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Rubaiyat
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Hopelessness attempts to drive me under,
despair to take me down, break me asunder
but loss of love can never quite defeat
or drown, or mercilessly leave to flounder
http://vivi
for I am not yet ready to retreat
or cede to your demands nor yet entreat
your mercy, plead with you for one more chance
pander to your ego, giant conceit.
This feisty lady’s finished with romance
You have already led her quite a dance,
offended her, disgusted her with love.
She will no longer give a second glance.
Written and posted 29.8.14 at http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com
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Rubaiyat
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Hourglass…
My only hourglass is running out of sand.
For sure, there is nothing within Promised Land.
Stop for a second think; what is gone is gone.
Regret that youth never went as it was planned.
Upon which path did I come into this life?
Nothing easy came up for me in this strife.
I did not ask for this; I must return soon.
I need some courage, an unmerciful knife.
I am leaving, and my path is too oblique.
A thousand mysteries will add to mystique.
Where is my destination? Who is driving?
When I get there, I know it will be unique.
Half of this world to me was pain and half loss.
A lot of people I know act as my boss.
I want to fly and dance with swallows at dawn;
Or maybe talk to a man who was on the cross.
1/18/17 Haloo
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Rubaiyat
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The Valley of Loss
My dear, we've run out of words, I see
Calm is the garden except your tree
A cherry blossom dying in my mind
Now barren of pink in Spring's glee
How can our moons bled into the night
And our rooting take plight
Why could I never touch your blossoms
For your garden gate shut tight
Somehow our ducks didn't line true
For one year our pond was shady of blue
Filled with decoys of reality
With ephemeral winds shaking our rue
My dear, we swam circles in that pond
With you ducking my fondness and bond
Our days growing shorter and colder
The peaking sunshine never dawned
Oh how I wish our paths didn't fork
And the tines of our love had torque
Carrying us to the door of our hearts
Where bubbling sweetness uncork
Dear, your piano man now leaves the room
His ivories look and sound of gloom
On his shoulders rest memories of you
A cherry blossom entomb
11/14/17
Empty Your Soul With Words - Poetry Contest
I give up.
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Rubaiyat
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Stars are crammed into the cosmos.
Sought and chosen as my name rose.
Each evil and skinned modesty,
In need times, I was prone to praise.
Since my house is calm and lonely.
Angels poised the wide Gate Glory.
Sometimes horrible things happen.
My name is stated, I'm in glee.
This mundane world isn't my heaven.
In high skies, near to grace fountain.
A deep sorrow soon brings to light.
The eyelids shine as tears flow down.
A soul that could be tamed by might.
And greet All with hugs and delight.
Sorrow moves in the strained shadow.
I need peace to soothe my insight.
I'm curled on a scented pillow.
I'm anxious, when or not; I'll go.
Sad loss to a cherished farewell.
I gave up and sighed with sorrow.
Perhaps in the darkness of hell.
Slight echo may be felt indwell.
The same sleep took me anyplace.
I am free of dread and befell.
Written: October 07, 2021
Interlocking Rubaiyat Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Angel L Villanueva
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Rubaiyat
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Torturous nightmares of hellish anguish
Make soul drowned in agony to languish
Torments’ onslaught disturbing blest silence
Dreadful lamentations God can vanquish.
Midst attacks of guilt heart strives to conceal
Frustration-wails reign midst hopelessness’ peal
Driving me to hide in the Lord’s chamber
Serenely safeguarded by His love-seal.
Fleeing from perilous temptation darts
Faith seeks refuge* in the Saviour’s ramparts
Hedged by grace, compassion, mercy and peace
Constantly braced upon truth of fresh starts.
When achievement is flooded by vain pride
Paralyzing sincere commitment stride
I’m driven toward failure’s grievous loss
Thus, in the Almighty I must abide.
As fervent service thrives to bear fruits well
Struggles’ inundation constantly swell---
My spirit keeps on worshipping with thanks
“To Christ be the glory” I humbly tell.
*Psalm 94:22 But the LORD is my defence; and my God is the rock of my refuge.
October 3, 2022
2nd place, "Pick-A-Title, Vol 32" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 10/14/2022
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Rubaiyat
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Transcendence
My cat’s content, she cannot see the end
No road ahead, no thoughts to comprehend
Or search for something that she will not find
No disappointments, just around the bend
She has no dread of death, no sense of loss
No spectre’s hand to try to reach across
For pure in heart, though finite in her mind
Her spirit freed will e’re bypass the cross
Devoid of sky she plainly marks each day
Unfettered from a knowledge of decay
Forgetting good and bad she leaves behind
She has no need to innovate or pray
Of her I am at times most envious
Yet glad that she remains oblivious
To hope we Homo Sapiens must bind
With yearning hearts opaque to luminous
The less obscure, though they are safer still
To long for seas, songbirds and daffodils
For fields of victory we all have pined
Let science satisfy, and man’s goodwill
And take the risk, and walk the narrow lane
Transcending cat and ape and human brain
Remembering that a quest for God may blind
Those seeking from a world immersed in pain
The more aspired the hope, the more the strife
Too many in God’s name unsheathe the knife
Let’s be with loving kindnesses aligned
Dream high! Dream low! and join in afterlife
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Rubaiyat
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I craft poems by evening time since I can't slumber.
