Samara: "Opening the thimbles under the waxing moon, you'll wish it was waning in clock town's too soon."
Samael: "Over the mountain and through the woods to grandmother's house we go, with hand grenades and razor blades high-ho, high-ho, high-ho."
Uraeal: "To be so uncomely by the waxing moon is retarded at best, she picks too many daisies to be wolfish at a fest."
Helel: "Helel, or so I've heard, let's make this short and sour, for the dithery young girl."
Aurora: "Time passes like Time was incarnate let's ask the others here, if folly is so comely."
Gladius: "Moving the orchard like agrarian gregorian fools?" "Who made the large ice-bath beside the stilled moon?"
The Pro: "I came I saw I thwart not, sold out shows are not my conifers."
(Anonymized character) "I still build palaces on the moon, where stairway to heaven crosses the dark side of the moon."
---End of act IV---
To sunless blinding gloom of devil,
And wrapped in dark shadows of evil,
The soulless void of faith
Would sure befall ‘pon death---
Those that in ego’s spell their soul kill. || 3 ||
____________________
Translations | 03.09.2026 | dark, death, evil, faith, Rhyming Quintain
Note: This verse says, do not kill your soul, the atman, or else, …Bhagavad-Gita also says: uddharet atmana atmanam, na atmanam avasadayet... Lift up your soul by yourself, never thwart it. He’s your friend and foe depending on how you treat it.
There is wealth of wisdom in ancient Sanskrit texts . This series on Jewels from Upanishads covers selected verses from various Upanishads of which there are as many as 120. We select a few verses only the major ones, beginning with Ishaa Vaasyam. The translation here is not verbatim but freely done. The transliteration of the verse follows. Alas I have to remove all the transliteration symbols.
asuryah nama te lokah
andhena tamasa-avrtah |
tan te pretya abhi-gachchanti
ye ke cha atma-hanah janah || 3 ||
The word a-suryah means sunless, if spelled asuryah, it would mean barbaric or evil.
Enigmatic entropy endeavours the devouring of my depressive tendencies
In the form of an effaced anonymity
Pledging a tender hand to thwart the destruction of my anatomy
Distraught estrangement of in-autonomous tailing tellings
Shall cast this faceless stranger astray
Beyond the smooth syllables of an identifying name
For these hounds that thrash in the thick of sleep
And so do weep of singularity in accompanying company
Shall chase, shall gnaw at the face, the hand that feeds the freer frailty of freedom
And chaff this chance of a chance to escape
These samsaras of silence for the requiem of a dallied day
Dancing and dashing and prancing and thrashing
In the estranged fixation of this strange savior
That wilt know not of my inner ills, beyond the disfigurement of mine own outer mutilation
K.M.P
18//9//26
To honor someone’s talent
While excusing certain views
Which the world may deem offensive
Is the stuff that makes the news.
For a well-endowed museum,
With a Costume Institute,
Planned to showcase a designer
Who’s the face of ill repute.
Known for comments that disparage
People different from his type,
Nonetheless, his output thrives
With many drawn into the hype.
Yet the show for Galliano,
With Ms. Wintour’s staunch support,
Raised the hackles of some donors
And those critics got to thwart
What, to me, was recognition
That should surely be reserved
For designers with both talent
And integrity observed.
Sometimes those with too much power
Make decisions which, I’d bet,
Turn the tide to flow against them,
Though they harbor no regret.
When burdens rise and hopes grow dim, don't fear the shadows—call Him;
When faith grows weak and tears grow deep, trust every promise—call Him.
Though idols fail and kingdoms fade, His mercy still is standing;
He lifts the fallen, heals the broken with everlasting planning.
The Lord who formed both earth and sky still holds the world within His hand;
No power of man can thwart His will or change His perfect plan.
He says, "Call unto Me, and I will answer," rich in grace and truth untold;
He'll show you mighty things unseen, more precious far than silver or gold.
Before your first breath, He knew your name; before your first step, He led your way.
Walk close enough to hear His voice, and follow Him each day.
His sheep will know the Shepherd's call, His presence calms the storm within;
He hears, delivers, saves, restores—so never cease to call Him.
Be holy as your Father is, let every prayer draw nearer to Him;
Great things await the trusting heart that daily learns to call Him.
Through every trial, through joy or pain, His love will never grow dim—
Life's greatest victory is found by those who simply call Him.
My love stays strong each passing year,
Sister, you were just like my right hand,
Dying too young, our mother's worst fear,
To see the future, couldn't be done.
Anorexia took your youth and body,
Truly your life had just begun,
Open and shut like a fist in karate.
Our time spent together was too short,
Family and friends were torn apart,
Up in smoke not able to thwart,
To keep appearances nothing left to carte.
The tax on your body you paid the fee,
Predominantly killed both and kind,
Fatal issues that we didn't see,
Disease that clouded both are minds.
Trying to tear down, the walls that I've built,
Layer upon layer, like the finest silt.
A brick at a time, I tried to dismantle,
The process is slow, like a burning candle.
Agonizing and painful, the memories unfold,
Whispers and torment that's never been told.
Fighting sanity, and the right to stay sober,
Wanting nothing more, then to have closure.
Things that happened, weren't always by choice,
Speaking out, is my anguish a voice.
Weaving a tapestry, of lies and deceit,
Not changing my ways, I'm destined to repeat.
Accepting help, is hard for me to do,
You can't do it alone, that statement rings true.
Driving for change, I keep falling short,
Getting in the way, myself I must thwart.
