Short Catapulted Poems

Catapulted far
I caught my dream in mid air;
Ha, no mitt needed!

...

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From the ivory heights of heaven
I am catapulted down
To the bottom side of Nothing
Where envy gilds my crown—
Separation, subjugation,
Force my frantic frown....

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Pitter patter raindrops are slapping 
The windows pelting at the glass
Like chipped bone hacked and splintered
Wind whipped and catapulted 
The wood of the house dulls the sound
But the glass twinpained amplifies
The droplets Pitter Patter, Patter,Pitter
An unnatural sound to disturb sleep...

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Immersed in stars
brilliance captures brilliance

aroused renaissance

familiar territory
her guise catapulted through
universes

drenched comet hurled

gazing, still, motionless

she seduced her moon

graceful change she 
aligns her glass

Heaven whispers
brilliance captures brilliance...

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Late musical giant; despite blindness catapulted to fame.
    The incomparable Ray Charles. "Robinson" was his surname.

  Made hit songs "Hit The Road, Jack" and "Georgia On My Mind."
 Nicknamed "Brother Ray"...he's irreplaceable; truly one-of-a-kind.




Date written: 11/02/2021...

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My Stockholm syndrome
crosshatch strokes across my rickety easel
lavish lavender blends of oil and spice
dye this powerless infant
catapulted into a cradle –
the dead center
of a clandestine circumference

Each hair on the stencil brush
an acrylic incision
a caressing crimson mutilation
of the narrow slit
leading both bishops and cardinals
to the vineyard of
ripened blood
- the apostolic apex...

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Catapulted through
Time my soul reached out to seas
Of black in the void.

The journey long though,
I made it in seconds and 
Then began to swim

Few understand it
The quest of a soul seeking
Its enlightenment.

On I continued
And in the great library
I found my purpose.

The light within me
Glowed in cerulean blue
I had touched Gods mind.

No one understands
Enlightenment until they,
Arrive at its shores.
...

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I shivered, and dreaded her face
As she put me in a test every morning
I can never please her
Her way or no way!

This thing called EVALUATION
Is so subjective
It can’t  be objective 
When one is prejudiced.

But, how many ways can you peel a banana?
Or, how many ways can you  dress a chicken?
How many ways can you put  coffee  in your cup? 
Or, how many ways can you style your hair?

I catapulted  to a higher ground
Aha!  I am on top of everything!
KUDOS TO MYSELF!...

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FOES
They pretend to be nice…
Whilst their hatred is buried in ice…
So cold to reveal sarcastic pieces…
That catapulted their prejudice…
Now their conscience is in slices...
Their fate narrow and gamble with dices…
Without facts, quiet like mice…
Whoever honours them deserves it thrice…
Their secrets with no value yet with price…
Extent of their jealousy boomerang twice…

Habitual truth procrastinators to deride themselves, 
their lives are always lies…
				By Willem Pietersen...

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