"enquire" poems
Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both
parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard
Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps
you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house
Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down
on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity
i hate you
285.4k
Gaze on that woman by the train.
With curves like gunpowder
that will shoot fireworks again.
As her and I once were.
Since then, of women, I've abstained.
My chest is a pyre
to the damsel I couldn't retain;
fondness that won’t expire.
You say I could never attain
and imply I'm a liar!?
Or you think either me insane
or least she's miswired?
The evidence on my brain -
melancholy, ire -
the despondent husk that remains,
need you more enquire?
...True, of her, no displays of pain;
eyes that jolt not tire,
poker voice tipping no disdain,
legs that feed desire!
For her, gone love is not a chain
hidden by attire
or flushed down a forgotten drain.
It merely retired.
Love like hers was the wind and rain
to my earth and fire.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
"PUT off that mask of burning gold
With emerald eyes."
"O no, my dear, you make so bold
To find if hearts be wild and wise,
And yet not cold."
"I would but find what's there to find,
Love or deceit."
"It was the mask engaged your mind,
And after set your heart to beat,
Not what's behind."
"But lest you are my enemy,
I must enquire."
"O no, my dear, let all that be;
What matter, so there is but fire
In you, in me?"
22.1k
You've asked me what the lobster is weaving there with
his golden feet?
I reply, the ocean knows this.
You say, what is the ascidia waiting for in its transparent
bell? What is it waiting for?
I tell you it is waiting for time, like you.
You ask me whom the Macrocystis alga hugs in its arms?
Study, study it, at a certain hour, in a certain sea I know.
You question me about the wicked tusk of the narwhal,
and I reply by describing
how the sea unicorn with the harpoon in it dies.
You enquire about the kingfisher's feathers,
which tremble in the pure springs of the southern tides?
Or you've found in the cards a new question touching on
the crystal architecture
of the sea anemone, and you'll deal that to me now?
You want to understand the electric nature of the ocean
spines?
The armored stalactite that breaks as it walks?
The hook of the angler fish, the music stretched out
in the deep places like a thread in the water?
I want to tell you the ocean knows this, that life in its
jewel boxes
is endless as the sand, impossible to count, pure,
and among the blood-colored grapes time has made the
petal
hard and shiny, made the jellyfish full of light
and untied its knot, letting its musical threads fall
from a horn of plenty made of infinite mother-of-pearl.
I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on ahead
of human eyes, dead in those darknesses,
of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudes
on the timid globe of an orange.
I walked around as you do, investigating
the endless star,
and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked,
the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind.
20.9k
Note nothing of why or how, enquire
no deeper than you need
into what set these veins on fire,
note simply that they bleed.
Spain fought before and fights again,
better no question why;
note churches burned and popes in pain
but not the men who die.
5.3k
All I am asking you for
is a hint to your metaphors,
What's written on the papers you tore,
'Cause I always seem to want more
All of them, even neithers and nors.
Another thing I want to enquire,
If you're in a place that's oh so dire,
and need a shrink who's free to hire,
Any work I have, meh, I will retire!
To spur you on, all humour & satire.
If you give me but a glimpse into your world,
Cross my heart I'll show you mine unfurled.
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC
I guess we’ve all met the kind
who unwind at the bar
after travelling far.
Their journeys by car
are of time and of space,
but their faces reveal
that the distance they feel
is not one of miles;
it’s rather the smiles
of separation from self
which light up their eyes
with whys that inspire
a wish to enquire
Where are they from?
Where are they bound?
What have they found?
Could it be,
that like me,
they are lost?
© James Rainsford 2010
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 6:04 AM UTC
This is about my beloved physiotherapist.
He tried his best to help me recover quick.
And today the initial period is reminiscent.
Dr. Amrinder Singh Kaler,
My generous physiotherapist,
Has a rather rare surname.
I used to enquire his name,
As I was extremely curious,
Much like a kid I had been.
Brain injury took heavy toll,
Severely quick memory loss,
At times I used to forget it all.
All day long I was apprehensive & confused,
Scared I remained thinking of physical pain,
I would ask them if someone would come.
I would ask him his name during therapy,
My memory was extremely short & poor,
I slowly learnt his first & second names.
But I would still ask him his surname,
I was not be told straight away by him,
He told me to strain my mind & guess it.
To tell him his own name was not easy,
Especially when I was so much in pain,
It was so much difficult for me to tell it.
But after few months' passage,
It didn't pain much to exercise,
As much as when I was worse.
