"disputed" poems
Lie beneath the galaxy in a cathedral silence,
Stay up till the moon dives behind the beige mountains.
Rest on your beast, let the valves take a break,
Treat yourself with a feast, its the only time in your fate.
Slithering into my sack I rest under the canvas,
How peaceful it is far away from all the ruckus.
The monk's prayers bid me with good luck,
I'm off riding in the sparse cold desert.
I stop with the view of a disputed lake,
Miles long the jade blue reflects the golden tops.
In refuge at a monastery, fuel is a luxury,
I'd give up everything for a piece of this little heaven.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
At some point in time
she grew tired of thinking,
tired of feeling.
She couldn't leave the earth
for the sake of the ones that she loved.
Her pain enveloped her.
She hurt in silence.
Silence was her way of screaming.
Crying for help.
Hiding away,
Wishing,
Hoping,
Praying -to a God she nor accepted or disputed-
Just waiting for someone to notice her descent.
If one person could be puzzled by her disappearance it could have made a difference.
She laid in the darkness for days.
Day after day
She watched the time pass and
h o p e d
that it would soon be over.
She
w i s h e d
that someone would stop her
She
P R A Y E D
that her heart would stop
Her pain and the darkness enveloped her.
Tired of thinking.
Tired of feeling.
She just let go.
She drew back into herself and began to drown.
Sleeping, dreaming, imagining
A better life,
A significant existence.
Not thinking about important things,
Not feeling what there was to feel,
Barely existing.
Seeing that she had been let go of, she stopped
Waiting-
Wishing-
Hoping -
She stopped praying.
She no longer cried.
She became the darkness.
She became the silence.
She enveloped all.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 5:14 AM UTC
It’s unique in jurisprudence,
this case I must decide.
Child custody is disputed
between a woman and her bride.
One spouse supplied a fertile egg,
The other gave it womb.
Deciding custody is a challenge
in the absence of a groom.
Was one woman just a donor?-
having no parental rights.
Was the birth mother just a surrogate?
It’s keeping me up nights.
To which mother should I give the child?
Which one will I turn away?
I cannot cut the child in half
to let each have their way.
Its tragedy when Love had died,
leaving children in its wake.
I gave birth mother custody-
Have I made a bad mistake?
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 8:30 PM UTC
She is evil,
her manipulative ways have warped my mind,
she is evil,
she has caused me to commit an unforgivable regicide,
she is evil,
her heart is stone, and it calls me to be executed,
She is evil,
her lies have made me lost, my sanity to be disputed.
I am evil,
this story has twisted me into a monster,
i am evil,
my body taken over by a ruthless imposter,
I am evil,
corrupted by my blood thirsty hands,
I am evil,
in my wildest dreams - these werent my best laid plans.
He is evil,
my best friend, who fears i have played foully,
he is evil,
isn’t what i’m doing sick and cowardly?
he is evil,
the father who brought out my fatal flaw,
he is evil,
silence! he speaks no more!
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
is there noon on this comparison, and where does the stabilising hour care to fathom the giant and dwarf shadows of original shapes? if there is no magnetism of the clock's hour, minute, second, then the only magnetism apparent in the encircling of digestion / decimalisation, is to say the north of a compass, the compass' north equivalence of a clock's misdirecting eternity: of space for a clock asserting a mingling reason: the compass found it's existential reason in the north, yet the clock found it's "north" without care for magnetism, it equated the north with space, and yet what was encapsulated with rotary qualities? for clock the perpetuation of tick tock in space / for the clock treated space as a one-dimensional abstract, with its three-temporal awareness, and yet the compass said north thrice, and on the fourth said Antarctica was loosened to be explored.
i'm so tired - lifeless poetry,
make words encoded; i'm so tired,
so tiresome of other people
with bellies filled
and eyes in medium postponing,
to compass the needle
a gravity of servitude for the
clock of 12 (north), 6 (south),
and the disputed 9 (east) with
3 the (west),
darting eyes in Bahamas
for direction coarse yet coerced
by a promise, thus the compass riddling a madness
of constant stimulation with magnetism and
the magnet cursor of orbit -
wound three dimensions of time,
space optional, space always optional,
as ever time over-arching to be understood...
where then the compass, where then the clock,
if the compass led by vector of magnetism
to an uncertain place,
if the clock led by vector of missing magnetism
to a certain place of eased: tick, tock, tick, tock...
will that be equally given a wavering of
east, west, east west.... north, south...
what now?!
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
Black Girl
Black is beautiful shouldn't be anything new to you I know TV's confusing you but you need to just think it through, lightskin dark skin every shade of sister in between you're all beautiful women playing for the same team. Your hair is perfect ***** natural and curly blonde hair and blue eyes don't make you anymore girly. Enough with TV's fraud me and my squad out here looking for our very own Felicia Rashad. Shout out to Disney for making a black princess who didn't rep our women at all. I'm just looking for Nefertiti an African Queen a woman who's skin is like coffee love like caffeine who's mind is sharp and focused on that green but does it all for the family her day one team dog that's my dream, a women who cooks like like my grand mama and hustles harder than than Mrs. Obama. Black butterfly your skies the limit lift your spirit against the malicious avaricious ignorance. The world is spiteful and stupid you're all beautiful that's can't be disputed, be proud of your eyes and hair be proud every morning you wake up and take a breath of fresh air be proud for every test you ace be proud of that beautiful skin stretched over that beautiful face.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Used to be stuck,
so firmly rooted.
Like the ugly duck
had to be re-routed.
Fearfully and unluck,
my soul was muted.
Until to me struck,
and for once, all I disputed.
Can't do what's right
so I'll do what's left.
I'll follow this light
until my soul I put to rest.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 8:55 AM UTC
the driftwood fits perfectly in my palm
I unspool the seaweed from its taper
furling it about my finger
my marriage to the sea was disputed
with a tiny crab that day
gentle tug-o-war with my heart
and my eruptive roar
echoing his staunch request
to keep his algae blanket - and home
the equivalent of a cardboard box in childhood
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
The Fool
The grass bows in respect as he passes,
A fool so very unruly,
Spits vengeful passion,
Sets the bowing grass on fire,
Destroying nature with his smile,
Raucous,
Lashing feelings,
Eyelashes flutter in mortified shame,
Curling of their own accord,
In harmony of discord!
Disputed by speech in truth!
Love songs live ,
Castigated fool,
This lyricist,
Chastised for lack of care,
Beaten down,
Darkened magic mind,
Riling by inspiring,
Cauldron bubbles,
Images evaporate,
Eternal gossamer magic,
This fool's a clever fool!
He is such unruly fool,
Will never admit it,
Uncool fool,
Will stand in attendance,
To whims and things,
Main retorts in nonchalance!
Founded in chalice,
Full,
This fool,
Well,
He's no village idiot!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
*what a love you speak of in sonnet
and in the battle of the Somme!
no wonder Shakespeare is disputed!
only among actor and not poet the two should care.*
free floating lizard akin to the pickle
serpent worth of spine,
she's there, attired in the sun, a biblical
woman hardly a name worth remembering,
why? because she's all *****
and you're all... well... ending up laughing
long after the F.A. cup result is in
and she's lost her daydream...
ooh... 2 nil... i too was into the Faroe Islands
rather than into Craggy Island of: *'drink! drink!
dingy Titanic twin tuck 'n' sunk lucky bet!*
no, really, i was reading an article and started
to laugh... some ***** with a Stephen Hawking
jpeg., i goo my hashish high with porridge...
she said Ibiza was fine with hens but not stags...
she mentions shaggy **** with dispensation
& carrier pigeons of philanthropy or abuse that
fostering advice involves... well, cheap jokes
elsewhere, crucifix over here? what fun to suit
comedy!
NONMONOGAMOUS... ? hey! why not try
a zygote relationship! if trans or bi or hetero
or **** doesn't work? all men around seem
to say the same: i'm not ready for this arson of talk
with a woman tongue replacing both bullet and rifle,
tank, cannon and an arab ******* on holiday...
give me extinction... i'd listen to the lizard man
that hear of mammalian love, that's as much cold
blood with the lizards as i had to learn with keeping
things i worked for being jealous:
it seems it was easier to keep a thief that way than a dog.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
wooing/seducing: the where of the first kiss always
~for Robin Carretti, who loved it best~
‘tis true my battlefield tactical brought me
many victories
when that was fool-desired
no chain mail, walled armaments, arms crossing,
all failed
to the single softest siege engine in my possession
and the passing passionately poems read
back ‘n forth, non-negotiable demands,
vicious but viscous
red lines,
day remainders of the contusions of night's angry passions
and the
disputed but muted disparities of both
nothing, no, never broke the spell of:
the first kiss, always upon the neck
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
Intertwined within us are our souls desires
We've become thoughtless consumers
Our eyes have overtaken our hearts
Countless evocation and solicitation cravings
What's the true essence of life
We must credit ourselves with a virtue of constraint
Consciously aware of the folly of greed
Competing for the consent of the masses
Continually corrupts our untainted soul
For without a soul what's the essence of life
Desire for credit has circumnavigated our default setting
Considerably actively commandeering our human condition
We've become complicit in this annihilation of what we hold dear
Our individuality disputed and tarnished
Lives crushed beyond recognition
The wide-ranging impact calamitous
What's the true essence of life
Thine benefits are transient
Yet the impact will leave an indelible mark
Preceding generations trod carefully
Afraid not to let the mud stick
We've been tainted by horrors
Yet we chose to flirt precariously with its allure
It's experience is of a blissful kind
It is however prudent to navigate cautiosly
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
I am an honorific supposition
Relieving vowed perdition
Of narrow corridors
Sedition pounded
Flounders madly
Seeking loudly
A righteous chore
While resolving disputed dignity,
I know eight faces:
Soft Admiration
Rowdy Persuasion
Mighty Resolution
Orphaned Confusion
Delighted Fixation
Grand Separation
Sly Rumination
and a frequent categorical shuffling intellect
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
She was an old Mid-western woman.
She was a distinct type.
A stock-staple character,
Sort of half Beverly Hillbillies Granny,
Throw in a skosh Betty White,
Mixed in with a lot of that old lady
In Driving Miss Daisy.
Southern Indiana:
The Confederacy’s best kept secret.
But I digress.
She was my neighbor in Buckeye, Arizona,
A quaint agrarian township, way out
At the west end of Maricopa County, which is
An hour from the Phoenix airport, the so-called
Sky Harbor International Airport,
Which surely must be near the list’s top:
All-time most pretentious,
Hyperbolic Chamber of Commerce,
Municipal Boosterisms.
Wikipedia English - The Free Encyclopedia
Boosterism: the act of "boosting" (or promoting) a town, city, or organization, with the goal of improving public perception of it. Boosting can be as simple as "talking up" the entity at a party or as elaborate as establishing a visitors' bureau. It has been somewhat associated with American small towns. Boosting is also done in political settings, especially in regard to disputed policies or controversial events.
So, without thinking,
Walking down the driveway
To pick up the morning paper,
I let it slip:
“How are you?”
She’s leaning over the hedge,
As I bend down,
Picking up the local Pravda.
35 minutes later she sums up:
“I had to go to the doctor last night.
Gave me some cream for my pud.”
A twinkle in her eye—
She, my lascivious,
Old lady neighbor
In Buckeye, Arizona.
She had that sweet Mid-western thing
Working for her, her regional mojo.
And I’m right there on her wavelength:
The apple not falling far from my tree,
Or something like that . . .
I am losing my train of thought, here.
Last poem of the day, I guess.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Muted.
Tongue tied.
That was a clear fact, couldn't be disputed.
To make her voice heard. Countless times she'd tried.
So from now on, a new tactic she has applied.
Head hung low, as she walks in silent stride.
Emotional shutdown: access denied.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
Forget laws.
They are but social expedients.
Take, for example,
PLESSY v. FERGUSON,
the 1896 landmark decision
of the Supreme Court
that made "separate but equal"
the law of land and ushered
in the patently ugly and unjust
JIM CROW laws in the Deep South.
It took until 1954--58 years--to right
this egregious ruling with the unanimous
decision of BROWN v. BOARD OF EDUCATION.
Forget laws.
Always go to your heart
to find the moral--the correct--decision
of all disputed matters. Laws can be flagitious,
but in your heart, you will always find truth.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 10:56 AM UTC
Did he live dangerously as he believed? You decide.
A wish he cherished inanely for long
Did him in or liberated from fear once and for all
His date with the camouflaged piranha
He coveted much, was an unqualified success
He repeatedly said, though none disputed it.
An ace strategist, he thought of himself
Aware of all the wily tactics the fish practices
It all started with the tickling pleasurable nibbles
But when the blood started flowing the fangs were out
Nature's invisible sensors respond to the situation precisely.
Look!
Hopeful vultures circling above slyly observing
His each faltering step is alacritous, turned hostile,
"Walking skeleton, buddy, fly back.No scope for us
Crumbling little by little.Let it ride, bad luck"
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
Is it wrong to be scared to have children?
Of raising them on this bitter, bloodthirsty planet?
Where their voices will be muted,
and “more important” matters disputed,
so they'll feel useless, irrelevant, or null.
I am truly terrified to have children,
who will be reduced to simplicity by this world.
Though individuality may come in flashes,
anything colourful will be burned to ashes,
And the sparks of identity lost.
But then I remember they'd be my children,
So their voices would surely be heard.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 11:07 PM UTC
it's 8:19 pm on a friday night
and i'm inside wondering about everything not human
i wonder if butterflies have social calendars
and if any of them are ever left out by their counterparts
or if blades of grass have issues with their parents
and if their father tells them they better straighten up
or else they'll be cut to bits by the lawn mower
or perhaps if the moon has anxiety
over all the little things it illuminates
during the dark hours of the night
maybe the tide feels uneasy
washing away shattered dreams
and long forgotten kisses
that have been shared upon its shores
i wonder if bumblebees really care about anything
other than collecting pollen
or if all they really want
is to come home and let their wings rest
for maybe just a minute
maybe birds care for more than just their children
and finding food and shelter for the day
i wonder if they ever have disputed with each other
or ever look down upon us humans
and wonder why we're leading lives
we don't want to lead
you see i wonder if everything on this earth
that's not a human being
wonders about us
about why we care so much
and perhaps why we care too little
i wonder if they notice the pain that emanates from our hearts
i wonder if they can feel the slow drag in our step
i wonder if they know
that we would rather be anything
other than ourselves
i wonder
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
Little is known and less is appreciated about the geographic, strategic and political significance of the Spratley and Paracel Islands situated midway across the South China Sea.
Disputed historically for ownership by Malaysia, Vietnam the Phillipines and China, amongst others, the islands are situated strategically across the major commercial sea lanes of the region and atop an ocean of vast, submarine deposits of untapped fossil oil.
China has used her muscle to occupy and claim these islands, together with unspecified, adjacent sea way area. She has claimed them as sovereign territory of the People’s Republic of China. Until this occupation the islands have been largely unpopulated and have had little or no military significance. Recently, however, Chinese constructors have been ruthlessly dredging the surrounding coral reef and building a 3000m long concrete runway for military purposes on the hugely expanded artificial island area created.
Chinese troops, in divisional strength, occupy and defend the new territory.
It is significant that all parties in the region are watching China and gauging her intentions. None less so than the United States Navy who have an aircraft carrier and supporting military vessels, stationed permanently nearby and conduct over flights of the island airspace testing sovereignty and Chinese reaction.
To date reaction has been muted….but this will definitely change.
China is frantically building to be the world’s next superpower, economically, industrially, politically and militarily.
...And, as this development comes to fruition in the very near future, it is inevitable that this distant, remote set of South China Sea islands shall become the next global hot point of international confrontation.
China and the United States of America will go eyeball to eyeball, bristling with hostility, resolute and immovable, each waiting for the other to blink!
…..and we, the rest of the world, shall, again, tremble in our boots, breathlessly awaiting the outcome.
Marshalg
22 May 2015
AUCKLAND.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 7:50 PM UTC
I write words
which are guilty by association
a biased vanity
a weakened proclamation
a rhyming confession
vaguely detailed obsession
which preys upon my idle mind
occupying my excess time
if I could just
relish
this coffee scented existence
like Marley I won't wait in vain
my character was built
on inconsistent persistence
with all of my offenses
its no wonder you present such resistance
hesitance for an obvious reference
midnite will arrive on its own terms
may it come in waves
I'm emotionless and starved
hoping for the best and the rest is reality
its a stoic majestic bleak perspective
resplendence can't be bought with a sixpence
when innocence is subjective
acutely disputed and often refuted
everybody is down on their knees
echoes throughout empty halls
empty hearts exposed to loosely associated truths
and poorly conceived metaphors
a malcontent in mismatched boots
equally disinterested with
the feelings and good intentions
or any other invention of idle minds
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 11:21 AM UTC
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"...go to hell, purloiners!
you breached my trust...my privacy,
both, are sacred to me...
what about you?
...is anything at all sacred to you?"
:::
:::::
:::::::
It's been
three days and more,
of crossing fears...thinking,
how easily......and suddenly...
one's precious worded gems,
could be exposed to strangers' eyes...
to think that private thoughts can
no longer be private, is infuriating...
how does one deal with violated privacy?
i'm ailing...while drowning in dim streams
.....all assurances, now disputed
all negative possibilities considered
i'm paranoid...the devil is winning...
the stomach sympathizes
with a disconcerted mind
growling its discontent
creating deleterious acids...
mad, upsetting hours stay for a while
holes must be mended or patched...
what was disorganized ...must be straightened
got to start from scratch
these past evenings, i trod
through hot valleys bright with fire
burning with anger and disgust
...for, i felt betrayed,
never have i been this way before,
.....i must go back to the water.....
slowly............i wait,
'til i can look past those trees,
those walls....those worlds outside, and
from them, create a swinging hammock
tied on two coconut trees~~~then
feel a mist from a not so far clear, blue ocean
feel the breeze whisper its magic spell
to cool and melt the fires within
be at peace with everyone
with everything...
i must take hold of that space
where i'll float...and i'll forget
where i'll toy with the ripples
and be overcome
with
~~~~moments of zen~~~
Sally
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
Pride smiles while Envy laughs.
Subsides but does not last.
Contentment worthwhile.
Broken hearts shatter in half.
Misery mourns, crys, & dies.
Sobs our eyes rob.
Love his heart steals.
A fantasy is not real.
The date's last meal.
Uttering regretful words.
Believed & understood.
Undoubted & muted.
Disagreed & disputed.
Lies to confuse & offend.
No compassion or friends.
Disgusted & untrusted.
Abused & defiled.
Deceived & unstyled.
Ignored & not worthwhile.
Uncredited, feared, hated,
unsettled, ungeared, & debated.
Unpatience has waited.
Prostitutes will go anywhere, with anyone, at anytime, & do anything.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved,
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 1:58 AM UTC
Poor, broken-hearted Abel Spleen
Beneath a streetlight casts a shadow.
He'd hoped to find a sunny, green
Elysian meadow.
Barely a man, at sweet sixteen
He's gone where none who love him can follow.
He drank his cup of bitter teen
In one large swallow.
Where he has gone,—to what demesne,—
(If we in life are ever rooted),
Is all conjecture very mean,
And much disputed.
He's gone, and yet he still is seen
Suffering love's disdain and panging:
Poor, broken-hearted Abel Spleen
Is dead weight hanging.
O.O
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC