Don’t let the mind build fires in the dark,
Where heavy thoughts leave a burning mark.
They say that the worry that tugs at your sleeve
Is a pyre waiting for you to grieve.
It consumes without heat, with a hollow sound,
Turning your spirit to ash on the ground.
You’ve walked the miles in the sun’s heavy glare,
Dragging the plough through the stagnant, thick air.
Months of the labour, the sweat, and the grit,
Yielding more strength than the candle you lit.
Yet one flash of anger, a spark in the chest,
Steals from the spirit its promise of rest.
We break our backs under the harvest moon,
Humming a tired, productive tune.
We mend the fences, we gather the grain,
Finding a solace in the ache and the pain.
For work is a bridge that leads to the day,
While worry just stands in the light of the way.
So lay down the baggage, the ghosts in the hall,
Don’t let the shadow make you feel small.
A moment of rage costs more than the years
Spent working the fields through the sweat and the tears.
Be kind to the vessel, be gentle, be slow,
And let the cold pyre extinguish its glow.
Stagnant love is inviting death,
steer clear of it with every breath.
Sweet red roses and ice,
attractive yet never changing.
In the search for everlasting,
dark chocolates roll the dice.
Enjoy the most intimate talk,
turn the world off go for a walk.
Passion blooms in silence,
those romantic escalations.
Such exciting revelations,
a smile feeds confidence.
Sip lips just like morning coffee,
caffeine fires playful energy.
Bittersweet pick me up,
the rollercoaster is the cream.
Let your body begin to hum,
the kiss precedes a scream.
Lonely leaf afloat
Along the muddy eddies
Swirling, stuck endlessly
"stagnant pond paradox symphony No. 8 opus 21"
when all
was said
and done
it was just
tin
nit
us
destroying nature
haiku maritime limbo~
environment change
flights of thought suspended
emotions postponed
scintillations unravelled
circular stagnation
levitation time warped
inside the Buddha meets trepidation
loincloth gets looser
scent candles burn blisters
on sandalwood base
fused with a valley of tears
a river flows backwards
in which one cannot swim twice
third time fortunate
he finds middle ground
inspired by expiration
middle way between
desperation and movement
From paper bags to plastic bags
From manual cars to automatic cars
From telephones to handphones
But in the political world
The world stays stagnant
For just a split second
The youngsters who are the future hosts
Never take concern
And emerge to take over any responsibilities
We see oldies who are leaving sooner or later
Taking concern of everything
The youngsters still got many years to go
Sure they aren't willing to face
A future world of chaos and poverty
I feel just like a stagnant star
Bold and beautiful,
But can’t get far.
My eyes are shining
With unshed tears
My heart radiates the heat
Of long-held fears.
My soul brushed With touches of gold
But to humankind they’ve naught been told.
A Star, indeed, yet stuck so-
Ready to bloom into Divinity, ready to grow
Into a shining Nova that consumes every other star
But consequences allow that I will not get far.
Staged or Stagnant
The gathering of people,
from here and there,
and everywhere,
made possible
by time.
What is important to each person,
yet more important to another,
then the one that is waiting
to hear?
Silence is not possible,
the sound of breathing alone...
a storm of air and wind.
Whispers turned to screaming,
left in echoes for the past to reflect.
The question of why,
never considered.
No one brave enough
to ask.
What was let loose?
How did it happen?
Who gave them permission
to put us all at risk?
Stand your ground when the dogs come,
they will be hungry.
Hold tight to your morals,
and do not give in...
to temptation.
A consistently poor wage
Licenses rage:
An ugly fight against the cage,
Steady enveloping of stagnant wage,
A temper warning every wedge,
Rising while lowered with vintage.
Hirers open a sterile page,
Not a complimenting line for a sage:
Reflections of his usage,
Not a half paragraph for his adage…
The low income earner won’t this manage,
Nor life in his fatiguing village:
The vast hum drums sight,
Of farm-tools tauntingly bright,
For all their promises of fast tillage,
Putting The Townie at a disadvantage.
Any hopelessly downsized wage,
Is cash that the teeth sets on edge,
The Hired white with shock
Over Hirer’s heart of steely lock.
(Revised and changed)
O victim of time's rage,
Of today's ill times and age,
Victim of nurtured false image!
O ye much-eulogized Goddess,
Deemed powerful and loving no less,
Few care if ye do or not bless.
If ladles and the like ye wield,
Home-making thrusted as your field,
Ye know, as field it fails to yield.
What power can wield your pots and pans?
Still, ye wield ah what techno yen!
In varied fields ye vie with ken.
And yet, nor are ye much empowered,
Nor yet with due fair respect heard,
Society hast your equity soured.
With a million things to meddle,
Tireless upon a sad saddle,
With what vigour ye still juggle.
O ye Home-maker so handsome,
Look at still your hubby’s ho-hum:
He says: she! She just stays at home!
________________________________
This ode addresses the plight of women at large as so-called home-makers. The last line highlights this. A man, when asked as to what his wife was doing, says, 'she just stays at home! Alas, times change and still stay stagnant!
Ode | 19.12.2019 |
There was no place to wade
in the stagnant pools of Corona.
The virus sank our feet into the mire.
Help was on the way, as we submerged
into the cesspool.
You are just not, concerned about growth
You do what you want, but don't push envelopes
Won't go beyond, or outside comfort zones
You are a man that's stagnant
You stick to routines, and do the same things
Refuse to do anything new, yeah that's weak
Can not push boundaries, as a creature of habit
You are a man that's stagnant
As the wolves over the rocky snow
Strikes for food and supremacy with
Fierce claws and devouring strength
So lies the desire on all to lead
As the mountain stands tall and
Proud within our land and coast
With all eyes pointing to their
Structural beauty so is the helmet
Of desire for juniors to become seniors
As mothers are glad to nurse their babies
So are their daughters happy to become
Wives crown with that name mother
Yet the crown of actualization is in
Patience
Silhouetted Stagnant Shadows
Stagnant shadows of night sequestered slaves in sight
Faces fading in fright as the fear feeds the lethargic light
Silhouettes of love in plight demons dancing in delight
As darkness devours the white, images surreal will smite
Within negative reflections of my loves dire defections
Outlines of lost connections metaphors of misdirection’s
Dormant internal infections reliving raging resurrections
Silhouetted projections of my dismal depleting affections
Black portraits of palpable pain never to rejoice and regain
Darkened phantoms of grain scornfully sabotaging the sane
Deceivers of the defiant drain tragically tangled of the twain
Vanity in a voiceless vain the sentinels stand in their reign
A dark matter display particles of light have gone astray
Within a decomposing decay a silhouetting fractal buffet
In my capturing love delay, silent shadows bitterly betray
And now my dreams are far away within a black hole ballet.
Sept.08.2017
Silhouette
Sponsored by... Craig Cornish
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