If my life was a book
It would be the scattered pages
Left behind
And I've tried picking them up
And piecing them together
But so much of the narrative
Has been lost forever
People I've known
And people I've loved
Stole pages when they left
Leaving behind
An incoherent mess
But still I try
To make sense of it all
But all the while
I'm still writing new chapters
It's just not the same
When too many characters disappear
The plot loses focus
And as the main character
I've lost all motivation
Living each day to get to the next
Always surviving
But never thriving
If my life was a book
It would be the scattered pages
Left behind
And I'm tired of sequels
Take me back
To the prequel please
Categories:
sequels, depression, how i feel,
Form: Free verse
Again it’s time to set some cars on fire
To smash some windows shouting out obsceneties
With Paris riots on TV you can’t get tired
Like trashy sequels of the Chaplin’s comedies
The action breaks down into episodes and gags
The crowd goes berserk with animation
They look quite serious, young lions and old fags
Rugged protesters, conscience of the nation
But don’t be fooled, it’s just the way they live
Traditional amusement, if you like
With little compensation they forgive
Until its time to start another strike
It was dramatic, till the fireworks began
Then water cannons jets endorse the celebration
Its Paris riots, open up your beer can
Sit back and watch the show of exaltation.
Categories:
sequels, political, society, sometimes,
Form: Rhyme
Unswerving in your sincere actions,
stating the main purpose of intentions;
no venom is excreted from enlarged veins
without the fear of horrific moments!
Be grateful for the ample kindness shown,
never a trace of bitter sentiment or a frown;
eyes tear when crossing over the deep abyss
with the hesitation to discover its darkness!
Woeful are the darkest secrets kept to oneself,
when they're confessed they can be a relief;
pluck roses from their stems without bleeding:
thorns were Christ's crown proclaiming Him king!
Persistence is such a fortitude stronger than gold,
give someone a stone instead of sweet bread:
he will speedily fling it back and seek revenge;
treat everybody fairly and nobody will ever cringe!
Be infallible in your ultimate quest for beneficial change,
remain loyal to your peers, avoid conflict and treason;
if unfair judgment is implemented, let God be the judge:
sequels end when the pile of lies crumbles in soggy rain!
Faith binds spirit and heart to pursue holiness,
be a deviant and bear the direst consequences;
religion imposes punishment, society never does:
does freedom mean to do whatever one pleases?
Categories:
sequels, appreciation, character, confidence, endurance,
Form: Rhyme
perhaps it is artistic
to employ metaphors
as a seductive tease
leaving the door ajar
for multiple sequels
conjured by thoughts
in an imperfect realm
stained by feral forms
feeding off innocence
exploitation the norm
flame of love reveals
truth without mirrors
truth is unapologetic
and so inconvenient
objects within dreams
prefer not to recognise
simplicity of what is
visible only in silence
light pays not homage
to imagined darkness
love employs no force
thus love and light wait
for as long as it takes
till all embryos awake
Categories:
sequels, truth,
Form: Free verse
The scene could not have been better set,
All it required was for two uncontrolled elements to arrive,
On set at the same time,
For the world to head towards catastrophe on a global scale,
That may not be reversible.
And so it came to pass that unlimited credit,
Along with unrestricted 24 hour advertising,
Arrived on set together as scripted.
The producers and directors of the show,
Seem to have a winner on their hands,
And have no plans to cancel it any time soon,
With sequels and spin-offs in the pipeline.
Categories:
sequels, addiction, analogy, anxiety, art,
Form: Burlesque
Frozen Promises June 23, 2026
______________________________________________________________
Frozen promises, aped icicles hang,
Glistening with deceit
No alteration in sight, the same yore song,
The disillusionment was a bitter defeat.
The sun, once a beacon of warmth and light,
Now hides behind a veil of darkened clouds,
The warmth of hope was replaced by plight.
Leaving us feeling lost in the shroud.
In this realm of torment and fear we tread,
Is a test of strength, where souls are led.
It's a battlefield of our creation.
Where we bear sequels of our damnation.
Yes, it's true; this world is hell.
But within its chaos, there are stories to tell.
We were not born to wither and fade.
But to rise above, unafraid.
What else do you expect? What else do you expect?
In a world filled with unrest?
A call to action, a plea for change,
To break free from this endless range.
Assertively, we are the base of the construction.
Of our living inferno, this destructive abduction.
But it's not too late; we can turn the tide.
