From bathroom pipes, kitchen sinks
From inside cabinets, drain and sewer points
The cockroach approaches in a flash of time.
Once sighted, woman gets scared and yelp
A chance for the brave husband to help
And to flaunt his bravery and might.
Seizes the broom sitting at the corner
When the brave man comes with the broom
The sly cockroach is already lost from sight
The brave man hits at every nook and corner
Misses the target, and the mission to kill, fails
Leaves his wife in utter despair and anger.
Finds the pest below the cot and hits it hard
The cockroach struggled but did not die
Broom snaps, pest flees without a trace
Nastiest pest, nocturnal in habit
The insect at its best at night
Rarely surfaces in broad daylight
Finds escape routes to hide from sight.
The insect loves and lives in grime and filth
Ill at ease in open space and broad daylight
Always in hiding and retreating to dark
Pale tan , reddish brown, glossy dark to black
Shades of repulsive colours, gross to look
Notorious for infestations and spreads diseases
Now hogging limelight in media discourse.
i do not notice the peeling white polish on my nails. the blinding mirror has betrayed me once more and now my body wants in. i now bite my nails but i do not notice its bitter tang—my eyes are paralyzed to the screen as it dissects me; it is the first to forsake me. the mirror is false. in the scrutinizing eye of the camera each imperfection seizes the spotlight; beneath all layers of falsity—the smudged eyeliner, the thick lashes, the sharp-smelling nail polish—lies a pathetic 16-year-old girl who can only pray for a way to fix her face, her body, her smile, her laugh— she can only lay motionless as she gouges out her stomach with the hope that by morning, appetites will become nothing more than a myth. the mirror cannot help but lie when the little girl engrossed in fantasies of magic, greek gods, and the idea that she could become anything now cannot see further than the hand-held mirror inches from her face and the honed blade of the tweezer tips gripped between her mangled fingernails that lay like salivating wolves ready to pounce on the next blemish— the mirror cannot help but lie.
Under teal sky, in swift breezes
Lavender wisteria spills,
Twirling anyplace gust teases,
Under teal sky, in swift breezes.
Wildflowers sway, when wind seizes.
What colorful summer dance thrills!
Under teal sky, in swift breezes,
Lavender wisteria spills.
The sun warms skin like wine.
My breath seizes softly in a heart-tangled beat,
Shades entwine.
Quietness glows,
Silk on shoulders, grapevine so sweet,
It shows.
Esteem,
Two spirits meet
Dream.
The sun warms skin like wine.
Silk on shoulders, grapevine so sweet,
Dream.
We are all in it..' we're all a part.' Each action and reaction.. The stops and starts
We have also the oil, of the Spirit thats Number One..Apply it librally or the rust will
Come it starts in flecks..Its liable to grow its a sickness acedemia, is most liable to know' it seizes.' It captures first off its exponents..I thrives in humidity and damp
Also neglect is prime' and our silence to opponents.' Contend for the faith..Or the
Cycle will not move. A moribund agenda will emerge, and all people much will loose'
As the heat of the rain pierces the thirsty
bosom of the earth harassed by the great heat of summer
, And as arid and suffocated, it drinks, and nourishes the plants
Burned by the sun, displays vitality, childbirth, gladness,
Your image, fountain of dreams wrought by my thoughts,
Penetrates gently through all the pores
Of my soul soiled in the struggle of burning hatreds,
Of sad and silent moments, and of daily cares.
Like a heady perfume spread by tenderness
Which seizes the intoxicated and subjugated soul in its palace
And lulls it with memories and unspeakable dreams,
Immaterial arms ardently
embrace My exhausted thoughts and my dark meditations
When your eyes are reflected in the lake of love of my heart...
Little sunshine falls;
A frigid wind blows
And seizes the draws
Like the Lord takes control.
The hours pass by quick;
Night ushers in the hearse
That we'd overlooked
Yet His season endures.
The moon gives no sound;
Hours seem delayed
But God's resurrection
Patiently lies in wait.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a russet acrobat,
fur the color of burnt sugar,
eyes bright beads of mischief.
rain splatters, a mid-day drenching.
he pauses, mid-scamper across the lawn,
assesses the situation.
then, inspiration!
a maple leaf, crimson,
almost comically large, detached, adrift.
he seizes it, a tiny, frantic grab,
and hoists it high~a quixotic
tilting at the autumn sky.
he struts, beneath his dripping canopy,
a furry little king, conquered by autumn,
but undefeated by drizzle.
See, faced with no one,
yet in my mind I see him everywhere.
The best thing for me;
do not name it,
stitch my mouth,
say nothing.
But silence is never nothing.
Silence is the loudest thing he gives me.
What seizes the eye at once
makes the heart beat between lines.
Utmost, inexplicable, perpetual stimulation.
Now the wind blows mournfully,
and I let it.
Naturally, flagrantly, palpably,
replaying each line,
bona fide, constantly, truthfully, carefully.
Beating through language,
an ache written sideways,
pain grammar cannot hold.
Devil-may-care.
On the edge of a single smile,
he walks through my thoughts.
Every gesture is an answer.
Every lack of gesture is an answer.
I build whole futures
out of unfinished sentences.
Between my wanting
and his unknowing,
through life's clenched jaw,
I cling to the unrequited knowledge
of reciprocity.
Receiving your heartfelt kisses,
The only moments in which my stubborn loneliness seizes.
For a while we were galaxies apart,
Missing your body, the best work of art.
Mi Amor, the flower I needed;
Through your sweet aroma, my trust issues defeated.
Cause you hold on to me as if I'm falling off a cliff, 24/7.
As you offer a helping hand, an angel of heaven.
They say love is blind, mi amor.
Your essence is the cure,
Opening my eyes to its truest expression.
Without utterance, your persona itself a love confession.
Mi Amor, it's my heart you won.
Hold on to you as I feel my trauma burn.
Chose my designated rose.
So loving is something I re-learn,
All because of mi amor.
Pensee poetry form sort of
metal
lightweight silver
creeps up fingers, toes, legs, hands
early in the morn while writing
metal seizes poem's heart
Hail needles the skin.
Wind cracks the spine.
The mountain holds,
breath seizes on the tongue.
Snow knives the summits.
Cracked hands fumble dry stone,
paper-thin air slices,
bald eagles tilt in the blast.
Alpine skiers parched,
no more Earth Day banners.
Cherry Creek scrapes its bed.
Feces in the bedpan,
chapped gloss smeared,
cocoa hair salted and smoked.
The Zephyr rattles east,
carrying the mountains backward—
Grand Central dissolves
This, is where it began
A scream
Blood curdling
An amalgamation of acid and iron
Coagulates my blood
Mother
Instinct seizes
Heart racing
Legs race faster
Thoughts race out of hand
A gun to her head?
No time for weapons
Fists will do
Around the corner
My eyes catch glimpse
five golden corners
two solemn eyes
Mother
One word resounds
From shrieking lips
No
Over and over
Over
And
Over
That word
His badge
Her sobs
His gaze
Say one shrilling word
Her lover
My father
My father
Gone
"And when she thought,it's the end.",she got wings.".
Nobody's perfect,right?
Everyone has lied sometimes, everyone has cried,.
But what matters is ,
how many times we have tried.
The butterfly got judged by the bees,. The trees got the lessons on breeze,.
It's quite funny, how people think ,.
That reality seizes to exist.
The life's a garden,.
Let us not compare our colours or fragrance or bloom,.
We are the best flowers of the garden that never complains to bloom.
CARPE DIEM
the earth tilts
winter wilts
solstice seizes the day
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