Tiptoe the finest, fine twine, needle-eyed thread
and a glitzy sequined clasp, tiny
tweezer-tie it finger-tip fast with a nuanced knot -
my, my, the pedantic perfection of the master jeweller.
I have the servile subtlety of thick thumbs,
all clumbsy carpals, my fudging finesse
better suited to a beanie'd stevedore, loud lugging
heavy-haired harbour rope to ship-secure
a brutish lump in the line.
Tongue tied up, spun on my own silver yarn
like a crystal jeweller, giddy with champagne giggles,
dizzy on a spinning chandelier high strung from the pressed ceiling.
Oh non, pas moi! Mine is more an oiled elegance,
heavy handed, ham-fisted like a scabby wharf rat,
chased and unchaste.
Dextrous in the strangest ways -
gutsy and glamourous,
ours is a nuanced life of grunting grime
with the briefest flashes of bedazzled dance.
I sit, think, and drink my Chamomile tea
I think yonder as the years blasted
Never will I see the past days gone by
Humans disgraced, unfettered; unchaste
Despite this, entities look and embrace
Chained to the ground with desires
Seeking approval wanting the best
Problems in this life are a test
In the hereafter in the next
I sit, think, and drink my Chamomile tea
Angels and brides do come in white.
All things beautiful, light and bright.
Demons and witches prefer black,
evil ways and means to attack.
White, pure, inspiring, eternal love,
gift of peace, freedom, and turtle dove.
Black signifies ever cold darkness
spreading in the heart unchaste blackness.
Pretty seven colours add up to white.
Black has powers that take away the light.
White and black, colours contrast in nature
bringing out emotions that birth, nurture.
Black, the preferred choice of people in power,
dressing in black suit, shoes, case, car, all over.
Black is so tempting just as all bad things are,
White is regal virgin canvas above par.
Character is ever etched not in black and white,
are dubious shades of grey that are seldom slight.
Colours have character, beware the type of light,
that shines upon them to help us wear what is right.
Love oneself with all the heart,
And let the expectations shatter,
Leaving you with most beautiful
Experiences of life.
I apprehend that someday I unchaste
And all this would not lead to what we desired.
But know that I want to be with you.
Everyday, every night,
By dusk and the morning,
You're but the only one worth loving...
That's the own words of my beloved...
Time left me on my own,
With wounds that refuse to heal,
Flaming my heart to a gust.
By every nightfall
Where my heart plunges in that waterfall,
You are still the only one worth losing.
I apprehend that I am broken forever.
In this sea of twilight, I am a well of iniquity,
Smashed into little fragments of Evenfall.
The void in every one of us,
Is a permanent silence,
That listens to what we all want.
By every downfall
That my heart surrenders to my unrequited love,
I am forever grateful,
Of this appreciation
That everything is over between us,
Since then,
I just live away
In those little fragments of memories...
A wild wisp,
bound by a vile kiss.
A rogue thought,
bound by flesh and an unchaste heart.
The parallax of bliss..
An outcast shut in.
Withering in distraught.
Die blessed, you stand in my cold rot,
Your flow taught.
Beckoned by a teal whisper,
enticing the senses to tame.
Amethyst's fragile wish,
inviting my essence to claim.
Your coy hum softens the core,
irrigates lust, makes me adore.
You dissent yet knead so servile.
Sweet subject, so ready, so fertile.
My Power to poise a psyche,
to hasten growth, or de-generate.
You waste in both pity and modernity;
a Dance of Eternity.
Hold my hand and crawl against the grain.
Surround my ecstasy with your misery and pain.
Hold it tighter and crawl through your shame.
Touch my flare, forget your guilt and blame.
Adhere to me; my servitude of the Bloodmoon.
Rebound your mental plea, succulent flame.
Centuries accrued in its elegant name.
Bask with me, potently; impel and preordain.
Underwear so varied
Unpublished, well, not now
Unconcealed, all can view
Uncovered, unashamed
Unblushing for the world
Unfurled, unblocked designs
Unchaste attitude girls
And boys/men
Online syllable counter
1Underwear so varied 6
2Unpublished, well, not now 6
3Unconcealed, all can view 6
4Uncovered, unashamed 6
5Unblushing for the world 6
6Unfurled, unblocked designs 6
7Unchaste attitude girls 6
Contest: Pleiades U
Date: 04/30/2021
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Black swan effect, crisis precipitates
Leaving the faint of heart, totally wrecked
Save brave hearts, who in stillness meditate
Our fall into the abyss, goes unchecked
All that matters now, is we stand erect
Boldly facing, whatever be our fate
Theory of randomness, not perfect
Black swan effect, crisis precipitates
Knowing time and tide, for no man does wait
Through adversity we gain self-respect
Prayer steeling resolve, till storm abates
Leaving the faint of heart, totally wrecked
Upon earth, as both subject and object
Most succumb to desires; ego borne bait
We are not mind body; fact who’d suspect
Save brave hearts, who in stillness meditate
Deep dark fear, our confidence decimates
Self-imposed delusion, our soul infects
Dwelling in self-pity and thoughts unchaste
Our fall into the abyss, goes unchecked
Oh hermit, ceasing grasping, now connect
To the pulse of love, joyfully gyrate
Let this world of transience have no affect
With fortitude and patience, just out-wait
Black swan effect
18-March-2021
In the garden of time,
there blossoms a flower which is draped like a bride all in white.
Amidst the prismatic shimmer of the field,
this flower is the unchaste Dianna.
Deceiving the rationale of moral beliefs,
it betrays the human that gives it a glance.
It spreads its tender arms and wraps around the neck like a serpent coiled over its prey,
Lovers get lured by its charm as it pools them inside its cup.
And then floral beauty is nowhere to be found,
Perfidy takes control.
Day gets converted into dark,
All pay the toll.
Wrath and Animosity become guests alike,
Remorse drives its chariot drifting the Juno swans aside.
Apologies are less accepted,
And forgetting one another becomes the only way.
The foul play then comes to rest
As they have the beloved to detest.
You are warned not to stare at it
It's the flower, the flower of Infidelity.
STAINED VIRGIN
They say a virgin is an undefiled maiden
An immaculate vestal
How else could she be,now stained ?
unchaste and smutty
tarnished and blemished
that's humanity !!!
STAINED is our religion
its no longer a personal race
but a raceway of competition
sanctuary has become an institution
for jeopardy to our disgrace
STAINED is our so called just government
Blood of humans lies in their hands
which has landed us in disfigurement
cause of selfish pleasure
blood shed all over homelands
yet no justice to measure
STAINED are our relationships
we prefer gain to true love
trust has turned into a treasure so hard to find
loyalty has turned to hard to equip
yet everyone wants to feel loved
when we're all disinclined
STAINED are our lives
everyone is in a rush to make it
never minding the consequences
we're ready to receive never willing to give
steady to commit,never set to admit
that's why we make accomplices
life is light
but what we see through it,is blood
brutal,reprobate,corrupt
has become the blight
profane and soiled has been the flood
she's too stained to be pure again
- Praise Irawaji
*(A lyric on the sweet seductions of a lovely, vampish nymph and man-eater named Lolita.).
With a body so fine and rare
like a lover who comes afresh
with a glow that's both sleek and fair;
and lovely in her fine, smooth flesh;
she sways me so with not a care
as we slowly combine and mesh.
With expert skill that's hard to find
and deft and not so innocent
(and with her hands and unchaste mind),
she unzips my rising discontent.
She pleasures me: I nigh go blind
(as her deftness makes me potent).
With focus and seductive powers
she peers into my fettered soul
and frees me from my iron trousers
which crush my sex and spirit whole.
And in minutes, not even hours,
I'm under her swift, sweet control!
Fathers, Day 2003
"Boundaries"
Written: By Tom Wright
6/16/03
For the elixir of the vine,
Dad could scarcely refrain.
Now just thoughts of his labor,
Like green persimmons, remain.
Twas like some withered old flower,
That doggedly clung to its stem.
Fleecing each morning sun, until at last,
His petals blanched and eye's grew dim.
How oft have I wondered?
As this flower's memory I retrieve.
Questioning extenuating circumstances,
Which I have yet to conceive;
But in all my discernment,
Lay a garden in arrant waste.
Its corners marked by boundaries,
That was unjust and unchaste.
Time has moved hands clockwise,
And those boundaries that were set.
Occasionally grieve my spirit,
O’er that shadow that remains yet.
At my dad's final passing,
I was left wrought up, but sad.
For despite perceived deficiencies,
One fact remained; he was my Dad.
State of the Nation
Nature unchaste,
river waste drifts;
distasteful scene.
Shorebirds in flight,
gray and white gulls;
despite foul winds.
Mercury fear;
poison-smeared fish
make dreary food.
*January 29, 2019
For Charles Messina’s Than-Bauk Contest
Tearing my soul asunder, a silent scream
A piteous one as in some dreadful dream,
In a deep sleep but still very much aware,
Was it but another recurring nightmare?
And how so sad, painful and most unfair
No one in this world really seems to care.
With my battered spirit and heart on fire
like a wayfarer in a state dismally dire,
My lust kindled with an unchaste desire
like smitten moths for the flame aspire;
Only upon my deathbed it must expire
where no one would bother to inquire.
~12/24/18
~For a Brian Strand contest
It was a lucrative dream,
Sin was it's theme,
She presented herself,
Standing beside a bed,
Wearing thin air around her:
She was not unchaste,
She was in matrimony to a diaspora dude,
She was well oiled,
Her whole outlook was inviting:
It was going to be the greatest sin
Of my lifetime:
Just when I was ready
Convinced of fake safety and protection,
The dream ends,
I am lying here waiting for the dream
To visit me again;
I had prayed for something like it
Before I went to sleep:
Just who was that woman?
I keep wondering.
He comes like darkness, scaring of lights
His masked mono eye, delivering bad luck
As he turns to search, he nourishes souls with
Insincerity laziness robbery, jealousy profanity
When he meets ministers, from their cabinet offices
Right on the date of sevens, his tackle he evens
Their feet he entroubles, their heads he encounters
Hypocrisy pretense blasphemy, envy unchaste injustice
When he destroys the bodies, the souls as he teases
His might stout in less, ashamed to hand the corpse
That swells without value, and bursts to turn soil
Unhelpful embarrassed panic, broke endless endeavors
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