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Àŧùl Apr 2017
^_^
Angel?
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Called The Girl Out Without Knowing Her Name,
"Hey Young Lady!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Thought I Saw Despair In Her Amber Eyes & Must Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Called My Captain & Asked, "Do You See A Girl In That Raft?"
The Captain Just Replied Kindly, "Commodore, Get Married,"
I Looked Apprehensive And He Just Said, "There's No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Enter My Room Down The Stairs Amazed & Confused,
She Floated There As She Waited By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of Hers And Start To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.

7 Paragraphs of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream


Angel Again?

Now I reached the lands again,
Still dazzled and confused I was,
From the encounter with that Angel,
Oh, how she had filled my twilight,
Unable to forget her divinely touch.

Magical touch had enchanted me,
Able to recall it from the voyage,
I stumbled when disembarking,
Oh, it was the first time for me,
My thoughts would last along.

After so many days at the sea,
I planned of bathing properly,
Her illusion tricked me thereto,
Oh how her traces remained on,
Facing mirror, I stood perplexed.

Still unable to accept the reality,
I longed for that night to repeat,
My heart beats Angel in each beat,
Life staged a drama too crazy,
Unwilling to accept the reality.

My body carries the vestiges,
I turn crazier with each bath,
Her lips' traces keep appearing,
Driving me mad is her memory,
God! Bring her to life once more.

I had my powers as a commodore,
I sent for the captain of my ship,
"What bothers you, my commodore,"
And so he asked of me kindly,
Then I told him of her traces.

Smiling he told me yet again,
"I had told you to get married,"
I agreed this time and nodded,
"Alright, search for me a bride,"
Going outside, he smiled plainly.


Angel Surely?

Till Few Months Of Reaching Back,
I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over,
It Drove Me Crazy Her Presence...

Taking Time Out To Search Her Out,
I Went For The Mountainous Path,
It May Cease I Hope These Dreams.

The Horse Made Me Look A Knight,
I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks,
It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim...

Then She Came Into My View Again,
I Prepared For Tackling My Illusion,
It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere.

Took Me To A Safer Place She Then,
I Was Bewildered Again Once More,
It Was Clearing But She Vanished...

Then On My Way, I Stopped To Rest,
I Looked Around For A Place To Sit,
It Came To My View A Huge Tavern.

Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird,
I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest,
It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...


Angel Illusion?

I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?

Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.

I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful face of hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.

She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.

I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.

She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Just Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.

I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.


Angel Not Again!!!

I recovered from the night again,
She had disappeared once more,
Was she using me as a ******???

I was frustrated & also saddened,
My self-control got strengthened,
For I was not a tissue to be used!!!

I have my feelings & my emotions,
Presence and absence torture me,
Ego I had tamed got hurt by now...

I won't let that elusive Angel come,
Questioning I must be her realities,
Illusions will end this time finally!!!

I'll establish an identity of my own,
Dependent I'll not be on the angel,
Was she only a dream & no more???

I had duly asked the aged captain,
To search for a lovely bride very soon,
Oh, so sure I am about afterwards...

I was tailed by the spirit-like angel,
So irritated by her dreary dreams,
On-off, came-gone, again & again!!!

I now would learn to catch angels,
With the plan, I went to the mage,
Should I now learn some spells???

I entered through a dark alleyway,
Was told to visit this strange place,
What comes across - I wondered...

I knocked on the door & she appeared,
Very young she seemed to me now,
Just the age of the angel of dreams!!!

I noticed that she wore a long robe,
So shiny it was silvery like her hair,
Just like the angel of dreams wore...

I rubbed my tired eyes in disbelief,
"Who're you?" I asked very loudly,
"Are you the mage's daughter???"

I wondered for long & she replied,
"Your guess is correct, kind Sailor,"
She beckoned me into the shack...

I set my foot on the wooden floor,
I looked for any sign of the mage,
I want to be set free of the cage!!!

I just thought & thought about it,
But the witch was not to be seen,
Curious I asked, "Where is she???"

"I am my mother," she said calmly,
Perplexed I couldn't say a thing,
My mouth opened once & shut...

I was now about to rise & go away,
But she stopped me with her arms,
"I must show you," so she did say!!!

I did not believe what my eyes saw,
How she changed into the old mage,
Then back into her own daughter???

O I had become confused a lot now,
Why would she transform like this,
I feared if it was actually the angel...


Angel Forever?

Seeing me anxious more than a lot,
The old witch relented a little,
She let me breathe freely,
Back transformed into her daughter,
She touched my forehead,
Then I realized it was sweaty,
Seeing her lovely care I smiled a bit.

So she now lit up a fragrant incense,
The incense seemed so soothing,
She then edged closer to me,
Transcendental wings were visible,
She came even closer to me,
Then the wings simply vanished,
So traceless as if never been there.

It must have been another illusion,
The very day I had set sail to sea,
It was probably carrying over,
Troubling me each non and then,
In my wild dreams, I had seen,
True she could not be & was not,
In my life, the torment was written.

Soon I was pleading to her teary-eyed,
"Please don't torment me, it hurts!"
She looked at me with affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"

I first remembered that night at sea,
The night back at home came next,
I had been seduced by her magic,
This was the real picture every time,
I was weak but I still felt warmer,
The night ship feels like yesterday,
I was in confusion about what to do.

Her face was transitioning rapidly,
The old mother to her daughter,
Her daughter to that very angel,
And back to the old mother witch,
Her smile turned into laughter,
The witch laughing at my cries,
Her face here was contorted a lot.

She seemed to be struggling a lot,
As though fight ensued within,
Soon I figured it out by myself,
First I must **** the witch to help,
So I looked around & grabbed,
The axe that I did spot lying there,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.


Angel Ultimately?
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realized her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind sailor thank thee for freeing me."
Her words reverberating throughout,
What wind - what land - what sea,
Everywhere is her presence as I can see,
The wind whispers her name in my ear,
Since a long long time now all I wear,
Is her scent in my immortalized memory.

"Will you stay with me forever, or,
Will you go back to the heavens?"
Though I really wanted her to stay,
I love her and realize what she felt,
I offered her freedom and a choice,
I was not binding her to me in turn,
Everything was instinctive for me.

She seemed in a serious dilemma,
Struggling hard she was in herself,
I again offered & insisted this time,
"It's better you went back to your world,"
But I knew that she loved me a lot,
She tried hard controlling but said,
"I am in love with you for long."

So I am quite right that she loves me,
I am sure even she can forget me not,
Beading all our memories together,
I now know how I can gain salvation,
Not being another self-centric tantric,
"But you don't belong here dear,
So you shouldn't restrict yourself."

After this, she now looks comfortable & composed,
Ready for making a choice she wore a heart of stone,
Her lips slowly parted revealing a perfect smile,
Pearly smile again ensured me of permanent happiness,
Bright eyes and shiny eyelids of hers seemed so good,
"You can't make me stay away because you love me too,
I will keep coming in your dreams and entice your nights."

But I wanted her in my real-world now,
I prevented her from vanishing again,
I said, "Please stay, now do not go away,
Because I really can not bear that pain,"
She had almost vanished by then,
Listening to my words she chose to wait,
She said, "Even I want forever to stay."

Continuing with her divine dialogue she said,
"Say those golden words to make me stay,"
I immediately confessed, "I love you, Angel,"
"Say you love me too, oh my divine Angel,"
She didn't wait for anything more to say it,
"I love you too, oh my kind & loving sailor,"
Her powers soon left her in a flash of light.
On public demand, I clubbed The "Angel?" Series into one poem.
Àŧùl Nov 2012
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I See Desperation In Her Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Captain Now Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look Just Clueless To Which He Simply Replies, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
November 28, 2012 poem.

7 Stanzas Of A Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream Written In A Lonely Evening Reflecting Upon What I Lost Due To The May 7, 2010 Accident.

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading any of my novels after having read this poem then do visit https://www.amazon.in/Atul-Kaushal/e/B00NIQ5MTC/ for buying any of my stories.
Àŧùl Jan 2020
XOXOXOX
Angel?
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Doesn't Much Respond,
She Looks Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Spot Desperation In Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Captain Now Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look So Clueless To Which He Simply Replied, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
7 Stanzas of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream
My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Again?
Now I Reached The Lands Again,
Still Dazzled And Confused I Was,
Oh How She Had Filled My Twilight,
Unable To Forget Her Divinely Touch.

Magical Touch Had Enchanted Me,
Able To Recall It From The Voyage,
I Stumbled When Disembarking,
Oh - It Was The First Time For Me,
My Thoughts Would Last Along.

After So Many Days At The Sea,
I Planned Of Bathing Properly,
Her Illusion Tricked Me Thereto,
Oh - How Her Traces Remained On,
Facing The Mirror, I Stood Perplexed.

Still Unable To Accept The Reality,
I Longed For That Night To Repeat,
My Heart Beats Angel In Each Beat,
Life Staged A Drama Too Crazy,
Unwilling To Accept The Reality.

My Body Carries The Vestiges,
I Turn Crazier With Each Bath,
Her Lips' Traces Keep Appearing,
Driving Me Mad Is Her Memory,
God! Bring Her To Life Once More.

I Had My Powers As A Commodore,
I Sent For The Captain Of My Ship,
"What Bothers You, My Commodore,"
And So He Asked Of Me Kindly,
Then I Told Him About Her Traces.

Smiling He Told Me Yet Again,
"I Had Told You To Get Married,"
I Agreed This Time And Nodded,
"Alright, Search For Me A Bride,"
Going Outside, He Smiled Plainly.
My HP Poem #766
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Surely?
Till Few Months Of Reaching Back,
I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over,
It Drove Me Crazy, Her Presence...

Taking Time Out To Search Her Out,
I Went For The Mountainous Path,
It May Cease I Hope These Dreams.

The Horse Made Me Look A Knight,
I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks,
It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim...

Then She Came Into My View Again,
I Was Prepared For Tackling My Illusion,
It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere.

Took Me To A Safer Place She Then,
I Was Bewildered Again Once More,
It Was Clearing But She Vanished...

Then On My Way I Stopped To Rest,
I Looked Around For A Place To Sit,
It Came To My View A Huge Tavern.

Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird,
I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest,
It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...
My HP Poem #839
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Illusion?
I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?

Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.

I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful face of hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.

She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.

I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.

She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.

I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.
My HP Poem #848
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Not Again!!!
I Recovered From The Night Again,
She Had Disappeared Once More,
Was She Using Me As A ******???

I Was Frustrated & Also Saddened,
My Self-Control Got Strengthened,
For I Was Not A Tissue To Be Used!!!

I Have My Feelings & My Emotions,
Presence And Absence Torture Me,
Ego I Had Tamed Got Hurt By Now...

I Won't Let That Elusive Angel Come,
Questioning I Must Be Her Realities,
Illusions Will End This Time Finally!!!

I'll Establish An Identity Of My Own,
Dependent I'll Not Be On The Angel,
Was She Just A Dream & No More???

I Had Duly Asked The Aged Captain,
To Search For Me A Lovely Bride Soon,
Oh, So Sure I Am About Afterwards...

I Was Tailed By The Spirit-Like Angel,
So Irritated By Her Dreary Dreams,
On-Off, Came-Gone, Again & Again!!!

I Now Would Learn Catching Angels,
With The Plan, I Went To The Mage,
Should I Now Learn Some Spells???

I Entered Through A Dark Alleyway,
Was Told To Visit This Strange Place,
What Comes Across - I Wondered...

I Knocked The Door & She Seemed,
Very Young She Seemed To Me Now,
Just The Age Of The Angel Of Dreams!!!

I Noticed That She Wore A Long Robe,
So Shiny It Was Silvery Like Her Hair,
Just Like The Angel Of Dreams Wore...

I Rubbed My Tired Eyes In Disbelief,
"Who're You?" I Asked Very Loudly,
"Are You The Mage's Daughter???"

I Wondered For Long & She Replied,
"Your Guess Is Correct, Kind Sailor,"
She Beckoned Me Into The Shack...

I Set My Foot On The Wooden Floor,
I Looked For Any Sign Of The Mage,
I Want To Be Set Free Of The Cage!!!

I Just Thought & Thought About It,
But The Witch Was Not To Be Seen,
Curious I Asked, "Where Is She???"

"I Am My Mother," She Said Calmly,
Perplexed I Couldn't Say A Thing,
My Mouth Opened Once & Shut...

I Was Now About To Rise & Go Away,
But She Stopped Me With Her Arms,
"I Must Show You," So She Did Say!!!

I Believed Not What My Eyes Saw,
How She Changed Into The Old Mage,
Then Back Into Her Own Daughter???

