"conferring" poems
Every night I lie awake
And every day I lie abed
And hear the doctors, Pain and Death,
Confering at my head.
They speak in scientific tones,
Professional and low—
One argues for a speedy cure,
The other, sure and slow.
To one so humble as myself
It should be matter for some pride
To have such noted fellows here,
Conferring at my side.
19.5k
This letter, is to inform you, about a
bomb threat
that we received this, morning. Name of a Name
Unified Consolidated ISD,
a State-Recognized School of Somethingness,
Where Kids Come First under the theme of
All The Kids All The Curriculum All The Time
is committed, to the safety and education
of all our students and We Are Number One,
Go #Thundercatbears!, ‘Cause We are #All-Hashtagged
in Unity and Oneness. We also, want
to clearly communicate with split infinitives
And crazy commas all over the place
to parents about safety issues when they
get found out arise.
This morning, a phone call, was received,
by the receptionist at
The-Latest-Name-Held-in-Place-with-Velcro-Until-the-Next-Name-Change
Elementary School and Essential Spirit
Dreams New Dawn Progress Learning and
Technology Center of the Future
stating a
bomb
was present, on the campus.
After conferring with the Threat Assessment Team,
The Standard Response Protocol team,
the Chinkypin-Lizard Lick Police Department parked in the handicapped spaces at Tia Jolene’s Goremay Eats ‘n’ Bokays out next to the Interstate,
the cheerleader sponsors,
Facebook,
Twitter,
our attorneys,
and Superintendent Dr. Hamestus Goodoleboy “Spike” Ponsonby III,
the students were rapidly, and efficiently evacuated
to a safe area up in the football bleachers
where they would be more obvious targets
and the school was professionally and thoroughly
swept for anything suspicious and untoward.
During this time,
when no students were in danger,
another call was received stating that gunshots
were fired in the school. There were no gunshots,
fired in the school and
no children were in danger at any time.
Currently, we’re are is allowing students,
who were never in any danger,
to return to school as usual
where there was never any danger at any time.
We will have extra counselors and therapists available
if students or parents needs supports are
counsolining in spelling ‘n’ sentence structure.
The students were never in any danger at any time.
All threats to our school where
their was never any danger
and students who were never in any danger
will be taken seriously immediately
and thoroughly and investigated
thoroughly and fully except for that call
last week that we managed to keep covered up.
We wanted to inform you of the correct facts
because our correct facts are the only facts
so you can discuss them with your child/ren
Of any race, *** color, creed, religion,
or gender identification or not
and emphasize the seriousness of our facts,
which are the only facts. If you discover
Any facts untoward or out of place please contact us
At the district office at
*** *** xxxx ext ***
or the Chinkypin - Lizard Lick Police Department
immediately and thoroughly.
No children were in, danger at any time.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 5:07 PM UTC
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
"second ***
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you "second"
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my *******
rowling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second ***
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
2.2k
1655
Conferring with myself
My stranger disappeared
Though first upon a berry fat
Miraculously fared
How paltry looked my cares
My practise how absurd
Superfluous my whole career
Beside this travelling Bird
1.9k
312
Her—”last Poems”—
Poets—ended—
Silver—perished—with her Tongue—
Not on Record—bubbled other,
Flute—or Woman—
So divine—
Not unto its Summer—Morning
Robin—uttered Half the Tune—
Gushed too free for the Adoring—
From the Anglo-Florentine—
Late—the Praise—
’Tis dull—conferring
On the Head too High to Crown—
Diadem—or Ducal Showing—
Be its Grave—sufficient sign—
Nought—that We—No Poet’s Kinsman—
Suffocate—with easy woe—
What, and if, Ourself a Bridegroom—
Put Her down—in Italy?
1.6k
She sings, unites beautiful melody with a naturally melodious language
The end result being how I don't have a clue what she's saying
chanting the mantra given to her
by the bearded sage in the terry cloth bathrobe
who told her "your mind is a vast field where elephants gather to play"
before conferring the mantra
She lets the Sanskrit words roll over her tongue
a vernacular of formidable power
effecting even those who don't speak a word
such was I, Sanskrit illiterate, but the repetition
opened the lotus flower of my heart
the baby blue visage of Sri Krishna materialized
from the words she was singing
I took away his flute and blew a line from an old Jethro Tull song
she thought it enchanting
but Krishna was not happy to see his vaunted woodwind in the hands of a mere mortal
he stepped up to me, polite as can be
he says "if you don't give me my instrument I will be forced to cut off your hands, and then what do you think will happen to this poem?"
I stood my ground, possession being two thirds of the law
I blew the flute solo from Genesis' "The Musical Box" (having known it by heart)
the blue boy asked several times for me to
give him that almighty flute
each time I told him "No! You'll have it soon enough"
apparently not soon enough
(For he felt a pair of garden shears slice firmly through his right hand
the same set of shears severed his left
he dropped his stylus and papyrus to the ground
toppled over, landing smashly with a great crash
within a matter of time he bled out from the stumps where his hands had once been attached
Krishna picked up his flute and said
"what a pity"
and vanished into thin air
it all ended quickly as it had begun
and the sweet lady never stopped chanting her mantra
in fact her back had been turned before Krishna even showed up
it was a great shock to find her gentleman friend's lifeless and handless body on the ground
She shed a tear
I was no less miserable and sad
wished above all else
that I had been a real poet
so I could have finished the man's life work)
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 5:21 PM UTC
~
Barely breathing
as the long day exhales
all of the thoughts roaming
around in my head
And I regret the words
uttered in a single breath,
when darkness claimed the day
and my weary mind spoke
without conferring with my heart,
saying things un-meant,
losing the one I love
And now I sit here gasping,
desperately trying to inhale
hoping that was not
my final breath
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 8:18 AM UTC
Art I worthy of such privilege
To love thine true beauty?
For I'm but a humble stalk, my
silent flower
aloft resplendent in a Sun beam
conferring meaning to life.
Alas! perfidious winds grieve
as a triste petal trickles
to the ground rent asunder
in the capricious hands of fate
I metamorphose to a sceptre
you a jewel in its crown.
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
To see you is to look at a band of winds sharing their realm
Comprehending which one flows the best
While voices stroke the air with waves that overwhelm
Removing all the distance from the rest
To see you is to look into a house of joy where all lamps are lit
Full of many soothing hearts full of life and love
Containing familiar scents of which I admit
Must be from heaven up above
To see you is to see a thousand years of golden days
In all my many thoughts divided by the sea
Knowing you have always lived within the rays
Of these dreams held inside of me
To see you is to see a power that for a moment smiles
Summoning a protective destination
Never conferring with that which is not worthwhile
In the dawning of circumspection
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 7:50 PM UTC
Bent beneath this candle’s flame in shadowed cavern lost to light
I wrestle with my rationale to question what I seek is right.
To bend my beetled, battered brow, bent fist beneath my whiskered chin,
To worry, nay to question why…my daughter’s hand is right for him.
Complex are the reasons why he strives to seek her hand,
His dubious inflexion in the way he likes to stand…
Looming and superior he condescends to give
Long lectures of complicity in how wrong, mere mortals live.
There are fractures in the porcelain, thin cracking of the glass
And a chill wind blows within me should I let these questions pass.
For I doubt the man’s sincerity, distrust his very stance
And I’m loath to giving daylight to exposing this to chance.
I’ve come to a decision, hard, to snare his spiders web
With deceptions of complexity with potions, black and red.
Tomorrow as the daylight dawns I’ll paint the mountain's frown
In sowing seeds of conflict to bring this union down….
Endureth she of curve and grace, repaireth she who cries…
I’d rather this, than see her bleed, a lifetime wed to lies.
Marshalg
24 July 2015
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
Sentient street,
As we walk through the gates of sentience,
Like a child,I quirked my head,
Left~right and back with innocence,
To glimpse at their seemly slums;a nimble haul of dread,
Tucked me,as I gander the miscellany artistry,
The winsome combs on their chambers,
By builders and framers,
For all;but the aesthetics I knew belonged to the affluent,
An erudition I needed not to imbibe as a student,
Oblivious of myself;I spotted their melancholic eyes in their inscriptions,
And read the histories and encryptions,
The stares they gave tremored my heart,
And tore the arteries apart,
My soul wept for their bereavement but tears was deficit in my eyes,
As I march to the yard of his repose;I said"A journey we shall all embark"
Gawking at the annexation of other chambers,as grief berserks,
I got there,
I stood meters afar and stared,
As the priest blessed the yard;And prayed for his soul,
Conferring him into the bossom of his maker,
And instructing the digger afterwards;to dump him into the hole,
His folks quaker,
And bade him their farewell with flowers,
In their last hour,
But as they fetch sands and stones to wrap him,
In their faces I saw grim,
When the diggers spat and slapped;his coffin with stones and shovels,
For this has been their long awaited muscle,
And in deligence;they deliver,
"This journey I will embark too"I said,
As I stood in my shiver,
And withdrew and left in mopes.
Sentient Street
©Historian E.Lexano
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
THE BESTOWING BOY
-ARAVIND BHARGAVA
“Once there was a boy,
For whom conferring was a joy.
And the boy loves his friend so much,
And enjoys everyday in his touch.
Every day the boy visits his house,
And a feeling of joy arouse.
At the time of acquiring something from his friend,
Saying “No thanks” was his real trend.
And the boy was happy.
One day the boy perceived,
A bull searching for food to be received.
And famished poor people pleading
People for food feeding.
And condolence stimulated over the boy.
The boy on the very next day,
To keep the starving away.
Took grains, silage and balancing food after lunch,
For the bull and the poor people to munch.
And by seeing the elated tears,
The feeling of pity in the boy clears.
And the boy was happy.
But time went by,
And the boy prolonged offering thereby.
One day the boy’s beloved friend,
Visited the boy’s house for joy to tend.
And the boy offered something for his friend,
As giving was his real trend.
And the boy was happy.
Conclusion
Always keep your hand
In a conferring position, rather than
In an acquiring position.
And if you always expect
Something from others
You are a beggar”
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
Dark clouds conferring
Over the stillness of my soul
Afraid to move
Just in case
I splinter
And scatter
All of my pieces
To the corners of the world
Never to be whole again
Jul 12, 2012
Jul 12, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
She is dressed to survive
In a world of all deprived
The wind blows cold
As she keeps her hold
Ahead she sets her sight
Discerning what is right
A land of ice and snow is the circumstance
Conferring with the wild gives her substance
She had no place in her kind but nature
Ordaining a life of solitary nurture
The snow, the trees, and the mountains embellish
A family of pines housed her dawn of relish
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
an ambrosia of love
permeated the air
lovers captivated by
its beautiful fair
two souls tasting the
oneness of love's romance
a close combination
to the alluring dance
hearts sharing a profound
link of emotion
the fruits of love
conferring deep devotion
ever savouring love's
bouquet so divine
a harmony of such
satiating entwine
an ambrosia of love
permeated the air
lovers captivated by
its beautiful fair
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC