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David Hilburn May 2023
Wasp addendum
More than out of and
Quote the finality, well to avoid...
A sting that churched a brassy man

Wasp substantial
Adding the heed, of couth and comparison
Does a reach for time, understand arousal?
Quiet time searching for youth, that knows the question...

Wasp divine
Kiss and kindred, the tools of solemn tone?
Enchastened with a host, too cursory to be orders vision
We hear the spoil of the wind, become a new loan

Wasp merciful
Craving a thought, to tell a tale kept
By the unity we foresaw, a heard bliss still...
Was a chance meeting with a yearning fate, bereft?

Wasp earthen
Where souls intertwine, the taste of home
Is a careful wish, foreseen in the earning?
Or should might, take the time to intend guidance as done?

Wasp witnesses
The tow of commonness, in the voice of salutations
Memory served, the break of justice in a winds shade
Here to fore, timidity is a challenge, for a truer intuition...
Banal was a little more off the top, than a cloud could handle.
Graff1980 Oct 2015
Weird words of working men
Collar wearing ******
Peacemakers clanging swords
Breastplates of hate
I watch us all get churched
On the ways of cruelty

I can’t stop crying
Cause love used to be
So beautiful to me
Two men holding hands
To friends kissing publicly
No shaming

Now there is violence
We break the silence
With days of silence
But it never seems
To stop the screams
And suicides
Children hang out
Flailing lifelessly
The memory haunts me
Even though it is not mine

Pale boy loves a brown boy
Sweet proclamations
Of their affections
Poetic exultations
Holding each other
As their salvation
To be loved is a wonderful thing
To be touched is a mercy

But fire burns to close
To the core of fury
Angry faces hide behind
Masks
We ask
For love
But brutality
Is their response
And now the saltine sorrow
Overflows
The ocean grows
As one more love
Is demolished
And the world becomes
A lot darker
Nicholas Rew Nov 2011
Good, My response
To her passing back
The sand blown
With the eyes of
Aesthetic in mind

Why that word
I thought as it
Vaulted off my tongue
With concepts of
Prison in mind

Sharp it flew
With purpose,
Purpose and poise
Like this time
Was the Million

Her ears shrugged,
Shrugged at the;
Assault of lies
That rested in my
Relative well being

With Life tuned
And voice an eighth
Churched praising the
Inevitably frowned

I pondered intently
The origin of should
And why green dependent
My; Lies of Good.
Before my deoxyribonucleic code has been sent
To my mother by a male parent,
I was on his land of sand,
As barely apparent.


(spermicide)


2. Then, I was finally sent
Into my female parent,
On another land,
Barely planned.


A couple of months went that I spent
In my mother's abdomen rent
On that green land,
Barely planned.


Then, my rentee went to that land,
Flying to the land of crescent
Where I was to be meant
For a big moment.


(embryonic)


5. The event happened, the end of the rent,
Under the flag with the red crescent;
I was by a Jewish name penned,
On the fifth May after Lent.


Falling into my mother's hand,
Still without any dent,
Back, I was re-sent
To motherland.


On that land, red in discontent,
White until the Lent's end,
And green at Lent,
I had one parent.


I had no knowledge when he went,
But I was without a male parent,
With only two women, a grand-
And an abnormal parent.


His furious leaving left an advent
As my mother madwomaned
With a schizophrenic scent,
To madhouse "never" sent.


The balance keeping us under tent
Was our draconian grandparent
With an infinite financial grant
That let us live on that land.


For alms, we walked to granny frequent',
And I loved her as my parent
For that little attachment
I barely experienced.


The further notions I experienced:
I was sent and sent and sent;
Nursed, schooled, churched,
And kindergartened.


But even before my childhood could end,
I found myself hard to befriend;
Playing the play of a dement
With an unmatched brand.


A playful kid, maybe too vehement,
Among others, a crazy element,
I was, but inside silent,
Over-vigilant.


I liked to observe others' comportment;
What was that I have been meant,
What made me outstand
Like an alien, mutant.


Step by step, I wished the end
Of flying dishes and plant'
At my domicile rent,
End of the torment.


(pubescent)


17. I wished to vanish from the torment
Of social-antisocial banishment,
But I saw no escape slant,
Only in my poetic lament.


Though, before those sad lament,
I tried to see my life and mend
My heart with compliment,
Some failed love event.


Minutes, days, months and years went,
A lot of school skills that I learnt,
But the best one in my hand
Was the ability to pretend.


Even if I swam well in crosscurrent,
I wished to end, leave that land;
Searched by my male parent,
I planned to visit his land.


Then, my mother went to madhouse mend,
For what, I was by my university banned
To work that went well, but I meant
To start or end a life in sand.


(twentified)


22. So, as my twenty-first birthday present
Finally, I Africanly citizened
To know my descent
And the crescent.


Beyond the French and Arabic accent,
I manned myself on that land
Where I was landed and
It's not yet ended.


Changing the cross to crescent,
I could be happy and...
But people prevent
Every event.


I'd been married as I planned,
But my fam is an accident
As my birth in an extent,
In this actual land.


What to do, socially I try to pretend
That I am indeed an element,
But my DNA was meant
To disappointment.


(at present)


27. Seen these verses, it's abhorrent
As well as writing a lament,
But as a birthday present,
I wish a Happy - End.
My only birthday gift as usual, from me to myself.

03.02.2019.
K Severin Aug 2013
You say you love me
Just not my choice
What I hear is
                     your ignorance
What I hear is
                     I love you,
                                 all of you
                     Except the parts
                                 I do not want to love
                     Except the parts
I refuse to acknowledge because
they do not fit my frame
of reality
        
Do you not see the importance
of this part of me?
I would not choose
         a life of supposed immorality
         contrary to a lifetime
                                             of beliefs
         causing turmoil and
         inflicting pain on
the ones I love
I would not choose
         this confliction of
         body and mind
         residing in a life
         of constant discomfort
And yet
         here I am

I endure the pain
         of you rejecting
                     who I really am
         of judgment cast
                     by churched minds
         of sympathetic looks
                     saying Oh you poor,
                                                         lost soul

You poor, ignorant soul
You are blinded
         by your unblinding truth
Refusing to accept
things that may fall
                                 outside your preconceived box
                                 structured by misinterpreted men
                                 two thousand years ago

You can only see
through the cracks
         of the wooden slats
A view not wide enough                                                                              
to see the disentanglement
sgdexenre
s  d  xer
                     g   en e
of ***
and gender                                                                                   
A view not wide enough
to see that a person
is not determined solely
         by their given body
because bodies are temples
and temples need to be built
Temples need to be whole
         inside and out
Temples need to be refined
         after they are first built
                  Cut out rotting timber
                  Fortify with stronger rock
         and carve on the outside
         a reflection of the beauty
         lying within
She said,
'these people'
please people, knock her off the pew,
the few who churched me,
showed me,
the way to find humility.

She called those people, 'these people', god alone knows what kind of people would say a thing like that.
David Hilburn Jun 11
Sunshine with a memory
For you, a silent opportunity
In a stranger's smile, the thief of worry
Has a callous sake, a gift to those that seek nativity

A role of simplicity, if not seemly kind
The searching and adoring reach
Of sincerity in churched thought, is a wieldy mind
Of patience for mercy to step forward, and claim each?

Behave yourself, a promise to keep
Has the voice of uncertainty
When if, is to be a heart in the leap
Of such, to verify vanity is much more than a key

Have, and hello...
So fine, adjusted to curious mores
Nary come a well-wishing same, in spare owe
There is always the option, of determining lives worth

Falling asleep, in the sun
A wind of sparer tows, to remember a fate beyond...
Sulking in the needs of another, welfare of whole, come
Has a burden let, been the sake we knew, of a graceful some?
Yet in line and shine, the truer sake sublime
David Hilburn Jul 2022
Inkling, not a pact
Searching for once upon a time
Visits of the luck of another, a breezier fact
Has come home to roost, with a tear, trying

Birds of common ecstasy, the truth to overwhelm
A soul with provision, the tact a child makes
When pennies come up short, for a rain and hand so little
Known for the scope of anger we display, is this idea, sakes...

Life to love, a churched feeling
Society at large, with a handsomer gesture
Told to limits we few, in the light of sacredness, sometimes reeling
With a torrid sense of what is askew, to astute curiosity's

Life in a hug, that shewed the obvious
Where salt is to excuse the don't before isn't, the tomorrow
Of a collapsing trait of dismay, long before days keep and 'us'
As if a lowly eye had the moments to tell, a challenge is to borrow?

Can't, the powers that be swear a tolling bell to seem to be, pain
Wanting a shadow to remember itself, won't a harrowing rename
Found, the stir of simplicity in a callous sake, welling to begin plain
The total of pride in a secluded secret of virginity's live, and let fame...

The littlest reply to an age old question...
Said for a capable mind, rest and recuperation with a friend
Is ours to typify, a stare of heed and perplexment, at a kissing
Bandit, that stole your heart for your today of vice's, again...
Good night, sweet Robin, dancing with you (Eight Days A Week...)
David Hilburn Mar 2022
Halt, and see the excuse
Have of a well worn jacket
To accept the day, with these we lose
The notion of use, that came from baring heat's limits

Need in pockets, with a clamor for youth
Thread and exposition's lint
For the same side of a house of yearning, a look aloof
To the sedition of a smile, you have yet to land, or meant

Quiet weather we are having today
The tale of succor and brief exception, to still a friendlier
Season than what we are accustomed to, a habit to say
With elan, you can become the best of save, and a host trendier

Speed has your eye, the count of purpose and hello
The truth to be gleaned in a sweetened tooth, the brace
For acceptation, focused eyes on the moment od though
Will a pretty eye save thee, when lurid many, make space

Coming from now, the thought to seed nowhere with a key
Paces and distant could, the problems of promises that would
Is a blaze of silence or the dote of amenity, the fashion we seek
When presumed innocence has a fruitive plane to discuss with the world?

See the excuse, see the avarice in a rolling breeze
Wishes in hand made futures, the pout of panic to climb the known
And find the kindred of spare and special, become a churched heathen
Told to expect the will's of all, the price of poise is a mind blown with seem to own

— The End —