O I Had Become Confused A Lot Now,
Why Would She Transform Like This,
I Feared If It Was Actually The Angel...
My HP Poem #850
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Forever?
Seeing Me Anxious More Than A Lot,
The Old Witch Relented A Little,
She Let Me Breathe Freely,
Back Transformed Into Her Daughter,
She Touched My Forehead,
Then I Realized It Was Sweaty,
Seeing Her Lovely Care I Smiled A Bit.

So She Now Lit Up A Fragrant Incense,
The Incense Seemed So Soothing,
She Then Edged Closer To Me,
Transcendental Wings Were Visible,
She Came Even Closer To Me,
Then The Wings Simply Vanished,
So Traceless As If Never Been There.

It Must Be Yet Another Illusion,
The Very Day I Set Sail To Sea,
It Was Probably Carrying Over,
Troubling Me Each Non & Then,
In My Wild Dreams, I Had Seen,
True She Could Not Be & Was Not,
In My Life, The Torment Was Written.

Soon I Was Pleading To Her, Teary-Eyed,
"Please Don't Torment Me, It Hurts!"
She Looked At Me With Affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"


I First Remembered That Night At Sea,
The Night Back At Home Came Next,
I Had Been Seduced By Her Magic,
This Was The Real Picture Every Time,
I Was Weak But I Still Felt Warmer,
The Night Ship Feels Like Yesterday,
I Was In Confusion About What To Do.

Her Face Was Transitioning Rapidly,
The Old Mother To Her Daughter,
Her Daughter To That Very Angel,
And Back To The Old Mother Witch,
Her Smile Turned Into Laughter,
The Witch Laughing At My Cries,
Her Face Here Contorted A Lot.

She Seemed To Struggle A Lot,
As Though A Fight Ensued Within,
Soon I Figured It Out By Myself,
That I Must **** The Witch To Help,
So I Looked Around & Grabbed,
An Axe That I Spotted Lying There,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.
My HP Poem #859
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Ultimately?
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realizes her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind Sailor Thank Thee For Freeing Me."
Her Words Reverberate Throughout,
What Wind - What Land - What Sea,
Everywhere Is Her Presence As I See,
The Wind Whispers Her Name In My Ear,
Since A Long-Long Time Now All I Wear,
Her Scent Is Immortalized In My Memory.

"Will You Stay With Me Forever, Or,
Will You Go Back To The Heavens?"

Though I really wanted her to stay,
I Love Her & Realize What She Felt,
I Offered Her Freedom & A Choice,
I Was Not Binding Her To Me In Turn,
Everything Was Instinctive For Me.

She Seemed In A Serious Dilemma,
Struggling Hard She Was In Herself,
I Again Offered & Insisted This Time,
"It's Better To Go Back To Your World,"
But I Knew That She Loved Me Too,
She Tried Hard Controlling But Said,
"I Am In Love With You Since Long."

So I Am Quite Right That She Loves Me,
I Am Sure Even She Can Forget Me Not,
Beading All Our Memories Together,
I Now Know How I Can Gain Salvation,
Not Being Another Self-Centric Tantric,
"But You Don't Belong Here, Dear Angel,
You Shouldn't Torture Yourself For A Mortal."


After This, She Now Looks Comfortable & Composed,
Ready For Making A Choice She Wore A Heart Of Stone,
Her Lips Slowly Parted Revealing A Perfect Smile,
Pearly Smile Again Ensured Me Of Permanent Happiness,
Bright Eyes & Shiny Eyelids Of Hers Seemed So Good,
"You Can't Make Me Stay Away Because You Love Me Too,
I'll Keep Coming To Your Dreams & Entice Your Nights."


But I Wanted Her In My Real World Now,
I Prevented Her From Vanishing Again,
I Said, "Please Stay, Now Do Not Go Away,
Because I Really Can Not Bear The Pain,"

She Had Almost Vanished By Now,
Listening To My Words She Chose To Wait,
She Said, "Even I Want Forever To Stay."

Continuing With Her Divine Dialogue She Said,
"Say Those Golden Words To Make Me Stay,"
I Immediately Confessed, "I Love You, Angel,"
"Say You Love Me Too, Oh My Divine Angel,"
She Didn't Wait For Anything More To Say It,
"I Love You Too, Oh My Kind & Loving Sailor,"
Her Powers Soon Left Her In A Flash Of Light.
My HP Poem #860
©Atul Kaushal
I was suggested to put together all these related poems by my friends, readers and mentors.
My HP Poem #1822
©Atul Kaushal

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/
Àŧùl Feb 2015
Now I reached the lands again,
Still dazzled and confused I was,
From the encounter with an Angel,
Oh how she had filled my twilight,
Unable to forget her divinely touch.

Magical touch had enchanted me,
Able to recall it from the voyage,
I stumbled when disembarking,
Oh it was the first time for me,
My thoughts would last along.

After so many days at the sea,
I planned of bathing properly,
Her illusion tricked me thereto,
Oh how her traces remained on,
Facing mirror, I stood perplexed.

Still unable to accept the reality,
I longed for that night to repeat,
Heart beats Angel in each beat,
Life staged a drama too crazy,
Unwilling to take the reality.

My body carries the vestiges,
I turn crazier with each bath,
Her lips' traces keep appearing,
Driving me mad is her memory,
God! Bring her to life once more.

I had my powers as a commodore,
I sent for the captain of my ship,
"What bothers you, my commodore,"
And so he asked of me kindly,
Then I told him of her traces.

Smiling he told me yet again,
"I had told you to get married,"
I agreed this time and nodded,
"Alright, search for me a bride,"
Going outside, he smiled plainly.
To everyone I recommend reading the first part firstly at the following link http://hellopoetry.com/poem/265976/angel/ so that you may relate to this one better.

On my fellow poets' suggestions, I continued the story of the sailor who had encountered the Angel-Mermaid.

End of part 2/7 of the 'Angel?' saga.

To be continued...

Read 'Angel?' saga part 3/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1154639/angel-surely/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 4/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1166821/angel-illusion/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 5/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1170623/angel-not-again/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 6/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1179276/angel-forever/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 7/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1182887/angel-ultimately/

My HP Poem #766
©Atul Kaushal
with an Apple Macintosh
you can't run Radio Shack programs
in its disc drive.
nor can a Commodore 64
drive read a file
you have created on an
IBM Personal Computer.
both Kaypro and Osborne computers use
the CP/M operating system
but can't read each other's
handwriting
for they format (write
on) discs in different
ways.
the Tandy 2000 runs MS-DOS but
can't use most programs produced for
the IBM Personal Computer
unless certain
bits and bytes are
altered
but the wind still blows over
Savannah
and in the Spring
the turkey buzzard struts and
flounces before his
hens.
Father, this year's jinx rides us apart
where you followed our mother to her cold slumber;
a second shock boiling its stone to your heart,
leaving me here to shuffle and disencumber
you from the residence you could not afford:
a gold key, your half of a woolen mill,
twenty suits from Dunne's, an English Ford,
the love and legal verbiage of another will,
boxes of pictures of people I do not know.
I touch their cardboard faces. They must go.

But the eyes, as thick as wood in this album,
hold me. I stop here, where a small boy
waits in a ruffled dress for someone to come ...
for this soldier who holds his bugle like a toy
or for this velvet lady who cannot smile.
Is this your father's father, this commodore
in a mailman suit? My father, time meanwhile
has made it unimportant who you are looking for.
I'll never know what these faces are all about.
I lock them into their book and throw them out.

This is the yellow scrapbook that you began
the year I was born; as crackling now and wrinkly
as tobacco leaves: clippings where Hoover outran
the Democrats, wiggling his dry finger at me
and Prohibition; news where the Hindenburg went
down and recent years where you went flush
on war. This year, solvent but sick, you meant
to marry that pretty widow in a one-month rush.
But before you had that second chance, I cried
on your fat shoulder. Three days later you died.

These are the snapshots of marriage, stopped in places.
Side by side at the rail toward Nassau now;
here, with the winner's cup at the speedboat races,
here, in tails at the Cotillion, you take a bow,
here, by our kennel of dogs with their pink eyes,
running like show-bred pigs in their chain-link pen;
here, at the horseshow where my sister wins a prize;
and here, standing like a duke among groups of men.
Now I fold you down, my drunkard, my navigator,
my first lost keeper, to love or look at later.

I hold a five-year diary that my mother kept
for three years, telling all she does not say
of your alcoholic tendency. You overslept,
she writes. My God, father, each Christmas Day
with your blood, will I drink down your glass
of wine? The diary of your hurly-burly years
goes to my shelf to wait for my age to pass.
Only in this hoarded span will love persevere.
Whether you are pretty or not, I outlive you,
bend down my strange face to yours and forgive you.
stone the bear Apr 2016
I think with my heart;
not my head
in my hand
or buried deep under the sand.

Because when everything comes from the core,
i don’t need to wonder any more.
Thinking is not a chore:
like folding laundry into a tidy drawer.
But that’s what draws our glass floor,
and causes us to continully snore.
But what we chose to ignore,
should be infact, exactly what we adore.
Then maybe we’d ask for an encore
instead of a 24/7 drug store.

_______

To you, i may be a boar,
but we must bust down the door.
Stop fighting the war!
Live for evermore(
if we wish to soar).

_____

But today our biggest sore
may be the us marine corp.
i hurt for their souls, scattered galore.

it is i who they fend for,
it is why their blood continues to pour.
But that doesn’t effect you,
because it happens on another shore.

Your questions? i have answer for,
but please don’t ask me the baseball score.
Those fact are not in my houses’ decor,
all forms of politics, i choose to ignore.

__________

You can call me a dinosaur,
regardless, I am not a cannibalistic carnivore.

_________

I know you may ridicule,
but i prefer to be the recluse,
only coming out, when looking for a spruce.

So, when i do explore,
you will not find me with the busy bodies,
you will find me with the mircoscopic spores.
After all, it's we they provide for.

After this adventure, i know they swore,
they could create me a commodore.
On our yaht, somewhere offshore.
There would be no more war.
just hugs, tugs, and kisses galore.

Before, I was a skeptic, *******.
i now believe holeheartedly in folklore.
My faith in prewar,
is now eternally restored.

Because mother against man always out scores,
that is why i look no more.
Nature is my only mentor.

________

now, i see myself as a matador.
i can be anything,
that is the underscore.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/140736599@N08/26397561165/in/dateposted-public/
DH Matthews Jun 2014
I'll say you're beautiful (and you probably are)
I'll tell you I'm lucky (and I probably am)
I'll preach about never until now
I'll be what you dreamed of, hopefully more
And I'll try not to snag my foot on the door
guess who has a date this Saturday
Sjr1000 Aug 2016
The Voyager has left the solar system
It has taken our consciousness
with it too
A Commodore 64 running the show
How ironic
We're still collecting those tiny bits of data
today.

What does Voyager know?
What has it experienced?
What does forty years in space give you?
Is it beginning to wonder
or
Is it way past that?

While we're going
far far further
than any human object has ever been
Earth no longer visible

(While we slaughter another human life)

Voyager is in deep being
Without borders and no hope of home
traveling forever
an extension of the human mind
heart and soul.
Got called home like a ******* dog. Like one of the obedient retrievers Commodore uses to fetch her birds. Came when I was called.
Didn’t mean I had to like it.
Twenty-five-year-old man worth his salt packed up everything. Just to skipped home, his grandfather snapped his fingers?
What a good heir to are family fortune did.
I didn’t just do it for the money. I did it because Commodore had hammered the family. I was ******* four years-old-Preserve and protect the legacy. What Smiths did. Are family coffers with even more money than was there.
My dads was doing ******* trouble ****** job of living up to his Commodore’s rigorous standards, base on his reports.
Been getting it in California. That he spent more time with his mistress than his own family.
Last message made clear. According to him. It’s boring for him, just sit in the office and do what. He rather collect all the money. And spend time with his mistress. I was *******, explained why I was sitting in a deep hole-in -the -wall. Losing out money left and right. David has no, right to collect the money. Without asking his wife.
Handle whatever responsibility Commodore threw at me, I wasn’t ready to come back to Las Vegas. Long shot.
California was better than Las Vegas. Proving myself and my worth.
David might be at my house, but I’m not comfortable him being there. With his mistress. His broke again, he needed more money.
Over the years my family seen so much from David. His troubles taking care his kids.
Bad on Finance and can’t protect stuff of legends, and it wasn’t dying anytime soon.
Like David getting behind on taxes. He just enjoyed taking something from his mistress.

