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By Arcassin Burnham

Kissing the ring of death , now that ain't what you want to do,
Their painting the town red ,really just to make it dead,
Unlock the third one , right in the middle of your head,
Find your power , anything to get loose,
Anything to get loose, that makes,
Other geese jealous and fly away from the one spitting all the
truth,
And we don't bother, for all you hypocritical people still on
snooze,
Soul comes alive like the crow in night when it stalks its prey,
Better hope you do,
Despite the circumstances , I still can't do,
I'm aware of this world , I'm aware of the truth,
I'm aware that they want to make slaves out of you,
I'm wishing that the most high comes through,
I'm wishing that the more that I reach for it, I could see
A better virtue.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/10/nirvana-save-me.html
 Mar 2017 Silence Screamz
ryn
Heated...
Like the fevered blood coursing through veins

Malignant...
Like open sores upon the skin

Defeated...
Like the drums that faltered in the rain

Potent...
Like the potion quietly bunged within

Temporary...
Like the promise doomed never to be kept

Hasty...
Like the mouth which spoke too quick

Greedy...
Like the palms, too eager to accept

Dead...**
Like the heart that now refused to tick
 Jan 2017 Silence Screamz
ISHA
Walk the path that leads to the river.
With it's water of purity, enchantment,  and love. It can restore.


Yes my darling the river does heal,
But it can't heal the dead.
So beware,  if this river is used for wicked. This water of good, will be tainted.
So will the things around it...
The trees will die, and the earth will shake.
The animals will leave
The sky will darken, and the wind will blow heavy.
This land will rot..
So. Who will teach humanity.
To stand for nature, and the animals...


Who will teach them to stand for themselves.
Her memory...
230

We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing—
’Tisn’t all Hock—with us—
Life has its Ale—
But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy—
We chant—for cheer—when the Wines—fail—

Do we “get drunk”?
Ask the jolly Clovers!
Do we “beat” our “Wife”?
I—never wed—
Bee—pledges his—in minute flagons—
Dainty—as the trees—on our deft Head—

While runs the Rhine—
He and I—revel—
First—at the vat—and latest at the Vine—
Noon—our last Cup—
“Found dead”—”of Nectar”—
By a humming Coroner—
In a By-Thyme!
1086

What Twigs We held by—
Oh the View
When Life’s swift River striven through
We pause before a further plunge
To take Momentum—
As the Fringe

Upon a former Garment shows
The Garment cast,
Our Props disclose
So scant, so eminently small
Of Might to help, so pitiful
To sink, if We had labored, fond
The diligence were not more blind

How scant, by everlasting Light
The Discs that satisfied Our Sight—
How dimmer than a Saturn’s Bar
The Things esteemed, for Things that are!
All that glitters is not gold
All you hear is not the truth
All you want is not required
All the waste it shows the proof
All the time that you've been given
All the things you should have said
All the times you could  have loved
All the times you fought instead
All the opportunities you missed
All the days you chose to waste
All the decisions not thought through
All the times you'd act in haste
All the things that really mattered
Allthe times you never cared
All the times you didn't listen
All those times you never shared
All because you chased the rainbow
The material gains you'd rather hold
All the time to loves been lost
All that glitters is not gold .................
I was visited again by Death.
Not the hooded creature, but a shadow of my own cadence
        slid across the cortex of my mind
                the place
        where the rational man falls to the unceasing siege of the animal,
        where every edge of every plane of time thrusts itself and
                interrupts our daydreams to inter seeds
                of fear
                of frustration
                of hope
                of anger
                of things gone
                of things we wish
                of things we want
                of
                        things we dare never speak aloud.

It (I) brought to me (myself) no vision of my own demise,
        no recycled image from film or phone or fable.  It brought worse:

My own house.
My own floor.
My own back
        hunched.
My own legs
        crossed.
My own head
        bowed.
My own shoulders
        heaving.
My own arms
        flaccid.
My own lap
        heavy.
My own son
        Limp.

        Brown curls on a blue forehead in a peaceful, lifeless rest.
        A pietà.

        ---

I fade away as I appeared, and revive. A searing kiss on both eyes.

        Brown curls on a pink forehead in a peaceful, mid-meal grin.
        A Cheerio.

        ---

Wake up!
Wake up! Arise! Look out!
        and See
        and Be
        and Grasp
        the Goodness of All around You.
I raise my voice,
I say it out loud,
I speak for myself,
But they close my mouth,
Beware they say,
Be safe,
from whom I ask,
"Men" they say,
I stare at them,
I cannot fathom,
This fear is ridiculous,
Demeaning my existence,
women claim power,
Displaying weakness,
Men are only but humans,
Outspoken and strong,
But so are you in everyway,
Then why women do you not talk?!
caramel skin
like the sweet scent
of toffee & warm sugar
during a summer festival.

you called me exotic,
with black eyelashes
******* my even darker
raven eyes.

no other woman
could ever compare
with my soft voice,
strong principles,
and thoughtful nature.

you called me exotic.
but I wonder if you know,
I am a stranger within my skin,
within my community.

I am exotic
in an unsettling way--
halves and quarters,
of thoughts and ideas,
and never whole enough
for anyone.

my parents
are whole people
with a fragmented daughter;
to them,
I am a stranger--
I am exotic.

I am both
sickened and liberated
by my difference.

but mostly,
terrified.
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