"abounded" poems
Can't sleep, it's always the same.
I get to my room, exhausted, lie in my bed,
Close my eyes and the Sleepless Fairy
decides to take the reins of the situation.
Maybe if I go to my computer and surf for a while
I could doze off. Maybe I'll go out and have a cigarette
to calm the Fairy. No, this insomnia is different. I can't fix it
with simple solutions.
This wakefulness is not due to the anxiety of an exam,
or the diffidence I have for that one girl I can't get out
of my head. This insomnia is that small sparkle of
uncertainty that has abounded my mind for a long time.
That feeling of vagueness, of yearning. Yearning of what?
I don't know.
It is simply that feeling that I'm missing something,
whatever it is. I go around the whole day in my mind,
what am I missing? What am I forgetting?
During the day I'm acquiescent, lucid, happy.
But come night... time to go to bed.
Time to perform the daily check for recent events.
Catalog the occurrences with different feelings,
accommodated to their respective memories.
But there's something missing.
I curse the Fairy and its 1001 tricks that keep me
awake and conscious about that which is in the
subconscious.
Will the day come when the Fairy shows up no more?
As long as that feeling is housed in me, like a parasite
clogged on its new victim, the Fairy will keep visiting.
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
*At the beginning of time
The moon looked upon the earth.
And it smiled at its beauty.
There was no ending.
Only beginnings.
It’s colors glowed
in the hues of angels.
The only red
was in the night sky.
No blood had ever spilled.
Only the future lay ahead
In its endless bounty.
In the beginning of time
When peace abounded.
And no moon and star
had ever shed a single tear.*
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 5:29 AM UTC
Anna entered the room like a butterfly, gossamer to all.
Her face told a different story. One of sadness and hurt.
She wore only the finest silks and seamed cuban stockings.
All eyes latched upon her and followed every step. But no real man ever approached her.
No saviour could get near.
She wore none of her finery, the choice all his.
A trophy bride,
sold like raw meat in her childhood.
It was normal in her village, her adolescence stolen from her.
Anna's delicate neck held an overbearing sapphire necklace. It was overkill in every way.
All for show, all chosen by him, all for him.
He entered with his cronies as though owning the club.
The way he thought he owned her.
Thought indeed, for there is always a price in ownership.
Hours past champagne and fake laughter abounded.
Then she stood up.
Immediately challenged!
She wished to go and powder her nose.
Naturally escorted, god forbid she made outside contact.
But she was not watched within. Minutes passed then... The scream.
She had left, Anna had escaped him.
The anger on his face !
He had no control, lost face in front of them all.
For Anna, oh beautiful Anna lay sylph like wrapped like a cloud in her white dress, its silk floating in a pool of her life blood.
She had left, she was free.
Now her face was different, white, ashen but at peace.
Free..
Anna had left.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
There was death and gore,
During the second world war.
Many people died in extreme violence,
Killed before they could call out to loved ones.
Young men were trained to ****
Often against their morals and will.
So when I see your 1940s weekend -
Your 'war was fun and cosy' pretence,
Your clichéd polyester and fibre glass mockery,
Aiming to re-enact a mostly imagined happy-go-lucky camaraderie -
Forgive me for not joining in,
As I happen to feel it a cardinal sin,
To idealise and romanticise a decade,
Made up of austerity, rationing and air raids.
I've read a little social history,
The 1940s were not idyllic or crime-free,
Just as now, there were heroes and villains,
Among the soldiers and civilians.
Heroism abounded but so did black marketeering,
There were brave sacrifices but also racketeering.
City-wide black-outs were a gift,
To those who would rob and grift.
Your jolly nostalgic tribute is an annual celebration,
Celebrating your own fabrication,
Of a time when the machinations of war and a crazed ideology,
Saw the near extinction of an entire ethnic minority.
I do not wish to be a party pooper,
But don't just step into the fake shoes of a fictional trooper,
Please occasionally remove your rose-tinted glasses,
To remember that beyond your nostalgic narrative of the routines of the masses,
People lived with the daily fear,
Of the likely deaths of people they held dear.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC
Deep house , deep house is a spirit of joy, I'm a deep rhythm that bring enemies together , u can be a lover not a listener , deep house is about how u feel every particles of sound , every instrument , respect deep house I'm a lover and a listener. Deep house is something that u can share with friend and loved once. Deep house is enjoyable can bring back your smile, I feel joy. Let them squeeze the vibe. The would will be abounded of love and joyful. Rare enemies.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
You use to lay your hand on my
chest and take me to new york
in a heart beat.
(The coins fell to the ground )
and empty were my pockets
The rain falls differently in a small town
it cries with you
(the grass was never born)
and the trees in my town are old and
forgotten
Abounded houses represent the
people who left us behind
every gated community promises
security but instead it locks up your dreams.
I´ll hold you down (you whipser)
soothing my frustration with music
It´s like nature itself escaped
through the last storm.
I´ll scream into forsaken homes
and put up posters of
you in my room
hoping that you (come and get me)
But the postcard was sent
from a world (only the unliving can live in)
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 6:32 PM UTC
We yelled and staggered on
We stumbled and many fell
Detained in the perplexity
No respite as danger pursued
The ordeal ensued when
In the midst of clout struggle
The insurgents took up weaponry
Determined to surmount a dictator
That morning bewilderment originated
Helter-skelter we escaped for safety
Sad enough bullets out ran some
Especially as cross fires existed
We saw our Kinsmen reach for the ground
As though caught only with fatigue
But bullets indeed penetrated some
They lay motionless as we lurched on
Struggling to God knows where,
We knew not our course
No worst thing existed for us
Like the cross fires we were trapped in.
One by one we began to die that day
Randomly death swallowed us up,
While power mongers persisted
Fired projectiles missed targets for us.
We ran frantically in seek for safety
Recognizing us as restless victims,
The insurgents mercilessly began to
Extinct us with great delight
‘No one is surviving the assault
What do I do?’ I pondered hastily
‘Shall we all face our demise this way?
No, I’ll live’ I determined
Kinsmen had long fallen to rise no more
This fact gave me impetus to survive
To live and tell the story of the cross fires
History of the fallen most be told to posterity
Inspiration came to me at once
I unyieldingly fell down as one lifeless
Spilled, oozing blood entwined me
The killers shoot till no one stood
Everyone lay motionless in a stack
I lived however not too sure yet
The cross fires persisted for long
That at one point I envied my kinsmen
Finally, calm was reluctantly returning
The government militia advanced
The insurgents had not a choice
But to retreat in dread of superior artillery
We had unfortunately advanced towards
The insurgents that we became the target
Of the artillery that was meant to shield us
Blames on the wrong tactics by the militia
Abounded as calm was retained in days
But I had a story to tell of the cross fires.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 11:17 AM UTC
Progress?
Past:
The days were ever beautiful,
Golden rays and singing waves,
Soothing were such greetings.
Enthusiasm fed by nature's gifts,
Birds dancing amid bright colors,
Spirits raised into heights aloft.
Cheerfulness embedded in goodwill gestures,
Happy steps among aromatic breezes,
Many smiling and giving greetings.
Encouraging words given freely,
Unselfish acts abounded the streets,
Calm nights bathed in twinkling stars.
Now :
Cursing mornings and frightful rays,
Rising to yet another day of misery,
Slothful and devious conspiracies weaved.
Curtains drawn... scared to open,
What new horrors to behold delayed,
The nights wrongs, no rush to behold.
Morning meal's meager if any at all,
Now out into this cruel reality to forage,
Bracing for what fate will now reveal.
The birds sing of sorrowful tales,
Their melodies seem sad and bleary,
Merchants washing fronts..is that blood?
Checking faces to see if any is missing,
Heads shaking hearts pumping in fear,
What next will be the news? Paradise hijacked.
© Perveiz Ali
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
(A missive to the "Thursday Guy")
Pause, I tight my eyelid,
there your face again,
Lovely and winning.
Suddenly Interfered my mind,
Thereupon rested and died.
I can no longer pick you up,
In an opening w/c is abounding
Abounded by the thoughts of you
My mind, I was speaking (of).
On the Ascension Day, Maundy and Holy alike,
I am smiling deepest and ceasing the time.
I held on for you, I stared then,
(though your eyes are daft),
Foolish, Crazy, even though I was,
every hour.
Oldness has gone, I flew.
Withal,
You are still a beauty even in fancy
In truth,
I cleave solely in your memory.
Your hair, dawning from your eyes
Succored the threshold of my fantasy.
I intend to whisper a truth
Some words that will embody my longing
I don't want you to, all but dwell on my fancy
But to breathe with me in solidity.
Please, once again, I want to gain a stare.
-C.
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 10:55 AM UTC
Red Rhymenoceros ate the Green Galatopopulous
Red Rhymenoceros had indignant indigestion
Red Rhymenoceros abounded in agony
Red Rhymenoceros pooped placidly
Don’t eat Green Galatopopuli
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 12:24 PM UTC
Once in a place long ago,but not that far away
Lived a Missouri “Show Me Girl”named Bessie Grace.
It was here, at her Catskill home in Margaretville NY that she made all visitors feel welcome.
Goodness, Kindness and tranquility abounded in this place on the hill.
She always found a way to answer my perplexing questions,
With a soft rhetoric that was sure to make you smile.
In a million years I’d never forget all those canned comebacks of hers ,
“The World is a Stage young man” or “We're Like two Peas in a Pod or “Someday I'll mingle with the stars and throw a party on Mars”
These metaphors were her way of teaching you about the world.
One day, my first love ended and Bessie quickly responded “Didn't you know that once your heart's been broken it grows back bigger”
I just looked at her with tear filled eyes and kissed her cheek.
She had such a broad view of life’s peaks and valley’s.
She once said “you know I feel like a cow with a name like Bessie”.
I told her “ With a name like that….You should just pass wind and go full sail ahead.
We laughed until our sides hurt.
Most days she had a pocket full of lemon drops and she would say
“Take a few to sweeten your day honey”
As time passed by quickly, eventually so did Bessie.
And in 1967 she had her party on Mars.
All the stars were there to welcome her to her new home.
She had everyone's attention and to cheers she exclaimed...."My name is Bessie Grace...I'm a Missourah Girl and I've just learned that the day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of our eternity”
At Home with Bessie Grace was added
Sep 7, 2016
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 11:41 PM UTC
jeudi, venus last
lago florentine porch shredded
from balcony of vestigial vista to plutonian shore
not of usual laconic luster
nor perennial, token blue sky
instead apparitions, or entities please here
abounded with vigor, though no it was sotto voce
machete was as is wet eh, cam--
bowie's older cousin to poorly kept hedge
emitted from the formerly symbiotic fence
as when Ozmandias took the Ra's blade;
through a gold medal and into the jugular
the echo of a dropped coin evolved brutal, hear
into the veins of those arms; severed
were my once impending solitudes,
my eyes
shifted quickly towards binoculars
only to find a wake of buzzards
where once only solemnic eagles balded
the paradox of heraldry diurnal yet carrionic
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
Precipice hanging
Red rock dwellings
Hiding under the sandpine desert
Freeing me in the process
Tribal seeking
Falcon knowledge to leadeth me down road highway
Noones way
But the freeway
Riding the cool gypsie wave
Moral decay hath abounded me
With the naysayer's and no bringers
Wolves cometh by swarms
Mastered by scorn
They scorn another with boiling hot heat....
Trampling feet..
Dance to their own tune,
No rhythm and blues
But jazz gone punk!!!!
Raccoon turned skunks
On lonesome highway to hell...
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 8:55 AM UTC
The day we met
You implanted a seed
A seed labellabeled as imperfect
The next day
A tree with the sweetest offerings grew
But with it came decay
Abounded branches of love
Bearing buds of heartbreak
As the heavy branches holding fruits
That remind me of you seek support
From my ribs as they tear through my skin
I bleeeeed I pleeeed for the need
Of the expulsion of the so called seed
Of trust
The next day
I choked on a thorn
When I saw you
And when I coughed up the leaves of death
I love you was my last breath....
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
Standing here in the present of peers is "love"
The word
the knife
the fool
the deceiver
A tyrant filled to the brim with good intentions
Only to leave confusion and chaos in it's wake
The accused pleads no wrongdoings
But evidence proves otherwise
The dying heart
The unhearing ear
The voiceless pain
The witnesses to the marauder that disguises itself within a word
Here stands "love"
Charged with extortion
Robbery
Vandalism
Assault
Crimes of passion
But crimes nonetheless
Claiming it's victims with a poison in the thorns of a rose
The shiv made from a pen
Slicing through their better judgement and sanity
Here stands "love"
Barely containable
Roaring, foaming at the mouth
A twisted creature unrecognizable behind it's mask
A mask of a word that abounded in wonder and grace
That was ripped from it's seams in a world of horrors
Here stands "love"
We the jury find the defendant....
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
Love is a song that stained up in the air
Whether dead or not it'll always be there
Love is supper on a pair of lips
Onto tender heart it's drops
Love is both sun and moon
Across the sky meeting each other
Love is a lake that rages with passion
Finding ways to you no matter what's the fashion
Love is a walk in the park
While two hand, are held together
Love is when you run out of words
and you'd keep repeating just coz they run dry
Love may be a word to describe feelings
but will always be the abounded fruit tree
that would always be new with every shoot
By: Zoulaikha
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 7:24 AM UTC
It started with a cookie -- oatmeal and raisin,
soft and moist like a May strawberry.
Mom said, "wait." But waiting didn't
taste as good as stealing.
Cookies came and went -- grade school turned into
high school and lessons turned into tests.
The teacher said, "study hard." But studying
wasn't as much fun as cheating.
Graduation day arrived -- as class Valedictorian,
my speech brought my classmates to tears.
I said, "Don't ever sell out." But selling out
is easier to do than laboring.
I started my career -- working in Corporate America.
Easy money schemes abounded.
The boss said, "don't break the law." But bending
sometimes leads to breaking.
Sentencing day arrived -- convicted on nine counts.
I'm eligible for parole in fifteen years.
The judge said, "resist temptation." But resisting
doesn't satisfy like enrapturing.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
**THEREFORE Having been Justified by Faith, we have Peace with GOD through our LORD JESUS CHRIST* Through whom also we have Access by Faith into this Grace in which we Stand, and Rejoice in Hope of thy Glory Of GOD* And not only that, but we also Glory in Tribulations, Knowing that Tribulations Produce Perseverance* And Perseverance, Character* And Character, Hope* Now Hope does not Disappoint, because thy Love Of GOD has been Poured-Out in Our Hearts by thy Holy Spirit who was Given to Us* For when we were still without Strength, in Due Time Christ Died for thy Ungodly* For Scarcely for Righteous-Man will one Die* Yet perhaps for A Good-Man someone would even dare to Die* But GOD Demonstrates His Own Love toward Us, in that while we were still Sinners, Christ Died for Us* Much more then, having now been Justified by His Blood, we shall be saved from Wrath through Him* For if when we were Enemies we were Reconciled to GOD through thy Death of His Son* Much-more, having been Reconciled, we shall be saved by His Life* And not only that, but we also Rejoice in GOD through our LORD JESUS CHRIST, through whom we have now Received thy Reconciliation** Therefore, Just as through One-Man Sin Entered thy World, and Death through Sin, and Thus Death Spread to All Men, because All Sinned*** For until thy Law-Sin was in thy World, but Sin is not Inputted when there is no Law** Nevertheless death Reigned from ADAM to MOSES, even over those who had not Sinned According to thy Likeness of thy Transgression Of ADAM, who is a type of Him Who Was To Come* But thy Free Gift is not Like thy Offence, For if by thy One-Man's Offence many Died, much more thy Grace Of GOD and Thy Gift by thy Grace of thy One-Man, Jesus-Christ, Abounded to many** And thy Gift is not like that which came through thy One who Sinned. For thy Judgement which came from One Offences Resulted in Justification*** For if by thy One-Man's Offence Death Reigned through thy One, Much-more those who Received Abundance of Grace and of thy Gift Of Righteousness will Reign In Life through thy One, Jesus Christ*** Therefore, as through One-Man's Offence Judgement came to all Men* Resulting in Condemnation, even so through One-Man's Righteous Act thy Free Gift Came to All Men, Resulting in Justification Of Life** For as by One-Man's Disobedience many were made Sinners, so also by One-Man's Obedience many will be made Righteous** Moreover thy Law entered that thy Offence Might Abound. But where Sin Abounded, Grace Abounded much more** So, that as Sin Reigned in death, even so Grace Might Reign through Righteousness to Eternal Life Through JESUS CHRIST Our LORD**
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 7:17 AM UTC
with a soft flair sweet,
sublime in dress,
that chains my heart around.
feet that gracious are abounded
tressed, liked begs from cries
a blissful wishful sigh,
immortal
in mind's eye.
'tis unfair to leave me
unblessed.
from your magnificence,
or i will seek.
you
ever ,
to be
again.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Everyone laughed,
'A younger man?'
'By how much?!!'
Jealousy,Envy,
even Pity,
abounded.
I was surrounded,
By doubters.
Waiting for me to fall.
Well,
I did.
We tied the knot,
It felt forever,
An adventure into
the Land of never.
Oh! how we loved
right from the start,
couldn't stop
the beat of our Hearts.
''You maybe older then me''
He'd say,
''Beauty undiminished
You don't look a day,
older.........''
It didn't bother him,
then.
He really gave me his all,
in words,writing,
lovely cards,
whole being,
in thrall.
We were so happy
at the start.
I never tired of gazing
at his face,
incredible Grace,
His sureness of pace.
We moved and traveled,
all over the place,
two Nomads seeking
a secure haven,
to be.
Here, there, everywhere,
no cares.
I managed it all,
Never thought I would fall.
Then one day we kissed,
It was wanting,
His cell phone rang,
the sound was haunting,
strangely.
No one there,
He said,
Yet had murmured
in a language
yet to be learnt,
by me.
Slowly by degrees,
He slipped from
my arms,
took his Heart with Him,
to bestow upon,
who knows?
some others?
Lovers?
I clung on and on,
not seeing the truth,
that somehow,
I was deceived,
then bereaved
finally,
by this youth.
for the loss of Him.
I don't regret it,
not a day,
I'd chucked all
that came before,
for Him.
But worth it,
happy from the off,
in between.
Thankful for what
we had,
What has been,
Now gone.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
Reluctant to Obey destiny’s call,
The voice from within me re-echoed
Loud as never to ignite mine passion
To in me trigger an avid obligation
Write on was the command
I looked around keenly to see
From whence came the urge
Before long I realized that
The scary charge was within
Write on without hesitation
Then I knew there was a task
Gigantic in nature waiting
I cogitated on how to initiate
And realized it was pragmatic
Write on the time is now
The command again came to me
The urgency of the task ahead,
Was in it undoubtedly spelled out
And now am left but with one thing
To start writing on as commanded
Write on for there is inspiration
Pages never can contain the fountain
Of knowledge lying latent in you
Dare to take the golden pen to
Your thoughts & imaginations pen down
And be so much amazed at the outcome
Which to many shall be a resource
I reached out for pen & paper
Pondered a while to receive inspiration
Affixing pen on paper I began to write
As I dare took the challenge insight abounded
My pen had became unstoppable
My ink flew unceasingly to document facts
I sort to halt and rest but no way
Passion to finish the task had consumed me
I wrote on what should become masterpiece
If I had ventured to stop the call
The volumes of wisdom would exist not
For eternity would have me swallowed up
Knowledge in me would have been wasted
If I never heed to the call to write on
The cemetery would have grown richer
With my joining those who refused to write on.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
At a time when warmth had taken leave
and emptiness abounded;
At a place where feelings had no home
and stability was unfounded.
An existence where all faith seemed lost
and hope no longer sounded;
I caught but just a glimpse of love
with a soft, white, light around it.
The light was never constant;
it just flickered now and then
but in the darkness while it shone,
I sensed it's energy within.
I began to greet the darkness,
no longer dreading night.
I'd look upon the empty space
and know that there is light.
Closer to my heart that light
would get with each new day,
and soon my soul was wrapped in love
in such a tender way.
I could not feel his body
yet, he held me in his arms.
I could not hear his whisper
yet, he soothed me with his charm.
He could not see my loving eyes
yet, he softly dried my tears.
He knew not where my pillow lay
yet, he knew that I was near.
Where two souls meet and join in heart
there is singing from above,
and Eden is created
within this silent love.
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 3:28 PM UTC
Dreams of you -
a person never even met.
Chased around a thrift store,
second chances abounded.
A house promised and built
at the foot of a dam,
we knew better.
What monstrous water
should drown us
in our longing,
cracks shown in words
and walls.
It's like the subconscious mind
knows all along
and produces images of
your words before they are
consciously digested.
How can you be found
in dreamscapes and a spotless mind
when you have been lost
in reality
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
I'm abounded to a woman I met
years ago.
she now walks with a cane and slow
every day she wakes before me.
she fixes my breakfast, packs my lunch.
day in and day out, I wake at six
put on my clothes and join her for breakfast.
We don't talk, we don't smile.
My only words to her are thank you and see you soon.
I go to work, as she goes to the store,
While I hammer in a nail, she feeds the birds.
She works at the church and I look at the blue prints.
I eat lunch prepared in a box, wile she goes to eat with friends.
On days I don't work we spend it with family,
or fill the quiet house with the flipping of pages or the race.
We vacation at lakes and family in other towns.
We don't talk we don't comment on the way
we listen to the radio and count trucks.
Our vacations are too short, but she,
she doesn't complain when I have to go back to work.
At the end of the day I come home
supper is already ready, we sit down to eat.
We pray, and serve our selves in silence.
I shower, dress, watch some television, then go to bed.
She does the same after making sure the house is pristine,
few words have been said between us two.
I turn out the light and close my eyes.
But before I go to sleep I say a little prayer
You see, … the days pass on, but we still don't talk.
Not about the weather or the news,
not about the day we spent apart.
we manage on our own apart but together everything is right.
From the first time our eyes met I knew what she meant to me.
It is not of the words we say,
but it is the time we spend together.
I love her for the smile she holds on her face,
and the things she does with no justification.
It is the love that is always there,
love that has not been spoken.
I love her to the end of my days.
It is a love that reminisce after we both have depart,
our graves will stand justice of our love for one another.
If I make it to heaven I will meet her there
not one word will be said, not a nod of the head.
A smile will come to her lips,
because all of the "thank yous'" and "see you soon's"
that comes from mine,
are all the "I love yous" that I have said.
Each day and each moment I love her,
and she knows we are abound together,
with a few simple words,
"I do" is the longest of sentences we have ever said.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC