The King stepped up and set his goal.
Screamed, "Things must change or heads will roll."
Wide-eyed council plead, please prepare!
No grain is left and our coffer's bare.
As I fear we must, though I do abhor.
"Guards! Squires! Knights!...Now, prepare for WAR!"
With dreams of battle and gallant deeds,
They all stepped up and mounted steeds.
They raised their swords and stormed the castle,
But, the King declared, "S'not worth the hassle."
They turned and fled, tho thought him bonkered.
With no riches left, his Kingdom's conquered.
on parallel shore
I wander where waves caress
no footprints online
only brine, rock, and seabirds
to echo that I'm present
screens flare like lures do
hooking the curious in—
I keep eyes blinkered
knowing one slip starts the plunge
into hours I cannot spare
my life is fragile
ink seeps slowly into grain
behind the latched gates
I paint in colours unseen
where regret can't get a breach
no mast light for me
no beacon on shoreline gleams-
I sail without charts
my course drawn by phantom steeds
into the void in your world
I burn my candle
past the eyes that never blink
past networks alight—
your grid can't trap my shadow
your feed can't name what I am
I live analogue
unseen on parallel lines
that starves intruders
wanting to click, like and feed
on clocks that don't keep your time
no mast light for me
no beacon on the shoreline—
I sail without charts
my course drawn by unseen stars
in the space between your worlds
Sly low tide sneaks up to smooch the smooth shore
that holds old footsteps left behind us
and lends itself to sand castles
standing guard until high tide
plovers dart on fleet feet
across sodden sands
spindle-legged girls
hunt conch shells —
starfish
found!
Blue
waters
glistening
aqua appeal —
white horse sea-magic
spindrift manes rise from crests
awakened from lowest ebb
high tide arrives on thunder hooves
body-surf Neptune’s steeds to the shore —
my wet hair dries to sun-bleached beachy waves…
Riders exert steering forces
Horses respond and track courses
For gait-along ease
A dah-dit leg squeeze
Serves steeds and their Morse code sources
Medieval times
A time of splendour
With gallant Knights
Ladies so slender
Jousting tournaments
The ladies all squeal
Exploding of hoofs
The clash of steel
Enter the Black Knight
To a round of jeers
The White Knight enters
To resounding cheers
First pass no foul
They try it once more
The Knight in White
Slumps to the floor
They carry him off
And tend to his wounds
A Blue Knight appears
The ladies all swoon
The maidens favourite
Known far and wide
Lord Richard of Leeds
His lance by his side
They ready for battle
Shields are in place
Masks of armour
Covering their face
Towards each other
They gallop full speed
Lances held high
The snorting of steeds
The Black Knight falls
The hero wins out
Blue Knight celebrates
Victory in the joust
Approaching the King
Horse and rider bow
The people go wild
Allegiance they vow
Medieval times
Hail to the King
Jousting tournaments
What glory they bring
Medieval times
A time of splendour
With gallant Knights
Ladies so slender
Jousting tournaments
The ladies all squeal
Exploding of hoofs
The clash of steel
Enter the Black Knight
To a round of jeers
The White Knight enters
To resounding cheers
First pass no foul
They try it once more
The Knight in White
Slumps to the floor
They carry him off
And tend to his wounds
A Blue Knight appears
The ladies all swoon
The maidens favourite
Known far and wide
Lord Richard of Leeds
His lance by his side
They ready for battle
Shields are in place
Masks of armour
Covering their face
Towards each other
They gallop full speed
Lances held high
The snorting of steeds
The Black Knight falls
The hero wins out
Blue Knight celebrates
Victory in the joust
Approaching the King
Horse and rider bow
The people go wild
Allegiance they vow
Medieval times
Hail to the King
Jousting tournaments
What glory they bring
Artifacts of artistry
Approach a blurred mind trembling
And we will go remembering
When youth meets with despair.
On steeds of deeds a galloping,
Surrendering our luck;
We pluck from life a pear or two
With lips pressed dripping;
Owning only Time.
We make it rhyme, by God,
We make life fine.
While on the sands of Israel
Beneath the twilight sky
We find our Babylon within
A newborn baby's cry.
All of us, each one, is not alone.
The Light that is the soul of us
Still burns where Love is shone.
the ravishing revolution,
a wanton waltz of war,
where proud generals prance,
with bloody,
bruised hearts' saw,
their noble steeds,
a phalanx of fantasy,
trample the trembling,
tender/timid/bereft/faint,
the mere infinite.
in this bloody ballroom,
where death's dark majesty reigns,
the lubricious language love/lust,
of liberty's sweet pains,
is reduced to snarling insolence,
a dry, dusty joke,
as kings and queens of chaos,
trade in promiscuous fortune,
and bottomless debt,
and ravaged/rotten hope.
Dimpled dents, not potholes I love,
Fair unfair both, all doles I love.
With most voted horses on sale,
Steeds, stallions, colts and foals I love.
Popular may be peoples’ rule,
Ought such recurrent polls I love?
If scored with the fair ends and aims,
All penalty scored goals I love.
Should they turn to diamond one day,
Carbons of all the coals I love.
________________________
Ghazal |27.09.2024|love
Souper Warriors ride on steeds they call Muse
Defeating enemies with words they choose
There steeds take them where the wind blows
Word warriors whose poetry grows
They battle mythical beasts in lands far away
Wielding metaphoric swords on their prey
Sailing oceans, riding the storms
Each adventure brings new forms
They battle dragons with fiery breath
With a thrust of their swords dragon takes last breath
Their realm knows no bounds
They go where the challenge is found
9-7-2024
The rusted Ferris wheel, a skeletal hand,
Points to a sky it can no longer command.
Once, laughter echoed, joy on the breeze,
Now silence reigns, whispered by the trees.
The carousel horses, their paint chipped and worn,
Dream of merry-go-rounds, of days yet unborn.
Once, children squealed, clinging to their steeds,
Now shadows dance, where happy laughter bleeds.
The cotton candy stand, its windows cracked and dim,
Holds the ghost of sweetness, a forgotten whim.
Once, sugary clouds, a magical delight,
Now only dust motes, swirling in the light.
The roller coaster track, a metal serpent curled,
Whispers of thrills, a forgotten world.
Once, screams of delight, a dizzying race,
Now only rust and wind, in this silent space.
The park stands empty, a monument to time,
A reminder of moments, once so sublime.
The ghosts of laughter, echo in the breeze,
Whispering of memories, of happy, carefree days.
Horses, hearty and hale,
Hither they hurry, hooves hitting the trail.
Hear their harmonious hum,
Heavy with history, homeward they come.
Heads held high, with haughty grace,
Hair flowing free, a flowing mane's embrace.
Harness and halter, a humbling hold,
Humble steeds, stories untold.
Hoofs beat a rhythm, a rhythmic refrain,
Horsepower and heart, a powerful strain.
Heroes of history, heroes of yore,
Horses, forever, we'll forever adore.
Sunlight spills on sprightly steeds,
Spring's sweet song stirs sleeping seeds.
Spirited stallions, sleek and swift,
Sashaying through the springtime mist.
Silken shadows shift and sway,
In the serene, splendid break of day.
Three thoroughbreds rambunctiously thrive,
Their thunderous thumps come alive.
Pastures painted in subtle shades of green,
Outstretched playground, pure and pristine.
Playful prancing, powerful paces,
Pleasure painted on their faces.
Celebrating, chasing, carefree,
Cascading manes, wild and free.
In the cozy, comforting light,
Spring's splendor shines so bright.
Frolicking freely, feeling fine,
For this trine, dazzling day so divine.
Eternal energy, ever so spry,
Beneath the vast, vibrant sky.
Coruscating Fire, Wielding Shields Of Knights
Brandishing Spears Sacred as Light,
Crusading Upright St.George Like
Into Fields Of Destiny with Steeds Of Epic Flight,
Chasing Legends
Dicing and Slashing, Full Speed In Gleaming Sabatons
These days want and need are 2 different steeds
You see the things you don't like about yourself
You stand your ground but the ground is now a river
Missing rein's becomes the child's chagrin
Evil grin
sinner teeth
Bad taste with your sour face
No direction identified true
Make you appear in one place then displaced
Why didn't they give me the answers
Before I discovered the question
The story of life is yours but nobody will know
You can tell us you have no feelings
No subtle clue
Will it all change tomorrow
Telling us dictating preaching never repressed
Remembered oppressed
You can change
But it won't help you in this life
What you see around you
There's alot of ignoring while running for the door
A place I can take you to hear the truth
But still you see fictitious moments of whats right with grey
I believe in mathematics
It expresses it self
In every breathe every movement
The 21 grams of death
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