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Leonardo di ser Piero painted with such flair
especially 'The Lady with Dishevelled Hair'
This head of a woman(la scapigliata )to be sure
with captivating beauty& a mysterious demeanor
a young man reaches for green tea
with lemon
but the shelf is empty and he sighs
it’s the tiny deaths in life
that prepare you for the big one
‘Do you think you can make demands of us?
Chance said ‘Why continue with all this fuss?
No worries pet you can keep him for now.
That is all I will promise or allow.’
At the mercy of hunger I agreed;
For now Jordan was not going to bleed;
The vampire said ‘You may go to the bank.
Eat madame, you look quite weak to be frank.
I’ll draw the person’s ticket we will take.
Their fate will be sealed just before daybreak.’
He led me to feed walking down the hall,
shadows lingered large playing on the wall;
I expected to drink bottles in carts,
what I thought would be wine was body parts.
In those sweet voices,
Traces of euphoria and poisons,
Pour out in waves,
Entering canals
Sound becomes delicacy,
The body Enraptured
—Horripilation—
Titillating the flesh
Instruments smite the still air—
Smokes and oxygen
Are not the only source of breath—
My tears form in perspired release
Those bumps spreading,
In the strangest of places,
Through the doors. . .
Through the windows. . .
2.16.20
lanky love's a sassy spell;
airy alakazam, wit's nest
callous cauldron oozing nectar
wanky witchery, salient bicker
its features foil hankering hoists
masticated moaning churn coils
dark dirge clothed'n rustic rhythm
crisp crescendos, masked melody
its reeling riffs are worn to trail;
etched'n concerto grosso - pored pain
throbbing thumping - its hampered hymn
bounty blitzkrieg, lame, bruised lyrics
love has no worth until it's a trade:
partners banking assets they've made.
'20:06:09:10:23
Note: of lured love.
Love,
It is not alone where fingers graze a cheek
that the softness of the skin is felt
when bathed and pampered
aloe'd and perfumed
the scent, in the stillness, is coming thru
glistening like the tips of the green green grass
freshly mowed
with the sun shinning down
on a finely tuned ...
piece of pure imperfection
I'm clover sitting close
where crimson's crushed her rose
laid in dirt,
with the inklings
unexplained
not complaining nor comparing
digging my way out
of another endless
senseless hole
weed me out and wish me luck
deflower all circumspection
we can't give in
no we can't give in
disrobe me amid anguish
wash away the heartache
and the pain
together, naked,
we'll be born again
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XVI
IF you pull a long limp face
Long as a mile of lies made of clay
Little the wonder no kind of praise
Can pull you out of utter dismay
Then if you pulled that long clay face
Right round the block up your driveway
Complain not how your face you deface
Your driveway's not a public pathway
Now if you pull that long haughty face
No matter how hard you worked to stay
On top of the world's profit-trade chase
Stache not losses onto the company's outlay
For if you pull that long uppity face
Walk you must the plank on Judgement Day
Blindfolded waist and wrists bound in disgrace
Ev'ry dog has its day since yes crime does pay
So if you must pull that panicky long face
No chauffered limousine to pave your way
Corporate tax cuts do political parties brace
High tit for tat makes for democratic sway
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 12, 2019
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : XV & XVI
XV
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were the Treasury Secretary
I'd outlaw all big-time " companies " who beg for money
Especially those who beg in the name of the Almighty
I'd write virulent circulars on how to cajole Him through litany
To wheedle trillions of dollars euros yuans rupees throughout Eternity
That is, if ever I were the Treasury Secretary
And even if I never ever had no country
XVI
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were the Minister of Finance
I'd make every charitable organization head dance
On a tight rope stretched from here to comeuppance
For wasting nearly all what we give them on bribes penthouse mags and stamps
And take them on a tour of the streets and hovels littered with hungry children and tramps
That is, if ever I were the Minister of Finance
And even if I never ever had no country
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 5, 2018
SONNET XVI
FOR A GOOD LIFE
In a quest to be wise Lord, I’ve sought counsel,
I’ve sought for that priceless One,
That one rule that will answer to the question of A Good Life.
Exhausting an array of examples around,
Sampling for the kind of results we desire,
What we have now Is a conflicting compendium.
Hence, The Sage has dramatically dropped The Lead Counsel,
It is a scene of to your tents o Israel,
Be it unto You according to Your Faith,
There’s neither a hard nor a fast rule to life,
Listen to the voice of The One within,
He will guide, He’ll surely take you through.
So Lord, to You I trust my Fate,
Be it unto Me according to Thy Word.
@FEBRUARY 2017/ ©M.H.O.G Unveiled
He's messed up the whole earth's morale
Donald's not a traveler's pal
Because he's a thug
We must yank out his plug
As Kubrick directed for HAL
Author's note: Last line is a reference to "2001 A Space Odyssey." Quite like what happened to the HAL 9000 computer in the film, we certainly think there is something wrong with the brain of our master.
evening flight -
from highlands to lowlands
the sun sets twice
XVI.
They spoke kindly those.
They reveled fondly of theirs
Of tender times reminisced.
Journeys made in fellowship.
Deeds for the sake of deeds.
Forgiven solely to forgive.
They broke bread partook of salt and imbibed wine.
None can speak ill of such charity.
Of this a query arose.
Thine was not of those.
© veritatem voluntatem 2015?
Transformation (XVI)
Do you think you know water
because you drink it?
It’s not just chemistry,
hydrogen and oxygen molecules…
yes, its nature is fluid
and its texture is wet,
these are what the senses know.
Water has no steady-state,
it can be frozen in matter
or be the dancing clouds,
it transforms based on the environment;
changes to stay balanced…
To the arrogant fish,
water is life and death,
to know anything else is useless.
To the self-centered garden, water
is a blessing and a curse; it doesn’t
make judgments like good or bad,
it only knows that it craves it.
The gardener notices mercurial drops
of rain staining his kale leaves
and he realizes that gold
is the currency of Men
but the Master prefers silver,
like water, it is present
in the sky and the earth.
Have I not taught you anything,
young silversmith, about water?
Is there nothing here, in the words
of a blind man, to inspire you?
Do you know water well enough, White Feather,
to make it rain? Only then will you
truly understand it.
Words: 182 2/13/17
The morning eye do I love
it see a new day untouched
a breath of sight so grand
a peace-inner speak-eye
tussle the bed sheet, a flag
that Nation for the sleeper
my Anthem made of murmur
whisper-speak my tender love
and each morning i awaken
do i see my Nation next to me
that Anthem her name and lips
and her voice angelic bliss.
:: - ::
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