|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
Plucking guitar strings
Pruning to make good music
Growing notes of life
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
On a temperature perfect evening, while kids play and run
I am sitting in a gazebo under a slowly setting sun
Unexpectedly, an insect appears in my line of sight
like the stereotypical tear flowing from a man of might
Watching; it saunters around my feet
Is it afraid of my presence? Should it be afraid of me?
Have I become afraid of it? Paranoid are we.
Is this the feeling the great and defeated Goliath felt?
Intrigued by this encounter, I think what an awful hand this bug was dealt.
For I have now become judge and jury; The gazebo is now a courtroom
The insect moves beyond my feet and closer to me
My nerves all rise.
Perhaps I could crush this being
like a foot to a grape, its ending would be red
On the contrary, it's possible the insect just wants to be fed
Perhaps I'll relocate the bug without the shedding of slime
It would be hard to justify such action, consider the scene of the crime,
Perhaps I shall agree with its innocent plea
and leave it alone to let it be...
The latter I chose for who am I to decide
A splatter of a death for an outdoor being, being outside
Upon leaving the courtroom feeling justice was served,
I was unaware the insect was being observed
Compassionate was I, like a god being merciful to a sinner
but it was soon caught in a spider's silky web for dinner...
Written March 19, 2017
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
It's said that a house is not a home
rather, home is where the heart is
I can agree with this statement
Of course, I have a wife and 2 growing kids
And when it’s time to go to bed
They don’t sleep on my aorta or pulmonary veins
No, they go to sleep in their beds underneath a wooden frame
But I understand what the statement means
So allow me to speak on the family
Consider the coconut from the coconut tree
Its hard outer shell protects the inside sweets
Just like the house that protects the family tree
Peradventure I stumbled upon a coconut with a cracked shell causing leaks
I would discard it simply because drinking from suspect coconuts is not my cup of tea
So when I see houses and environments run down, and condemned with cracks and leaks
No wonder the family inside is broken and weak
We have allowed our conditions and surroundings to go to waste
You eat a rotten coconut and tell me how it taste
A spoiled core growing with bacteria, germs, and mold
Missing fathers, anger, and rebellion causing a love to wax cold
But not all families are corrupted from the outside in
Yet these families are broken from within
They appear to look okay and sometimes great from the outside
But come in the door and watch the fireworks fly
Though the material representation of curb appeal is present
Providing a false sense of happiness and security
The public is deceived like fake diamonds with impurities
If designer apparel makes you happy like Pharrell,
Refrigerators stocked with food by the barrels
full sized bathrooms clean and sterile
Then why are parents sad and kids hungry for attention
While elephants in the house roam around unmentioned
These are the ills of a broken home
Somehow there is a disconnect in this landline phone
What makes a house a home?
As I said earlier, it’s often believed that home is where the heart is
To get to the root of the statement a question should be asked
Where is your heart?
Is it in the right place?
Or is left alone in the dark
Whether many rooms or few
In the physical house
Is there room enough in your heart
To love your kids and/or spouse
Is your heart in the place of material wealth and gain?
Stained with the shame of fame over pain
Performing for the world to see the family movie called "vain"
While behind the scenes there are drugs and punched holes out of anger to keep from killing each other in this house called Cain?
Or…Is your heart in the right place?
The place of Love
The place where no matter how many levels there are to your house
You still remain above
Above the current conditions
Whether they be dilapidated or immaculate
There is love, peace, training, and discipline in that home habitat
Home is where the heart is
Make sure it’s not alone
Cause when your heart is in the right place
Your house will be ready for a home.
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
On Tour
To dive into the world of the great barrier reef would be enough
assimilating into the tranquil environment somewhere in the Capricorn
looking below while leaping merrily from a bluff
Like a babe in earth's womb, I am reborn.
Like a dart thrown on a map, may it land in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco
Among the snow-capped peaks, I'd breathe the air of eagles, frozen in awe
Wind whistling with legato, birds beneath quietly chirping their song in pizzicato
I would like nothing more than to remain here in this place, a place to withdraw.
Before I bounced from this terrestrial ball I'd have to party in Spain
One last hurrah flying first class to Ibiza
One last adrenaline rush, amped with red bull, taunting bulls with eyes bloodstained
One last expression from this American, perhaps a spending spree with a visa.
When the night has come and I should travel no more
Take me back home and bury me in earth's floor
16th March 2017 -Where I Want to Go contest entry
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
I’m sitting at my desk typing on my computer.
My head is a satellite broadcasting a disrupted signal.
I can’t get a clear picture of what I want to write.
The channel keeps changing as I switch between memories and then it happens.
A message alerting me that I am now off-line and the “system is reconnecting.” It’s something to be said about how being unplugged charges you up. I soon began to pick up on a signal as clear as the sound of the bell when school is dismissed. The freedom to express myself is like a jolt of energy.
I was shocked.
I realized in my disconnected epiphany that containing written poetry, with procedural processes for seeking approval, and being paid a cash payment for placement, down to one page is preposterous.
All the glory of poetry and its ability to take life’s pie and divide it into figurative slices is so fulfilling, and to think, I’m usually greedy, however, I’m willing to share my last slice of pain topped with passion and joy but it seems that you’re on some type of “character diet.”
I guess the paper weight was too heavy.
I guess my head was in the clouds.
I guess it was just pie in the sky.
Approximately 250 words can fill a typed page double-spaced.
100 words of love, 100 words of rage carefully placed.
50 shades of feelings reverberating self-induced healing, metaphor after metaphor leaving a reader reeling, the way words and their syllables intercourse with double meanings creating couplets on paper kneeling as if they were proposing to your intellect.
With these words, I thee wed. I promise to be faithful and true, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, till death do us part, so help me, poetry...
I am sitting at my desk typing.
My mind is a sweet tooth that’s tasted a slice of heavenly pie.
Unfortunately, you have to watch what you read and count characters,
and I am done sharing.
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
They say it sounded like a freight train
And that it happened so fast
A moment of terror
That will forever last
The sound of a new reality
Marked by several casualties
We will never forget those
Who passed away in this catastrophe
There is a sound though
That is ever increasing
It’s the sound of the hammer and nail
And the constant beating
The rebuilding of cities, towns, and homes
And most importantly
The spirit of resiliency
To carry on
Yes this sound of courage
Will ring louder than any siren
Persevere through the storm
And withstand any high wind
“Let me help you with that”
“Do you need a place to stay?”
This is the sound of compassion
The sound we hear today
Do you hear it?
It’s broadcasting loud and clear
If you can’t hear it
Volunteer
This sound is only audible
With ears of empathy and humanity
Yes this is the sound of service
A sound of hope after total calamity
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
Next
by PoetPrentice
Anxiously waiting
With the patience of Job
Year after year
Every turn of the globe
I wait to be next
Feeling gladsome
Next to be able to say
The time has come
So many before me
So many to come
Marching the same beat
But to a different drum
As long as it takes
I’ll wait to be next
Though at times it seems
My efforts be vexed
I’m somewhat perplexed
But not hexed
Just...
Waiting to be next.
Written March 10, 2017
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
Scars from the past I keep for the sake of
Awareness, affirming I'm
Stronger and wiser now
Written April 1st, 2017 for the Kimo contest sponsored by Broken wings
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
We are here and we will live
Your disagreement won't dissuade us
Like hands on clocks, times have changed
tick tick tick tock, your time is up
We are here and we will live
Your disagreement won't dissuade us.
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Poetprentice Dupins Poem
The Old Oak Tree
Standing tall with your roots 6 feet under
You have survived and thrived for 8 decades
Your branches still growing all the while knowing
The good Lord blessed you with every birthday
Throughout time you withstood the winds and the rain
Suffered through droughts, yet you still remain
Seeing the forest for the trees from the owl to the bee
These days, trees like you are an endangered species
All of your rings, clothed by bark you’ve reaped over the years
Tell stories of a history filled with sunny days, fallen leaves, & sap-filled tears
You’ve stood tall through days of war, unrest, and protest
You’ve seen man fly past your highest peak on to fortunate and fateful quest
You’ve heard of the gentrification of your kind for wealth’s sake
You’ve dealt with wise owls, lazy dogs, and all types of snakes
Yes, down through the years you were and are the guiding landmark
Husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather you are a true patriarch
A tree of knowledge and wisdom but with fruit that is a blessing
A tree of life with love ever manifesting
So, on this special day with our hearts all aflutter
we will all become a tree hugger.
Copyright © Poetprentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017
|
|