Once upon a happenstance,
she fell into a swift trance.
This view felt ordinary,
that was what made it scary.
Every flower was in bloom,
still you should never assume.
Spots of energy raging,
can you feel what it’s staging?
With that sweet breath of magic,
nothing here could be tragic.
Timeless beauty’s engaging,
the Fey have be-spelled aging.
A wand touching a mushroom,
you hear its rhythm go vroom.
There is a weight to carry
to take in this scenery.
A victim of circumstance,
once upon a happenstance.
sky cracked
hunchback
moon spreads
her bed
window
soft glow
staging
chasing
nighttime
lifetime
coming
going
sleep tears
sleep fears
brim full
hollow
I saw within the midst of it all,
The language, the idols.. the culture and history of the fall,
As if they owned the language and created these words long ago,
And the population just doesn't know,
Groups upon groups of layers unseen,
Claiming this is how we built our societies,
Staging fools to ruin and desensitizing their beliefs,
When Jesus came to set their hearts free,
Claiming they started words, taking out, and added to,
That they have been more in control of what we all knew,
You say in Jesus name..they cringe at the sight,
Using man's words and meanings against them, counteracting with loves might,
He will ruin our plots and ruin our plans,
To control the people and control the land,
The one who came here and fought for loves behalf,
Who sacrificed his entire life for the love of man,
Yet isn't it enough for everyone to see,
When you say Jesus name their animosity,
Because it's the opposite, and they want control,
Love counteracts all the knowledge of what they think they know.
water
his undertow
where seagulls still cry for
his touch on the stiffening mast
sails gone
sea swept —
his shipwreck
staging her oars
whispers in the water
she screams
She’s at it again.
Wasting my ink
staging yet another death.
I draft her crimson melodramas
with third-hand metaphors
as she sips on ‘hope’ like tonic
laced with rust
and wears ‘moor’ like thrift-store perfume.
I thread her June into
forced sonnets (poor things),
before her gin drowned the meter
in proofed regret.
Even a pen gets impatient.
Sometimes she pauses,
as though it might save her—
I rooted for her to mature
but talent won’t bloom from
immature theatrics.
Still, I ink her curtain call—
the curse of being a vessel.
All aboard the bizarre Farage barge..
Unless of course you are from abroad..
.
Narcissist catalyst.. old school fraud..discord twist..
Can't resist.. staging the raging red mist..
Fist of Mob rule tryst does persist..
Depraved raves..insist..craved faves..
Won't save slaves & knaves..
Hellbent they are sent..
To graves under the waves…
Foolish votes for ghoulish gloats..
Seedier media leaders lying..
Defying the dying..
Folks crying..ghastly ghostly boats..
Crude jokes delude..lewd masterstrokes denude..
Corporate rascal castle debacle floats..
On dank murky murderous moats..
Scuffles.. muffles ruffles & kerfuffles
Pokes & provokes just for bank notes..
The ubiquity of inequity
This poem or tome..
Every face…race should be.
Free to roam..
In this place..
We all call home..
Tears form in my eyes,
It's no surprise.
I can't understand why,
I don't really want to die.
I know its unhealthy,
But I Loved getting high.
It's hard to stop this guy,
The harder i try,
The more I cry.
Giving in again,
Strengthening his Tie.
Every time I Deny,
It's urges,
He surges forth,
Searching for More,
Running through my core.
A mental war,
Until we score.
Riding the Lightning,
Crashing to the floor.
"I can't take it any more,"
My Spirit roars.
All the Cells Implore,
The need to restore,
Balance to this Machine.
Screaming I wean,
Changing the Routine.
Intervening in between,
What's dirty and clean.
Fruits of wisdom to glean,
Rearranging the scene.
Staging the past,
Clearing the screen.
Removing the obscene,
Learning what i mean,
Becoming a Power Unforeseen.
The Other guy,
Remains to be seen.
In autumn, I came upon a garden of errant souls
And saw several souls sequestered there.
Some were well-known and some were fools,
But others were only tarrying there.
Though the sanguine souls were tall in bloom,
there were stunted souls among them.
I wondered why tall souls gave the short ones room;
And, in the end, accepted them.
Tears flowed from the stunted souls,
And I cried along with them,
Knowing their earthly sins had taken tolls.
I marveled at this hospice garden’s lack of strife,
Considering each soul’s long and hurtful history
Of sins they committed during their earthly life
Before they were planted in this secluded purgatory.
Slowly, I removed my battle-worn defensive armor
Once I realized this garden was a hallowed staging place
Wherein souls were healing deep wounds to their Karma.
As soon as healing started, souls grew tall to greet God’s grace.
And now, He was gathering the tallest ones in His arms
So that He could take them through His Pearly Gates.
A conch shell idles
on a serendipitous shoreline
a nearby sea furthers
as an ebbing tide yields its hold
a sudden breath
of mountain freshness
swoops through the meadowlands
then out to sea
merely ere it brushes
a fortuitous shore
indulging its way about a conch shell
breathing a chord
of harmonic bellows
in suite succession
of a favorable staging
a retiring star
aweigh to setting
yon receptive horizons
the sun
low in the sky
yearns for a leap into night
as shadows squeeze their way into bedrooms
like shapeless dragons
for children
cocooned to an early bed
staging thoughts like puppet plays
on a wall terrain
of mossy caverns or whispering vines
that never merge dreams smoothly
when children imagine the huff and puff of shadows
like creatures swimming in circles
overlapping at a patchwork distance
before the painted black of night
quiets the pull of imagination
in the candy cane bend of sleep
blueberry hued moon
lullaby on stardust waves -
solaces embrace
all the lighting dimmed
cryptic fairies azure blue -
audacious staging
They are a group of people with special powers,
They are a class of people with unique abilities,
Males and females with human frailties,
They are united in their pursuits.
Called to be defenders,
They stand against their contenders,
Who are unrelenting in staging their rage,
Putting the non-mutants into their cage.
They are a formidable team
Their unique powers beam
into every dark alley and sinister trail,
To expose every villain without fail.
A group founded by one man,
With a vision to teach and train every mutant,
To be justice and peace pursuant,
And to be a force for good.
February 20, 2023.
Marvel Superhero or Supervillain Poetry Contest,
Robert James Liguori.
There once was a president who
decided to stage a coup
so he gathered a mob
the election to Rob
But Pence he could not subdue
11-28-2022
Breezing purple vibes of nocturnal delight
Eventide’s afterglow blushes sanguine night
As leaves chromatic swirl, waltzing to alight
Bestowing gilded motifs on dreamy sight
Sprinkling ebullience on meadows aglow
Exuberant in celebration of celestial show;
Where crescent moon adorns opaline skies
Staging dancing stars for enchanted eyes
As constellations choreograph stellar art
Enthralling intimations of enamored heart
Embracing invitation of amorous dreams
Enticing sweethearts’ passionate themes.
Farther in distance, ocean ebbs and flows
Strumming rhythms cresting-tides compose
As together we rejoice gift of nature’s glee
On a leisurely walk, meandering carefree,
Tranquil in tease of zephyrs flirting along
Indulgent in euphony of nightingale’s song.
Hosting quietude we amble miles and miles
Adorning happiness glinting vigor of smiles
Engaging revelry, shedding travails of day,
Lauding harmony gracing nature’s pathway,
Purposefully musing in wonderment of time
Thrilling glamor of beauteous night sublime.
November 16, 2022
Poem of the day on November 18, 2022
Placed1st: Beauty of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Sitting with steaming tea in hand,
Guaging the storm raging outside,
Splitting the sky is lightning grand,
Waging a war staging rain ride,
Bellowing thunder tears the sky,
Mellowing, her heart wears a sigh!
11.11.2022
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