I'm dreary of the one with a springtime splendor.
I'm lacking in rest, shrewdness, and moral dignity.
I've lost my aware vicinity and spotless anger.
We are not blinded by flies, owls, or moral agony.
It's not the fatal quiet or the sun's loss that's injury.
This isn't a chorus wraiths in the lush hedging.
The drab caveats of another day induce dark dubiety.
Nebulae, stars, neutrons, and quasars are all fledgling.
Dismal holes with some pale and green dwarf lighting
Blooms to be merely seen or to be picked in billion years.
This is the chronicle of the star nights, every evening.
Every night blurs you from my sight, yet, shed the tear.
I wish for a splendid twilight and consistent star seer.
I trust the rife angel's whisper and recall our discourse.
My awe, once the chalice in grasp was deep, rest clear.
Our spurn requital to God wanes our sole act of alertness.
While ebbing pristine streets toward the swift darkness
We scrutinize the cosmos, yet we are witless of his might.
Due to the safety risks of glass shards bits in the chalice
Wishing I had a hundred mates to gather around light.
My soul suffers in a gentlefolk that scorns peace bight.
Yet I shudder at the cogitation of starving to death alone.
Life is amazingly brief not to raise a chalice to reunite.
Written: January 17, 2022
The Chalice of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
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Rubaiyat
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Life in Africa was full; years in the bush, a treat.
Music made us happy; drums sounded for dancing feet.
A loving life with family always made us smile.
Living together freely, we never knew defeat.
Greedy slave hunters sailed down the Nile.
Chained us below with feces and bile,
Our curiosity was a big mistake!
We lived like that for a long bad while.
Sold to the highest bidder at the market by the dock,
Herded off to cotton fields, we became their livestock.
Forced to do hard labor; whipped until bare backs bled.
Rest would never come as time ticked on the clock.
The life of a slave was hard work; at least we were fed.
Some rested in cottages, others in a shed.
Scorching sun, sweat, blood, the whip did not feel good.
Calling a white man, “Master”, a slave’s daily dread.
Even in the best conditions, the human spirit was not free.
Mistreated; folks who could not take it were shot trying to flee.
A man could dream of Africa and his family all day.
Divided and sold into slavery a painful loss to see.
The Underground Railroad helped slaves run away.
Their owners and hounds tried to catch each stray.
Some of the lucky ones were never found.
Those who were caught for their lives had to pray.
Lincoln tried to free all slaves; the Klu Klux Klan still frowned.
John Wilkes Booth picked up his gun and shot the President down.
Slaves were free per history, but it was not as expected.
For even after the Civil War, burning and lynching did abound.
About one hundred years later, the issue was resurrected.
Rosa Parks stood up for her rights; NAACP directed.
The Civil Rights Movement brought freedom at last.
President Kennedy addressed the nation; equality enacted.
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Rubaiyat
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Listen and you can hear the wind whisper
the name of a lost ship and its skipper.
The wind’s name is Favonius, winged god
His sotto voce is but a whimper.
Gentle breeze doth tell of China Clipper
Bound back toward London by English shipper
Lost from sight ten days out of Adelaide
for all those involved a real fear gripper.
Fast Lammermuir was used in the tea trade,
Built by W. Pile’s Company twas then made
Clipper’s capacity a thousand tons
With errant compass windjammer now strayed
Off course by three degrees vessel now runs,
till Mate’s use of sextant now captain stuns
Ocean current is also a surprise
This phenomenon Captain Bell now shuns
The current wants to go counter clockwise
Loss of ship’s control is what this implies
Sails unable to give pull to the right
though steersman at wheel with strength vainly tries
Lammermuir was in a terrible fight
Not turning right was a dangerous plight
All hands on deck knew their situation
Hard battle continued both day and night
Exactly where was their lost location
Question captain sought with much vexation
Average speed of Jammer was fifteen knots
Get back on course or it’s their damnation
No welcome sight of other ships or yachts
Current’s tying captain’s stomach in knots
Break free now or else certain death will come
Possibility gives worrisome thoughts.
New day same latitude they’d started from
A three hundred mile circle left all numb
From circling current they couldn’t break free
Trying all things they refused to succumb.
Lighten ship over the side went the tea
Sails pulled harder still that wasn’t the key
Rear stern chaser was next without effect
Flying, scared lady raced over the sea
Caught fast in a maelstrom of no escape
Swirling in circles of concentric shape
Ever decreasing circumference toward hole
Ever increasing speed toward yawing gape
West wind speaks no more of piteous sight
Wraps wings to cover eyes from ship’s bad plight
Finis, finis, Lammermuir sails no more
Ending day ends in blanket of black night.
Distance To London From Adelaide is:
10110 miles / 16270.47 km / 8785.35 nautical miles
Distance To Shanghai From Adelaide is:
4706 miles / 7573.57 km / 4089.4 nautical miles
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