Is it supposition,
or a disposition?
The object of a fear,
for something one holds dear?
Maybe a past trauma,
or some melodrama?
Some midnight novel,
or a heart-based grovel?
Decisions handed-down,
like a man with a crown!
To label some poor soul,
for whom no bell will toll!
Your silence is deafening,
As are the expressions you have yet to utter.
Ideas you mutter
Have fallen onto attentive ears,
One who hears
Conceptualizations you have yet to speak of
And notions you have only since dreamed of.
A supposition of love,
Perhaps not the state of being in love,
Leading to holding her above
The pedestal. For in this moment,
Her feet are too sterling
To be sullied by the dust
Left so carelessly on the plinth
That has yet been handled
Since the assumed maiden
Devastated your heart and abandoned it.
She left it vacant,
Allowing the new artisan to place gracefully
In her hand, the brush of crimson paint,
Renewing the color
That the crone thieved of you.
A warning is passed onto,
Sent so loudly
That your ears can't seem to
Indulge on the phrases.
Spells of dejection to offer many a protection,
Shouting to hold your deafening silences
And allow her to run mad.
For she can hear all that is unspoken,
Her understanding, unbroken,
But speaking it aloud
Leaves all emotions open.
15.
Honest Lie
Lady someone asked young beautiful man
Grace supposition as elegant swan
Paired male eyes upon her up to down
Wears he anonymous smile nor frown
“Fairy dear!” cries mouth's obvious honest lie.
-01/05/2007
(Dumarao)
*Topsy-Turvy Limerick Ironic
Rock salted fields hard-by thwacking sea's
shorelines of wave-shaved boulders
a fluidity that mimics an oceans alien speech.
The fractured artifacts of tribal migrations
roll in the surf as grains of an ancient sand,
there are hints and a sense of raw faiths,
of the obscure paint of submerged visages,
facets only visible
through the eroded lens of a former doom.
On these shifting margins,
insipient nations as naked as any roaming wind
declined amidst their own young bones,
laying down to wither away in exhausted camps.
Rinsed by a ceaseless ebb and flow,
the stonewashed threads of the bygone
suggest landscaped formations
of humanity.
We have seen the rise and fall of the scattered,
their cultures a supposition of burnt offerings,
yet we should also
confess to a towering significance:
one that we estranged settlers
will eventually leave as a jigsaw of watermarks,
or as further innocent signs
of our own barbaric existence.
Lost
fumbling
past Eden’s
apple blossoms
winds swirl confetti
conjuring up blizzards
snow globes shake reality
awareness of a world in flux
supposition heaven may exist
built by a deity nothing like me
life’s edgy I trip spontaneously
vector on without destination
or memories how it began
anyway there is no end
just chaotic tangents
cosmic quasi-ness
and one perfect
innate flaw
that i’m
here
A petition has intiaton.' On border soverigenity.' Midst angst
And supposition ? In one dimention flow of people..Has
Been a staple, before Noah sailed over the silenced; and hidden
Creations.' Yet subject to conditions i e ( travellers funding
Available craft? the (prevailing tides and seasons ) allowing
Integration, of benefit to any nation.' Any artifice; or abberation
Type's Cannot justify, it is my inclination.' Only in the 1700s
Enslaved peoples in ( massed movement ) mirror of the
Current.' And did such not cause misery.? The 1970's
Was a purging, a cathartic stage' of (that un-normal) un-needed instancy.) driven by such materialistic social engineering originally.!
In a certainty of lunacy.' So in Britian late 2024 a petion is
Now set forth.' To seal all borders for a full five years course.' In normal
Times such would be ludicrous.' Yet in consideration of what we see' with
All the currant human misery..' It now appears most judicious and not at all Im-prudent; to use.' as i can see.)
From compose, comes composition
From suppose, supposition
From depose, deposition
From dispose, disposition
From oppose, opposition
From repose, reposition
From propose …
“Each One of Us”
A new life born
borne immaculate
in a way,
that no one
buried in supposition
need ever explain
the questions
irrelevant
the motive mute
in the heart
of each one
of us
the answer
from the Other
astute
undeniable,
the motive -
each one of us,
The Truth.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Christmas Day,
Sydney - Australia
25.12.23
“When the power of LOVE
overcomes the love of power
the world will know peace.”
"Christmas, my child,
is LOVE in action.
Every time we LOVE,
every time we give,
it's Christmas."
"I'm not a Grinch, but would rather see an inch of
new growth on a tree then to fell it down to please me."
~ by poet
Quite earnestly, I would decree
it unjust to cut down a tree
then simply toss it as debris
It saddens me It saddens me
Trim it with ornaments and light
Praise its beauty every night
But it's dying, not from a blight
I feel contrite I feel contrite
They're glorified, as tradition
But trees don't give us permission
So, we are... in supposition
A mortician A mortician
Flocked with snow, their needles die
Drooping branches will certify
Christmas trees, humans crucify
When death is nigh When death is nigh
Trees place oxygen in our air
Replenishing what we can't spare
Everyone should be made aware
Does it seem fair Does it seem fair
We destroy them for our pleasure
Enjoying moments at leisure
They do more good than we measure
Nature's treasure Nature's treasure
A supposition:
If one queries or answers:
'.., my love" in nearly innumerable conversational situations, one can experience soulful harmony previously thought mere pipe dream or malicious tease.
Try it.
Who says the best things in life aren't free, my love?
The said hieroglyphics drove into the night,
Racked up its mystery, then parted and swiped,
Bellowed at suspicion and candid eye sight,
To foster fomented a reasoned parallax, piped.
Left to right, oppositely for contrite poise,
Firm doors open keen, quick ready pens,
Horizontal alignment - or vertical repose noise,
A quiet supposition leaks to radiate slight dens.
Nowhere are the changers and the dyes,
Tainting for pleasure with respect full in heart,
The sound of footsteps - here, there, with eyes,
Demarcating foundations from glittery art.
The ben is there - detected and rye, sucking,
Shuffling previous dust beside dirt untouched,
The crazy ones create the world for bucking:
Reason defines the fibre, with mesh touched.
Our Revolution sought limitations
On imposition of regulations,
But supplications met deprecation
And castigations not reformation.
Such condescension sparked protestation
And contemplation of separation;
This supposition stirred apprehension -
A premonition of confrontation.
But, declamations and remonstrations
Spurred agitation toward Declaration,
While provocations and deprivations
Steeled resolution for liberation.
War's prosecution, through execution,
Forged dedication for recognition;
Its culmination brought dissolution
And vindication for aspirations.
While extrication brought satisfaction
States' acclamations lacked definition.
This Federation showed imperfections;
Low validation forced redirection.
Deft composition penned Constitution;
Strong propositions scored affirmation.
Hence, generations find inspiration
And preservation their obligation.
-------------------------
Tell all the people yet to come
Democracy is what we chose;
Their mission's goal: protect it from
All foreign and domestic foes.
CONSIDERATIONS
unconscious
reverence
profoundly
different
sit
tendency
hope
is the spring
exquisite
& mysterious
the forgotten
fact
supposed
enough
by these
existential moments
became more
abstracted
prefiguring
diversion
or expectations
purely derivative
of condescension
deepened
with every
passing
illustration
precipitated
in
bright colours
& pattern
of
inventive genius
in
plain sight
ignored by
generations
of
reminiscence
romanticised
authentic
proof of
supposition
that reveals
more about
the fantastically
once
suppressed
a proliferations
suppressed
of
fiction
active assertive
&
&overdone
Wasting trillions
Poses implosion.
Innocent starved children.
Ukraine's exploding.
Little Sister's Mercy missions.
Business is closing.
Lost without vision.
Banks begin folding.
Mean streets turned Vicious.
Old structural erosion.
The cold war's gone Fission.
Supposition of votes.
Endless inquisitions.
Yet, an omen bell tolls.
The Road to Perdition,
Is paved in Fool's gold.
How many books, songs, poems and movies have been created
on the supposition that love is complicated?
Within their writings flows this message…
sometimes histrionic…sometimes understated
that, if it’s simple…it can’t be love…because love is complicated.
Example after example is given to prove their point with certainty
but there are others of us out here who look at love and beg to disagree.
For us love is as simple as realizing we are not alone…
that someone else’s happiness is more important than our own.
There are those of us whose hearts and minds have joyfully come to see
it is life that can be complicated…
but love doesn’t have to be.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.