An
elemental
sense of freedom
may appear
as the belief
in inequality
seems to erode~~
250
years of
democratic struggle
with many glimpses
of deep seated equality~
a weighty story
perhaps not blemished
with chapters of
chaotic angry and
soiling corruptions~~
Hot summers dry up the land
The dirt crumbles under the heaviness of disrespect
Fresh flowers adorn the land
Covering the uneven burial grounds
Overshadowed by privilege
What better way to claim superiority
By soiling the plantation they stand on
Ignorance crowds the air
Cast aside by vows of love
Tainting history with a wedding
The stories of black labour whitewashed into a picture of a bride in white
Covering the truths in a veil of fragility
Ironic how they use the innocence of a white wedding
To ink over history
A picture is worth a thousand words
A simple picture of a now conjoined family
Haunted by secrets of ownership
How the brides grandmother was once a girl
Who stood on this same plantation
Watching her parents become slave owners
A simple picture
Once innocent becomes a sinister backstory
A history haunted by the darkness of whiteness
Flower petals spread across the venue of black bones
Not to pay respect to those buried
But to honour love consummated on the grounds of black history
Smiling in pictures with a tainted memory
Plastered in magazines profiting off of slavery
But hey at least they gained popularity
Inspiration yields to desperation
with each tick of the clock
underarms damp as the back of your knees
soiling even your frumpy frock...
Time is finite, you know it’s true
though it seems it’s out to choke just you
a thought races past, is it your last
~ an alarm goes off, the die is cast
“Children of the Sea, is a song about ecology".
- Excerpt from a 2006 interview for Toazted,
where Dio explains the message he wanted pass to
the world with the lyrics of the song Children of the Sea.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Climbing
mountains
we crush the ice
Reaching
beyond skies
we blind the earth
Digging
to touch core
we lick clean
Soiling the soil
the seas, the air
we still celebrate
False calls
reverberate
climate change
We’re lost
Lost children
of Lord, Yes
We’re here
to spoil
His gifts - singular,
precious and rare
we are just
breathing guillotines
Look out! We’re sinners
Look out! We’re looters
Look out! We’re unworthy
Lost children of Lord
Yes, yes, true
We’re here to stay.
Written: May 28, 2025, for contest by Nette's Color my Mood
**************
the soiling scowls of cumulus night
the life soars, and the broken locks blight
he shrugged off fears that pull and ignite
embrace a life ~ of ongoing grief and guilt
his hours brimmed with adamant wilt...
What madness
We are killing the healers and paying their killers
Bound to the pound and signed our own fate
Consuming its rot confiding in demons
looting the land and soiling the seas
The mother is burning the father is frail
Its shadow is creeping its whispers are vile
The machine it runs rampant its controls are all broken
Our storytellers are paid to swim with its tide
Is this the best we have to offer?
Slogans selling you tomorrow
Today was the day my partner would go,
Through the tunnel of light and her pain was no more,
My pain begins the end I don't know,
Today is no different the pain seems to grow,
I had the misery to watch her decline,
A tumour malignant but why not benign,
To witness my partner suffer like this,
Her last days she slept,
For me it was bliss,
Throughout her long illness we had to many scares,
From moments of collapsing or soiling her wears,
Problems with treatments,
Bad news from her scans,
Cathata keep blocking on the leg where it hangs,
Eight hours in chemo,
No fun on your own,
We were in a pandemic,
I'm forced to stay home,
Then to return after such a long day,
Hoping the treatment kept cancer at bay,
My partner stayed strong,
She put up a good fight,
To be free of the cancer ,
She must head for the light.
One by one they'll slowly arrive.
Like drunken moths fanning humid nights.
Crash-landing into the brainpan of mankind.
Howling like a stray dog on fire.
They suckle away the nectar from life.
Panning flecks of silver from hopeful eyes.
Only sated when they've bled the well dry.
Howling like a stray dog on fire.
Like vampires, they feed off periwinkle fear.
Reflectionless savages of funhouse mirrors...
Black stains bleeding into the fabric of dream...
soiling the remaining ponds of pristine.
Wishing to leave a string of rubies on the wrist...
or a devil's knot around a porcelain neck...
black powder to the temple of every regret...
the howl of a burning stray, you'll never forget.
Hope I'm not putting a big hex on myself
But till now I've had no serious medical problems
Don't know how many can say that at eighty-seventy
But you can place me in the “fortunate” column
Haven't done anything out of the ordinary
Thinking maybe I've inherited some very good genes
My whole family before me all lived to a ripe old age
So what's this guy... a can of baked beans!