Alas, ‘tis a tire, a tire o’thy ire
Hilli-ho! Bless ye enlightenment so,
O wonder is glutinous’n glory
Ho! So deem thee glutinous whence basking’n this glory!
Some push, some pull, cutting so deftly with idle energy
Chirrup! Ho, chirrup! Dance, do prance anyhow, everyhow
Professing unlike the former, latter insignificant thoughts
Chirrup! Why, clear away!
F’why hath this matter so?
Gladly glaze the superstition that supper is but brief
Conduct thee here, pulsing, thriving, alive here so
Bold young brooding worrywart
Thwart ye worries, in excitement and ecstasy and boyish buoyancy
And in an unbroken light enlighten, ho!
Stream beneath thee, bequeath thy soul!
F’one shall bask in glutinous glory afterall!
Yo-ho! Resolve thee, t’be a bran-new barmy mare.
28//1//26
The boy comes to a place on the sidewalk
As his sole prepares to waste it’s soul
The caterpillar calls out, shrieking calmly
Man, remember I am here
I don’t move as fast as you
So please, empathize with me
Man, why do you pretend
Pretend to be the object
That you loathe so deeply
A lustful thirst to be seen
Consumes the eyes of you
And ends the lives of youth
Man, why do try to find
So many reasons to end
What you’ve wanted so desperately
Since your first breath of sin
Man, man, man,
That lover doesn't feel like you
Could it be said that the knife
Cuts farther into the gold than the flesh
I can’t speak for you, man
Though your fleshy brain
Commands the cataclysm
To thwart your heart and optimism
And said with lonely intent,
Man,
Do what you wish onto yourself onto others
But do good for you and your lover
Not as a bad fellow did say
Felo de se
These lone fears, a raw howled wind
Did exacerbate
Can't thwart me today.
Nor gloomy cloud, those wept for
Filled with more dismay.
Winter-callous, this springtime
Walk does mitigate.
Enwrapped, visually
Of what of their heed shuts out;
Soft and fluttery.
Have you ever seen the satanic snake?
A fierce cheetah hunting with no mistake
A bloodthirsty wolf in the black sheep's clothes
How would it be if you find all in close?
Richard the third, the most villainous Duke
Known as a treacherous and selfish kook
Holds the status of the Duke of Gloucester
A saboteur, schemes as an imposter
Possess an ugly build with a hunchback
Hides his flaws as a professional flack
Feels menial for his deformity
Handles things with extreme enormity
A power monger and it's very clear
Cares not even to kill his near and dear
Strategically waits for chance and grabs
With his honeyed words, he always backstabs
By hook or by crook, wants to seize the throne
Cheats Lady Anne with his convincing tone
Spreads rumours to showcase the heirs unfit
Executes those who thwart with his outwit
When the battle at Bosworth in full swing
Stanley takes a U-turn and quits the ring
Unhorsed Richard cries out losing the source
'A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse"
A ruthless tyrant with no repentance
For him, there isn't any moral sentence
The Bard's 'wicked uncle' gets the title role
Invites the crowds' interest on the whole
If peace could only be
more than a fleeting wish
a dream that dare exist
through stamina and strength
It's provenance persist
If peace could only be
a fateful crush we'd court
a cherished lifetime gift
that war could never thwart
as spirit shall uplift
If peace could only be
a source of wealth and greed
that humankind did crave
whose riches spilled and shared
did keep souls from the grave
If peace could only be
the jewelled jealous queen
that all who saw desired
that love would praise and preen
and every soul admired
My brother wrote a story
Based on childhood, when we went
To the Catskills for the summer;
Those were joyous times we spent.
In his telling, though, he mentioned
“Night patrol,” which caught me short.
I’d forgotten all about it,
Something memory did thwart.
On the weekends, when the fathers
(Who remained at home for work)
Traveled up to see their families,
What awaited was a perk.
For at night, in the casino,
(Like a clubhouse party space)
There was music, booze and dancing;
Lots of fun was taking place.
All the children, unattended,
Stayed inside the bungalows
While some older teens on “night patrol”
Strode up and down the rows.
Everything was walking distance,
So if something was amiss,
Like a crying baby or a toddler
Needing mommy’s kiss
Night patrol came to the rescue,
Someone fetching dad or mom,
While another night patroller
Stayed and kept the kiddies calm.
Those were different times, for sure;
Doors were unlocked and not a soul
Ever worried ‘bout a problem,
Knowing there was night patrol.
Its ob-scene yet not ob-scure.' Quite clear
The people must exerscise de'jure.' there
Were buisness officers sent armed to the
Teeth..Entailed unto your deadly grief.'
Just before the court action, Dezi was looking for truth and action.' Dingo dan though planned to thwart being beside it TWOT leader he'd have had to decide it would be great if an offence could be pinned on Freeman, the case would never
Be tried..Now goons are expendable.' And
If one perhaps were killed, he could say good riddance 'to that free-man' and old
danny boy could ridel.! That would only leave that car crash.? Yet he was good by
Thunder..The slipperiest snake that ever had slithered around
This land (Down under)
Handicapped by charades,
A cacophony of voices
Comes from the real owners of the world
Who gather, roar, and whisper in a coven.
Wolly bat and tongie dog
Adorned with black wrappers
Teeth smeared with mysterious mixture
As they shape-shift with various forms inside
Even when persuaded,
Their words hold final sway.
Night is their realm,
Flying on bat-like wings
To summon ice and hailstorms.
They wield the power to manifest
In multiple, mysterious ways.
For background checks,
Elédumaré holds the power to thwart.
I hail thee…
Yet, all adoration belongs to God.
©Afolalekan 2025
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