Onigiri is another level,
I don't know a place called Seattle,
I took a ladle,
Put it on a table,
I don't know where I'm going at,
I took a sat,
I see myself as a lad,
I don't want to be sad,
I took a notepad,
From the wad,
I stare at the ceiling,
As if I'm on a sailing,
I am not wailing,
But I am piling,
All the reasons I left behind,
For now, I am not resigning,
From what I am trying to define,
The meaning of refine,
I remind myself the since,
I don't take a Hinch,
Even a sinch,
Over something that is so clingy,
To hold onto a blingy,
My burger is zingy,
With a taste I hold onto,
With a pinch of cilantro,
It is my intro,
I keep on going,
For what I am doing,
I love myself in this song,
Is this what I am looking for?
Until my hands are sore,
To the day, I want to do the chores,
Look, it is my other course,
I try to find the source,
Here is my sauce.
In the realm where dreams collide, is she
the smirk star that appears, glides, then walks?
I grasped you; the otherworldly was in
the vicinity, gazing in awe at the scene of beauty.
As far as I notice where I sit on this earth, I like
your lambent soul, guiding me toward the
glow that beams and leads me into a lucid night.
Oh, buoyant star, you shine and dazzle of
dedication that is bright and cloudless
It hurts my eyes and takes away my inner climes.
To myself, I said, "You are truly a dulcet icon. And
upthrust above the wilderness, looking starry
At night, you shine brighter than the skies
my consolations utterly ignite your soul. And
the world where dreams resist colliding, all
bind and confine, to divulge facts, that's,
even the stars tremble in your presence, best
when twilight falls, for hope to return, of
tactility to grab your light in the dark.
I'm holding on to my emptiness, sorrow, and
I am in awe of the beauty of this star so bright.
Inspired by: Lord Byron – She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Forced to bite the dust,
to us seems unjust
but think,
if we readjust
and flow of life trust,
we link
with God’s grace robust
feeling an upthrust:
bliss wink!
Desire is our chink,
so let’s doublethink
belief
before our next blink,
discarding that mink;
new leaf
we turn, love’s hue pink,
die’s cast, swim or sink,
oh chief!
Ego is joy’s thief,
so to get relief,
shed lust.
Marooned at fear’s reef,
that’s now our motif,
soul’s bust.
Oh worthy Khalif,
let us now be brief:
be just.
24-March-2023
Virelai
field full of stubble
amongst upthrust golden spikes
flock of geese feeding
Useful on rainy days
Underneath ashen skies
Unleashed springs awaken;
Upthrust in defiance.
Unobserved by others
Undercover kisses
Utilise their shelter.
31.04.21
' Pleiades U' Contest sponsored by Kim Merryman
syllable check by ear
MOONLIGHT SERENADE
Somethin’s buried in the cornfield
The Moon’s blood red
And this black hooded fiddler’s
A playin’ taps fer the dead
They be makin’ the rounds,
Farmer John’s cute little sprouts
Dressed in their bright Halloween suits
Intent on gettin’ lots a Handouts
Oh, somethin’s buried in the cornfield
Moon casts a rusty glow
The fiddler’s changed his tune now.
A macabre waltz, eerie ‘n slow
John’s chillun all’r enchanted
Fiddler’s music so sickly sweet
So strange this tune, they fail to see
The upthrust at Suzy’s feet
Somethin’s got Suzy by the ankle
Somethin’ muddy, bloody with gore
And Suzy’s screamin’ absolute murder
Wait! There’s a mystery in store
Somethin’s got loose in the cornfield
The fiddler’s a fiddlin’hell bent
It’s chasin’ John’s screechin’young uns
Ith a chainsaw divil sent
Sich a terrible, terrible story
Ta be a tellin’ Halloween Eve,
But rest ya easy my chillun,
I’m a gonna turn off the T.V.
Flannels warms the soft skin behind,
the silk topper brushes chin ward.
The air hangs heavy with the scent of lavender
and all is as it should be by moonlight.
Honeyed beams strike silver tendrils
tossed upon a pillow case.
Bhram's laces the sultry air.
Dark chocolate covers my tongue and lips
Chianti flows between breathes
and the night rises with upthrust hips
to crescendo in the the dark.
I was climbing up a ladder on a day
with a cool breeze purring through the roof gutters.
The wind would dip and run inside the open metal
canister then shoot up with the unforgiving wall
at roof’s end…
That upthrust would meet my rising hair
with a foosh reminding me of ungifted rewards,
like spinning windmills our air is happy and free
while I climb the satoric rungs for a vision clearer
than the ground below…
Space between the thoughts is what we are trained to see
And as those continents tread away from each other
The mass of men’s woes storm along breathless air
Like a cannonball bringing to smoke and cinder
All my grasping mills, shuddering in the wind—let go!
I put the ladder away and walk back into the garage.
I listen attentively to my breathing as I open the
screen door that leads to my kitchen that leads
to my living room carpet where I will lay down
and count all my blessings…
…until I fall asleep.
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