Seven sisters all lived longer than eighty
A pattern seems to have been established here
Don't want to break the spell or cause any problems
I'll just motor along and have another beer
Don't think I'd like to be around at one hundred
Soiling my jockeys and mumbling away
Just wheel me out to the back veranda in the sun
And forget me for a couple of days
[ Poet’s Note : This is the second of two poems personifying Truth ]
NATURE OF TRUTH : Part Two
Truth shot point blank through
the centre of her forehead
blood spurting, soiling fine furs of
humanoids at play with slick lies
and shallow Hansard words
trying to acupuncture Truth
Blood that stains and weeps and
weeps
blood that runs and will not hide
Truth collapsing in a heap in a corner
rise up again !
pulled firmly by the hair with wide
open fingers
Truth rise and rise and rise
dance with Courage
find amethysts in hard hearts of fear
cradle them to Moon for blessing
connect with fluffy clouds where little
girls see God
Truth ! be washed by midnight rain
plait yourself softly with invisible links
where choralists sing falsettos in
unbroken voices
Truth then waltzes with Love
women with baby curls taste
hot bread
Truth springs up again and again
She rises from oceans and
mountains forever and ever
Right here !
©GhairoDanielsPoetryandSong1990
Grass stalks rise upward.
to a head of fading gold
Their wings were fully spread.
a cerulean cape,
The morning smoke blows.
The willow tree was still drenched.
with lengthy icicles akin
Cat's whiskers
Daffodil drums sing an ode.
a parade in the clearing dew
on strewn gossamer
akin a wedding veil
Dawn weeps crimson tears.
and I'm just a whim
to embrace the richness of the dawn
as fresh as a chew
from a crisp apple
Rivers trickle under the branches.
Crocus blossoms in the melting snow
soiling their newly opened purple heads
dribble, dribble, dribble
Cherry blossoms burst open in my heart.
as young ducks.
velvet of a sunny yellow hue.
glide across the smooth lagoon.
Disposing of hatching eggs
of translucent porcelain.
an obvious awakening that appeared
would never happen.
Written: February 26, 2023
Your Option Again Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
The only difference between a man with faith and a man without is that the faithful man knows the weight of his sins
And yet, the weight of his sins does not discourage him, he simply begins to fetishize his blasphemy, reaching out into the endless cathedral and soiling its sacredness, for to be close to holiness is not to be righteous, but to be powerful
Perhaps there is no way for a woman to be holy in this time I find myself in, perhaps there never was
I clasp my hands and whisper helplessly into the darkness
There are no martyrs in a godless world.
We turned the pages of our lives, from the beginning
I wonder why I had to live with those humiliations again
Yet his constant voice urging me to continue the narration
Pretending that he was detrimental
To narrate it to someone uncommitted
Those pains were a minute ago
For validation as worthy, perhaps
Yet I was soiling and dishonouring my name to someone who never cared
So he left, without comforting me
Neither narrating his story
I had to heal from the monster in me
With those delicate parts yet so golden,
So I sang my favourite songs to heal again
This time, the lesson was profoundly engraved.
Oh! Arise the Soldiers of Heaven
Oh!! Arise the Soldiers of Heaven
Oh!!! Arise the Soldiers of Heaven
A losing Israel in the hands of the captivator
Sings and Praise the Gigantic, Mighty, Crown Masquerade
Soiling their bloods and sweat for Arrows
Reciting songs of joy in the eyes of a killer
Enjoying tribulations with Faith and Hope
Enacting their land filled with Peace, Harmony, Honey and Unity
Women becoming unknown Windows
Children becoming pressured Orphans
Animals getting a new Lord and Shepherd.
Dawn come
Sun Rise
Victory came in a microseconds from one who hears the pains that couldn't be beared by His Herds
Sent down troops of air that no one could resist but gave deep slumbering
Wash away the big iron been placed on the gate of the Land.
Trumpet ?? Blow
A Soul shout
Victory! Victory!! Victory!!!
Find fine excuses for your lateness;
That way you will protect your Greatness:
A Street fight that just ended a life,
A man The beating out of wife,
A purge that vowed to keep you at home,
A drug you took, everything A Dome …
A soiling of your wear by a car,
Your offer to trace some kid afar;
A patient guide to A Drunk who slobbers,
A surfacing of Long-Starving robbers …
They are all Excuses for Lateness
From A-Z, Lies of Finesse.
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