Itunumi Solace...for all that shall eventually be
Bloom forth, as if life-
Had not happened, as if love
You have not lost. Cry!
It's your tears, so cry it I say!
They say; the sun would rise
And again, we would try.
But what happened to the times gone?
The trust built and broken
Time shall heal it too...
Give the sun a chance-
To shine on your rubles. And on your face too
This too shall pass, and more shall come
Smile for the fond memories
Treasure the unique times
You won't be happy always...
Time heals everything, so they say
Pain has heels too
To skip past time,
Some-things just never heal.
For as long as you remember,
You won't smile.
This is the product of my brain
An invention from my past,
A hurt that builds a hut in me
To live forever in my anals,
A feeble smile pretending to times
Chariot wings...
Time heals, but not everything
Not the past,
Nor the fond thoughts,
Nor the scar,
Nor the rubles after the storm
Just encourage me to cry my cry!!!
From the anthology, : The waiver bird
Categories:
rubles, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Lyric
Xi Jinping, global hegemony is winning
Vladimir Putin is plotting and grinning
Enriched uranium, Iran's mullahs are spinning
Kim Jong-un's patience and waistline are thinning
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, over this we obsess
Gender-neutral bathrooms: Oy, what a mess
Not to mention 'taking a knee' or critical race theory
All the monument-toppling just makes wise hearts weary
The day draws nigh for the green and yellow men
~ Exchange your dollars for rubles and yen
Categories:
rubles, america, future, strength, world,
Form: Couplet
a narrative with alliteration
Royal radio reviews the Rainbow Raffle Rally planned to raise rubles
for the rugged racetrack recently recommended ‘round Rybinsk Reservoir.
One rich ruler, who runs the Ragweed Railway resists with red-ribbon resolve.
His rogue reaction to a ring of rubber stamp rednecks
left realistic Regnum reporters in a rush to rock their readers
regarding the rift between the Ragweed Roadblock and the Rainbow Raffle.
Rather like a rabbit racing a rhino, such rivalry is not reasonable.
Rally is off the radar - racetrack has been royally rejected!
February 10, 2020
Brian Strand, host
STRAND Select J, contest
Categories:
rubles, 11th grade, race, rainbow,
Form: Narrative
Alabaster body of truth
got buried beneath
a dung-key pile of swastika lies
SWAT teams of fascist oppression
swarm the polling places
like hieroglyphic Dead Sea flies
Democracy is locked in a closet,
and minority tears are sorrow overflowing
from a false premise reel faucet
For a few rubles more,
Balaam poli sighs bite their tongue
and don’t say a word
As voting rights get trashed,
Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima voices
never lever get heard
Tongue suppressor is an 'ol ancient Pharaoh trick;
dental floss over the facts,
say freedom diabetes tis how the patient got sick
Sugar coat the ballot Cain process,
put a chocolate high poll tax
to gain pure vanilla power access
Play the cerulean bugle blueberry call of the wild,
tap out the bank accounts in gangsta gutter style
While the cherry cheeks smile ...
knowing that the empty elector jingle reign sound,
from the tongue suppressor vice techniques,
will keep the mute prisoners of hope tightly bound
Categories:
rubles, allusion, perspective, truth, wisdom,
Form: Dramatic Verse
A Little Boy’s gun with a barometric trigger,
showed a Fat Man how to
blot out an Empire’s rising sun.
Proliferation’s need pushed
Sellafield and Kyshtym to trip chasing Manhattan.
Twenty two years later and just
three miles south of Middleton,
failed safe assurances lied again and signed
Pripyat’s some thousands years lease that left
eighteen billion rubles around one elephant’s foot.
Fukushima’s seven year menses – Pacific stained –
west coast tide pool colors an invasive green
as Chinook escapements fill five year graves.
Intractable cesium hangovers bleed MOX cocktails
Nostrils blowing bubbles over damned lips
fused to the tit of a beast we can’t tame.
-----------------------------------------------------
Contest: Remembering What You Want to Forget
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Date: 09.04.18
Categories:
rubles, cancer, death, environment, pollution,
Form: Free verse
Pounds, Dollars, Rupees, Yen
Time to stop this if we can
Impossible, I know but still
When money rules, it’s all downhill
Euros, Pesos, Shekels, Krone
What the evidence has shown
Happiness does not equal wealth
Dividends do not foster health
Francs, Rubles, Riyals, Rand
How much more now can we stand
The quest for riches overtakes
Killers, liars, cheats, it makes
Love, kindness, fancy free
That’s the currency for me
A pound of friendship, worth its weight
There’s no cost to aggregate
Categories:
rubles, friendship, money, world,
Form: Rhyme
American fawning pawn
wearing a king crown
How far down will you bow
to the Kremlin ground?
Peppermint kisses of appeasement
suit your licorice lips well
Shameless nude tongue abasement ...
snuggle close
to the Siberian imperial Impale
cloaked veil
Democracy pierced to the heart,
sold as a whore
for a few rubles more
Czar tissue formed on the orifice of freedom violation
Lady Liberty given over to suffer
vile degradation
by a leader butt bent and subservient
National security compromised —
prostituted for a marquee name display
Such servile, covetous billing ...
what price will Democracy pay
for the Gulag trick lay?
Adopted Cossack son,
holding the cipher keys to the kingdom,
stay bastardly submissive loyal
to your KGB domineering spy master
Getting a perverse thrill
when you hear the citizen cries
from the repeated dictatorial violations
Constitution issue gets no pardon —
Ruble khan decree:
execute the Little Caesar executive decision
Once the new czar tissue hardens,
how fast will the tyranny disease spread
from the lip dysentery infection transmission?
Categories:
rubles, allusion, metaphor, political, truth,
Form: Dramatic Verse
Do rubles rain right into his bank?
Tells many lies, can Trump be frank?
Made appointments, but they stank.
His approval ratings again just sank.
Investigated, so gave Comey yank!
Most now think he’s a hopeless wank.
[just having a little fun at Orange Trumplestiltskin)
Categories:
rubles, political,
Form: Rhyme
What are you doing?
What are you there for?
some humans are buried
in the rubles of life
other live in wet swamps
go out of your comfort
take spades and rakes
bring caterpillars and hoes
to unearth those trapped
Bring them out in society
to enjoy freedom and love
and feel as humans.
Categories:
rubles, humanity, metaphor, relationship,
Form: Free verse
Darken clouds swarm, twisting,
Intertwining giants mass,
Funneling truants blend.
A moving death storm descends,
Without warming it begins.
An eerie silence lingers,
Eluding detection.
Swiftly, comes the wind of a
Thousand screams,
Gripes ripping apart mother earth.
Faster, faster like a speeding train,
No place to hide nowhere to run.
Rubles ruins, torn flesh,
Mangled metal.
Broken shards scattered across,
Baron plains.
Carnage, wreckage sisters to fate,
Utterly torn apart by mutual rage,
Destroys all.
Humanities sorrow reflects,
Troubled skies.
Desperation's tears shiver through,
Heaven's grate.
The path of destruction can never,
Be undone.
But as fast as it came it disappears.
Yet its mark litters every inch of,
Blacken ground.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
rubles, imagery, imagination, inspirational, international,
Form: Free verse
Let me not so much be lost in involvements
as would make me incapable of
recognizing the fragrance of the flower
beaming in my own yard; as would
divest me of time
for the merry sports of children
glee with the total joy of creation
radiant in their midst.
As would render me oblivious of my time
for the wind carrying the scents of love,
for the birds chanting the notes of life,
for sparkling waterfalls falling yet gay
and, too, for the stars fireflies carry
through the immensity of darkness.
Let me not so much be swept by haste.
Let me not lose the sight of myself
in the rush of life’s vicious circles.
Let me not go spiraling towards a peak
where vision would be blinded with
tears, washing down life’s rubles.
Not so much be lost as would have
no time to look at myself
ever. Not so much, so much be lost, just
to see the hue, grace, glory gone
off the face of my beloved
as I’d wake and be conscious.
How long would I run after the
time,
my mind just a cosmos of void?
Will you please go journeying
for your own sake,
till I come living a moment of life?
(Translated from Nepali by Manu Manjil)
Categories:
rubles, poems, poetry,
Form: Verse