Day after the sale, his mistress came to his wife’s house. Demanding for money, Mrs. Rodriguez Ellis had to called the police to Escort David mistress out her property.
I didn’t ******* know the truth, I didn’t want to know. All that mattered was that I couldn’t go anywhere in this ******* town without people looking at me and talking behind my back. About my husband and son girlfriend.
I surely hate that. I wish I could move my company in New York or Hawaii.
Maybe I could open another business in New York.
I found a bottle of Patron in front. Rub me three times and make your wish. Took me all of three days to actually Decide either I rub the bottle or not.
Basically I was shack about another problem with my son girlfriend. That girl will never walk down with my son. Her family to Considerate up nose.
I couldn’t wait to escape my son .
The perfect hideaway, and tonight I wanted to drink in a peace. I tried to settle into the idea of accepting my fate. Hell with that. Give me tequila.

Thinking about tossing back the liquor in front of me when the door opened and a gust of powerful wind dragged everyone’s attention to ward the door.
**. *******
Her hair was as black of the night. Beautiful lips as red apple. Her sin was soft as buttermilk. And a big heart that anyone have. Not only beautiful outside, Genuine heart. Perfect for my son.

David. *******.
Wasn’t drunk, but the whole world seemed to slow down as her voice. Your mistress ****** to show your wife photo pose you and her ****. Something in her purse and looked up.

David are you ******* serious?
Her vivid brown eyes kicked him in the gut, sucker punch from the way she pursed her lips as she surveyed. Gonzalez personified the saying walk in like you own her. David you like it that young. Gonzalez shoulders back, **** out and chin pointed up.
A woman on a mission. To **** David that’s hot to her. There’s no more secrets between David and his wife. David still married, but choose to mess around with his co-workers.
In another hands, khaila Smith is as same like David. Thank god , her son is not married with that.

Right about the woman-on-a-mission part. Poor ******* David, his wife *******. For mother ******* 19 years of married. Servicing this country. Than turn around tell your wife. It made your **** shift in your jeans. Seriously you crazy and weird.
Some people like her style. Smile crossed my face for the first time since I got the call from Rodriguez E grandfather that it was time to trot along home.
Won’t be why.” Turned on my stool and held out a hand, driven by pure habit.
City boy. Don’t need to know your name to drink your tequila. She saved me from giving up my identity, made her attitude even sexier-and made me want to prove her point.

I’m a city boy?”
Her gaze dropped to my shoes. She even show her biker boots, hiking boots, or steel toes. No, one cares.
I was from California, but I wasn’t raised here. My parents hired private tutors for me until I turned twelve, than I was throw in boarding school
John F McCullagh Nov 2012
The admiral of the U.S. fleet
was staring towards the shore.
A mob of people jammed the wharf.
He thought we were at war.
The good Mayor Paulo, of Monterrey
was waving with the rest.
He saw our large Pacific fleet
And, doubtless, was impressed.
The commodore made cannons roar
The impact shook the ground
By miracle no townsfolk died
And not one sailor drowned.
“Perhaps they are saluting us!”
The puzzled mayor said.
But when we put marines ashore
Such thoughts soon left his head.
That day we captured Monterrey
It was quite the feat of arms
We lost just one or two marines
to some Senorita’s charms.
The State Department soon put an end
To the splendid little war
And erstwhile foes departed friends
from the Mexicali shore.
in 1842 commodore Thomas aps Jones, of the U.S. pacific Squadron, under the mistaken notion war had been declared, attacked and captured the Mexican Port of Monterrey.  the confusion was cleared up in 24 hours, the victors toasted their "hosts" and peace reigned- for a while.
stone the bear Oct 2016
I think with my heart;
not my head
in my hand
or buried deep under the sand.

Because when everything comes from the core,
i don’t need to wonder any more.
Thinking is not a chore:
like folding laundry into a tidy drawer.
But that’s what draws our glass floor,
and causes us to continully snore.
But what we chose to ignore,
should be infact, exactly what we adore.
Then maybe we’d ask for an encore
instead of a 24/7 drug store.

_

To you, i may be a boar,
but we must bust down the door.
Stop fighting the war!
Live for evermore(
if we wish to soar).



But today our biggest sore
may be the us marine corp.
i hurt for their souls, scattered galore.

it is i who they fend for,
it is why their blood continues to pour.
But that doesn’t effect you,
because it happens on another shore.

Your questions? i have answer for,
but please don’t ask me the baseball score.
Those fact are not in my houses’ decor,
all forms of politics, i choose to ignore.

__

You can call me a dinosaur,
regardless, I am not a cannibalistic carnivore.

_

I know you may ridicule,
but i prefer to be the recluse,
only coming out, when looking for a spruce.

So, when i do explore,
you will not find me with the busy bodies,
you will find me with the mircoscopic spores.
After all, it's we they provide for.

After this adventure, i know they swore,
they could create me a commodore.
On our yaht, somewhere offshore.
There would be no more war.
just hugs, tugs, and kisses galore.

Before, I was a skeptic, *******.
i now believe holeheartedly in folklore.
My faith in prewar,
is now eternally restored.

Because mother against man always out scores,
that is why i look no more.
Nature is my only mentor.

_

now, i see myself as a matador.
i can be anything,
that is the underscore.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/140736599@N08/26397561165/in/dateposted-public/
Àŧùl Oct 2016
Standing In The Abaft In Front Of The Commodore's Cabin,
I Look Back Towards The Towed Wooden Raft Floating,
And I Am Smiling To Myself After Remembering,
How The Angel Was found, Liberated & Lost.
Yes, Sadly, She Went Away, Never To Return,
Probably Her World Was Way Too Cherishable,
And Comparing To Her World I Was So Perishable,
Now I Have Learnt That Angels Are So Very Unnatural.
A spin-off of the immemorable Angel saga.

Angel Remembered part 1/7.

HP Poem #1189
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Feb 2017
It had been a moonlit night then,
Watching the towed flaccid raft,
I thought that I had seen her resting,
Exhausted there on the wooden craft.

I called her out unbeknownst her name,
"Hey young lady," to which she responded not,
She had looked up once in anguish & collapsed,
I had thought that I had seen despair in her amber eyes & must help her.

The crewmen had then been doing the padles after resting,
I had called my captain and asked him if he could see a girl in the raft,
The captain had just smiled and said, "You should get married commodore,"
I must have looked apprehensive so he had said, "There's no girl."

True he had been as she had just disappeared,
I had then started thinking of my sleep needs that day,
I had again looked around hoping to find the girl,
I had surely compromised my routine as the commodore.

Then I had immediately realized it to be my wild phantasm,
Surely that had just been a tired sailor's mind's illusion,
For no mermaids ever existed in the real world and were fake,
I had then turned back towards the deck to go back to my bunk for sleeping.

As I had climbed down the stairs to enter my room amazed and confused,
I had seen her standing as she had been waiting for me by the side of my bunk,
I had accepted the my mind's delusion & started to lie down,
She had said, "I'm as real as your thoughts, don't fear me."

She & I-me & her, had the best time that night,
In the morning she had been gone & simply gone,
Disappeared into thin air while I was asleep,
Each day I so dearly longed for her to return.
My HP Poem #1442
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Dec 2019
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looks Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Spot Desperation In Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Captain Now Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look So Clueless To Which He Simply Replied, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
7 Stanzas of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-series/

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading my novel's eBook after reading this poem then do visit http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00MYY0DMA for buying the eBook of my story titled "7 Seconds: A Typical Guy, Atypical Life" and supporting my medical expenses.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2017
Paleo-Yuppies at Work and Play

Fading slowly from the existential struggle,
Waving their MePhones about in protest,
They swarm to Starbuck’s for adjective coffees,
Uniformed in knee-pants and bulbous sneaks
And Chinese soccer tops with little checkmarks,
Their graduate degrees at parade rest,
And in confusion, suddenly-stalled careers
Raging against the thirty-something machine.
Not trusting anyone under forty,
They rustle their foam cups and resumes’
Instead of suspicious Democrats,
And demand promotions and Perrier.
They mourn pinstripes and leather briefcases,
And the old floppy disc of yesteryear,
And fumble their PowerPoint Presentations
Tho’ once they illuminated the world
With colored markers on glossy whiteboard.
They no longer play games on a Commodore
Or rock to neo-Carib fusion jazz;
Their Rush is Right baseball caps are now filed
In trays of antique curiosities
Beside the moldering hippie stuff shelved
In an adjunct of the Smithsonian
Where curricula vitae go to be eaten
By a computer virus named Vlad.
Now, as the sun sets on Ferris Bueller’s day
They count and verify their MeBook friends -
They did not change the world, not at all, but
The world changed anyway, and without them,
And in the end they love neither Jesus
Nor The Force; like Eve, they bow to an Apple.
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

PAPERS! PAPERS EVERYWHERE...
AND NOT A* THING TO READ!


The thing I remember most about being in the Sea Organization at the Hollywood Org were all the PAPERS! Directives as I was to find. That's what they called memos. We were in a branch of L Ron Hubbard's private little army don'tcha know. Everything, therefore, had a military bent. More specifically we were in the navy. There were personnel who were labeled "bosons". And there were people with the rank of "Supercargo". And Commanding Officers. Actually, LRH would have liked us to be thought of as MARINES. Navy Seals!
He was really THAT egotistical. HIS title was COMMODORE. Yep. His overweening pride took him THAT FAR.
ANYWAY. So there was a storm of paper. Directives EVERYWHERE! Piled on desks. In inbaskets. In boxes. On filing cabinets, which were woefully insufficient for the veritable blizzard of PAPERS! I was forced to read these. DULL AS DITCHWATER. But I was given my own little pile, and a dictionary. Any words I didn't understand could be found in there. I was to look them up. And an extensive memo about the meaning of the Scientogeese which I was to learn. There was an entire LEXICON of THAT, let me tell you! More on that later on. AND we we didn't have TIME to read anything ELSE! Our day was filled with CHORES.... or reading of said PAPERS.

Then I began to notice the other "personnel" around me. NONE of whom appeared to be HAPPY. They were a grayish sort. Looked like the sun very seldom glanced their skin. Glum, yet (for all appearances), VERY dedicated. Then there were folk who seemed to be separate from the other workers. They wore filthy dark blue or black clothing, appeared to run everywhere, and address everyone as "Sir". They were called the RPF. Rehabilitation Project Force. Remember that unit and its abbreviation. For they are to loom large later in my narrative.

But there WAS one person who brought sunshine into my otherwise dreary world...

MARILYN.
If you haven't read the first six parts to my tale, I invite you to do so. Eventually this will be an entire book. I know not all of it is poetry. But it still interests. In the end you'll see what a horror scientology (and its founder L Ron Hubbard) really ARE....

(All the names, save very few, are changed to protect the innocent)

♡♡♡ LOVE YOU ALL! ♡♡♡

SoulSurvivor
aka Catherine Jarvis
Lawrence Hall Dec 2016
Paleo-Yuppies at Work and Play

Fading slowly from the existential struggle,
Waving their MePhones about in protest,
They swarm to Starbuck’s for adjective coffees,
Uniformed in knee-pants and bulbous sneaks
And Chinese soccer tops with little checkmarks,
Their graduate degrees at parade rest,
And in confusion, suddenly-stalled careers
Raging against the thirty-something machine.
Not trusting anyone under forty,
They rustle their foam cups and resumes’
Instead of suspicious Democrats,
And demand promotions and Perrier.
They mourn pinstripes and leather briefcases,
And the old floppy disc of yesteryear,
And fumble their PowerPoint Presentations
Tho’ once they illuminated the world
With colored markers on glossy whiteboard.
They no longer play games on a Commodore
Or rock to neo-Carib fusion jazz;
Their Rush is Right baseball caps are now filed
In trays of antique curiosities
Beside the moldering hippie stuff shelved
In an adjunct of the Smithsonian
Where curricula vitae go to be eaten
By a computer virus named Vlad.
Now, as the sun sets on Ferris Bueller’s day
They count and verify their MeBook friends -
They did not change the world, not at all, but
The world changed anyway, and without them,
And in the end they love neither Jesus
Nor The Force; like Eve, they bow to an Apple.
James Falkener May 2018
I was there, I saw it, Beaufort, North Caroline
A hamlet of sorts, ocean hugged, just sublime,
There’s a house near the water, on its front a sign seared
“Beware all who enter. This was the home of Blackbeard.”
Born 1680, England’s Bristol, Teach or Tack by name,
Fictitious personas, it’s the pirate’s game.
He sailed for the Caribbean as a ****** of the time;
From home port of Jamaica, fighting Annie’s war before turning crime.
Two captains by his side, they plundered merchant ships,
Cargo seized, often vessels, on their pirating trips.
A man with a thick beard, braided black in pigtails;
The ominous harbinger; full wind in his sails.
No captives were harmed, yet many vessels met their graves;
His ferocious reputation could be viewed with some praise.
In 1718, now a commodore, at the height of power,
He blocked the port of Charles Town, no guard ships, no search tower.
For a week; nine vessels stripped, the Crowley’s plutocrats were held,
Passengers questioned, then locked below, then an exchange, unparalleled.
The lives of men for medication, and maybe some trinkets on the sly,
They set sail for home port, run aground, problems intensify.
Once home, Blackbeard was offered a Royal Pardon from the British court
And that’s why the seared sign is on a home in Beaufort.
Lawrence Hall Oct 2017
Paleo-Yuppies at Work and Place

Fading slowly from the existential struggle,
Waving their MePhones about in protest,
They swarm to Starbuck’s for adjective coffees,
Uniformed in knee-pants and bulbous sneaks
And Chinese soccer tops with little checkmarks,
Their graduate degrees at parade rest,
And in confusion, suddenly-stalled careers
Raging against the thirty-something machine.
Not trusting anyone under forty,
They rustle their foam cups and resumes’
Instead of suspicious Democrats,
And demand promotions and Perrier.
They mourn pinstripes and leather briefcases,
And the old floppy disc of yesteryear,
And fumble their PowerPoint Presentations
Tho’ once they illuminated the world
With colored markers on glossy whiteboard.
They no longer play games on a Commodore
Or rock to neo-Carib fusion jazz;
Their Rush is Right baseball caps are now filed
In trays of antique curiosities
Beside the moldering hippie stuff shelved
In an adjunct of the Smithsonian
Where curricula vitae go to be eaten
By a computer virus named Vlad.
Now, as the sun sets on Ferris Bueller’s day,
They count and verify their MeBook friends –

They did not change the world, not at all, but
The world changed anyway, and without them,
And in the end they love neither Jesus
Nor The Force; like Eve, they bow to an Apple.
Of your kindness read this as half of a diptych / dipstick with "Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play."
“ Time to **** or get off the ***,
girl. Can’t keep her dangling after you forever. I’m getting any younger, and you need to get started on that next generation. China wall line must continue, I’m getting sick of waiting.”

Grandfather offers his unsolicited advice as my phone vibrates with a text. Having our regular morning meeting on his deck overlooking the gorge and Mountain.

“ Isn’t relevant to the conversation at hand.” I slide my phone off the table and turn off the ringer. Continuely ignoring the message from the other men’s I’ve been seeing occasionally for the last four months, Flips open a file with a stack of documents needing Commodore’s signatures.

Business comes first, last, always. Smith family way. Any women who spends time around me knows it, these meetings with my grandfather are sacrosanct. May be the heirs apparently to a multibillion-dollar empire, Commodore still officially holds the reins, every decision
John Bartholomew Apr 2021
This is neither poem nor query
Just a thought on that last final theory

What does rhyme with that word we know as death?
As the world finally stops turning and man sighs his final last breath

Our brains won't let us dig that far as it scares us to our wits
Go on, give it a go, you'll just come back in bits

It's the finality that our God's will never let us try to think
For we never know of that final second that just leaves us on the brink

Life is so sacred it cannot be loaded like a Commodore 64 tape
Its to be lived once, fully loaded, not in bouts and in breaks

So what is your last question before you step through those holy gates?
After this life are there any more, as I'd like a few more goes at those awkward first dates!
AiYo we make bocu pies with wise guys
Split the cake up lace ya face up
With blood as ya make up what up Jacob
Oh wait he's dead draw blood shed
It's code red beat all the feds with mad bread
And two fishes call me jesus protege instead
All my disciples packed high powered rifles
Quoted in scriptures from my pen
That paints pictures in ya mental
No sentimentals Jason's  student
So my murders laid prudent and who didn't
Learn me my flow capacity lyrical mouth shots
Cause mic cavities ya loosin' gravity
Weigh ya down then off into the skyline
Birds eye view only a few can hang out  
Pass curfews we blew through crews
From htown to new jeruz to bangin'
Hoes in Peru don't get gassed like a Jew
We'll step to you and any who
Gotta problem the spins of a revolver
Revolve em then solve em puzzle
Pieces for the polices even after ya nieces
We cold cut mafiaso blow cigars cocoa
Laced the blunts more than rastas at corner stores
That's mad dogias strong arm soldiers
Wreckin' domains harder than boulders



From Houston and I rap alot smoke alot
More than a steaming kettle ***
Busting shots nonstop to hot too trot
A commodore easy like a Sunday morning
While ya ******* adornin' and mournin'
Put her itty bitty kitty to sleep
From a late nights creeps with no speaks
Way pass the creek waters flows peak
At the rate of a volcano erupt lava slow
Clogged her temple so **** simple
Back my timbs go to the streets so
Got dough to bake enemies to crate
Only the real can relate to this mind state
Don't matter the company your enemies
My enemies and they'll all flee to the Trinity
The God the son the father but why bother
Harlem bound but a Globetrotter
Make planets rock like Bambattas sound of the shottaz
Super Cat flexin' my super gat pagin' stats  
With the presence of death dealt
Weighin' Orion's belt so no drawbacks felt
Miss tallys that followed me pride swallowed me
Almost became a ghost from a bullets host
But I dodge the invitation situations
Kind a sticky as I face this mad incarcerated scarface's
Raps Jurassic break through scholastic fantastic
As the commodore performing Sunday morning
Easy please believe me im shooting my free ***** silly
Mics catchin' goosebumps from the cold humps stomps
Out the gritty nitty I know y'all feel me me de la soul
Let it grow hits from Htown to Moscow feel me though
Rolling in dough tidy bowl sip a little Sisco Crisco
With my styles no smiles looking for the curves meanwhile
Babygirl finessin' wild dressed for my infinite prowl
As I get the mics warm perform from the early morn
Til the sunshine cracks back into darkness break of dawn


Another day another dollar it make me wanna holla
Got the grit of a rottweiler gene pool was a fool
Old school mile mule don't care about the rules
I break those open rolls Pillsbury watch the bread
Grow suckas thoughts snow beat any scenario so
Don't test ya luck or get hit with the pluck of ya feather
Reflect rhymes like sun off of leather however
Flock stocks black Goodfellas guerilla cold chiller
Who's iller than this man make hits faster than quick sand
Ya understand I'm up on ya like house bids ya dig
This ain't for the kids but for the ultimate hustler
Survival struggler watch for life's shank aimmed juggler
Who ya trusting? Friends quick to be bustin'? Crushing
Ya reality through a dash of fantasy who can it be
Tryna take me outta reality I play safe like Donnie
So stay alert to all of the cons from morn til the break of dawn


Quarter past midnight looking for melon to hit right?
Outta zone out of sight catch the rappers delight
Got beam of an eagles eyesight prey swipe mid-flight
Told y'all to watch for the snipe quick to bite recite
Make haters rewrite it's too easy to make a fuss or fight
I stay true to the game let the light from the flame grain
Season the touching with no interruption clutchin'
The V like Churchill spoil chaos to the shills motion spills
So relax and chill as the music hits ya grill I'm oh so real
No candy rain but I'm leaving a stain begins migraine
Jamming my **** right? Mad tight gaining mad rites
Rituals ****** habitual heavy weight individual
By the words I mean don't let heat come in between
Or intervene green mad man machine super clean
Rockin' it like Smokey n Jackson getting on til the break of dawn
Execute the beats proper,
As my vocals, with the lyrics drop tha,
Dopest chemist pharmacist,
Aint no harming this,
As ghostface laced this,
Fastball heat, no swinging this,
Pacifist,
Beat fashon-ist, pinning for sucess,
Still weary baggy *** guess,
Rhymes is perplex, with the sharp press,
From the Rza, cuts without the scizzor,
From the dope land of sizzurp,
Yo we got herbs,
Sounds of wonder, candy land drops, with the bitchs milkin',
Cold silkin,
Tiltin, the world off is axis, new age rap galactics,
Been nutty, since i busted from the prophylactic,
Daddy didnt rap the plastic,
Now a *******,
Straight hazardous, when they rhymes erupt,
Make rapper's starve up,
Crave for affection, of the dopest selection,
Make stevie see, catch a buzz from the bee,
Honeys drippin' lovely, above me,
Watch how i rotate thee,
Scenery, glitterwax ball control,
Check the handles i hold,
Cold, er than iverson,
Who's poppin' liver son,
Iller man, cooler than Jackie Chan,
Beat so hard,
The bass couldn't even withstand,
Peep the RL drips,
All over your screen, i make ya scream,
Like *******, in a ****** scene,
Sounds so supreme,
Divine intervention, ya bullets missin,
From the intellect kissin,
Switch the wardrobe,
Explode the pyro, watch how the flame grow,
On the mic, leave to ashes, sprinkle the hashes,
Natural high, from the sunny delight sprite sparkle, splashes


Caught a tip from the strip,
When they seen how, i flip,
Rip,
The rhyme right, plus the lime light,
Coco Cabana vibes,
Plus the thrives,
Is right, parachute ya eyesight,
Like the flash,
Of a gun sight, iight,
Switch ammunition, linked da commission,
To my position,
Fold the rap game, my ambition
Take all competition,
On ya radio, there he go,
Slippin' the floor,
Green suit valour, dressed like a Commodore,
New birth of Theodore,
bigger than encore,
Check the rain that pours,
Flooding ya stores,
Feel me like MJ, walkin' lighted pathways, mute nay says,
Plus I preys,
Like a mantis, never too much cannabis,
Check the ice on my wrist,
Frozen, from mics handling this,
James Brown sweep,
With a panther fist,
Word to my mother, s-s-s-so haters stutters,
Break the chumps out,
Extend clips, with the burners out,
Chevelle creepin',
Haters talk ****, but ill still be preachin'
I tip figurative hat to the late Cathy Robertson, longtime (lifetime) Thomas Paine Unitarian Church member, who unwittingly and quite casually made mention of contra dancing, which inopportunely, inextricably, and inaccurately linkedin to The Contras who were various United States backed and funded right-wing rebel groups that were active from 1979 to 1990 in opposition to the Marxist Sandinista Junta of National Reconstruction Government in Nicaragua, which had come to power in 1979 following the Nicaraguan Revolution.

After a hiatus of scores of years,
I in tandem with the missus
returned to a venue
March 14th, 2024
which Thursday night dances
currently held at Commodore
John Barry Arts and Cultural Center
6815 Emlen Street,
Philadelphia, PA 19119
that not only served
as palliative per bashfulness,
but even remedied
yours truly resigned himself living social
as a Norwegian bachelor farmer.

Life as a high school wallflower served me
analogous as The Idler Wheel Is Wiser
Than the Driver  of the *****
and Whipping Cords
Will Serve You
More Than Ropes Will Ever Do
without any budding female friendships
until lo… a gent tulle mandate
from my late mother uprooted me
from mein kampf

familiar bedrock level road terrain
(analogous regarding how
a duck takes to water -
meaning I identified said aerobic
rather cardiovascular workout
as an inherent quick study),
which venue offered a groundswell
of interpersonal opportunities
(preferably with persons of female gender)
to blossom forth

into golden sterling resplendent rod
of natural equipoise
(this an unbiased opinion) and balance
with freestyle élan begetting
improvisational swinging motions
unchained from the moors of formality
and lit figurative Saint Elmo’s
Sesame Street fiery dance
allowing, enabling and providing
this shy awkward self

during his young (emerging) adulthood
to cast away four ever
thy self embroidered handsome
straight as an arrow
naturally high as a kite young guy
buzzing like a yellow jacket,
thus liberating spontaneity
that je ne sais quoi joie vivre
clamoring headlong toward venus
from healthy pistol packing

overflowing bin laden
well nigh testosterone
erupting male member
toward opposite gender,
whereby bravado donned as key
to *** field of whet dreams
fostering initial albeit late blooming
roll in the hay hormonally
rooted rutting squeal.

Back in the day,
(when genders binary)
with nary a care
in the webbed wide world
I ate, breathed and lived
for contra dancing
experiencing social anxiety
and profusely sweaty palms
every mile of the way
(twenty door to door dash)

from (at that time)
324 Level Road
to then designated site
at Summit Presbyterian Church
6757 Greene Street,
Philadelphia, PA 19119,
where love's labor lost
found yours truly
engaged in pitched losing battles
introducing yours truly

(even after expiating my carnal sins)
to romantic liabilities incurred
while displaying comedy of errors,
when risking a overtures to ask
an attractive woman to be my partner
not only for one dance,
but also to explore the parameters
of fun two people can experience
while wearing clothes.

— The End —