"accommodated" poems
Erebus disaster - November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is Vanda Station.
We have clear weather with no cloud and little wind.
If you want to fly over the dry valleys we will flash you with our signal mirrors so you can pinpoint the station.
Vanda Station, this is NZ niner zero one
Roger, we are now just north of Cape Hallett and will call you again for directions.
November Zulu Niner zero one Vanda Station.
Roger It’s a right hand turn just after Beaufort Island.
For the next few hours
There was no word
worst feared not heard
The radio crackled through the night
In the un natural sound of SSB
All crew up drinking coffee and tea
with the midnight sun
Glued to the HF single sideband
November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is
mac centre mac centre
howcopy
November zulu niner zero one
This is
vanda station vanda station
five four zero zero
Relay relay mac centre mac centre
Please contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Relay relay mac centre
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen howcopy
All through the night
Over and over
Hour after hour
The same message
Until that fateful call
Feared by all
Mac centre mac centre
This is
navy three two one
wreckage sighting wreckage sighting howcopy
mac centre
navy three one niner
Longitude
One six sefen
Two sefen echo
Latitude
Sefen six
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre mac centre
This is
Navy three two one
Correction Correction
I say again latitude
I say again Latitude
Sefen sefen
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre
Navy three two one
Ahh ahh mac centre There appear to be no survivors
Howcopy
So it was then,
That the on board data longitude error some would blame for the crash
Is something that happens often but is accommodated by good airmanship
by not relying on one thing alone.
was repeated in similar fate
by a latitude error
in the crash site location message
from the search aircraft XD01-48321
that found a terrible sight
that the sun stayed up on late
on a truly awful night
when 257 souls met their fate.
©GARY LEWIS.2009
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
Erebus disaster - November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is Vanda Station.
We have clear weather with no cloud and little wind.
If you want to fly over the dry valleys we will flash you with our signal mirrors so you can pinpoint the station.
Vanda Station, this is NZ niner zero one
Roger, we are now just north of Cape Hallett and will call you again for directions.
November Zulu Niner zero one Vanda Station.
Roger It’s a right hand turn just after Beaufort Island.
For the next few hours
There was no word
worst feared not heard
The radio crackled through the night
In the un natural sound of SSB
All crew up drinking coffee and tea
with the midnight sun
Glued to the HF single sideband
November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is
mac centre mac centre
howcopy
November zulu niner zero one
This is
vanda station vanda station
five four zero zero
Relay relay mac centre mac centre
Please contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Relay relay mac centre
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen howcopy
All through the night
Over and over
Hour after hour
The same message
Until that fateful call
Feared by all
Mac centre mac centre
This is
navy three two one
wreckage sighting wreckage sighting howcopy
mac centre
navy three one niner
Longitude
One six sefen
Two sefen echo
Latitude
Sefen six
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre mac centre
This is
Navy three two one
Correction Correction
I say again latitude
I say again Latitude
Sefen sefen
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre
Navy three two one
Ahh ahh mac centre There appear to be no survivors
Howcopy
So it was then,
That the on board data longitude error some would blame for the crash
Is something that happens often but is accommodated by good airmanship
by not relying on one thing alone.
was repeated in similar fate
by a latitude error
in the crash site location message
from the search aircraft XD01-48321
that found a terrible sight
that the sun stayed up on late
on a truly awful night
when 257 souls met their fate.
©GARY LEWIS.2009
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
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
Beat-Up Old Car
Vastly under-appreciated possession
In dull blue, a MK1, no less, with original rust
Inside lingering scents of Exchange and Mart
top-notes of WD-40 and miscellaneous mix tapes
A car like this gets into your life
in lumpy knuckle-barking unsubtle ways,
stays there in subtle ones
That long drive back to Yorkshire
in the quintessential exemplar
Clutch cable snaps.
****** and Crap.
Hardly helpful but can be accommodated
with enough thought
rough though it is
on starter motor
and nerves whenever
anticipatory powers inadequate
and we are forced
to a complete red-light stop
Brakes dodgier, exhaust noisier
than ideal or legal
Gender-ambiguous
elderly tyres flirt outrageously with slick tarmac
Showing their canvas underwear
and male-pattern baldness
Keeping this unstable, unsafe, unreliable
ultimately essential lump of metal
moving and on the road
is a fine art
Engaging, fluid and intense art;
The Clash and The Specials
Costello and The Cure in support
A distraction then
getting hauled over by plod
somewhere near Bury St. Edmunds
Thatcher's boys.
