Oh Teachers!
The burning candles,
The moulders of young minds.
The pathfinder to the searching sheep.
Teachers are like burning candles,
breezing in all day out.
Designing the world future.
Walking through the wind,
the nestling of the leaves.
They are the idols of the earth.
The upheaving shadows,
and dark appearance.
Searching for the nooks and crannies,
increasing my knowledge,
after pain is sweet gain.
Having a bright path,
because of my burning candle.
Categories:
upheaving, allah, best friend, class,
Form: Free verse
Peter dove in, waves all upheaving, raging
Sure as blind eyes always are, never doubting
Saving Sandra, fallen in, shouting, blurping,
Sandra saved Peter!
(fiction)
2/28/2019
Categories:
upheaving, analogy, appreciation, depression, girl,
Form: Sapphic stanza
Feminism,
Neo-Marxism,
Catastrophic cultural schism,
Rallying against the "patriarchy",
Waging social war by tweeting,
Against superficial enemies of the ideology,
Submission through guilt and gender supremacy power,
Cracking down the whip to make challenger's cower,
Upheaving the meritocratic system to rule in ivory towers,
A pathogenic social construct toppling modern liberty in Western society,
Collecting mugs of discontent using male tears to shower,
Ruining husband's lives then demanding child support dower,
Ostracizing traditional gender roles and wedding vowers,
Endless rhetoric regurgitated fueling the dichotomy,
Opposers pay sanctioned blood apology,
New recruits sacrifice liberty,
Hell-bound progressivism,
Neo-socialism,
Feminism.
Categories:
upheaving, anti bullying, corruption, society,
Form: Rhyme
So ashamed little Runaway,
Forced into a reluctant escape,
So wistful to remain,
In the solitude of yesterday,
Flesh and bone bonds will breakaway,
But looking back your home still fades away,
Left at the starting line so far away,
A trail of memories will pave the way,
To a gilded dawn of sunless days,
No the brightest future for our little Runaway,
But their majesties have the final say,
Crowned by dishonesty they begin their reign,
Upheaving the ground to force a change,
Residing in mirrored halls to remember the days,
Before paper bills held any sway,
Over our Hallmark lives of paper-meche,
A fragile peace of week long Saturdays,
Our assortment of vanity and frivolity made for a fragrant bouquet,
But IOUs' and eviction notices make for a putrid display,
Dubbing the first of the month as "Mayday",
Halting our fast-forwarded lives on the freeway,
And brought us back to Earth without replay,
Now we gather around the table and pray,
Please God bring us back, yesterday.
Categories:
upheaving, angst, family, father son,
Form: Rhyme