Soonest Poems

Embrace the flow of life

Embrace the flow of life

Life doesn't get easier,
You just get stronger
Go where your celebrated,
Aviod where you're tolerated.

Great things take time
Everyone with their prime 
Push yourself to improve.
Soonest you will be approve

Embrace the flow of life.
Life could be hard as knife
Life is beyond sarcasm,
Ride the waves of life with enthusiasm

Bye Farewell and Adieu

Mummy heading for market “Bye”
For her child shall super snacks buy
One or two big surprises try; 
If she does it not child’s pained cry…

‘Bye’ for someone flying away
You would soonest catch on your way:
On a trip that could need airport
But in the end gloriously short…

Goodbye to folks you love or like:
Something about them does you strike,
Your goodbye their journey mercies
Covering them like football Jerseys…

Farewell the more touching goodbye
That comes with a dose of sore sigh:
Indeed, the bye of a parting
For which there might not be chatting;
No other meeting with Martin
You’d hated and loved while farting…

Then, comes Big Tears-Dragging Adieu
Said and it’s like paying a due,
Recipients you later met few;
As one says it more mountain Dew.

Drunk With Innocence

A voice planning to rend the air soonest:
To itself pitch high for being quite honest.
 No hushing spirit ever dares to cut short
What Transparent Truth has neatly bought.

“So, it shall have to be just rave and rave,
Roofs cave in with your crier’s high octave:
Kings, sure, are drunk with their magnificence 
Moved speakers of The True innocence…

Yet, truth would rather speakers chose muteness,
For in rowdy broadcasts lies some cuteness,
Save when life’s treasured breath is involved
The sin of naïve silence not absolved…

A voice still out to rend the air soonest
Like Eagle fly high to sky-matching nest;
Or how else does one for lies dig their grave
And for Truth stand as Defender and slave?

The Schizoid

"I shall cut off your right digits!"
And the fine red-haired girl fidgets!
Not in early teens, now Eighteen:
Should with success run a canteen...

But Joyce before speaker just trembles,
Every fresh slipped threat Shock resembles;
No thoughts of a leg being simply pulled,
To flee not from the scene herself fooled;
For all her friends still holding tea cups,
No counting of the present grown-ups,
The scratched fears on their lit-up faces
A comic one with all its traces...

Already a Joyce tasting  torture:
Her just slashed fingers she could picture...

Soon, pleas to her friends to save the life
Of one who would soonest be a wife:
"From the Enemy, please, snatch death's knife!"

Questions of Moment

Do we grow too old for the moment,
too old for the visions and thoughts,
which, though seeming ephemeral,
live longest of all things on earth? 

Do we cast away hoping and dreaming
but cleave to all that is seen?
Do we deem what is passing substantial
and what shall abide but a  dream?

Was love brought by a moment,
by a moment stolen away?
Did the fire that burned most ardently
turn the soonest ashen-grey?

Forgiveness Comes Last

I want your forgiveness to come last:
You often go back to a sin too fast.
I could you with soldiers grenades blast 
And later pained flag fly at half mast,
Even as onlookers are aghast;
Of the sorry news try to broadcast;
My guilt and worries soonest cast aside...

your benefactors you leave red-eyed 
As though they had for days on end cried 
Or in public staked and lost their pride 
Or spent and spent and up pockets dried.

Brood

Over solemn matters men brood.
Whoever does not clearly crude;
One is anxious to win a feud: 
The face of Jude facing The Rude
And I say: it’s the right mood;
The countenance of The Shrewd, 
For when it is shrewd follows food.

Over the life-changing I brood
As I wish to hear The Good;
Not like leaves shake where I’ve stood 
Or, soonest, start mouthing The Rude
And sorrow drowning in The Brewed.

Criticizing a Coat

Please, refuse the disguised rag
That wearer still makes a hag.
Be bold to say “No, thank you”
While leaving “Later, see you!

A coat of curious color
That offers the eye pallor,
Long threadbare to soonest sag
And straight goes into a bag….

Delight not in robe you’ve got,
Last wearer had liked it not;
Underneath its arms ink blot
And on its left breast blood clot.

Choose the true wisdom or don’t:
On this talking not a lot;
In ignorance one could rot
While asking A Big Fool’s “What?”

