Is a chance either against fate or destiny,
It often looks like a planned movie that might end in everyone's favor,
The words are beginning to be buried in our heads,
The pledges ain't really made, they are just structures build on maybe,
What if the dreams had, falls on an unfertile soil,
What if all the efforts turns to waste,
What if all the pains endured becomes vain,
What if all the hard works ends up killing,
What if, she left at the edge of misery,
What if she becomes too classic to stay,
What if all her words are just cheap stones,
What if her love fades away,
What if the light refuses to regenerate,
What if the desires are unfulfilled,
What if the man in the future never becomes a reality,
What if the gold never comes,
What if, what if, what if,
The fears are not dying but growing,
The once red flaming faith dies gradually,
The ego of love turns an ego of anxiety and worries,
Oh, the soul seeks solace,
The silent heart, the trust it feels might soon be gone,
The strings in which hope hangs might soon be a nightmare,
Oh, what if all these happens.
Categories:
unfertile, africa, confusion, crush, fate,
Form: Free verse
promises blooming like flowers in unfertile soil ~are seeds that can't take root
Categories:
unfertile, analogy,
Form: Monoku
Sittin’ in th’ saddle. Gotta soon skedaddle.
School marm says she’ll tattle. Sheriff wants a battle.
Kissed her on the cheek jes’ to git a li’l peek
at her widow’s peak ‘cause she’s purty an’ petite.
Gotta hankerin’ to git off ol’ Buck and sit
a spell afore I quit and have a chaw to spit.
Cogitatin’ and bidin’ time afore ridin’
down that canyon hidin’ lest I git a chidin’.
Starin’ out blinkin’, doin’ some proper thinkin’
‘bout the stars a twinklin’ and my heavy drinkin’.
My casual, carousin’ rife, hidin’ from the strife
of settlin’ down my life an’ takin’ on a wife.
Soon I’ll fergit the threat, fergit my social debt
I don’t wanna sweat dirt jes’ to pay a moral bet
farmin’ unfertile land, or workin’ for the man.
Druther take a stand and work as lonely cowhand.
Might as well admit it, I’m a social misfit.
Don’t wanna submit it, or give up an’ quit it.
Searchin’ but cain’t seem to find comfort in my mind.
Guess it’s ’bout time I recognize I’m doin’ jes’ fine.
Categories:
unfertile, conflict, horse, how i
Form: Cowboy Poetry
Global warning
The boy was climbing up a tree, his mother, from the kitchen window,
shouted, if you fall down and break a leg don´t come running to me.
They are opening up a super coal mine in Britain despite they know about
global warming.
It is only this mine the government says, we have to give people work,
we know this is not true it is done for profit; it is about a few dollars more,
The workers to turn a blind eye food on the table and beer in the pub.
The Ice on the Antarctic melts showing dark in unfertile mountains.
The sea lever rises green tropical island drowns and the people
have nowhere to go becoming refugees.
Relentless the sea level rises filling mines with water drowning the unlucky
near the coast, the elite move higher sure of their survival.
Finally, they reach the top of the mountain there is nowhere else to go.
They pray to God who says you have been warned don´t come running to me.
Categories:
unfertile, anxiety, beach, color, emotions,
Form: Free verse
magnifica
noblis
so insigne&variegated
a mosaic
simplified
pleasing&lovely
compacta with everlasting
sweetness
of heart shaped love
glowing flugens red umbels
of agape
before
withering away
in a forgotten
wreath
in a sky
out of reach
barren&unfertile
yet
unfading
a tricoleur
to brighten the eyes
ornamental foliage
drifts
upon the breeze
a briza of beauty
a catalyst
for pleasure
so pungent
so delicious
so exquisite
flowering in the mind
a collage
insights of electricity
lively
novel
imaginations
in radical rhythms
embracing
the minimalist
to illuminate
to highlight
the golden threads
of the whole
cosmos
in a celebration
of darkness&light
glistening
with sensitivity
bringing
clarity
a sense of purpose
nimbly
dancing
through
the intricacies
of creativity
Categories:
unfertile, imagery,
Form: Imagism
Why the deep, dark valleys in my life,
Why the high peaks of heavenly rife,
Why the unfertile and fruitless leas,
Answer me, O Silence, answer me?
Must I live and die in netherworld,
Frozen in a paralyzed curl,
In search of light beyond dark of night,
Believing life is incessant strife?
The highs that lift me upward to God,
The lows that bury me in foul sod,
Days cast out upon bellowing seas,
Answer me, O Silence, answer me?
In the darkness I seek out and try,
To understand and mull over why,
There seems to be no curative balm,
To heal a soul that’s, empty of calm.
Are you so aloof that you don’t care,
Do you think my illness is too rare,
Are you fully clad in apathy,
Answer me, O Silence, answer me?
How long must I voice this fervent plea,
To be set free from this malady,
I grow tried playing this hide and seek,
O Silence, wake up and answer me?
Categories:
unfertile, conflict, depression, feelings, health,
Form: Rhyme
This tugging and pulling
must cease
I can’t meet the needs
of all beasts
nor chase after dreams
amid all of these screams
so please let me be
as I’m tethered
and bound
to this unfertile ground
and cannot escape
that black shaded sound
a shriveling, goose bump decree
of intent to take all that is me
to lay it all waste
just for a taste
of the bullions of gold
in their husks deeply rolled
so I battle
and bid them withdraw
right up to the end
my last straw
©8/19/2018
for Viv Wigley – Pick a Theme Poetry Contest
Categories:
unfertile, humor, life, metaphor,
Form: Free verse
Depression weighs heavy upon the posture of hope
Scarring demeanor carving arthritic oak
Agonised limbs decorate skies without bird
Emptiness the whisper that sings without word
Unfertile the thoughts sewn Neath a barren minds clay
Home grown the emptiness to harvest each day
No seasons differentiate the spring, summer, fall
Only winters bleak flourish within self-pity's wall
Depression weighs heavy upon the posture of hope
Outstretched the plead, arthritic the choke
Categories:
unfertile, depression,
Form: Rhyme
I sit at christmas and want to feel as others
To have the chance if only
Seeing children with their loved ones
It makes my stomach turn as I cannot relate
I want to feel pregnancy
I want to cherish a child of my own
Feeling all this and feeling all alone
I look to my partner he knows how I feel
Been back and forth for IVF and crushed my dream
Seeing children opening presents on TV
Eyes so wide and smiles on their faces
I feel as a man as I am not a woman
Women can have children - not me
I reach for hope into the year ahead
Every night I pray on arrival to my unfertile bed
Young mothers non deserving most in it for a home
Others take drugs and have no cherishing thoughts
Children need love and time to grow
Something of which I feel I will never know
Categories:
unfertile, sad, children, children, drug,
Form: Free verse
The Arsenic Sunset
Eden now knows what it meant
When corruption took flesh as a
Serpent—
For all things alien
Narrow to a tendril
A twist of black sap
A rune of bloody syrup against tissue-paper tides
Winking crudely among the starved sluggish currents
Of emerald and sapphire
Like a clay-red foaming artery.
A root seeking an oasis not yet tainted
Among jeweled whitecaps and glassy heat.
Eden now knows what it meant
When the urge to ruin something
Stole form as an apple
That could be devoured into
A constellation of seeds withered on your palm;
For the ruin of anything has a stiff-grained pleasure to it—
Not much separates a grimace and a smile.
The brackish wave
And black-slick shore
Ache—
With want, with memory
For the reign of a firmament not yet singed with sulfur breath
And a sky yet unbound by the rainbow venoms
That richen the arsenic sunset.
The thrum of myriad hearts
Sounds the confusion
And the agonal forward trudge
Of a world unfertile
Bathed in alien minerals, and haunted by
The loss of its oceans’ poetry.
Categories:
unfertile, natural disasters, nature,
Form: Free verse
I was created in your image. Manifested in pleasure and delivered in unfertile
ground. Plummeted to a world of half truths, constitutional tyranny and fear. In my
grasp I reached for your mighty roots that once held the soil so firm, but never
more. I topple; falling lost among the darkened shrubs and dung beetles. My
brown bark stripped away, by relentless sands, revealing white flesh of
conquered past. Wicked erosion institutionalizes my fruitless journey leaving
me with only deliberate despair. I branch out, but political correctness bounds
me from talking to you in a way that you may understand, so I utter complete
gibberish, sounding as of a child stumbling over its' first words. Pity me not; for I
will nurture many fatherless seeds with my enlightened compost.
Categories:
unfertile, introspection,
Form: I do not know?