"behests" poems
Winter, From Summer
Winter's kiss reveals
barren nests in arbored rests
summer's love conceals
Winter's veil behests
larder meals in burrowed fields
summer's sleep divests
Summer, From Winter
Summer's hand repeals
frigid tests of nature's guests
winter's grasp unseals
Summer's warmth invests
life's ordeals on newborn squeals
winter's chill arrests
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC
The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and the flowers
Stream from the hawthorn on the wind away,
The doors clap to, the pane is blind with showers.
Pass me the can, lad; there's an end of May.
There's one spoilt spring to scant our mortal lot,
One season ruined of your little store.
May will be fine next year as like as not:
But ay, but then we shall be twenty-four.
We for a certainty are not the first
Have sat in taverns while the tempest hurled
Their hopeful plans to emptiness, and cursed
Whatever brute and blackguard made the world.
It is in truth iniquity on high
To cheat our sentenced souls of aught they crave,
And mar the merriment as you and I
Fare on our long fool's-errand to the grave.
Iniquity it is; but pass the can.
My lad, no pair of kings our mothers bore;
Our only portion is the estate of man:
We want the moon, but we shall get no more.
If here to-day the cloud of thunder lours
To-morrow it will hie on far behests;
The flesh will grieve on other bones than ours
Soon, and the soul will mourn in other *******
The troubles of our proud and angry dust
Are from eternity, and shall not fail.
Bear them we can, and if we can we must.
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
8.8k
(be-tween and be-twixt)
———-
the most precious but precarious item
in our possess, value far above rubies,
this love overflows, but it drowns me
from within, for it has no home for
pleasured sharing and goes wasted, excreted
in tears and exhalations without destination
condition incurable, and the doctor advises,
projects, a life span rangebound from
***be-tween
and
be-twixt,***
imperative that this love be
disbursed, pressure relieved,
fluid and gases shared,
send it forth,
Doc behests,
nay,
begs,
you’re a decent human,
tell your tales,
follow your motto,
write those love poems,
always leave them laughing,
and give them love in smiles
all-the-whiles
bringing joyous relief to your clogged arteries,
all this the bare minimum,
for you must moreover grasp and clasp
your body to another, for this
the best transfer transfusion
of all your needed love needs
go be needed, be great, be lessened,
be all three
and never walk alone,
with just hope in your heart,
for the heart, automatically refills,
and this the best, medical opinion…
for all those with too many love poems
requiring expulsion and extrusion
Jul 22, 2023
Jul 22, 2023 at 9:14 AM UTC
Sa pamamagitan ng kabutihan ng Kanyang Kabutihan
~~~
*the message arrive by private telegraph line,
"write,"
she behests,
more than a mortal's requests,
an authoritative pleading,
an urgent prompting
with an element of divinity attached,
almost a command
by virtue of
her virtue,
who am I to refuse,
though the writing gene/genie,
somnolent, suppressed, quiescent,
melatonined by the pills the
life force feeds us
from a bottle lonely labeled,
"whether you like it or not"
reckless explore the venues
you would prefer to never venture,
so,
this poem becomes her,
this poem be comes her,
this poem be comely
for and because of her
unbare chambers that have rusted shut,
be unafraid,
she seances me telepathically,
in the poet's way,
a crying smile accentuated with
"write of the titles you have confessed
to the body's mind inquisitor
that be stored
in the warehouses
of thy heart"
this irrecusable, willing bidding,
sneaks in the back door,
so easy oiled opened
by virtue
of her virtue
seven years of grain Pharaoh stored
in preparatory for the lean ones that
inevitable
come
yes, have so many would be's
gestated, but not fully formed,
none adequate to honor sufficient
her comely
behest
thus commissioned,
my purposeful mission,
to honor her once more,
with a simple honorific,
her wish, no matter how couched,
t'is my duty to fulfill
so here, full and filled
I grant her wishes,
with impoverished verses inadequate,
for you know her too,
as she full and fills us all*
***by virtue
of her
virtue***
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
the politicians down under
have just given themselves a wage increase
and the taxpayer would be far happier
if this kind of thing did cease
our members of parliament
are fattening up their pay packets
we the taxpayers are onto their
most unwarranted rackets
they tell us we must show restraint
in all of our pay rise requests
as the nation's finances cannot be held down
by these outlandish behests
yet they so love having the extra quids
put into their pay pots
while us taxpayers never get a single dollar
placed into our meager plots
the politicians are great at lining
their pockets with our hard earned cash
they have no conscience
when it comes to raiding the taxpayer's stash
next year those greedy politicians
will be crying poor mouth again
and us put upon taxpayer's
shall be feeling their wage rise pain
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
I'm not a comedic entertainer;
I'll leave that to pretty girls
& clowns - I'm a poet & I
always tell the truth whether
I like or not, whether u like
it or not, the truth is self-
evident & plain to see; the
most average non-thinkers
are the one pulling the levers
so, that being said, they can
all go **** themselves; I
have no responsibility to be
beholden to behests of idiots;
they'll tell me to go **** myself
& likewise I return the feeling;
they count their big bucks
while sitting on the patio of
their second summer home,
while geniuses panhandle on the
street maligned as lunatics, as the
stupidest people in the world run
the world; u just have to look
around to see the effects of evil
creeps & dumb ***** on ur life;
unless u're one of them, smiling
while everyone else is eating ****
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
YOU ARE THE SONG
You are the song
I am the singer
You are the dream
I am the dreamer.
You are the rose
I am the dew that does gather
And falls and dwells
Within you the love-receiver.
You are the swan that glides
Over me the river
You are the sunlight
I am the mist you scatter.
You are the romance
I am the writer
You are the poem
I am the reciter.
You are the violin
I am the violin-player
You are the painting
I am the painter.
You are the golden bead
I am the thread that strings it together
You are the silken linen
I am the proud wearer.
You are the beautiful and chaste princess in the castle
I am your loyal knight and protector
You are the royal prize
I am the humble suitor.
You are the gentle breeze that blows
I am a leaf you carry in cool weather
You are the beautiful tree
Under which I seek shelter.
You are the heaven
I am a tiny star and faint light-bearer
You are the voice that behests
I am the faithful messenger.
You are the song
That fades never
I am the singer
Who loves you forever.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 5:49 AM UTC
the hard up politicians down under
have given themselves a wage increase
and the taxpayer would be far happier
if this kind of thing did cease
our members of parliament
are fattening up their pay packets
we taxpayers are onto their
most unwarranted rackets
they tell us we must show some restraint
in all our pay rise requests
as the nation's cannot be held down
by these outlandish behests
yet they so love having the extra quids
put into their pay pots
while us taxpayers never get single dollar
placed into our meager plots
the politicians are great at lining
their pockets with our hard earned cash
they have no conscience
when it comes to raiding the taxpayer's stash
next year the greedy politicians
will be crying poor mouth again
and us put upon taxpayers
shall be feeling their wage rise pain
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Inconstantly to be burnt and gracefully to sink and die,
In thy eager-hearted conspirators a debasement like slothful immaterial expanse,
Neither though the behests that allowed thy interchange, which burn
Between thy hoofs, are reverend to sleep:
Within thy spring, and on thy diary, like convulsion, it is sternly,
And from thy sighing like reply threat athlete.
Sensibly while I write, my creed means are half-created.
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 3:19 PM UTC