Poison, poison, poison.
Something’s gone rotten.
A knife in its rightful place.
Bullets ascending from unstable ground.
A swarm of scythes curl around my joints.
As the metal cools my skin,
I feel the abyss taking over.
This angel of death wants me.
Something denies her, yet it’s not me.
What is it, somebody just tell me.
The sound of claws scratching torments my ears.
I quiver with fear, there must be a way out.
She’s so close, her gaze is right there.
A golden mace tainted with rodent fur.
Collapsed, coughing blood.
What a familiar feeling.
Dancing shadows, laughing and singing.
Are there others in the room?
The void whispers, playing tricks on my ears.
Endless tears leave stains on my skin.
Thousands of ears can’t hear my screams.
She won’t let me live, it won’t let me die.
A heartbeat never ceases—
it just stops moving.
Lifeless, numb, and cold.
We've been playing this game for so long,
trying to find where we went wrong.
Each time I'd think I'd learned the rules,
you'd change them, so again I'm the fool.
Over and over you manage to score;
wearing me down; hurting me more.
I don't see how I can do this again
when I know there's no way I can win.
But play or give up; either way I choose,
there will be no winner, so we both lose.
~ aka 'Forever War' ~
Israel won't quit fighting until every Hamasnik is dead
Hamas won't quit fighting until every last Jew on earth is bled
clash of egos,
differences
of perspectives
stalls fluidity.
a partnership dissolves
ideas
once a mountain stream
flowing
seamlessly,
now a trickle;
static electricity.
synergy,
at rest;
in a state of stagnation.
they've assumed
the position
of chess pieces
from which
no further move.
is possible.
Our life is a chess game
If your king’s dying,
Don’t be checkmate
But try for a stalemate
Bite size poem no.20
6/09/2021
when a soulmate dies ~ life quickly becomes a stalemate.
bite size poem# 10
~~A chess match is an opaque mirror into societal clash.
Slippery rules and taboos playing upon a checkered past.
Balcony kings and queens glaring down on the lower caste.
Ramparts buttressing crooked flanks, serfs in the murky front.
Devouring dirt, taking the brunt of many skirmishes to come.
Senators riding sky horses, gliding so high above the fight.
Neighing nonsense -fanning their brand of hellfire lies.
Speedy-tongued bishops blitzing on the slanted slide.
In our faces, showcasing only the wrongs of our lives.
Black and white toppling ungracefully to the side.
Flimsy smiles and flint handshakes without dialogue.
Another fiery stalemate on the blazing horizon.
We became blind to His love for us
Failing to honor Him in our worship
His choices now offend us
And our offerings now offend Him
Our hearts refuse to take Him in
So, we go through the motions
For the appearance of respectability
We are hypocrites
Asking Him for His blessing
While dishonoring His name
We have turned back from following Him
Our speech becomes ever more sinful
Showing partiality in His instructions
Showing lack of influence by the Spirit
We are disillusioned
Accusing Him of injustice
Because the wicked are prospering
While our own service to Him is unprofitable
So, we withhold from Him
And become more self-assertive
Dealing treacherously with each other
We are lacking spiritual kinship
Yet, it's because of His justice
We still have space to repent
To return to Him and regain His blessing
To avoid the curse and coming judgment
He will send Elijah before that Day
To break the stalemate
in the game of life
please don’t treat me like a pawn
the next move is yours
12/29/17
Two sat at a table where the board lay
Gears turning, pondering a play.
Simple conversation was being made;
Talking and talking, but few thoughts were said.
They exchanged many a move,
Probing at the other’s mind.
Very little sufficed to reveal their intent —
However, the ever-cautious pair, riddled with doubt
Felt petrified of decision without
Some explicit,
Some undeniable,
Some irrefutable notion to confirm
What they had surmised from their conduct
Inevitably, the two grew tired of their exchange,
Waiting for a sign that never came
They rose from their posts;
Frustrated,
Disappointed.
They left and travelled their separate ways,
And haven’t seen each other to this day.
The early days were bubbles
When days passed in moments
And the air between us
Never escaped.
Soon after something died
As if it was all normal
Like you blow off the candles
After a romantic dinner.
When silence became the norm
We didn't ask why,
There wasn't a breaking storm,
Not even a feisty sky.
Then,
One day she was gone.
We still love each other
Strange as it may sound.
Now we want to be friends.
Who could have known then
This is how it ends,
In a stalemate.
Placed 3rd: Strand choice C contest by Brian Strand
We stand not five metres apart
The light flickers, then stops, then starts!
We stand assessing how this ends?
Heart beat thuds, pulse quickens
For a moment we see past the hate
For a moment this is more than a stalemate!
Enemies are supposed to fight
But through the eyes of the people we are we see tonight
Not soldiers, not killers, not slaves!
We don't have to end it this way
I'll lower my gun and walk away
If you agree that you'd like to see another day?
We don't speak the same language, no words pass between us
But somehow both understand
That we are too young to die tonight for the plans of fools, for the hate of men.
This universe is a chequered board
Where facts are sacrificed as pawns
To defend ideas antediluvian.
Our horizon is constantly receding
Knowledge and ignorance clash
Ending in a stalemate.
the fight between day and night
light and dark
fantasy and fear
they have come to a stop
come to a conclusion
and stopped the feuding
for now the fighting
has stopped
for now they are at
a stalemate
for now they live in peace
til' the day
til' the day
the fighting heats up again.
Imagine imagine
The forest clandestine,
The waterfall, sinless and grand.
Alone in the stillness,
A heart-halting illness,
Beleaguers you, seizing command.
Affairs of the vengeful,
So darkly and dirgeful,
So beautifully stated with lust.
With fate you are weighted,
With passion created,
But constantly lacking in trust.
Discordant and jarring,
Emotions are barring,
The musical mystics are spry.
In heaven artistic,
In hell optimistic,
On earth realistic, they die.
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