Those Who Others Wives Eye

Those who others wives eye
Aren't ready to say 'why'?:
When they do,package 'lie'
They give colourful dress
And remember to press:
"Has got nose of Grandma,
Who loved to read prima!"

They soonest away fly,
Who would others'wives eye:
No other option try,
If it'd end up in a mess,
Down drag him more or less;
Herman out for long stress...

A full stop not comma
To acts flawed by karma.

Hair Dye and Others

For The Massively White-Haired
And comments on it he'd heard:
The ever youthful old,
Who cannot his vexed arms fold;
Could keep wishing to head hide,
As folks troop out for a ride...

For those Nature ate their pie,
Who would soonest breathe a sigh
And they must recover it
Or fall into nearby pit...

One thing to like about Dye:
To Disliked colors Good-Bye;
The fainter ones on garments
That keep igniting laments;
For Grey Hairs and sickly ones
Every strand changing at once...

Dye for seekers to not die
And help their busy roads ply.

In Staid Stillness

In staid stillness let us receive
with gratitude, each breath we take,
making mind tranquil like a lake,
negating schemes ego does weave,
for whose demise we need not grieve,
that in quietude we awake,
in staid stillness.

Burden of fear we chose to heave
was evidently a mistake,
which at soonest, we'd best forsake,
compelling ego to take leave,
in staid stillness.

12-October-2022

Rondine 
a(R)bbaabR abbaR
@ 8 syllables per line

Say Sorry To the Broke

Learn to say ‘Sorry’ to who is broke:
Don’t him near to make of it a joke,
Even if you were to him Nice Bloke
Or playfully would his rib-cage poke;
He’s now saddled with burdensome yoke 
And easily could in whisky soak.

Remember it’s ‘Sorry’ to The Broke
Rib-cracking it might be leave your joke
The once-tuneful voices, a croak
So Trifling Words - For God’s Sake! - don’t fit
Some in helpless chairs cheerfully sit
But soonest mortally themselves hit!

Nancy and Necromancy

Many Gentlemen fancy Nancy
But for one Nancy kept her fancy:
Thirty- year old Gilbert Tansi,
Whose meeting with her had been chancy…

The- Interested-in-Necromancy,
Near a cemetery his tenancy;
Now, Nancy wants him “Necromancer”,
Leave his Hotel job as Hot Bouncer;
If Tansi does so, he’s paid her price:
Indeed, from Hollow Cup thrown Best Dice…

Nancy with Cancer might soonest die
But would still want his kisses like Pie:
A Necromancer- Necrophilia
Would match a Deceased Nymphomania.

Dave Risks Early Grave

Let us at Risk-Taking Dave
Lengthily rave 
For choosing to live in a cave
Also, The Choice of a Gorilla
That could demolish a stout slave
And wrestling Victory not release to a Godzilla …

To Risk-Courting Dave
Now in Echoing Cave
To improve on His high Octave
Mention that he’s risking an early grave
For not being The Muscularly Brave
That termites his fresh corpse shall crave
As he deigns to ways for it pave …

The soonest of requiems in a nave
For his life he never could save
With pleas Gorillas aside wave.

Offenseless

Surrender your ill feeling
Exchange it for due healing
Years have seen you offended
And they hoarded all that God intended
In position, provision and power.
That you grumble at the hour
And all the dreams and perks unforthcoming
Rage and unease in your heart are swarming
It makes your chest to heavy to bear
And if a cloak, too heavy to wear

With such a soul borne stain
Wouldn't power only swell the pain
Wouldn't treasure trample even the sacred
Praise for calibre would go to rebellion instead
And in the wake of heroes of wars
Will be the mourning of scores
So has God in love and wisdom
Refrained many from the spoils of the Kingdom
To save them and to save others
Lest even the staunchest faith withers

Every heart rests on His scales
And let it come to pass that after many fails
That I soonest lay down every burden
And cease to be lost amongst the brethren
Sanctify myself into a vessel of honour
Fear and trembling be salvation's working manner
Pressing on like those that God made great.
That I may grow in stature and in state
In time, in step and in tune
So I and destiny can commune

K. Muitherero.

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