I found it difficult to recall his surname,
I did say several Sikh surnames to him,
I would say all surnames but his own.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
It was considered expedient
To change the unit of measure
To change scale,
To make redundant all
That could be wasted,
Naturally.
Internal communications
Will contrive suitable verbs
To conceal the brutality of profit
To provide surety as required
To the senior management team
As for the rest:
To those whose insecurities
Are relied upon, whose
Middles have expanded, aged
Receded, human resources
Will issue notice of packages
And opportunities of relocation.
The restructure will require
The recruitment of some
Of the hungry young;
Fresh graduates on the newly
Introduced basic scales.
What of your work you enquire?
Those value added strategies
Of differentiation
Of corporate responsibilities,
Family friendly policies?
In this age of austerity
Such approaches, old man,
Are as relevant as a hard drive,
Or hard copy, this is a cloud
Sourced post-crunch
Twitterverse we inhabit,
This is a time for new prospects
This is cloud cuckoo land.
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 3:06 AM UTC
Once upon a dainty hill
sat old castle of a young king
not busied by ***** thrills
but in the realm, fair Muse did sing
sorry as such
to trouble you sire
but farmer, lady and great squire
are, unto you, to enquire
how it is the sun makes such fire
to this the young king
furrowed his brow
and scratched his chin
and pondered how
eight days did pass
and woe betide
the pressing question
found no bride
the elders of the castle old
let fairy tales of disorder unfold
a great dragon they say
lit the sun
after finding itself lost
and on the run
from a shadow giant
of world unseen
but the tales of course
were all but dreams.
A little voice
filled the air
with light and weightless
soulful flair
a blacksmith's girl
of simple dress
excuse me sir
i must confess
this minor stir
has caused me stress
the young king bade her speak
and with that, the child weak
stood atop a wonky box
with certain eyes and wavy locks
dear people
i now must say
that it is on this cold and fateful day
my mind has led to such dismay
as I have learned to trust none of you.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
Lamentation; infelicity through neurotransmitters
Passing fleetly; swift but disturbed
Grids of brainwaves for the degraded
Overhead LED view is negroided
Chapter 1 Migraines;
A klaxon that grains into migraine
From there on out, strolling convulsion lane
Deriving from deception; antibodies start to lead loosely
Throe after throe I choose not to fuss
Laceration in hemikrania is conversing with the rest of my body,
Frequent as days turn nightly
I host the severe megrimly
Chapter 2 Vomiting;
A horendous bile builds up in my throat
Moaning like a ghoul; I banish the gloats
Disgorging from nothing, Heaving and heaving the dry
Although I force myself not, all the nosh turns into emit rye
Vital fluid very crimson soon came
From the cranium, I dislose, head pain
Frequent as the waves harsh blows
I host a ***** hose
Chapter 3 Tumor;
A neoplasm underneath I've found out
Unvisible but there; my flesh will start swelling undoubt
Below I feel like a mutant
All putant and disformed
Like globular liquids dripping from sewage waste
As long as I can still haste
Crescendo and surge won't ado
Frequent as traffic builds a rush hour
I host a cyst that is sour
Chapter 4 Deaf;
An absense of all frequencies
I daze everso daily;
Feeling like an earless statue; sound unaccompanied
Missing the wind's howls that ululate,
Clamors and bellows that spoliate
I can't sight the same verbiage
Without sonancy to inflicit, I see one big mirage
Frequent as birth enfolds
I host a soundless toll
Chapter 5 Brain Cancer;
A malignant fate told today
Disease spreading like a machine,
Programmed to enquire all it knows
A gruesome and hateful dose;
Withering casually away
Grown apart of, I'm the prey
As we hunt the beasts'
An invisible naked eye is poaching
Frequent as a house infested
I host a cancerous clothing
Chapter 6 Death;
A termination soon to unfold
I am as finished and ruined as story told
Biological function ending
Senescence through spending
User maat I haven't seen all wanted
Alas I am greatful for what has been daunted
Frequent as a death anew
I host a dissolution
My evolution; through.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
Who can say for sure as to what came first: the seed or the tree?
If the seed came first where did it come from if not from the tree?
But then if the tree came first where did it come from except from a seed!
So then you'll have to re-ask again that question of the origin of the seed.
An endless circle with no logical conclusion soon appears
until one looks beyond the seed and the tree that it bears.
Although the seed comes from the tree and the tree from the seed
each one grows in the ground of mother Earth which both does feed.