Tax? MoT? Insurance? ID?
No real interest shown
Any passengers in the back?
Clearly no. Pickets?
Pickets? What?
Please open the boot sir... Oh.
On your way lad. Drive carefully
I was, officer, I was
More than you will ever know
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
***The mistress of my hereafter stole me away,
As she so oft does,
To a few minutes of quiet conversation.
In her silenced voice I could read my own
Long since Christianed anguish,
So near it is - but so ****** far away.
If only in Faraway we had us a private cottage,
Maybe then we could retire to our dreams.
The dressing room there
Would always be yours.
For I make everything yours
And call it so beforehand.
Thus making you the mistress
Of my entire hereafter.
My alpha - my omega.
This “Hereafter” is but a melancholy term ‘lest
We find ourselves stole away whilst
Communicating through our spirits.
For in spirit we have already met and
Shall surely meet again.
Let the certainty of it
Brighten us with its forth coming.
Thou surely must be the author
Of the utmost of our faith.
Faith in that day of heaven’s thought where
In Faraway the cottage nestles between
Twin peaks in the sweetest valley
Ever laid at your feet while eyes
See every days' blue azure sky.
There we dine together by candlelight
In the middle of the day while we
Cater the meal toward happiness.
In Faraway, all around us lives
In a rapturous praise along with all that ever was.
And if you should ever find my wit oppressing to
Your kindness, then show your disdain and
I will surely take my leave.
As we look together through the candlelight
Let us see only the highest values in each other.
Let my eyes put your name on notice
That if I were so employed as to be a slave
In this land called Faraway, then my heart
Would be no less than the prophet accommodated
Somewhere within your walls.
There with a stool and a candlestick
I would sit patiently waiting for your unmaking.
There my soul could be at peace from this world.
I’d lean against your wall with the candle in my hand,
I’d look into your eyes as I blew out the light.
The cottage would then come to life
As would the hearth within us.
We’d breathe in each other fueling the fire.
For love is the fuel that burns here in Faraway,
Our sweet vapors rising high into the sky.
They are bless'ed fires that never end.
Come - blow out the candle once more and
Let's lose our disguises–
Later I'll relight the candle so we can
Blow it out and do it all over again.***
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 8:38 AM UTC
Crush:
An intense but usually short-lived infatuation.
Fantasizing about the relationship that could happen.
Shy:
Timid, easily frightened away.
Although the wanting to just say hey.
Wonderwall:
Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time, the person you are completely infatuated with.
But the wish for all the shyness to disappear is still here.
Nervous:
Highly excitable; unnaturally or acutely uneasy or apprehensive.
The wanting to meet but still playing defensive. Accommodated by umm, uhh, ummm.
Hello:
Used to express a greeting, answer a telephone, or attract attention.
Hi, umm. Don't blow it, don't blow it.
Hi! I think you're cute, pretty, adorable, beautiful, lovely, gorgeous. Would you like to go on a date?
Date:
A social appointment, engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person.
She said yes.
Happy:
Delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing.
She is not just a thing, she is my everything. She makes me very happy.
Love:
A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
It's a four letter word that can have a million meanings and yet only one.
Marry:
To take as an intimate life partner by a formal exchange of promises in the manner of a traditional marriage ceremony.
I take you to be my wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us apart, and this is my solemn vow. I love you.
You:
You mean so much,
Yet I do not have a definition.
Because you always seem to surprise me.
No words in this dictionary can describe your overall beauty.
Amazingly, I'm at a lost of words.
