Picture a dusty village road
Where two stubborn goats
One older full of pride
Another younger and very agile
Face each other on a narrow bridge
Neither want to back down
They lock horns in front of the whole village
Each claiming the right of way
On the edges, villager elders watched on
Placing bets on who fights better
Turning merchants for their goods
Whilst the drums of propaganda beats on.
But the bridge
thin and weary from the weight
begins to crack beneath their show down
and when it breaks won’t the whole village bleed from the fall?
Little Mortimer Dragon was selfless, heroic and brave.
He saved me! He is a hero! The villager would rave.
He depleted his energy, lost a large bit of his power.
Came home to nap, eat a bite, revitalize in a shower.
You have to stop giving all of your energy away said is Dad.
If you don’t save some for yourself, you will get sick, really bad.
Little Mortimer Dragon had to learn to take care of himself first.
If he had not learned this lesson, his illness might have gotten worst.
Shakti is a Goddess of Shaktism
Spirit of Hinduism
Also called Anaadi, meaning no beginning or end
Or Nitya, meaning forever
Shakti takes a backseat to no other deity
She is the Supreme Brahman
Representing primordial cosmic energy
Creative
Sustaining
Protector of the villager
Shakti is the woman creator of the universe
Shiva, male aspect of same divine being is secondary
She is omnipotent
We heard about green Christmas Dragon years before he was seen.
He’ll breathe fire, nails and tar. He is vicious, terrible, incredibly mean!
We villager added a bit of worse to his horrific tales every year.
Children who were open saw him – knowing there was nothing to fear.
Christmas was a sweet natured dragon, playful, and appreciated our feast.
An angel, a playmate, a friend, not a gargoyle, monster, devil or beast.
If we grownups had acted nicer, we could have seen him for years too.
But adding horror to a stupid rumor is what idiotic villagers often do.
Once I remember, I was pupil a decade behind
Nada flowing in my gist,but parent rememberance
Who toured, Pearls me a day and infinity
To be onto twinkle today's milieu
Oh a nibble was a villager of its effects!
Abhorring schooling with silence reactions
While genders groaning for being with
And therefore,crowns shelves eyed at a stage
As the dreams of their series term
I became limbo for the school-edges, frozen claims as the student
Wandering my precious days on deplorable doors
That couldn't goddess my further steps
The crowns-burden retired, which led them down.
Still nothing to en masse , instead of calm
Edged,my sphere swirling darkness the serenity
Because of my battering crown's words
Blacken moonlight mournfully to drag me out of it's aura
Hopeless,the crowns bedded off from the globe.
Letting me rages between ridges
Further mirth,astrocious astray beside the scenic colours
Where the screams is?
"Nostalgic groans would never refill
The hungry staving thy intestine
Dance down and shelves:for rosy you ascertained paths"
Alas!firmed should be I and flicker on your stamped!
For the next of my ghost-days.
I’m lost, the snow’s so deep, red scarf left as a mark, but gone,
I need to nap, a busy night, Santa and Rudolph will miss me
Sleep, I must sleep, so tie my shoe around a tree with thorn,
Must prepare for dread, for what lies ahead, a villager passing heard
My sleepy voice, and from beneath a steep pile of snow peeped out
A blue sleeved arm and shoe-less foot, so he awakened me,
I would freeze in this bitter breeze, a hot glass of milk is
What you need, the stranger said, so tearfully I did explain,
I feared a wolf with fang, poor tired Santa forgot to head count,
Please help, all I know is address North Pole, so elf and stranger
Walked hand in hand, leaving footprints in the snow like sand,
Was this stranger assigned, of course we know he was, with speedy swirl,
Found themselves in Santa’s house, beside his spouse, address North Pole.
A miracle Santa declared and looked around, but no-one was there!
Competition Entry: Footprints
Dated: 02/05/2021
Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
The Govemouse
Govemouse is a seal shaped animal, friendly
and they were plentiful often used as Sunday steak
and a must at Christmas when their meat was
used to make sausages and meatballs.
A villager, who had spent many years in France
brought sheep, and a few donkeys to help
carrying the harvest of carrots and cabbage down
from villagers fields.
Wool and meat make a sheep.
The Govemouse, no longer needed migrating down
to the coast, the few that stayed became pets
for the children and cared for by elderly women.
A road up to the village was built and many tourists
thinking it was romantic, but the strange man who
had lived among them took his knapsack and left
for the coast, where he noticed a ship in the bay that
had been abandoned by its owner and the crew had
not been paid for the last year.
They had nothing to eat and since they were paperless
could not go ashore.
What saved them from starvation was the Govemouse
that was happy to be useful again.
From a farmer cottage, he was a naive villager
Being orphan he got admission in madrasah
Completed memorizing the holy Quran
Till tenth-grade general learning he ran
In several madrasahs and mosques, he worked
At the age of fifty, he quitted all kinds of jobs ark
No, he was not frustrated, chose grocery business
Still, he is activated in him at seventy, one less
Greed for the earthly affairs defeats not him
He is full of life learning and self-esteemed
Lot sufferings come and go; he in strong patience
To his family, he's spending whole life conscience
As a burden child still I couldn't do anything for him
Feel proud to salute as my father and prayer hymn
20.06.2020 Chattogram
Happy Father's Day- 2020 To All
My envious sister
My envious sister
A clear gap between my sister and I
Two years ago my sister beat a lot of competitors
Entering SNU was a challenge
like American students entering Harvard univeristy
The sky will impress you with your sincerity
For some reason my sister is resentful.
