Short Thronging Poems

Lamb
delightful, joyful
loving, giving, caring
Master, Savior, demon, human
ranting, raving, thronging 
sedition, affliction
goat 
=======
In Honor of Dane Ann
And contest
...

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Like a nest on a little church
indented in the rocks.
The sky is low.
The twitch 
of the air flower-beds –
the passing angels.
And voices like gushing
streams; rivers before the sea.
The day is silent.
The body is growing up –
some birds are thronging....

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Its that time of year
we'll try to be of good cheer

as the store opens at dawn
and we rush in with a yawn

to elbow through the discord
a part of the thronging horde

anxious to spend,
hoping that in the end

we'll have bargains at last
for another consumer Christmas....

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That connection they had,
with a soft rained upon earth,
was barely understood
Until Matthew Arnold's
"Strayed Reveller"
rode that "thronging train"
stirring up the Goddess,
bringing her right back into today,
still a wild rose,
ascending the crumbling wall, and....
Once more,
a thin mist
born of golden light....

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My head’s reeling it’s all too surreal
My heart questions just what is real
My mind couldn’t describe how I feel,
O spirits awaken my conscience. 

An overwhelming feeling of longing
Hopes and fears together thronging
I wonder why it’s me fate is wronging,
Oh, I long for self-transcendence.    



~A Brian Strand contest...

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NEUTRAL COLOURS

Special species in speeches,

Thronging the long lawn.

Chameleon:echelon of neutrality.

Pavillion:bullion of activities.

Springtime:symbol of productivities.

Humans abound around,

The globe for abode.

Different but not,

Inference for lot.

Global creed of love,

Total rid of war.

Loot the line-cross,

Pool the fire-molt.

 

ADEOLA YUSUF AMUNI...

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I Have Sought 

I have sought in mortal forms
In beauty a pleasant countenance
By worshipping those in attendance
In vain I showed my ignorance
When turned into inky darkness
Of night as if on a bright day.

Where hopelessness & darkness
Reside amid the thronging crowd
Ghostly shadows turned into cold
Into cobbled eternity of the streets
Struggling against deep incantations
Life began suffering again In familiarized mortal situations....

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Pecking corns like a crow
Quaking and cowering
Scampering on to wall's edge
At the meek noise
Of the approaching toes.

Stay and stare! the glibe
Its plump dwellers and dealers
Bombs swelling within their cerebral foetus  
Spewing Thunder, Blast and Blood
Thronging the shrines,

Screeching and shrieking
In perpetual fear.

With heavenly hide
Twinkling stripes of grace
Hop! Hop! My love! Hop thy race
Trample over the human race....

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as the psychopomps cry
in the night, and we fly
towards a fate most divine,
looking, lost, and dying,
seeking fleeting blessings, crying
for the final slumbers sigh.

as we stir, our soul is sighing,
can't you tell the heart is dying?
mirrored shadows, matching eyes,
windows to the darkest lies.

watching ever in our longing,
mindless masses, always thronging
on the outskirts of our lives,
a twisted fate falsely contrives
and pushes ever on the road
to everlasting solitude....

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