatable.
Natural obligations are traceable.
But can’t stop as journey seems to be remarkable.

Abrasion

Injury caused by less roughness

The Harmony Tree

My thoughts of this world lie troubled and profound
As I pause drenched in the golden hues of copper fields
Stretched to the limit of the bronzed horizons that crowned
Beaming with the aspiration of assured hope revealed

As the sun wraps reverently all around
Where old familiars have settled to retreat
I have come where tranquility and serenity abound
Looking for a place of peace

I stand uplifted by a fabled tree of legendary rhyme
That laid its roots sublimely patterned in story
To furrow richly in the swelling soil of time
Gently resting within its landscape’s glory

It grew ever so magnificently
Harvesting the goodness of adaptation
In perfect unison with nature's severity
Relinquished in the passing of generations

Strong and textured with roughness and age
From the scars of hardship it dwells
In its simplicity and synchronicity-a musical page
A soothing lullaby-a song of peace and farewell

And in that golden light I am reminded we must
In a world amid calamity, despair and strife
Find ourselves in this place of calmness and trust
Amidst gardens of hope glowing with harmonious life

the fountain

Unforgiving crash against a gentle surface
The power falls harshly on the fragile reflection
The light shines on the face of her
But she ruins the image of grace with her roughness
Or so she thinks
Others look to her for their calm
Her tears tirelessly fall
If only she could see
The gentle grace she portrays
Then would she love herself
Then would she realize her worth
All she sees is her mistakes
She sees what ruins her face 
She sees the fragile reflection fail
As the crash comes rushing down 
She sees a girl crying 
She sees herself 
She goes to the girl and offers her help
She holds her hands and absorbs her tears
She asks the girl why she cries 
She quietly traces the delicate face 
Full of perfection and full of grace
If only you knew 
The sweet fountain cried 
That I understand you 
Truly and fully 
Understand you

Along Windy Way

Written: November 28, 2023
             ______________________________________

Beneath the sweltering luminescent sky.
A thunderbolt flared over the silent firefly.
Oak-smoke tones and vanilla bean paste.
Swung idly, draped as moss from a baste.

Tintinnabulation caused by wind-borne sighs.
The gentle quiet of flora roughness is dry.
Evenfall cobalt-wrapped nascent starlight.
A crescent-shaped moon is gloaming in flight.

An avalanche of a billion Katydid wing beats
Cricket voices in a range of alto to bass feats
My gem-encrusted flame bursts and spits.
Beneath a benumbed bowl, boiling hiss.

My soul finds solace in the lichened death fall.
I was thrilled by the fire and the creepy owl call.
A soft mist falls across drooping eyelids.
amid the dancing stars and firefly skids.

I am wounded

I am wounded

I looked out the window
The light, streaming down
Amongst the trees
Reflecting on me
 
To walk amongst the trees,
A simple pleasure
Fresh scent of pine
Mind, at ease
 
I heard birds,
shadows flying from tree to tree
My hand to touch
This roughness of bark
Such thoughts , absurd
 
How the deepening light,
changes the colour of the trees
I have seen this view
Three thousand and six hundred and fifty times
Memorised it too
Always a delight
 
The physical bonds that hold me,
are permanent...
Ten years ago, the bullets shattered my spine in a contact
The broken back,
shackled me so
 
I am amongst the trees
I never went away
For, the mind is always free
Living another forest day
 
I cannot move,
The way I used to
The mind is never chained,
yet in this chair,
my body remained
 
To walk amongst the trees,
a simple pleasure
Thoughts to treasure
One day....
Please....
 
I feel,
Yet I cannot touch
The trees
I feel the wind
Blowing through
I wish I could too
 
Slow silent tears fall,
The light streaming down
Amongst the trees
I never went away
I visited you
every day...

Instruments Of Hope And Faith

Hands of the piety
Phalanges of work and charity
Driven to spearhead not stoop
Enliven and share not droop

Fingers we dip on stoupe
Churches of the holy in troop
Our faith we lathe with pride
Strongly we hold not stride

Images we fond and draw
Murals we touch like straw
Gentleness in open hands we pave
Roughness in helping hands we stave

Our works and thoughts are one
Over thorns and bouts of man
Skins and colors of faith
Fins and winged colors of the laith

You are a work of art
Embellished with paints of heart
Filled with a well of hope
Influx of worth in the hull of rope

Ropes are extensions of hope that purport
Strengthened by faith and hands of support

Forbidden Valentine

Disturbed forbidden valentine 
you level me and that’s the draw;
I’ll be all yours if you be mine;

Your roughness I wouldn’t refine,
I eat up what’s enticing, raw;
Disturbed forbidden valentine;

Profile’s bent and that’s by design,
left is right when you’re a southpaw;
I’ll be all yours if you be mine;

Cliche’ of shivers down my spine,
there lies the appeal of an outlaw;
Disturbed forbidden valentine;

Two hearts completely intertwine,
ignoring each red flag and flaw;
I’ll be all yours if you be mine;

Rage at a different baseline,
holding my neck and a handsaw;
Disturbed forbidden valentine 
I’ll be all yours if you be mine.

Despair Displaced

Hopelessness, like krait betwixt stones, creep into heart,
Confusion, like troubled stream, from heart, stands apart;
I am lonely and lost; float on flooding river,
Lifeless! Though reach the banks, I'll live like a sliver...!

I try to avoid despair, yet, like leech it clings,
Looks externally simple; it has hooking strings;
With sufferings and pains it makes my mind brim-fill,
When I find emptiness and void, it remains still...!

How long will my hopelessness last? Will there be end?
To those joys that shake it, will this easily bend?
Is hope, like sun in fog veiled? Or like lost stars gone?
Will, hence, in my life, no costumes of virtues don...?

Am I able to relax in my times of pain?
Seeking divine blessings, do I my soundness gain?
Do I wait and watch for all gloomy times to pass?
Does my outlook end with the tunnel of impasse...? 

Step-by-step, little-by-little I try to reach,
Zenith of freedom and my troubles to impeach...
Roughness in me, toward me, like chaffs in winds, blown,
I tread the paths of life Holy Scriptures have shown...!


11 August 2022

Unnecessary Roughness

Here lies Emmett Kermit Lavender
Whose time was summarily cut short
When he insulted his English professor
With an unnecessarily caustic retort 

written April 26, 2022

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