As a stupid little villager and a smart and excellent SNU student
I'm not live in Joseon Dynasty but
The world is not fair for me
Drive me that I'm less than my sister
Three times the sky is resentful.
SNU student is not a crack
For some reason
I'm a fairy tale Cinderella
I'm in charge of the nasty chores and chores.
While my brother went out to study day and night
10 pm, 11 pm, 12 pm
When watching a movie,
The moment you want to go to bed after work
With loud phone sounds
Order to bring my sister outside.
Away from the cozy dragonfly
With scolding parents
Going out to pick up my sister
My sister does not knows my heart
Sometimes your face is full of smiles
These big and small things pile up
I'm used to it now
Sometimes I want to be my sister
Lost and alone walking down an icy road
Sleighs wiz by splashing water on his new elf suite
Looking through decorated Christmas windows
Searching for a note from Santa leading him back
To the North Pole
I hitched a ride on Santa’s sleigh playing one of Rudolph’s
Reindeer games but now, I just want to go home
My voice is rasp from the cold singing to a Christmas tree
This Song
Oh find me Santa I am lost and alone
What have I done
I promise never to play anymore Reindeer games
Please find me Santa
I am cold
Hark the Herald angel sing a villager came upon me
Offering hot coco with cream
While sitting by a warm fire I hear a thunder
Then through the Chimney he came
Ho, Ho, Ho, there you are my small toy maker
We have searched from England to Spain
Promise me
No more
Reindeer games
Hop in the sleigh
We are going back home
Sir Henry Jerk Off
balance fo power warning in its utmost desire
cover me Charlie Sheen with his ding a ling
pardon me midnight swing Polar King;
my mind is clear now phone will ring
ten feet tall walk through the mall...
prmote a castaway villager king
Sire Henry nerw his part
a candle light variation through a dream
we look to their sea,
pulsating cock to please enough
dawn rivers threough ther trees
watching H.I.V. donner party T.V.
places we have been
Poetry Is Earned
fill their costumer with glue
lifer matters their most
Villager queen between its means
there breath of fresh air
through there Mexican sod
another fixture was found to be dead
kill off there motion reflect
blow off spots can't even hear
there is a ladder that leads outsider
framer there discomfort can't even swell
a message to blow
there portrait of gain saying
agree with that compulsive
my aim for the grocer
stick to the native tongue
whisper in the air
a breath of fresh air
haunted to fare fetch
The tiger mast
poetry is earned
flag their ball simpler but slow
pardon there reaction shed like home,
Poetry is earned
Oil stains on canvas,
thumbprints on the frame,
the price dangling from the bottom
on a string and paper tag.
Sculpture in the corner,
penguin eggs in clay,
all piled in a random pattern
on a plate made of glass.
Gallery.
Lithography landscapes,
black and white on gray,
resigned against a cedar backdrop
like a stage before a show.
Gallery… in gallery.
If I can keep an open mind,
messages in crumbs of bread,
engaging what’s been left behind
might sweep the cobwebs
from my head… in my head.
Quetzalcoatl rising,
navigating space,
the last Chichen Itza villager
mundane in photograph.
Gallery… in gallery.
If I can keep an open mind,
messages in crumbs of bread,
engaging what’s been left behind
might sweep the cobwebs
from my head… in my head.
Gallery… in gallery.
The Wizard of Pie
The Wizard of Pie was a magical man
With raspberry features, a coconut tan
He lived in a bakery atop of the hill
Where crust grew in gardens and bloomed on the sill
There was a big warehouse he constantly swept
Where pumpkins and apples and cherries were kept
The villagers loved him, it was no surprise
For he made the best ever Christmas Eve pies
Though this year was different, his pies were the same
But something had happened that tarnished his name
A villager spotted him eating some cake
And called him a liar and called him a fake
The news spread like fire, the villagers cried
They couldn’t believe that their baker had lied
Until he explained, hoping they’d understand
It was a new recipe, something he planned
A pie that was cake in a cake that was pie
It wasn’t that good, but he just had to try
They forgave him for sure, yes they had to believe
For they all wanted pies and it was Christmas Eve
11/28/18
Written for: The Punny Holiday Pies Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner
Raindrop falls from God's eye and runs off the cheek of the child
cowering behind a dumpster for warmth
It stings the face of the roofer struggling to finish the job
to buy shoes for his children
The villager raises his hand to raindrop as it fills his rice paddy
Raindrop cleans the air and reminds us of new beginnings
Raindrop gives its life force to the raging oceans, seas, rivers
and the mighty rainforests
Raindrop races to crash out of the riverbank
on its course of destruction
He cools the early evening after a long hot day
He travels on an iceberg and lives in the depths of the Earth
He decides to show his crystals to happy children
on a white Christmas morning
He falls on summer night and rises to a foggy sunrise
Raindrop gives the farmer a huge smile as it falls to do it's work
Raindrop reminds us God is good as it joins the rainbow
on its journey back to Heaven
For raindrop is eternal and is with us today, gone tomorrow and will surely return someday
Raindrop Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
11/15/18
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