Beautiful:
The dictionary's crush;
A person who is reading this.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
sway - “how have you been ?”
me - but you sit and you think about things. you replay moments in your head . you think about the first signs of trouble you ignored. you think about the way you accommodated your needs for them , compromises , half smiles , nights in bed with them .. etc you realize **** . you don’t really like the way they laugh, they’re actually pretty stupid , you were blinded etc ... then you think to yourself was this love ? did i only like movies on sundays because it’s what they wanted ? or because i enjoyed it ? did i like chocolate chips cookies because it was their fav or it taste good ? & then you’re like NO . it wasn’t for me , that wasn’t me , i wasn’t myself . you probably thought this person was the “one” . then you look back , i mean really look back & then you’re like no . so you just delete all that **** . and you start over . you start to feel good , better than before . you feel relieved . what’s for YOU will always be for YOU . so you go through this whole process . it’s not easy, but it’s worth it . somedays you wanna eat your heart out & you wanna cry to the sky . wondering why you have to go through this stupid **** other days you lay back and smile at the sky while the sun shines down on you & you feel good . you start to realize all good things take time . you don’t rush it or half *** it . you go through it . and you’re gonna feel great . you’re gonna feel like one of Van Gogh’s pieces in a world that lacks color . but you made it . rome wasn’t built in day & neither were you .
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 3:35 AM UTC
It took a very long time for A to find B,
and possibly even longer for A with B to get to C,
then D shadowed, and along came easy E,
F hurried, G stumbled, and before you know it,
H pushed, I shoved, J fell, K and L bullied,
doormen and bouncers hired,
and hooked red velvet guest rope installed.
M and N showed legs and other stuff,
O accommodated, P arrived peeing and puking,
Q wandered in by mistake,
R flashed cash, S slid unscathed,
T grinned teeth, U did what?
V spread, W wowed,
and the rest, X, Y, Z,
is history.
If death is nothing, why fear it?
Is it the indifference of nothingness that disturbs the living?
All the energy and effort spent?
Unfinished business? Dead silence?
Or is it the tickle on skin of summer breeze?
Astonishing possibilities?
Privilege of existence?
There are moments when I
almost do it,
a very fragile brink, I want to
call, see, be with her so bad.
No matter what, I miss,
adore her intelligence, sense of humor, moods, body, beauty.
Why?
If death is nothing, why fear it?
Eyes perceive
group of young men approaching
momentary assumptions of danger
passes as inner fear and distrust
process high-spirited partying.
Z: “This is confusing. Put your thoughts in order.”
Y: “But there is no true order.”
Z: “Before you speak another word,
what you got to bring to the table?
Money? Property? Prestige?”
Y: “I offer poetry, ash drawings, new architecture.”
Z: “Lay it on the line, you ****** or be punished!”
Y: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Z: “Burn this ******* on a stake,
then eat remains.”
******** runs in pleading for dickwad’s life,
but it’s too late.
******** sits chewing charred flesh at table.
Biscuits get passed around vigorously.
No talk about death.
A: “Who’s the one?”
B: “You are, Daddy.”
A: “But I’m just a tiny force of nature.”
B: “Let’s go see about C.”
A: “Am I not enough for you?”
C: “What and where is love?
Is it an illusion
I strive for an impossible chance?
When will we find each other?
Will I feel belonging?”
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
Ancient trees of majesty
why reach your arms in excellency?
Why skim the clouds and pierce the stars,
to stand so bold as warrior Mars?
Why be a thing of children's play,
and watch the scene where lovers lay?
Why touch the hearts of young and old?
Why change your leaves from green to gold?
Why dip your arms in pools below
and float your leaves as falling snow?
Why whistle tunes on winds of high
why whistle tunes as winds go by?
I waited from dawn to dusk you see
for these ancient trees soon whispered to me
We grasp the day
We grasp the night
We grasp the fowl on earnest flight
You give us breath which we repay
we mold your health in loving way
We climb these hills and mountaintops
and spread our green as greenery crops
We house these creatures in wooden shacks
and feel the cut of the woodmen's axe
We watch the peace and wars go by
and suffer pestilence without a cry
We dance and sway on winds of old
to tell our stories far untold..
This is a lyrical poem which can be accommodated by
Enya's "The memory of trees"
Author of poem is--RW Dennen of Hello Poetry
Thank you kindly
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
i've become like a rubix cube
i am placed in the cupboard
to be taken out on occasion
and put in a disarray
twisted
turned
confused
just to be put back
only after being caused more
damage
after once again being
re-accommodated
to the lonely cupboard
someone else
with obvious time to pass
clasps their hands on me
only to expenditure
their fancied time on me
but once again
being returned into the loneliness
of the cupboard
waiting for the day
when someone else finds me
dusts me off
and returns me
to my initial state of orderliness
colour co-ordinated
and whole
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 5:55 AM UTC
it was in glasbury-on-wye (wales),
school trip,
two teams, driven out of the
house we were staying,
i was in team no. 2,
we were given the assignment
to read maps...
team no. 1 got dropped off
at a shorter distance to the
house we accommodated...
my team was dropped further afield...
getting out of the mini-bus
i got the map... and just asked
'where are we, on the map?'