With our grit, we can alter the course, with pride.
Categories:
sequels, allegory, angst, betrayal, character,
Form: Rhyme
conflict
ego's outcome
results in fallacy
sequels to desolation and
distress
unsafe
disturbed fervors
craving for resources
avarice envelopes and makes
grievous
regard
equal concern
brings about happiness
humanity unfurls wings of
delight
Placed : 2nd
Traditional Cinquain Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Date: 21-04-2023
Categories:
sequels, conflict,
Form: Cinquain
SPOUTING INKGASM
Time heals, season reveals,
It invigorates artistry & obliterates skills.
Profligacy of time mops up a beautiful mess,
saturated on the ageless smile of my empress.
But just like the simple touch on the nipples
that dabbles reasoning in sweet sequels,
and invites esctasy-like stimulation,
so your embodiment beguils my imagination;
extricating syntax from my indelible pen,
and causing a flow of inkgasm now & then.
VIck Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhymes/The dizain.
Copyright ©? 5th April, 2023.
Categories:
sequels, 1st grade, writing,
Form: Dizain
Callings in life
Tales, stories unveiled
Sequels or fictional?
Categories:
sequels, journey, myth, nature, riddle,
Form: Questionku
Animation I grew up with,
Bride of fantasy stories.
Comedy with action I watch,
Death of worries I snatch.
Earth of penitence is
Fist of imagination I sense.
Girdle of suffocation, I sike
Hinterland of minds, I hike.
Insatiable finds take off
Juggernaut of marvels thereof.
Kommandatura with style,
Love of sequels I file.
Mysteries of lifestyle are not farfetched,
Nincompoops play unwretched.
Over and under a replay of streams --
Posthumously acclaimed.
Quondam penners survived,
Reminiscences of sets --
Sets of scenes and takes,
Travesty of the reclaimed.
Up, up and away
Victory not far away.
Wonders of life in a bucket
Xanadu of strife in a socket.
Yabadabadoo!
Zen of life.
Categories:
sequels, color, feelings, fun, inspiration,
Form: Abecedarian
chirping exhaust trails
of a streaming philharmonic
blue-winged panegyrics float in
on a breeze of murmurs
dazzling brainwaves prevail
upheavals of a dawning melody
sequels of an aurora psalm
silken song of a chickadee
twilight fascination
in strands of a woven sapphire
orchestral melodic line
a thalia chorus with notes of
birch on a spring morning
4th Contest Place Winner
Written: June 21, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Categories:
sequels, appreciation, bird,
Form: Other
Lights out and all is dark, except...
this darkness is not what you'd expect.
Not a movie in a blackened theater.
It's your script. You, the director and creator.
Lying awake in your bed,
scenes playing over in your head.
Some make you laugh,
some tear you in half,
too many make you cry.
Seeing your life passing by
in reel after reel...
How does it make you feel
to see events from the past,
ones you thought would last,
until you read the words,
"THE END"
No more love scenes of pretend.
Actors walking off the set...regret.
No sequels to be shot.
No new twists in another plot.
Run the credits?
Forget it.
The theater is black
there's no going back.
C u t!
That's a wrap.
Categories:
sequels, emotions, life,
Form: Rhyme
If but my heart and mind
Could but merge as equals
Through pain and sorrow
Roles’ played as sequels
Categories:
sequels, analogy,
Form: Free verse
Repeat, remember, re-rehearse, recall,
embroider the memory, live it again.
Various variations repeating a theme.
The pain come back,. repeat,
yet the dead and gone spring up more strong.
Images flow through your open eyes
and you know it's not real anymore,
that its just mind's copying machine
printing fiction as fact.
Look away, refresh, forget,
but then you relive it again.
Try to learn.
Repeat remember, re-hearse, recall.
The memory now so distorted,
so smudged and puffed up
out of nothing at all.
Clear the movie, burn the screen.
Watch the fire consume the past forever.
No more sequels.
Repeat not the long dead letter,
let the past bury the past.
Hand it a shovel.
If it won't go away,
kill it with a Fresh 'Now' Moment.
Don't look back.
Categories:
sequels, poetry,
Form: Free verse
From the poorly buried pain,
sad flowers are born,
and from painful longing
can eternize the absent
love...
So, it doesn't terminate
a love left behind,
sans sequels... !
Categories:
sequels, allegory, allusion, lost love,
Form: Light Verse
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