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Couplet
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Poor Pauline was caught unawares when she was in a rush
She ripped the seam of her jeans exposing her enormous tush
People started smiling when she had passed their way
For her tiny G-string panties were clearly on display!
She could feel a cooling breeze around her nether region
Thank goodness it was summer and not the winter season!
Jan Allison
24th April 2016
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Verse
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SCOTSMEN
Though it be strange enough to the rest
For music to soothe the savage breast
Those who choose bagpipes would be Scottish
Strange breed those guys north of the border
Only they would design a kilt to order
In a region where the climate is anything but hottish
Outsiders who try to understand Glaswegians
Think that they almost sound like Norwegians
Well, they are kinda polyglottish
Ah! But thank god they are excellent engineers
The steam engine was perfected with no peers
In a style uniquely James Wattish
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Sonnet
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Becoming changed means leaving habits blank
Retaining strength to make a routine of skill
The knowing of and showing how to thank
Expressing proof that love is what we build
That love becomes truth that truth becomes life
As living stays and death is brought to none
Not one will reap destruction build to strike
Not one is left to crumble over crumbs
We therefore speak inside of peace then breed
The cost to leave the loss of love with pride
Then seeing love as one the price unseen
Released we fly from grief of strife untied
Designed as taught we march in global cohesion
as region leaves each region blessed...
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Rhyme
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It's a pretty little town in northern New York State.
To visitors of the region, everything looks great.
There was one obscure fact of which I was not aware:
A big War of 1812 battle was fought there.
A large British and Canadian force started a campaign
to seize control of upper New York and Lake Champlain.
British ships under the command of Captain George Downie
fought American ships and armed forces unsuccessfully.
The British captain became an unfortunate casualty.
Not long after, all hostilities would cease.
The Treaty of Ghent ended the war and brought peace.
I thank wikipedia.org for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
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Sonnet
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From the Eastern Spain region of Catalonia,
he was born in 1900 in Barcelona.
His family would later emigrate to Cuba.
He performed with the Teatro Nacional Orchestra.
Sailing to New York aboard the SS Havana,
Xavier achieved great fame in America.
He and his band opened the Waldorf-Astoria.
Nineteen-forty brought his greatest hit “Perfidia”.
Some later recordings popularized the conga,
along with other styles such as mambo and cha-cha.
Xavier Cugat maintained great popularity,
until he passed and left this world in 1990.
Among the greatest of the twentieth century,
Cugat left to later musicians a legacy.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
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Rhyme
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Lord, thank You for humbling my heart from pride’s perilous cost
Indeed reaching out to me, sinfully lost
Thru the compassionate working of Your Holy Ghost…
Now, I can joyously yield to Your leadership post!
Lord, thank You for cleansing my body from carnality’s impurity
Indeed purging me from evil worldliness’ vanity
Thru the divine imputation of Your righteous authority…
Now, I can truly claim Your victory in fighting against iniquity!
Lord, thank You for directing my faith from false religion
Indeed leading me to You - the divine Surgeon
Thru the illumination brought by Scriptures to my soul's region…
Now, I can* finally escape from abomination’s dungeon!
*Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ…
March 3, 2019
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Rhyme
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Chicago native Emmett Till would no longer be alive
after he was lynched in the state of Mississippi in 1955.
Till was on summer vacation in a village called Money.
It's located in the delta region of the river Mississippi.
The fourteen year old was beaten and shot in the head.
His body was dumped in the Tallahatchie River when he was dead.
Till flirted with a white woman in a grocery store, allegedly.
What really happened there remains a bit of a mystery.
The woman's husband and his half brother were the culpable party.
They were acquitted of all charges by an all-white jury.
Since the Constitution protects citizens against double jeopardy,
the two later admitted their guilt in a magazine's story.
This was one of the most infamous events in our history.
I thank wikipedia.org for information I obtained to write this poem
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Free verse
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Is Your Refrigerator Running
Late at night while sleeping or in a trance
Contemplating philosophic thoughts about the universe
Children called on the phone and postulated
An age old question about refrigeration
They shouted loud into the receiver
“Is your refrigerator running sir?!”
(I added the word “sir” since they did not… they must have forgot)
I checked my refrigerator quickly and checked its pulse
Looked inside to discover cold, outside was running hot
Somewhere about its lower region it seemed too hot
The children were so wise, so smart, so intelligent
They astutely suggested that I go and catch it
My refrigerator was running wild with fever
I did not want to get or catch what it might have
What if it’s contagious?
Tomorrow I throw my refrigerator away
And buy a lunch box to replace it
One with Batman or Superman on the lid
Refrigerators have become too complicated
I just need a simple box to keep stuff in
I must remember to thank the kids for what they did
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Free verse
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(NOTHING MORE TO SAY)
I've seen the way you look at me
I've seen the way you look at them
Without wanting to admit, you hate everything I stand for
Lying to yourself, you are sweet, caring and better
Still, you look at me and hate everything I stand for
You are a cheat - A liar - A toilet flushing down rain
You seek and want my attention, yet you have no domain
Your THANK YOU's are cheaper than a grin on a Walmart bag
The light - The light - That shines upon your expression
Nothing more than.....
Sour grapes traveling towards the darkest region of the sun
Yes, simple prunes basking all the time!!!!!
Shaking powdered grapes from lobe to lobe
Watching humping wild hogs who can't eat cake
---Desperately you mock yourself---
Before you draw a blank, let me remind you
You look at me and hate everything I stand for
The way I smile, carry myself every day
I never claim to be perfect, but better with no anvil
You can't bear the way I stand in front of the soap display
I embrace with all my spirit, at the end of every day
I'm so glad I am nothing like you or them
In reality, I judged you the moment you walked in
Before the year ends, I will end my affair right here
I have nothing more to say
I hope you all have a great new year.
TaTa SKAT in the Hat
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Narrative
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Interviewer : The poet
Todays Guest : The wind.
Good morning viewers, this is my guest, the wind. Please offer a warm welcome.
Wind, you have made quite a name for yourself in the media.
Would you agree you have a Bi-Polar personality ?
I am sure I always perform at my best, no matter which polar region I blow.
You have been described as a destructive force, what would you say to that?
Only when affected by nature and her flighty ways of creating warm air currents that rile me. You must admit mostly I am admired for my gentle cooling winds.
There has been bad publicity from firefighters who say you are their worst enemy. How would you respond to this?
Well yes I do help spread fires wonderfully well, and that keeps the firefighters employed.
Ladies wearing dresses and skirts don’t have many good things to say about you.
Ah but for the ladies I can carry their scent for miles. Surely that counts for something.
Is it true that you have been seen in the company of thunderstorms?
Umm well, yes but its purely platonic we are just good friends.
Is there any truth to the rumor that you have accompanied hail on occasions?
Yes another dear friend, although she can be quite cold hearted.
Is the accusation that you are causing a resounding amount of erosion, true?
Umm I find that accusation most incriminating ! The interview is ended.
(Wind wafted away)
Well viewers, it seems the answer to that one is just blowing in the wind.
Thank you and God Bless.
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Free verse
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If I Go Before Farewell
I was the harvest of the black hooded Specter of Death
Caught by surprise He stole my last breath
His Scythe cut me down mechanically with dispassion
My heart lost it's rhythm, my color became ashen
As I was turning to dust,my eyes had gone blind
Just another Marcher in the Parade of Mankind
I raced in the sunlight as a golden child
I sang and I laughed but mostly I smiled
And then walked as a man with prowess and pride
Only to wrinkle and gray and finally died
And freed of my earthly bonds forever
To live in the region, the region of Never
The sun shall kiss these cheeks no more
The river my companion as I rest on Wye Shore
I leave without regret as I had a good run
I did things my way, I beat my own drum
The mysteries of life no longer in doubt
Now I know what the the meaning of life is about.
It's about friends and children and the woman I love
It's about music and poetry and the good Lord above
It took a lifetime to realize the best is simple and plain
My woman's beautiful face and the smell after it rains
Good food and wine the setting sun in the sky
The laughter of your children and a new baby's cry
The touch of her hand and the perfume of her hair
The taste of her lips , her serene face while in prayer
Her purity of Soul, the charity of Heart
The soft touch of her hand and the depth of her smart
All these pleasures in life along with the pain
Will pass into Eternity as tears in the rain
And to my friends I thank for sharing your time
I loved you all, you were all sublime
And now to the Ages is where I presently dwell
This is my destination before bidding farewell
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Couplet
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Recognize that the world is a beautiful place to live in
Recognize how your decisions affect people within
Search in their eyes the same fear that you have too
For we are all one kind the differences are created by you
Recognize that my fear is tangible just like yours
Recognize how these days I prefer to stay indoors
Consequences of assumptions that have turned into hate
The direction this country is taking scares me of late
I am a normal person just like you and the rest
My hopes and dreams are to achieve nothing but the best
Recognize that you are creating a divide so huge
It will be hard to come back then to seek refuge
My life involves my work, family and friends
We discuss everything from news to latest fashion trends
How then are we different when our actions are the same
How can you assume faith is what defines who I am
My mind has a thousand thoughts racing like the wind
Talent bespoken, I want to be that person one of a kind
How can I achieve this when my talent is not appreciated
Rather I am constantly made to feel that I am underrated
In a country that was known as the land of opportunities
What happened to the people why so many impurities
In your hearts, in your minds I think its time to listen to reason
My people love this country but are being blamed in this region
By: Khadija Hussein Pothi.
Doctor by profession, I graduated from University of Nairobi class of 2009. I am from Mombasa but currently living in Houston, Tx studying my Masters in Public and Global Health. Mother to 3-year-old Jamila
Writing is my inspiration to creatively express my thoughts while leaving traces of my identity in the hearts and minds of my readers. Thank you for your time in appreciating my work. You are the reason I am motivated to share my knowledge and empower the world
To view more of my work: visit drkdj.wordpress.com
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Ode
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Lord, thank You for saving…
…my condemned life that was bound to hell
By Your grace, excelling compassionately well
With Your redemption* so that in heaven I can surely dwell
Transforming me from rebelliousness thru the Gospel!
Lord, thank You for rescuing…
…my sinful soul from the lake of fire
By Your love, fulfilling the perfect sacrifice You did require
With Your pardon acquitting me from penalty of sin’s mire
Making me Your child, tamed by Your kindness that doesn’t expire!
Lord, thank You for winning…
…my arrogant nature from filthiness
By Your mercy, vanquishing evil and wickedness
With Your justification for my righteousness
Enabling me to strive for holiness!
Lord, thank You for prevailing over…
…my vain faith in false religion
By Your Scriptures, rebuking every idolatrous region
With Your truths to free me from abomination’s dungeon
Snatching me from the devil’s deceiving legion!
Lord, thank You for converting…
…my deceitful heart midst pride’s deadly cost
By Your humility, reaching out to the lost
With Your power and might of the Holy Ghost
Leading me to submit to You, serving with my best and utmost!
Lord, thank You for cleansing…
…my self-willed personality from carnality’s impurity
By Your sanctification, purging every worldliness, and vanity
With Your purification from any iniquity
Blessing me in obeying Your authority!
Lord, thank You for driving…
…my uncertain future to Your direction from terrible disaster
By Your omniscience, controlling all events as the Master
With Your victory against tribulation's setter
Guiding me to aspire for Christ-like character!
*1Corinthians 1:30 But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.
August 7, 2018
5th place, "Feral" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Slausin; judged on 8/10/2018.
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Couplet
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Dear Lord. I know that every day has 24 hours blessed with sun, moon, and stars. Yet, every day, many people barely survive and others who starve
I know that every Christmas many will buy, buy, and buy; many will give, give, and give. Yet millions will be penniless, familyless, homeless; many will
beg, hoping only just to live. I know that our world brings joy and grief, cold
and heat, sowers and reapers, sorrow and pain. Yet there are those among us
who are careless, heartless, and live daily only to cheat and to gain. The
destructive forces of nature do not know the difference between Christmas and
other days. For lack of heat, hurricanes might cease, but will not halt at the site of our stop signs or even delay.
**************************************************************
Dear Father God, realizing all these things are true and that neither I nor my fellow humans are any match for Mother Nature, please grant Planet Earth
this Christmas Season a season free of massive and destructive earthquakes like the one in Haiti a few years ago. Let any small earthquakes that might
occur not be strong enough to trigger a large tsunami like the one in Indonesia a few years ago. Let your comfort and peace surround those in California who
have lost so much. Many escaped the fire only with the clothes on their backs, not to mention their lost loved ones. The sister of a friend in our church
perished in the Paradise fire. By the way Lord, I thank you for the rain that came to my region in Northern California about two hours ago. And Oh Dear
Lord, as you very well know, time will not allow so great a list of terrorizing
perils. There have been countless devastations the world over. My Heavenly
Father, I will not ask for more at this time; and I ask these things in the Name of your Son Jesus Christ. Amen.
11212018PoSoupContest, Christmas Mourning, P.S. Awtry
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Ode
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Ancient and modern is this heartbeat
of a kingdom of four territories;
becoming the first biter to the endocarp of industrialization;
the first host to a global carnival of sports;
running the eldest of all notable department stores
and oldest without aging is one of its publishing houses.
A historic accumulator of colonies
with a spoken identity well pumped into different parts of the world
which has married diplomacy, economy and finance
to give global relevance to anyone who acquires it.
Even with this huge dominance,
Its initial lingua franca was
an adoption from its southern neighbor.
From Winchester to London, the route of its history is endless
Wwth the Lincoln cathedral the first overtaker
of the great pyramid of Gaza in an increasing participating race
and the first caster of the globe’s lifeless identity in Aluminium.
It’s a relentless consumer of Tea
having agents of law enforcement surprisingly not needing weapons
only but in situations of an adrenaline rush.
This defined region also has shoulders high above all others
in space and capacity showcased by Hay-on-Wye,
in dimensions and height, exhibited by Nature’s craft in Avebury,
in the size of a residence of royalty decorated in Windsor,
in numerical value of products traded in Harry ramsden
and a proud member of the starters’ club
in the creation of transportation mediums through rails.
The home of technology’s birth
and the courtyard where science is entertained
which is both less and greater than Thomas Harriot;
smiling when Christopher Merret and the Champagne
both got registered in history’s dairy.
The contribution of William Dockwra through stamps;
the excellence of Charles parsons shown in the stream turbine;
and the magic of Bletchley park
exhibited through the wonders of the colossus
are a fascinating fraction of a wing of its colourful feathers.
If these praises should spread online
The entire world of the internet has among others, Tim Berners to thank.
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ABC
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THE FIRST THANKSGIVING
The Pilgrims held the first Thanksgiving
At Plymouth in October 1621.
The bitter winter of 1620, was over
With a loss of many father, mother, daughter or son.
Life for survivors was much better now
As a good harvest improved what was rationed
Settlers enjoyed good health and prosperity
As homes were raised from the logs they fashioned.
They walked unafraid and safely in the woods
For they had made peace with the Indians.
After the signing a long-lasting treaty
Natives and Pilgrims shared the land as friends.
Sending four men to shoot waterfowl and wild turkeys
The Pilgrims decreed a holiday of good fortune
A chief was invited who brought 90 braves
And five deer to increase the portion.
It was an open-air roast and festival
Held along the north bank of Town Brook.
Where there were games of skill, chance and dance
While everyone gorged on the feast they cooked.
From then on Thanksgiving spread through the colonies
Though each region chose its own date.
Till in 1789 president Washington proclaimed
November 26 a day to give thanks and celebrate.
The theme of Thanksgiving has always been the same.
Though its date has changed many times.
A day for giving and remembering the less fortunate
Expressing thankfulness with our prayers, hearts and minds.
It is our duty as a nation to acknowledge providence
Of Almighty God, and to obey his will.
To be grateful for his blessings, and protection
As we humbly partake in the tables we fill.
THANKSGIVING
It's a time of plenty and a time for prayer,
A time for families to gather and share.
It's a time to remember those pilgrims past,
A time to celebrate life, while it last.
As we bow our heads around the table,
With turkey, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie.
Before we feast we’ll thank our Lord
For the blessings of the year gone by.
Old Jack Frost is freezing on the windows,
As outside the bitter wind blows.
While inside there's a red, hot fire,
Which welcomes and warms both hearts and souls.
By Tom Zart
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Quatrain
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Ah had a aulder bruther whin ah wis wee,
ah wis five then an' he -wis nine yea see.
A tendid tae follow him aboot,
bit bein' aulder he widnae care a hoot.
Aw jings a remember wan day at school,
oot o' ma pocket ma hankie a bullyboy did pull.
Whit arrrr' yea cryin' fur? Ma brother Jack did say,
that big bullyboy pinched ma hankie whin ah wis at play.
Noo bein' aulder an' bigger he set aboot his bloke,
at furst the bloke thocht it wis a joke.
Bit no fur lang whin Jack grabbed this blokes wee wee parts,
the bully bloke screamed an' had an involuntary fart:)
Weel a gote ma hankie back an' it stoaped me fidgin',
as that bullyboy bloke walked away haudin' his Nether region"
Naw ma bruther wis no fond o' playin' wae me,
bit he wid a'ways protect me tae the Nth degree.
Whin a wis Nine an' ma bruther wis thirteen.
Jack wis a'ways oot an' never tae be seen,
Wan day ma faither came hame frae his workin' day.
"Alex" he shouted oot the windae , cum in this minit frae play.
Jings, crivens he wis in a blidy angry mood,
a wid hiv ran a mile if a possibly could.
Did you burn aw those window curtains doon?
a looked up at the windae an' blidy swooned.
The curtains wir hingin' wae a wee bit charcoaly thread,
oh crivens a wished as wis blidy dead,
No me faither, naw it wisnae me,
jist then, at that moment, ah hid an' involuntary pee.
The door opened an' Jack came in,
his face white as if he had done a terrible sin.
Sorry faither it wisnae Alex that done this horrible deed,
oh so sorry faither I wis stupid, Jack did 'onestly plead.
It wis me as ah flicked a lighted match,
oan blidy fire those curtains did catch.
Aw a kid dae wis tae pull them doon oan the flair,
an' smuther the flames wae the back o' that there chair.
Noo , faither dinae explode,--- at aw,
even efter aw whit he had saw.
Faither said. Twa things saved yea Jack ma lad,
an' fur those twa things you should be glad.
First wan, yea admitted yer firey crime,
saved yer wee bruther frae a hell o' a time.
Second wan wis yer presence o' mind,
actin' sae quickly whin yea were in a terrible bind.
So ma lad, thank you for being so quick an' true,
no punishment but a reward for you is due.
Sadly for me noo baith have gone,
but niver have lights so brightly shone:)
The Auld Yin.
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Narrative
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When you proclaimed all slaves in the U.S.A. to be freed, it meant the total abolishment of the slavery system, I suppose. When you issued the Emancipation Proclamation, I think what you had in mind was equality of all people, whether former slave-owners or slaves or, people of northern or southern region of U.S.A.
Although Mr. President, your thought was noble and just to all conscience minds, men’s prejudice against others were there at all times. Your most humanistic proclamation was lost on those inconsiderate ones, whose distasteful behavior on people of darker skin color or somewhat different look; was an expression of the mind-set of superiority against people of, they think, lower classes or inferior.
It was many long trying years for the people you freed, wishing their well being. Even one century after that monumental day. There was only a little change to the people of color. Though granted some physical freedom and little human dignity, they were still oppressed with social injustice and forced to live in an unfair world of de facto segregation. There were so many obstacles to overcome in order for them to raise their social status, and that’s why their mental anguish was always there to torment them. However, after the day of the Washington D.C. Rally, lead by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., he sowed the seed of a dream that hot summer day under the scorching sun. Things gradually changed, and the germinated seed grew with the dream.
Then, another half century elapsed, still, with some struggles, from the day of Dr. King’s “I have a dream” speech. We Americans voted an African-American man for our president. A seed Dr. King sowed is ripened, his dream realized.
Mr. President, one and a half century after the Emancipation Proclamation, this nation became a true democratic country in fact as well as in name. Further it proved that the statement that “All men are created equal,” which our nation’s founding fathers proclaimed on the day of establishment of this great nation to be true, because it was actualized, we witnessed, through the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States of America, Mr. Barack Obama.
Indeed, it took us a long time to get here. Finally all of us are here at last. It was possible because you, President Lincoln, always stood on “God’s side rather than asking if God is on your side.” We salute you with great respect, we thank you wholeheartedly, Mr. Present
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Rhyme
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Time is your only friend,
That stays with you from beginning to end.
An immortal guide for your immortal life,
On this very short little ride.
From the womb to the tomb,
Just a short put to doom.
Spanning the years,
Flames fanning our fears.
The Reaper’s
A grim keeper.
With his blithe scythe he reaps what he sows.
So don’t be a sound sleeper,
Or you’ll be a weeper,
For a long lifetime you’ll never know.
Time is not on your side.
He never walks or rides.
He’s always on the fly.
Don’t let him pass you by.
With time as your friend,
You don’t need enemies.
He’s not your buddy or pal, chum in the end.
He’s not your comrade or mate,
To share your fate.
He’s not any of these.
Time is expensive.
There is no free ride.
Time is expansive.
Way beyond your size.
If you meet the ferryman,
Standing on the river Styx’s edge,
He’s waiting for payment and,
It’s not the Reaper you thank in the end.
Make sure you have the price of fare,
Or the cost will be very dear.
So, don’t pay him a penny,
Until the other side you see.
Time is a fickle traveler,
A wicked unraveler.
A sickened babbler.
For a nickel he’ll bang his gavel there,
And sell you to the lowest bidder.
With him you’re not the highest winner,
Whether you be a saint or a sinner.
He’ll even sell you to a pickled barreler.
(That’s a cooper, for anyone my poem has put in a stupor.)
The slave trade is alive and well,
Amongst the hoards of hell.
You can thank legion,
For the death in this region.
It’s twelve o’clock midnight and all is not well…
Join the Ghost Dance of death,
Make the most of your last breath.
Your host is the god Seth,
The toast of Egypt when the sun sets in the west.
We don’t need no pyramid,
To find the fear in him.
It will be amid,
The vodka, beer and gin.
Will God save us on Earth?
Will He judge what we’re?
Or are we doomed from birth,
To and unforgiven death and dearth?
Our body is cemetery bound,
Or sent to the cremator.
But is our soul Homeward bound,
To live forever with the Creator?
Are we destined to lie in a stark grave?
Predestined to die in the dark unsaved?
In a tomb unmarked on a road unpaved?
Tended to by a caretaker depraved...
Who will be witness for us?
Jesus resurrected Lazarus.
Will we be more than just a carcass?
Are we just worm food turning to dust?
Soon we’ll see what fate God has in store for us,
As the Arc Angels play jazz on their trumpets.
Dying is easy, living is hard and hazardous.
What lies beyond, what Houses of Glory has He for us?
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Rhyme
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I will take flight, into another zone
how far off to wander 'tis now not known
no regret, as dear point is to be free
beyond sadness, into a joyful sea
to a purple land, a paradise realm
I hopeful master, captain at the helm
with love and hope as true and faithful guides
resting sweet upon easy flowing tides
all dream weaving into strong palisades
pursuit, avoidance of world's many blades!
A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice
In my flight, rainbow colors gifting glee
a fine blessing -a gifting unto me
as I travel beyond life's purple veil
ship in flight, horizon beyond the rail
anticipation, of great mystery
left far behind, woes and deep misery
gazing down from white-clouds far, far above
spirit glowing in search of truth in love
this night my dear old friend, youth rejoins me
as I reject blindness, to again see!
A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice
In buoyant dream beyond the blue and gold
through rainbow layers fluid to behold
a vision bold the gleam of evergreen
a region watered lush the vivid scene
where age is not a weakening device
forever bloom not lost on throw of dice
I find my place my soft cocoon and soon
beneath the moon a lass to rise in June
I find the soul mate of my very soul
the influence of Nature time had stole
A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice
Awakened just in time to fill my vase
I pluck the distant summer flower place
where inspiration grew from blossoms wild
as whimsy seized the day a shy wish smiled
and reaching back across the miles of pain
to find the inner child who once did reign
again to see the dawning light and find
bouquets of violets abloom behind
the stony brow the wall between the weeds
and fantasy imagination seeds..
A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice
Robert Lindley and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration)
January 8, 2022
Quotes On Poets:
“A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.” ~W. H. Auden
“Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history.”
~Plato
“Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.”
~Samuel Beckett
“Everything you invent is true: you can be sure of that. Poetry is a subject as precise as geometry.”
~Julian Barnes
“Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.”
~Khalil Gibran
Poet’s note: Dear Robert, it is always an honor and a pleasure to share the creative page with you as your artistic pen is rich with inspiration. I value our poetic fellowship and appreciate your generosity in extending this invitation to me to share in this poetic endeavor. A journey of yearning and searching, a quest for innocence and imagination lost, and hopefully found, behind the stony brow. Thank you for yet another wonderful collaborative experience.
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Rhyme
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*Situated in the south-western region of Mauritius, a dream island in the Indian Ocean.
Written on 9 November 2023
The Mystery of the Black River Gorges*
A shining summer afternoon
Witnessed a couple in full bloom
Strolling cheerfully, hand in hand
Like lovers and intimate friends
In the Black River Gorges` reserve,
A prime forest park state preserved,
Gazing at the endemic trees,
Feeling like the rare birds quite free
To hop from branches to branches,
Like butterflies dipped in a trance.
They strolled along the river bank
And could only the heaven thank
For the gorgeous sight of the rocks
Turned deep black by the river shocks,
The pure and fresh air that did blow,
The music of the water flow
And the splendour of the landscape
That emerged in the distant space.
This national reserve is home
To a prime forest quite awesome
And a picturesque greenery,
A stunning sweep of scenery
Of unique fauna and flora
Presenting a distinct aura
That thousands of nature lovers,
Foreign and local visitors
Cherish with incisive envy
And engrave in their memory.
The couple scanned the scenery
For several wonderful hours
Treading amidst trees and flowers,
When stunned by the splendid beauty
Of a full moon shining deep bright
Presenting a marvellous sight
In a cloudless sky all starry,
They stood staring at each other
With no toll of time to bother,
On a full moon night lovers` hearts
Are known to expand and to dart
Arrows of true love in the air
And ardent emotions to flare;
So happened with the twain`s envy
That dipped in the crest of frenzy,
Wrapped in the womb of ecstasy
And oblivious of time and space
Felt the moon light flying apace.
In his daily tour the next day
The forest warden with dismay
Found two bodies lying lifeless
In the river bed quite listless;
How the couple reached that sad stage
Was mystery in that village,
A mystery until today
Which but the moon can give away.
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Details |
Narrative
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Night!
It’s around nine thirty
maybe ten.
The phone rings.
The voice is irritating, the words frightening.
Within minutes I’m in a car with my mate.
Within minutes I arrive at my own ground zero.
Exit the car.
A body walking says you must be Courtney's Dad.
Yes I am.
I don’t say those words,
I don’t say anything.
I enter a strange house.
My eyes go into a computerized scope mode.
I assess the scene.
Devour every image.
There is talking.
I can see that I am involved and in conversation.
I am breathing the moment
committing all the three dimensional images to memory.
That’s what I do,
that’s what I always do,
I pay attention to detail.
I record it in the recessed region of my brain,
the file I named celluloid.
This is one of those moments.
You don’t just live it
you also live outside of it.
You adjust angles
from the ceiling
from the floor
from every degree
from one to three hundred and sixty.
Your camera guys are working at a furious pace.
We only get one shot at this take
anything we miss is gone for ever.
I'm looking at the undercover guys,
three cops.
There’s the linebacker in the middle
the young basketball player on your left
and Meatloaf standing on your right.
They are still talking to me,
but they are one dimensional
a cruel reality,
so you send in your third string rookie quarterback to deal with them.
Meanwhile your sixteen year old is a part of all this.
She just happened to be here.
They know she is an innocent bystander,
well at least they do now.
She is sitting on the end of one couch
among the devastation created by ... I think they call them the law.
No hurricane could have caused this kind of disarray
not a lifetime of hurricanes.
This is what the good guys do
they tear places apart
stand with sanctimonious airs.
I think that my third string player is getting a lecture
something about the friends his daughter keeps
but I am barely paying attention to him.
I want to crawl in to my daughter’s skin
absorb all the pain she is feeling.
I want to hug her mind gentle
supply her the exhale she so desperately needs right now.
You don’t choose unconditional love
it chooses you.
All that matters is how much my daughter is loved
and can I trade it in for a magic sphere of protection.
For her part she is scared to death
but I can also feel she is somewhat relieved that this has come to an end.
Relieved I am here.
Relieved she will be coming home with me.
All this will just be a nasty memory.
We look at each other.
We both think this 'too has passed.'
I don’t like to judge,
but boy it sure seems
like the bad is on the flip side of this vinyl forty-five.
That’s the law as it turns out.
They can bust through your door with a battering ram.
Ransack your home.
Step on your soul.
Hand out unwanted lectures
leave with a pat on the back.
You want to scream you want to yell foul.
To what avail?
Serve and protect
for what, from what?
They found two lousy marijuana plants,
that’s right two lousy plants.
They can get a search warrant
destroy everything
might get in the way of their large swollen heads
and
destroy lives,
destroy people.
They can destroy, destroy, destroy and destroy,
never serve,
absolutely never serve
and less than protect
a lot less.
In fact
they can put a young sixteen year old girl in danger
walk out laughing.
They will even be commended for their acts against humanity.
Remember those laws.
The right to be someone
to not be looked down upon by the hired help.
I guess in the end that is our only bonus in all of this,
they are after all only the hired help.
So let them worship their false Gods in their agnostic ways.
From my perspective they have acted like demons this evening.
Only one angel walks out of this man made mess.
Thank God she’s my daughter.
Feb 26 2016
armand
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