The combination lock I had
In high school, for the gym,
Would open with a special code;
Though memory’s grown dim…
I still remember: 2 – 8 – 2
Turn right, then left, then right,
Those numbers etched into my brain,
Which I can still recite.
Those were the only numbers that
I had to memorize
To access something locked away
(My sneakers, I’d surmise).
Yet nowadays, we have to learn
Numeric codes, as well
As passwords to protect us
From where hackers hide and dwell.
And each one should be different,
With 8 characters or more,
Some upper case, plus numbers
Or some symbols, por favor.
It also is expected that
Your brain will, on command,
Be able to cough up those codes
When apps make that demand.
Those years in school so long ago
Did not provide a clue
That some day my stuff would not be safe
With simply 2 – 8 – 2.
In the obscurity of the dark opaque night
across the frozen silence of formidable forest
you need to take the ordained journey forsaken
for you have promises waiting to be kept,
but the winding track of illusive time you lose
in the entangled gloomy labyrinth of torment.
You hear the WHISPERING wind pass you by,
telling you this journey has no perceptible end.
You're lost in the emptiness fold away from HOME
find the crumbling HEART in the grip of agony.
Collecting COURAGE from the debris of hope
you pray for the HEALING touch.
At the fringe of the fleeting forlorn moment,
glowing in the flash of the inner instant light,
you see the new sun rise in splendor
on the hued horizon of INSPIRATION.
Its golden rays illumine the dark abyss of mind,
REFLECTING the patina of the PASSIONATE soul.
Your PRAYERS light up the supreme essence,
where you discover the precious gift of God
in my unconditional embrace of agave LOVE,
absorbing the corroding flow of your misery.
You find the flood of divine light in the forest,
showing the way to the sunlit sanctum of life.
(Selected words are in upper case)
April 27, 2021
Contest : Agape
Sponsor : Regina McIntosh
A rundown duplex in an old inner city place
The walls smeared with dog in an outright disgrace
It smelt of no hope and no future for her anyone more
The neighbours complained of loud music and bad language behind her door
We were called one evening and she answered to us
Bleary eyes and drunk she wondered at the fuss
The scars on her face a sad story told
Of a car crash that maimed her in drink and speed story so old
Photos showed there was a time when she was a good looker
Gone now forever living life as a low class hooker
When she spoke it was slurry and blubbery
Wanting something she couldn’t have in a horror story
We turned the music down and said it had to stop
In a useless charade they was all that we got
So we left to go back to the world
She remained there a lost soul with little left to be held
And alone she lived on in this downtrodden place
In filth as a struggle with no time or grace
I wrote on the log in upper case
Music turned down AQOL NFPA in the appropriate place
Once and a while we had to go back again
For a similar job and a result that would never an end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
101 is a police code for a disturbance.
Poetry,they will dissect you
ignoring poet's bleeding heart,
a judgement today for you too,
poetry, they will dissect you!
So many knives to cut you through
a bleeding heart will fall apart.
Poetry they will dissect you
ignoring poet's bleeding heart!
===============000================
Contest-TRIOLET
Form-TRIOLET : A French verse form. Its rhyme scheme is ABaAabAB and all lines are in iambic tetrameter; the first, fourth and seventh lines are identical, as are the second and final lines, thereby making the initial and final couplets identical as well. The features of the Triolet are: 8 lines. Two rhymes. 5 of the 8 lines are repeated or refrain lines. First line repeats at the 4th and 7th lines. Second line repeats at the 8th line. Rhyme scheme (where an upper-case letter indicates the appearance of an identical line, while a lower-case letter indicates a rhyme with each line designated by the same lower-case or upper-case letter)
==================000==================
In between my decorative cover
I laid a lot of colourful words
In red, blue, green and white
In black, sorrow and pain
All the doubts in yellow
I wrote in pink
The nightmares
I went through
In upper case I kept
The fragrance of lofty thought
You taught me
In tight secrecy, the memories
In maroon, in turquoise
The joy I got
Side by side
Along with the moon
Still words are merely words
You can not see
The wounds of the wind
Oozing of the heart
Red blood of the dream
Still unmakes the image
Of the blank space
Left by you
With Big Dash I am only
Able to paint
The sound of
Of emptiness
As she sits 'pon a Persian rug
Her pet lovingly by her side
This situation she can't shrug
As she sits 'pon a Persian rug
Frilly blue dress could've made her smug
But virtue shows in her blue eyes wide
As she sits 'pon a Persian rug
Her pet lovingly by her side
http://www.art.com/products/p13207418-sa-i2322685/briton-riviere-sympathy.htm
Written this fourth of July 2013
Triolet Form One Stanza
ABaAabAB/upper case letters repeat lines/ lower case rhyme only
THE SILENCE OF A SANCTIFIED SONG
I was seeking and sank into a sanctuary
It wasn’t lonely although I was all alone
From there I went to a mortuary
And wished I was but rotting bone
No flesh to sweat nor tears to shed
Just my corpse in a coffin of brass
I still can’t say why I yearned to be dead
Perhaps I was weary of walking on broken glass
Within that mortuary everything was quiet and still
No shouts from the pious which religion quells
Suddenly I realized I was tired of always walking uphill
And wished to forever silence that old church’s bells
Right next to the mortuary stood that church of oak
With a congregation of fools and mortals be
In rapt attention the foolish listened as the pastor spoke
And in the very last row sat only irreverent me
I would not open a hymnal for my voice to sing
And to this day I still remain ever and always contrary
I smash rules and commandments to which the religious cling
Thus I left that church for the silence of the sanctuary in that mortuary
© 2011.…Poefree
Upper case bold g
Compass circumscribing me
Squared eternally
An indelible tattoo of Mary
Faintly graces my upper left arm.
I loved her but we never married,
Our love lost its meaningful charm.
So long! To the faded memories
Those years of yore all but disappeared;
Bygone are the glints of yesterdays
As I gaze at the scar once revered:
Abated colors now take the place
Where once her name etched brilliantly:
M-A-R-Y inked in upper case
Is now lost unrecognizably.
As long as this mark’s a part of me
Mary remains in my reveries.