'here,' said the driver's index finger.
i figured out a shortcut,
via the fields, the forest, via cow grazing
patches...
we beat team no. 1...
but the moral of the story?
i still think you need to be greek,
i.e. you still have to "believe" the earth is flat...
a flat earth makes sense with directions
like east, west, south, north...
i cruised the team to an early victory
rotating the map in my hands...
i wasn't being ignorant...
i wasn't being competitive...
but to be honest i had one thing in mind...
copernican east? copernican west?
huh?!
how can you work that one out?
i know copernicus was right to stress
the earliest signs of an anti-heliocentric way of seeing,
but if there's no lucifer looking at a 2 dimensional
map of the earth... geocentric improvements
don't really help to just argue rather than get from
a. to b.; what good is geocentric copernican east
to my flat plateau need to co-ordinate a group
of people? heliocentric copernican east is
geocentric east, west, north south put together,
given the earth's orbit and the expanding universe...
geocentric my *** i had to turn into a inverse
heliocentricity... i had to navigate on a readable flat
plateau, moving the map one way up
one way the other... and we got there... beat
the other team... didn't push any cows onto the pasture...
so that's how lucifer read the map.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
Recollections by the window
darkness at the door,
a spent cigarette,
a dried up memory bank-
a laptop lying purposefully in the grass.
in between the moment is the event
The wood is riven by foxes
whimpering with cloven paws
the newly accommodated ******
rakes up a new home
the water vole scurries into the infested water
in between the moment is the event
reproduced in the computer
action and moment have ceased,
action and intent no longer connected
time and thought perpetually adjusted
hollow rain signifies emptiness
a blank screen eternity.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 2:07 PM UTC
Your failure, thought by your ear
Words of another, your dread spread
My shoulder, never not yours
Reconciliation; your voice heard.
A misery, my own doing
My recoil, accepting the proximity
Sorrow, the feeling behind my joy
The pain untold, but written in silence.
As your tears I feared; your side I embraced
A seat you offered, an honor remembered
Conversation alive again, its fragility accommodated
Your speech to me, always a pleasure.
My smile true; my heart whole
Another day for some; a renewed dawn for me.
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 4:49 AM UTC
I said goodbye
she helplessly cried
full of me
for the first time
Teardrops of
the other
by the other
Not to impress
or annoy
the canvas
of the truth of I
remained untouched
but
this uttermost cry was
maybe a cheek warming
Silent expression just
in the conscious presence
of both
embraced by both
Goodbye to this roof that welcomed
our dreams…
Goodbye to this roof that
accommodated our flows
cries
highs
ties
pies
spies
allies skies
I s
Eyes
Aiaiai s ….
All of her dramatized stories
that agonize
are
to be capsized
to emphasize -
harmonize -
energize
so that
I s
are re centralized
re authorized
along the curly hum
For the game!
like the newborn tree
growing inside of me now
of
Me ?
me again?!?
but
I need not much of these anymore
and such are all things
that gave breath to us :
the in/sentient
courageously left behind
for a cry that bore generations
and such is her’s now
A means
that helped me grow
towards this no thing thing
and You
You ?
But you…
…?
An immortalized posture of a shoulder shrug!
Nothing more
and nothing less
You - as love apart
but still with me
by each one of my shoulder shrugs
like the nameless sage of shoulder shrugs
In the western ‘who cares’ style….
We are so good at that!
So …
so ?
Be proud just!
to be commemorated as such
I will Never
pick a wildflower again
to place in my beloved vase
I did it only twice
Shamefully
Watching the truth die
Instantaneously
and no we do not like duality
But there will NOT be a third time
for such sad action
You have my word on that
I walk now alone
content with a song
of a bird welcoming
my accord
Carrying your light
in my heart
Plainness is my courage
I know you now
Your love rains
beads of truth
shaping words
of peace
that I read
incessantly
as us
knowing my duty
I go
go now
Taking nothing
Needing nothing
Leaving all
Things and
Insightful of
no things
I am you
With you
Listening
Just
to these
final
immaculate
droplets
of hers
before she willingly dies
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 10:35 AM UTC
*She plays to mimic harps and dance and form thereof
The great bashed dingy thing is glossed with extra coats of drone string grease to ease and abound
Ribbing notes and notes meretriciously
Never brazened by shy low count numbers of heads when live
Always accommodated by the secreted bar life
She plays a province of many never back for second shows
Your luck is idled to capture the girl and her Bazantar
Zero rendezvous of travel by car
Zero by plane or train
She is as spurious as main instrument held
Unknown is her home, and unknown is her name
The many graceful played and sowed from baryton, vilola d,amore, lute, and sitar
Only predilection to her is he the Bazantar
Basking her flare slight tilted and wared
He is meek but bold with her as his gold and him as her stone
They are eternity prone
The 33-stringed object and girl implode
Nothing less than reciprocal to her Bazantar flow*
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 12:17 AM UTC
I held my breath the first time I moved.
I cried while my cat screamed,
feeding off of my tension and the yelling
of the woman behind the wheel.
Like an automated sprinkler, my eyes
only watered when she was around.
As soon as I was alone, as soon as I was out,
The tears subsided.
Yet one can only hold so much in,
one can only endure so much before
the glass starts to crack and wires fray,
before the frayed wires spark the fire sprinklers
And the alarms blare.
I got in the truck with a smile on my face.
My head swayed to the songs that normally
made me cringe, the cat had no negativity
to feed off of.
Three hours went by quicker than the fourty five minutes
I first took. My muscles ached from carrying boxes,
but the stress evaporated with every step.
I was home and happy.
The wishes I made upon those shooting stars,
the wishes with tear stained eyes and a blood stained heart,
were answered and accommodated all along.
I just had to come back home.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
We're all in a box
In the middle of the ocean
Filled with families and things to do
And we stay in this box, and live
And become accommodated
And build a relationship
With the box with all the people
And it becomes a routine
You can choose to leave the box
Choose to venture out
Meet locals of various boxes
Unique beings
Who can touch you by a different culture
Or you can choose to stay
And make the box your home
Sometimes there are people
Who move from box to box
Quite often
Never really finding a home
One day
A cute blonde with blue eyes and
A love of excitement
And a love for the idea of finding
Someone she actually loves
Was sent on an incredible adventure
Out of the box
Into the open ocean
A truly remarkable
Time to speand
To make the best of
At the same time
A boy from another box
Was sent on the same route
Away from small mindedness and into vastivity
And they met
And bonded
And told stories
And made their own.
The 2 became attached
And shared a love
Even after they returned from their adventures
And it never faded
Maybe forgotten, tucked away
But never gone
Always present
Today they still share a love,
A love so strong and so willing to sacrifice money time and energy, anything that could bring the 2 back together
So she can hold him again and rub her cheek and lips on his neck and feel his warmth around her when she gets lost in his embrace
She felt like the lucky one
For once
She felt so special and so happy
That she ignored the terrible things about the box
And just sat back and thought about his crooked smile and loose lips
And remembered that he was thinking about her too
He became her idea of home
From 3,200 miles away
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
'She arrived today,all wintry smiles,
the weather seems to have accommodated,
I would not/could not feed her sadness,
so she left still hungry
with veiled threats of aloneness at christmas.
I built a fire to take the edges off her goodbye.
Divinely aromatic,
but still a chill in the air,
and a slight taste of cinnamon.'
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 2:50 AM UTC
Am in Africa, An African Being Precisely, Born Of Originality.... Hate to Hates, I Don't Criticize, I Don't Mock, I Don't Cheat, I Don't Hate, I Don't Moles, I Don't Discriminate, I Don't Intimidate, I Can't Lie, I Trust, to Be Trusted, I Accommodate, in order to Be Accommodated... I Speaks Truth for I Am Trustful... So Kin Of Honesty, Next Of Kin to Life.... I Am Whom GOD Says I Am... I Am John Kore Ajibola By Name... The One And Only Jakore Of Africa... The Awesome Being That The Earth Were Blessed With... I Am A Bless To Life And Natures... I Am Blessed To You... I Am From Nigeria, Down Through the South-Western Side, Were You Could Find LAGOS, IBADAN...ILESHA...EKITI AND AKURE..... Were Life Is At Ease For Any Being that Cares To Learn...Life Is A Teacher, The More We Breath, The More We Learn...Silence Is Golden I Believed Inn... Where GOD Is... I Am Born To Love, In Other to Beloved, While GOD Is Love.... May GOD Enriched Our Days Ahead IJN..!! You're Specially Welcome to Thy Word Of All Positivities...I Have Phobias For Every Negativities... I Have Love....I Give Love.. I Share Love... I Prefer Love... Where GOD Is Our Strength... GOD Is Love... Peace And Love... GOD With Us.!!!
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
I was in my father's office (clinic)
and there were patients waiting to
be accommodated.
And my father had them waiting
because he
wasn't there for an hour
or I guess..
But the thing is
I just sat there
Waiting for my father
but no one recognized me as his
son
Even so, the idea of it amused me
And suddenly, some of the patients
started to talk
about the artworks...about
the paintings that're hanged on the
walls.
The woman was amazed about my father's work
not knowing
that it was his
The man told her that it is his work
And then, the woman added
that she really liked the paintings
that were posted in front, looking from the outside
and said that it was... really profound
or rather artsy
I didn't want to boast or tell them that those were
my works. I just smiled
a bit and
moved on
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 1:55 PM UTC
Once, the static in my brain
Aligned so perfectly with the rushing in my veins
That it became central to my consciousness.
Perceived by my ears as an ever-rising crescendo,
My heart swelled, radiating pin-pricks - painfully,
Down to my fingertips.
I was immobilized by dread,
And capitulation to fear was imminent,
As I realized the presence
Of an unwelcome and terminal essence;
It was striving for control, unwilling to settle for less.
I at first tried to fight- but the hold was too strong;
My limbs were too weak to fend for myself,
My mind too frantic to offer help -
So I accommodated instead, and ever since.
May 20, 2024
May 20, 2024 at 9:27 PM UTC
How many great fables
Do tell of the battle
Between good and evil
Light and dark?
Arise hearts of sunshine!
Cast your strong rays
To banish the darkness
Of unchecked destruction!
The pathways of disappointment
Must be challenged
The disconnectedness of spirit
Must be reconnected
Abject Despair
Must transform into hope
Bitter numbness
Must not be accommodated
Fanfares will herald
The rise of humanity
Earth will be cherished
And life will abound
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
You are a media
A pride of the world
A means to an end
An accurate accessory
The social in the media
It welcomes it's user
An epitome of ideas
Where education takes place
Education is part of socialization
The social media educates it's user
It grants many the ability to know
It serves without delay
The social media is humble
It has accommodated a lot of junks
To produce a Juarez
for jubilance
The social media joins parties together I would have not had poems to gather
Hello poetry has become a father
The social media is indeed the mother
The social media is patient
It has been denied by penitent
But their accusations are pending
Untill they get understanding
Let's develop love for the social media
There is nothing not found in the social media
Reformers need social media
For clarification come to social media
For education come to social media
Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 5:00 PM UTC
I feel we all have this gaping hole inside of us.
Screaming out, waiting for its meaning to come alive,
Waiting for it to finally be fulfilled.
Like when you wish upon a star
You’re patient enough to wait to witness
The possible outcome.
If there is one.
It is a never ending flame,
Begging for oxygen
Desiring to grow and expand,
To be sufficient, with something new.
Something different.
It eats at us again
… and again
And through life
We are left with that hole of nothing.
Preventing ourselves to fill it.
Constantly, it tries to reach out to us
But we ignore the invitation
to dance with something
we know nothing of.
Only because
change is scary.
Change is something we pretend we are used to
But if we were all really used to it
By now,
That hole could have been filled.
Maybe it lacks the feeling of care
Or a feeling of love, or protection.
Or a feeling we know nothing of.
A feeling that we have no experience dealing with.
A feeling we are scared to discover.
Is it really possible to patch up this hole with the other emotions we know?
The ones we have already accommodated to.
The ones we are comfortable with.
Maybe the hole is supposed to be filled with nothing.
As if the nothingness is supposed to feel like something.
It is the invisible feeling we pretend is a stranger.
But we all know the feeling of nothing.
The feeling of absolute emptiness.
The feeling that breaks the silence in your head to be recognized.
The loneliness that aches inside that little hole
Waiting for something to complete it again.
Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC