Soft marches
spawn bravado
and cavalier soldier
He who scoffs
at distant gunfire
to meet its fury
Untested untried
untempered
his blade of little worth
As conflict preys
on the folly
— of the paper lion
(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)
O brilliant son of the desert,
You rose through the maze of your House
With precision sharper than a blade.
The future trembles beneath your feet—
But power, untempered by wisdom,
Is a fire that devours its bearer.
Do not chase the glory of empires too fast.
Rome was not built in one day—
And neither shall a just Arabia.
You cannot serve two masters:
The West with its silver tongue,
And your people, whose eyes still hunger.
Choose neutrality not as weakness,
But as strategy.
Your true legacy lies not in gold towers,
But in lifting the soul of your nation.
Forsake not your brother, Iran.
To unite the Crescent is to raise a new dawn.
The blood of Gaza weeps through the sand,
And every drop asks:
"Where is our brother?"
Sunni, Shia, Sufi—one people,
Divided by politics, not by God.
To unite them is to write your name beside kings,
To divide them is to sow your own ruin.
Beware the advisors with smiles from Tel Aviv
And tongues sharpened in Washington.
They do not dream for you—
They only use your night to hide their shadow.
The Middle East can rise again,
But only if you learn this truth:
Real power is not feared,
It is trusted.
It's happened again, dammit
And try as I might
Spring cleaning's an urge
I just cannot fight
I need a remedy NOW
For this kind of addiction
As I'm down on my knees
Scrubbing the kitchen
It's a terrible affliction
An absolute blight
I started at dawn
Now it's late in the night
The days been a blur
A whirlwind of cleaning
A hysterical enthusiasm
Untempered by reasoning
But when it's all done and dusted
And (temporarily) neat as a pin
I'll be pleased I gave into the urge
And sit down with a gin
Cold is the heart unkind
Untempered by the sun
Hollow and mercy blind
Celebrated by none
Bright is the heart afire
Splendor that blinds the sun
Hallowed and sweet desire
Cherished by everyone
I was ten
And SHE was eleven
And the other was already gone long ago
But now we get happiness
Bad habits follow
Bad actions
Bad moods
Unprepared parents make
Untempered tantrums
The medicine is killing me
Why can’t I take control
Anger and Pain
Pain and Anger
A room filled with trash
But it's MY TRASH
MINE
Sometimes in healing
We cast our pain
On the people we love
Moms got medicine
She cries for yelling
I don't care
I don't care
Time to see the therapist
I HATE THIS
I hate this
It doesn’t even work
Why did you steal?
I don’t know
I don't even remember picking that up
School is tiring
I know what I a supposed to do
But nobody sees me anyway
That girl sees me.
I don't like it
She sees me and is rude
All the other kids get yelled at for moving
I left in the middle of class
Nobody noticed when I got back
Why do homework
It doesn't matter
Nobody looks at these grades
Why keep comics
If you can't read them
I don't understand why the packaging is important
I see that you are angry
I don't see how moving a book
From one corner to another
Is Stealing
But ok
Daydream: fragile as untempered glass.
Coming to life on clouds' rainy sky.
Building hopes it will at last surpass
other dreams we had and watched go by.
Wind's rustling leaves can nudge a dream,
though often found in bird's lovely song,
dandelion seeds wafting by streams,
sunset's reds massed in brilliant throng.
When you capture a daydream to own,
it will need some substance to sustain;
strength of desire, with future unknown,
don't let strength falter, people disdain.
Hold tight a daydream, or it may fade.
Once released, it may not reappear.
If, for moments, it lingers in shade,
It may become mist and disappear.
November 22, 2022
for Don't Quit Your Daydreams poetry contest
by Craig Cornish
6th Place
How love takes ownership with
a single kiss,
a sigh, a movement into a world of sensuous bliss,
Your softness of skin speaks a language anew,
the warmth of your body wraps me as you pull me close to you,
and lips explore the contours with eyes closed,
like the mind is lost to lust and is with love overdosed,
Every moment is a slice of heaven as we explore,
deeper and deeper into our own depthless vision of love,
The flow of passion sweeps across like untempered forest fire,
In that dim lit corridor our bodies provide the only glow,
One may stop a seething ocean wave but none can stop this passion flow,
it is you and me our desires as the ocean winds roar,
Fluttering silky white curtains at our bodies to explore,
the absolute marvel of creation that is unhindered love,
a force of nature that cannot be subdued,
Shut the world out, its petty distractions no longer endured,
Let’s stay here and for ever make love!
Wrote for Lu lou’s poetry competition. But
Was late by a few hours, so missed it!
The educational forest has thickened
I can't see the forest from the trees,
are they Republican or Democrat?
voices once spoke out without a doubt
a lost message loud and clear for change,
those voices have since been silenced
by the onslaught of time and age, untempered truths.
Who speaks now?
Is it only the loudest voices
shouting bullies and the braggarts
who wave and aggrandized their failures as achievements,
the gray men staunch in their self-centered ways
unwinding progress and holding time hostage
to the dreams and successes of yesterday,
the future of possibilities.
These are the times that try men's souls
looking back and tossing out the compromise
of a warring world seeking peace and conjoined hands
where power-hungry individuals take charge not to lead
but to satisfy, enrich and praise themselves above all others;
one giant step for the political bureaucracy
no small steps for the average man.
America is better than this.
The lack of fame
my spirit free
A bird uncaged
amongst the trees
Its weight not lifted
and never there
My breath in sequence
above the air
The lack of fame
art’s greatest gift
My oath to no one
allegiance kept
As thoughts go hither
and feelings yon
My soul untempered
—my words to song
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2018)
Who have remained steadfast
Who wield strength when beaten senseless
Who dare to taste the ugly and unrevered
Who allow emotional currents to breeze by
Who carve the hairline fracture of knowledge into deep jagged untempered faults of creation
Who pause for the soothing rumble of a child's voice
Who take a stand when legs are broken and irrevocably unbalanced
Who play to win yet never keep score
Who think win-win is obvious and redundant
Who value shelter and engagement of all sizes and shapes
Who see the crystal godly images obscured by billowy smoke and heinous toxicity
Who sing and relish the quiet participation in the shadows of the common man
Who reach down when no one else will
Who pursue and dream even when time and humanity has rendered it futile
Who know the reason why we are called mankind
Who feel that all hearts should beat together as one
I salute you.
(3/5/12)
Oh seed of Dante, dost thy path
in mid-life's turning gone astray
upon a sylvan darkness hath
to tread a rut with feet of clay?
Wast thou that youth of virtue pure
who bargained not with Judgment Day
untempered green convictions sure
before life's tests induced decay?
Didst compromise and circumstance
thy dreams of glory put away
to promise them a second chance
if thou but wouldst concede delay?
Rejoice upon thy wisdom learned!
With youth's illusions purged away
there's still a kingdom to be earned.
Persist, persist, and find the way!
June 28, 2014
The warming flames of a fireplace
Easing away the frost and the cold
The warmth massaging my face
As the sparks crack in the fires mold
The flame stretches one inch too far
Touching lightly the untempered wall
It catches and burns all things inside
Turning the walls as black as the night
A sad desolation, caused by one little spark
Chaos and destruction, by the once warm hearth
Things can change without you knowing why
Something you once loved, bringing tears from your eyes
It’s days like this that my mind returns to Raleigh
The pitch, sandy futon, and our intertwined deviant legs
Pushing for a fix
I for one goal, you for another
I would be more aware by the end of the night
of the smoothness of your forehead, and your full Latin lips
While you would know my hips
and fistfuls of my golden hair
We would each know the fire on our tongues
and the familiar feeling of a heavy mind, tossing and turning
chest to chest
I loved you, but was surprised to find your hands rough
and your lips untempered
Like a child, you indulged in me
without the mind for what I am, or the culture to know better
Though still, you press and carry me
under the door frame, to the floor
and as we rest, night continues to sink, like theatre canvas
And We are disposed to move
With your golden skin, you lie
As your fingers trace circles in my skin
I thought that you loved me too...
But when my mind returns to Raleigh
My thoughts return to you
and your cold bed, our swimming heads
and how at dawn, you dropped me off
My bitten skin looking redder in the tail lights
In time, a faded letter turned to ash,
dampened teak now acrid and abused,
a timeless quarrel's scene, an ancient clash,
one paroxysm fierce, two mastheads fused.
Subsumed in fortune's cast of reel and ruse,
blended masses nursing wounds and fears
ne'er comprehending how it ended here.
What forced each flag to wield its harshest hand,
yet cause to happenstance may seldom look,
wild thoughts untempered, soldiers of the grand,
nostalgia or clean might for pride mistook.
Fair warning to the hungry, e'en wisest book
makes not the calm of vernal noon's delight
worth more than ashen spoils from the fight.
Beneath the weight of that
Decisive
Moment,
your mind rifles for a memory of me.
... a waltzing illusion
of whispered lashes upon
tear-stained cheeks.
Slippery images of half grins
and muddied promises
left outside the door to find their own way.
I’ve met untempered currents
that dragged you beneath
monochromatic layers
of near death.
I’ve raged against the forces
that checked your wings,
the pale blue of your gaze
adrift on low tide
that missed the shadow of me
loving you.
I hear your voice still, in words
left for me.
Alone.
And I hear time abysmal.
And time rules our worlds.
So I wait.
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