There's a solar wind that's contained; in the night of space
Shadows find nowhere to show; the inner light of space
Impossible to touch, it leaves us; without a trace
Frozen rings of breathing streams blasting the bright of space
No room for contrite just beguiling hearts in this place
Wall-less holding back no ones screams; in the g'night of space
All around, will be found that heartbeats heard, do keep pace
These stars are but infernos; within the blight of space
A. Scorpio, target of archers bow sites' embrace
Water that steams itself, of all desired sight of space
I find that modern concentration camps
are now hygienically focused,
fully concentrated upon themselves.
There, every glass wall is a two-way mirror
for the neatly dressed minds of swamp dwellers,
thay who slave away
weaving truth and lies together.
Nevertheless, germaphobia feels dirty all the same.
The eye in the pyramid has gone blind.
Under Benjamine Franklin’s bed
the minted scrimshaw of crisp 100-dollar bills
is chewed down to a dry-mouthed pulp.
Upon the hilly fields of Gettysburg
blood has grown a greener grass,
and yet,
on moonless nights
armies still madly charge at each other.
Call back the horses!
Let the dead fight on.
if you find yourself within those wall-less places
think of the road-kills, whole families of them,
and all they have to wear now
are flea-ridden striped pajamas.
The green walls
Dulled with age.
Food, paint, and dirt
Completely ingrained
It’s been so long.
These rooms and the hall
Why go upstairs?
I’ve seen it all.
Go out the front door.
The air fresh and clean
Nothing here though
Is a sight unseen.
2 decades of this
20 years passed
A wall-less prison
The worst kind of trapped
Impossible wishes
What to do? Where to go?
I’m less likely to leave
Than a river without flow.
And with that I sit.
On this grassy knoll.
Subjecting myself
To 20 more still.
7/25/2020
In the wall-less room
I dream golden paddy field
Flying as the child kite
From the rain mountain
I drink natural water
Calmness comes in heart
Embroidered the sky
Fearless blue instead of death
Calling dream to life
05.04.2020 (Chattogram City)
Wall beyond wall,wall beyond wall
walls beyond walls still much more
like canopies and canopies to each other.
No squares,no triangles
no hetero-morphed non-symmetric structures,
only spheres with illusive and ever spreading outer
can approach them in match.For,even zeros
can contain them if needed and they can even
drag on zeros like fairly heavy loads.
Pure and pretext less pain
is the only ink to ascribe them,
and is the only currency of exchange
to know loss or gain.
Only interiors and exteriors they denote,
only revolving or making to revolve round
they promote.To get rid of bare embarrassment
you put another wall outside.To escape the same
from within, you just try to hide in the hole
that can be bored in the centre.
No substance,no tangible really
is the structure of the apparent border,
experience instead retards and sticks you
again on still another wall like a poster.
For wall-less postures almost need some floor.
Invisible Walls
Imprisoned within my mind, thoughts
locked within fear’s wall-less room
pressing against the darkened light
trembling within the confines of my self
I dine upon the carcasses of doubt
nibbling on the choices never made
questioning each morsel of sad feast
chambered in the dungeon of mistrust.
Trust a mirrored wall of insecurity
reflecting curdled truth of jaundiced eyes
self loathing’s cursed containment
bound by indecision’s chains
lashing out at rage’s anger
echoing within these unseen walls
lone prisoner in tattered garb
sole resident of wall-less doom.
2/22/2016
submitted to – Second Chance – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Broken Wings
Forever the square peg
seeking entry into the round hole,
the smart kid pushing
when the sign says “Pull”.
wandering in the midst
of the hurried,
a dreamer adrift among
those who think themselves awake.
Viewing through the unfiltering eye
of betrayal, the betrayers,
spiritual “Madoffs”
pontificating Ponzi schemes,
promising fulfillment -
for themselves.
Square pegs do not “roll”
through life, varying
speed to meet conditions
they are more suited
to building, stability,
strength, stoicism.
They often appear lost,
disconnected from, apart
and yet “a part of”,
yet somehow lost
in the “wall-less” box
of the seeking mime,
captured in the swirling
eddy of the twisting flow,
contentedly discontent
purveyors of optional
disillusionments. Lost
in the mediocrity of
the moment, lingering
in the rippling foam
of a receding tide.
Wandering Frost’s
“road less traveled”
rejoicing in the touch
of a snowflake, the joy
of a sunflower, the edginess
of a square peg
forever lost.
John G. Lawless
2/5/2016
Frayed Baggage
by Odin Roark
Dreamt fields
Where wall-less interiors boast stunning views
Personal vistas of imagination
Requiring only attachments be left behind
The resentful
The angry
The baggage labeled heavy
For just as everyone can’t be
Who or what they think they are
Revelation often becomes frayed baggage of the mind
Clutched with guilty claws
Self-loathing that refuses to heal
Narcissistic defenses
Deliver delusions of grandeur
Driving the moral compass further downward
Where an icy kingdom of vicarious reality
Becomes one’s personal abyss
Such is the plight of a luggage-laden life
One’s weighty attempt to always be part of something
Rejecting being one with the singular self as success
The fortunate abandon that which can’t be changed
Unshackling the drag-behind regrets and disappointments
And breathing in the oxygen of continuance
Discovering closure reveals the eternal opening
The paradoxical passage into meeting
One’s innate traveling companion of wager
The one who travels with toothbrush only
Sharing weightless wins in life
We know not of…
Yet
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