The Earth is the womb of everything living and supports all we know
and then becomes the tomb back into which all forms one day must go.
The underlying essence of all nature is of consciousness-energy-intelligence
that includes and sustains all things despite our ever incessant belligerence.
Has anyone ever heard it said that God is in the form of the world
and so all within it carries a divine spark from which it has swirled.
God is the infinite eternal seed of all existence and can be experienced like this:
usually as an overwhelming love within us and as all power, knowledge and bliss.
So the seed and tree came from the Earth which itself has come from and exists in God
and to enquire where God has come from is useless if we haven't transcended this sod.
The limited mind of man has to merge into that unlimited universal mind of the Creator
only then can we know the original cause or final end of everything and of their Maker.
Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 10:13 AM UTC
I
A speckled cat and a tame hare
Eat at my hearthstone
And sleep there;
And both look up to me alone
For learning and defence
As I look up to Providence.
I start out of my sleep to think
Some day I may forget
Their food and drink;
Or, the house door left unshut,
The hare may run till it's found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
I bear a burden that might well try
Men that do all by rule,
And what can I
That am a wandering-witted fool
But pray to God that He ease
My great responsibilities?
II
I slept on my three-legged stool by the fire.
The speckled cat slept on my knee;
We never thought to enquire
Where the brown hare might be,
And whether the door were shut.
Who knows how she drank the wind
Stretched up on two legs from the mat,
Before she had settled her mind
To drum with her heel and to leap?
Had I but awakened from sleep
And called her name, she had heard.
It may be, and had not stirred,
That now, it may be, has found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
1.5k
Look at the sky, this can't be true,
The waves of passion splashing bright hue;
Wetting the world with sweet vapours, an aura so new,
Am I in the cradle of heaven? I have no clue.
I fear my churning emotions, vulnerable and timid,
Slumber is now a traitor under my closed eyelid;
Shhh … those are whispers of Aphrodite and Cupid,
Silencing all my doubts,”is it a sin I did?”
Never before have I fought a battle so sweet,
Arrows struck, heart swelled with its heat;
I surrender; in this war I gladly accept defeat,
Laying all my weapons at your feet.
I was a delicate glass, being filled with the royal wine,
Careful not to spill an ounce, even under the stress of a tine;
Could I enquire, such addictive taste exists in whose vine?
A magic which could make nectar out of nicotine.
How could a slight gaze invoke such mountains of desire?
Veins which never existed now tingle with fire;
In resonance to your presence, my senses change attire,
I can’t find my heart. Did you steal, borrow or hire?
Roars of celebration, as clarity weds confusion,
Heart and mind continue to exist as characters of fiction;
Is it LOVEocracy or LOVEarchy ? Hold election,
How have I been conquered? I need depiction.
The pixels of sanity escape, leaving behind tender pores,
How do I fill these? I spot only a single recourse;
To inhale the oxygen of happiness, I have none but a single source,
Who can squeeze, topple, and bounce my heart, without a trace of force.
I would reform from a flower to a drooling leaf,
Am lustrous and luminous only under your ownership, you thief!
You wouldn’t depart from this sack of gold is my belief,
I would always possess a memory of our time is my relief…
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC
I
A SPECKLED cat and a tame hare
Eat at my hearthstone
And sleep there;
And both look up to me alone
For learning and defence
As I look up to providence.
I start out of my sleep to think
Some day I may forget
Their food and drink;
Or, the house door left unshut,
The hare may run till it's found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
I bear a burden that might well try
Men that do all by rule,
And what can I
That am a wandering-witted fool
But pray to God that He ease
My great responsibilities?
I slept on my three-legged stool by thc fire.
The speckled cat slept on my knee;
We never thought to enquire
Where the brown hare might be,
And whether the door were shut.
Who knows how she drank the wind
Stretched up on two legs from the mat,
Before she had settled her mind
To drum with her heel and to leap?
Had I but awakened from sleep
And called her name, she had heard.
It may be, and had not stirred,
That now, it may be, has found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
ANOTHER SONG OF A FOOL
THIS great purple butterfly,
In the prison of my hands,
Has a learning in his eye
Not a poor fool understands.
Once he lived a schoolmaster
With a stark, denying look;
A string of scholars went in fear
Of his great birch and his great book.
Like the clangour of a bell,
Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet.
That is how he learnt so well
To take the roses for his meat.
1.4k
‘Are you a boy or a girl?’
They shout down the corridor in a chorus behind me
Like the cries of “Good morning, Miss” in assembly
The patronising tone
in sleep deprived confusion
Droning throughout the halls
ringing around ‘she’.
Going to lessons is the scariest thing
Head down, walking fast hoping
they’ll never say anything
Hoping no one will question you
Glance around and notice you
not daring to look up
in case you make a wrong move.
You can’t know what it’s like to be
in a room all alone,
in a house that is not your own;
'Your body is a temple’ they said.
But they don’t tell you how to treat it
if it’s right in your head
but wrong in your skin,
and that feeling
of being and existing
is like dealing
with a thousand anxieties
suffocating within;
Chest too obvious
voice too loud and feminine
not enough to be ‘gentleman’.
'Why does this bother you?'
I hear you enquire,
it's because society’s construct
of gender is too based on attire,
an old fashioned concept-
Telling your children
that 'blue's for boys'
'pink's for girls'.
'Is it really?' I say.
Gender is not just binary
it fluxes and changes,
just like any scientific theory;
Einstein for instance,
didn’t come up with special relativity
in a night!
It took years of work
until he was right
Let this apply for gender too:
not just black
and white it's not as
clear cut as that
this is black and this is white
Evolve the theory
from system to spectrum
of freedom and pride
to reside in one's body happily:
Humanity allied.
This is what I dream about,
but it is not what
I've been living throughout,
in our world of shame;
where we are reduced to words and themes.
Driving my community,
those who love and support me,
to thoughts of suicide.
Being known
only when they're reduced
to rags and bones,
dead bodies
hanging
from their hashtags
thrown in the corner
another into the pile of disorder...
But people think it’s okay
to come up to you
abuse you in the street.
Knocked to your knees
to cries of 'queer'-
you end up living in fear-
'well, what do you expect given
who's watching Wall Street?'
Yet I stand here
talking to you
a queer boy-
with all connotations of the word-
a queer boy with a voice.
Look at me!
My chest,
My unbroken voice,
My broken mind.
I am not proud of what I am,
what I’ve become and
how much it hurts
is indescribable to you.
I am not what you want me to be.
I am a man.
Not trans.
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 12:24 PM UTC
Life changing
the Blitz bomb
took my sight
and my legs.
Clive gone too
at Dunkirk.
I recall
our last kiss
as the train
left London.
I sit in
this darkness.
Hospital
smells around
and voice sounds.
Morning Grace
a voice says.
My blind eyes
turn around
to the sound.
Who is it?
I enquire.
Doctor Clay
I have come
to see you
and see how
your stumps are
the voice says.
They're painful
I tell him.
Nurse we need
Grace to be
lying down.
Between them
they lift me
on the bed.
Fingers lift
my nightdress
and unwrap
bandages.
Fresh air hits
the leg stumps.
His fingers
examine
what is left
of my legs.
They're healing
very well
he tells me.
Soon we will
have someone
sort you out
for new legs
he informs.
I thank him.
He goes off
and the nurse
(small fingered)
now attends
to some fresh
bandages.
As her fingers
touch my thighs
I recall
Clive touching
me there too
that last time
before he left
for the War.
I stare out
into dark
cold spaces
and a far
away shore.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
Romantic moonlight edges over the mighty cupola;
I stroll enchanted by the timeless beauty of St Peter's Square;
I casually enquire of a passing nun whether she would consider
Going down on me behind the marble columns.
After a brief but heated haggle over the price
(I hitherto thought nuns were generous sisters of mercy)
She gobbles me professionally but rather noisily
Causing me to leave a generous donation on her dental plate.
I hear a half-strangled cry of "Bejasus" from a passing Paddy priest
As he gives himself a quick one off the wrist
Into his already badly stained cassock
Before hurrying off to keep a hot date with a choirboy.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
Part I -You are my top drawer man
Well I have to confess, my life has turned out quite nice to be fair.
Don’t think for one minute that I am not deeply thankful; do you think I don’t care?
There’s money in the bank and look even a new convertible outside
Zero Percent how could I resist, you would do it too if you could just feel the ride
The mortgage is all paid, so the money that’s left, it is all mine
My poor dad he worked so hard, he did lots of overtime
He held down two jobs just to make end
s meet,
And then they left and they left it all for me to spend
Bless
So I’m determined, the way they scrimped, I will not do the same
I won’t squander my life for that would be such a shame
So tonight I'm off, heading once more to one of those exotic places
Places where mankind has so far left very few traces
When one day I lie on my deathbed, Wracked by Disease and Succumbing to Pain
I will remember all those places and how I wish I could go there again
Nowhere will be where I haven’t been
On this earth there will be no wonderful sight that I have not seen
I am going now, I must get my flight
It’s the jet setters life for me, oh my what a delight,
But I just have to go and you knew this time would come, so no reason for tears
Promise to stay faithful and allay all my fears
You are the only man for me, and when I get back you and I can love again
You are my dream man and my life without you would be such a pain
You know how much I love painting the town red
We could do dinners and theatres, wine tastings and afterwards to bed
When we go out for a drink, as always you can drive
and as for me, well I will be alongside
Oh bear in mind, cash will be tight, these trips cost the earth you know
There won’t be much spare, so maybe we could just catch a late night TV show
Oh darling you definitely have a place in my life of that you can be glad
But there are things I must do and places I must go so please you mustn’t be sad
I know a man, he will come along, and luckily he lives in a drawer just below yours
I intend to open it before I head off and out he will come crawling on all fours,
I know it’s awkward but you will just have to get back inside
I won’t be gone long and when I come back you can pop out and come for a ride.
Oh and when you come over, you can put balm on my back
And afterwards who knows, you and me could even end up in the sack
What an odd question “Are you left or right handed” gosh indeed why do you enquire?
Well how should I know, I haven’t been watching and to respond to silliness I lack all desire
After all I don’t think you and I have been together for very long
Six years in June or was it April and oh my your love for me it is still so strong.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
you cannot stop staring
(he's only your mate)
-yes i've noticed the way
you've been looking of late-
like you want to enquire if
i'm at all aware
of the way the sun looks
in the threads of his hair,
like you're guilty and
he's taken you by surprise,
like the world's pushed you
forwards and
opened your eyes,
like you're scared of the
truth and you're scared of the
rest, and you're thinking that maybe
it's only a test.
but the fact that it's not is as
clear as cut glass (*well tell that
to the woman who says it'll pass*)
i watch your eyes watch him-
and you look at me- like you're
wondering whether i know
what you see.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
Across the air rang like a choir,
Screaming out, "please ceasefire!"
My enemies my death conspire,
Hunting as with wolflike desire,
Each soul appears not but a liar,
Flesh torn, ripped on barbed wire,
Lust a blood like burning fire,
Swept away with ashes prior,
Kindling under darkest desire,
Shadowed street hunts supplier,
Skeletal corpses crawl to acquire,
Trading of souls given and buyer,
Needing a fix goes higher, higher,
Laced with delusions do transpire,
Beautiful psychosis of thorny brier,
Taken ahold discarded shier,
Memories faded in treaded tire,
Eyes glare don't dare to enquire,
Undoubtedly lost in death retire.
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC
A section of timeline is now over, feel free to adorn the black funeral attire
Enquire why consent is one thing a woman will never need to require
Ever ponder if Lilith and Eve ever wondered if they should conspire together?
Guess it depends on who you believe is the bigger monster, god or Lucifer?
Feel free to submit your answer
©2023
Dec 28, 2023
Dec 28, 2023 at 7:12 PM UTC
Silent tears bewitch my mind
Icy fingers caress my soul
Sickening thoughts consume me
A faint pulse they stole
Evil desires taint my logic
Through my desperate quest
Striving for deluded perfection
A reflection I detest
Golden curls disappear
Tired eyes dominate
Companions nervously enquire
"How much have I ate?"
Obsessions take control
Forgetting about all that I care
Procrastinating with anxiety
What do they think, why do they stare?
Guilty actions and fears dictate
Participating in deeds I regret
All the pain that I caused
Oh how I wish I could forget
So let this be an example
When your bones begin to show
When your hair starts to thin
and your face lacks a youthful glow
It is not worth the pain
It will never be worth the lies
It takes control of your will
Shrinking your withering size
When you see your mother's teats
A gaze of father's sorrow
Just remember one thing
Recovery is as close as tomorrow
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
Forerunner asked
“Can you assess how much water is
there in the mountain and air?”
The aficionado of deconstruction said,
“Yes! It is not complicated;
If you drain everything through a conduit,
It is easy to measure!
So, model it and run the model!”
Forerunner enquire,
“Are you going to build a conduit
as a signifier of your existence?”
The addict of ember to exhibitionism replies
“Display the ability of tools and skill you have,
Put up the silhouette and blown up shadow,
Then wreck up when underway to allegory,
Deconstruct, search and measure!”
Forerunner smile and
Stroll away and murmurs
“Everything relative, go by the way of nature “
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC