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Left Foot Poet Mar 2019
The Fidelity of Transmissions

”Cells, the units of life that compose our bodies, are able to make copies of themselves to help us grow, fight disease and recover from injuries. Cells have built-in mechanisms that maintain
  the fidelity of transmission  
of genetic information from one generation to the next, and to control cell division in a timely manner, allowing our bodies to build or rebuild various tissues.”

~~~
when the poetry cri de cœur grows unbearable ,
sound mystery-science calms his tumbling transcendency

alas, here too, his ears sit up straight when stumbling on a invitation to
“come write,” for hid within the science jargon, oft rests a snipers shot

redirecting the didactic mind back to the
everyman’s land where-poetry cells split,,
commanding him to delve into, visit new brain wrenching vistas
“the fidelity of transmission”
at its macro level, for science is micro-poetry,^
n’est-ce pas

~~~
when you love another
the transmission is a slow pour,
or a radical jarring,
the fidelity extremely extraordinarily variable

the loveliest unpredictable

the sip sip of eyelid kissing adoration,
the irrational irrigation of the no-space-between,
when the television remote disappears in the couch crack,
the screen, complete static, perfect complement, to a rigorous experiment of

the loveliest unpredictable

we manually conjoin fluids in her mouth’s petri dish,
stain the slide for observation,
in full Imax color observe the cells busting and doesy-do’ing over to
a new partner, where bonds of fidelity attach a partnership clause to

the loveliest unpredictable

when a child emerges, the first words are
find that remote, just kidding, first comes a comestible demand,
mother’s milk 98 degree heated,
feed me a white solution to any unanswered cell’s questions, what a

loving predictive predicate

scribble this, ****** that, change a diaper,
while debating whose baby’s assemblage resembles,
overjoyed at the experimental outcome,
proofs of the fidelity of transmission,
the outcome notated, but science demands no bias confirmation,
another test required of tissue rebuilding

the loveliest unpredictable

~~~

^postscript
for is He not laureate greatest poet of all,
developer of the scientific architecture,
inventor of varietal sunsets, moonscapes,
individualized singularity of snowflakes,
love making, gravity and the preprogrammed death
of your own cells,
etcetera etcetera etcetera
all just poetry in motion in fluidity,
ah, fidelity fidelity
fidelity
Sat., March 9, 2019
1479

The Devil—had he fidelity
Would be the best friend—
Because he has ability—
But Devils cannot mend—
Perfidy is the virtue
That would but he resign
The Devil—without question
Were thoroughly divine
Senor Negativo Aug 2012
The destination of a questing flame,
The concealed invincible core.
No longer able to hold back the emotions,
that once the flood has subsided, herald a new future .

Your concealed invincible core
fidelity arrives, bearing trust,
that once accepted, will not end.
Obliterating sadness, magnifying love.

Fidelity has arrived. Take his trust.
It will erase the confusion, you know what you feel.
Let it obliterate your sadness, magnify love, and pleasure.
The wheel of doubt and accusations, stops right here.

You can erase the confusion, you know what you feel.
Fostering love, when you need it more than everything.
The wheel of doubt and accusations, stops right here.
you are destined to rise up to the zenith.

Let me foster love, when you need it more than anything
Don't hold back your emotions.
You are destined to rise up to the zenith,
the questing flame of love, has arrived at your core.
Äŧül Mar 2015
Some might consider me a fool,
But I promise you my fidelity,
Not just till we are married,
Even as we sally forwards,
I stay as true as that sun,
In our joint life I pledge my fidelity,
And I pledge my exclusive faithfulness.
You need not feel the same for me.
This is a selfless promise, my dear.
I will never doubt your integrity.

I know that you might be angry after reading this, but I must be accepting some essential practicalities of life.

Though I feel that you are as sincere as any human beings can get,
I won't ever compare the extents or the natures of our mutual fidelity as I am no alien.

I am a **** sapiens sapiens just like you and we can get married to multiply.

I am sorry that I behave weird often, dictating you to not to talk with some people, and now I will let you experience and experiment with people's ingenuity.

My HP Poem #807
©Atul Kaushal
James Amick Jul 2013
He lives in a time of plague.

The tag team of cholera and dedication killed his father, for all Dr. Juvenal Urbino knows, his father was faithful to both work and love.

The good doctor knew from an early age that his work would be his love, and from a slightly less tender age he discovered that his love of flesh and the body ran deeper than mere science could take him.

He met Fermina Daza in the doorway between clinical curiosity and obsession over her doe’s gait, and as he walked through his heart made room for a new kind of dedication.

He thought his devotion would be equally as precise as his practice.

Fifteen or so years of marriage, between years in Paris they bled together like a Van Gogh after a rainshower, the intricacies of their companionship were jointly held in a contractual cradle, but neither of them felt obligated.

Dr. Urbino was before my time, but my story will know the life of Carlos Mucharraz, Pre-Med major, they both dedicate themselves to their love. I’ve never seen her, but I can imagine Carlos likens her gait to that of a doe. He fawns over her from 17 hours away, for nearly a year.

Like a Texas dust devil, he sends his love through the air to Minneapolis to brighten her phone screen and her day.

They’ve only ever spent time together twice.

I’d like to think of his devotion like a boulder, immovable, but twisters slither across prairies as wicked winds push them towards seas of lust, but I’d like to think his love flew above turbulent skies.

I thought Dr. Urbino as a rock.

He must have thought of his fidelity as a disease. His father died fighting cholera, and Urbino would not let his affliction of faithfulness **** him. He thought himself ill, and the mantra of his practice taught him one thing only: cure.

In a slum of San Juan de la Cienaga, pants around his ankles, holding a mulatto girl’s legs around his waist, he crumbled like stale bread as he plunged himself into infidelity.

This man of granite broke and fragmented, his sin etched a crooked cobweb of fractures into his back, I wonder if the beads of sweat stung his spine, or dulled the pain.

But maybe I should put my faith in dust devils.

Humans may be able to shatter the hardest stone, but no one commands the sky, for it straddles North and South, East and West, Fort Worth and Minneapolis.
I don't ask you to be faithful - you're beautiful, after all -
but just that I be spared the pain of knowing.
I make no stringent demands that you should really be chaste,
but only that you try to cover up.
If a girl can claim to be pure, it's the same as being pure:
it's only admitted vice that makes for scandal.
What madness, to confess by day what's wrapped in night,
and what you've done in secret, openly tell!
The ******, about to bed some Roman off the street
still locks her door first, keeping out the crowd:
will you yourself then make your sins notorious,
accusing and prosecuting your own crime?
Be wise, and learn at least to imitate chaste girls,
and let me believe you're good, though you are not.
Do what you do, but simply deny you ever did:
there's nothing wrong with public modesty.
There is a proper place for looseness: fill it up
with all voluptuousness, and banish shame;
but when you're done there, then put off all playfulness
and leave your indiscretions in your bed.
There, don't be ashamed to lay your gown aside
and press your thigh against a pressing thigh;
there take and give deep kisses with your crimson lips;
let love contrive a thousand ways of passion;
there let delighted words and moans come ceaselessly,
and make the mattress quiver with playful motion.
But put on with your clothes a face that's all discretion,
and let Shame disavow your shocking deeds.
Trick everyone, trick me: leave me in ignorance;
let me enjoy the life of a happy fool.
Why must I see so often notes received - and sent?
Why must I see two imprints on your bed,
or your hair disarrayed much more than sleep could do?
Why must I notice love bites on your neck?
You all but flaunt your indiscretions in my face.
Think of me, if not of your reputation.
I lose my mind, I die, when you confess you've sinned;
I break out in cold sweat from hand to foot;
I love you then, and hate you - in vain, since I must love you;
I wish then I were dead - and you were too!
I won't investigate or check whatever you try
to hide: I will be thankful to be deceived.
But even if I catch you in the very act
and look on your disgrace with my own eyes,
deny that I have seen what I have clearly seen,
and my eyes will agree with what you claim.
You'll win an easy prize from a man who wants to lose,
only remember to say, 'I didn't do it.'
Since you can gain your victory with one short phrase,
win on account of your judge, if not your case.
Translated by Jon Corelis
Paul S Eifert Nov 2012
Rusty nail by rusty nail the floors come down. Floor by floor
the old men of the old town slip away, and leave old shells
like the stone bread of Pompey. We board these windows
and bolt these doors and slate them in the young sun
for the hungry cranes, but I return in the twilight
of going home traffic when five o'clock lets loose blue collars
to fumble through the ruined rooms of time gone by,

I kick through our broken bricks. Their red dust stains
my shoes and wears on my cuffs. A hopeless hearth,
discarded news, a crippled doll with matted hair
and I all share the crumbling of the day, but only I
shall not remain come compline. Neither can I
pack these walls with me. So this is adieu
to former strongholds. To our old fidelity, adieu.

It is not fit to go forth less than brave, for
they built seven cities over Troy, seven worlds
not knowing where they stood so long the first
could not be said to be. The docks of Caesarea sleep
in the sea, and tourists sit for lunch
on the prone pillars
of Jaffa.
obnoxious Jul 2015
His bike was a twilight sky, his eyes were new leaves of spring as sunlight poured through
If it weren't for us the path would've been vacant
Hearty laughter & gentle giggles would be far from the sight
The sea foam tide's beauty would be left unappreciated
I would sit alone people watching, wondering who I identified as in this world as strangers strolled by
He would lay in bed as "12:51" by The Strokes blared aloud
But that's not how the cards played out

I pedaled just behind you as you screamed your favorite lyrics
Released unnecessary angst I suppose
Then our two bikes inhabited a pebble painted beach
We laid facing one another as summer's warm breeze kissed our faces
You'd express with such desire how you saw the world
how you saw the past
how you longed for your future to be
But all that mattered now were the two beach cruisers that somehow linked us together
You sat atop your blue mountain
I hugged my lilac meadow, with you in mind
This euphoria was only transient but felt imperial to me
JJ Hutton Aug 2011
I scattered my wife
in an array of bedside ashtrays.

I wore my shoes out
trying to find a pure form of love.

When love found me,
it arrived late and carried a fee.

The ashes of my former life,
crawled, cradled and spliced.

Until the wife I burned through,
became bright, became beacon.

It didn't hit me until the third month
of "freedom".

I laughed while laying beside Miranda's
milky twin.

As the copy sputtered with barnacle conversation,
I walked free. I walked home.

I felt washed clean in a gleaming sea
of finding the past me.
Side by side, their faces blurred,
The earl and countess lie in stone,
Their proper habits vaguely shown
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,
And that faint hint of the absurd -
The little dogs under their feet.

Such plainness of the pre-baroque
Hardly involves the eye, until
It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still
Clasped empty in the other; and
One sees, with a sharp tender shock,
His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.

They would not think to lie so long.
Such faithfulness in effigy
Was just a detail friends would see:
A sculptor's sweet commissioned grace
Thrown off in helping to prolong
The Latin names around the base.

They would no guess how early in
Their supine stationary voyage
The air would change to soundless damage,
Turn the old tenantry away;
How soon succeeding eyes begin
To look, not read. Rigidly they

Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths
Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light
Each summer thronged the grass. A bright
Litter of birdcalls strewed the same
Bone-littered ground. And up the paths
The endless altered people came,

Washing at their identity.
Now, helpless in the hollow of
An unarmorial age, a trough
Of smoke in slow suspended skeins
Above their scrap of history,
Only an attitude remains:

Time has transfigures them into
Untruth. The stone fidelity
They hardly meant has come to be
Their final blazon, and to prove
Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love.
Tom Spencer May 2019
a door closes
and I hear him

shuffling down the hallway
his wife of sixty-six years

my mother
asleep, almost invisible

beneath the blankets
as fragile as a baby bird

he stops to wind
the grandfather clock

smiles and nods
“I smell that coffee”

ninety years-old
and still "up-and-at-em”

pills to ration
a newspaper to fetch

dishes to put away
meanwhile

back in their room
dreaming

she remembers
everything

standing by his side
she turns to meet his eyes

Tom Spencer © 2019
Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted *****
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's sensual ecstasy.

Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreadful cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but not from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless.
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2012
We know not the times or the gifts that are ours specifically and unequally you see someone at a
Distance walking through a pastoral scene away and down a hill at first by voice recognition you
Know who he is this grandfatherly figure brings a flood of feelings and moods to brush your soul
With the telling of wonder of intimate days and moments you have shared so often you smile as
He naps quietly and then a night comes where for one reason or another you get involved and the
Whole night is used for this activity the next day being Saturday you relax and in the late afternoon
You at first just set for what you think is a moment but the previous night delightfully and pleasantly
Catches up with you sleep affords you this non cumbersome trip of ease and you awaken and it is dark
At first groggy disoriented just like in a dream this logical but off answer is provided then you finally
Figure out what is going on what surprise and pleasure to know you have been ambushed by a slight
Tiredness that robed you in sweet bliss then trimmed it in solace you stir yourself and do minor things
Until it’s the bed time hour but instead of the normal lights out its turn away from the computer shut off
The television **** all the lights but one and then just purposely luxuriate in the soft amber glow it
Provides set the rudder to take you to sweet wonder as you drift to unspoken destinations these are
Truly simple joys where the need to be careful comes in we know even creation and all its splendors are
Fragile a great rush of water with four feet of foam froth and power charges down it has a twin that is
Separated by this mass of rock that rises upwards of fifty feet the water falls over it in a different way
These strings of water that cover the face from one side to the other and they are accompanied with the
Sweetest mist so you have this forked water show on both sides of powerful water all this glory of white
Power rushing then falling and then the center piece contrasted to this sense such power and mass and
The water is shear as it tenderly descends the mist is truly natures kiss the sound is the embrace the
Engulfing privilege we possess and own as humans but this could be harmed and ruined in so many sad
Ways thats why we are extraordinarily careful we want to preserve it for all times as human beings my
Friends we also can by indifference and lack of understating can harm friends that in their own right
Are spiritual streams that come from great spiritual head waters that were pristine and then one greater
Than all of us caused such harm and destruction in the purist place a garden I wrote and posted Fertile
Ground the great mind of Lincoln said in his day and he meant it for all of our history a nation as great as
Ours can and must be sustained yes our armies and navy are a part but in his speech He says if
“Destruction be our lot we must ourselves be its author and finisher as a nation of freemen we must
Must live through all time or die by suicide what constitutes the bulwark of our liberty and
Independence it is not our frowning battlements our bristling sea coasts the guns of our war steamers
Or the strength of our gallant and disciplined army these are not our reliance against the resumption of
Tyranny in our fair land all of them may be turned against our liberties without making us stronger
Or weaker for the struggle our reliance is in the love of liberty which God has planted in our bosoms our
Defense is in the preservation of the spirit that prizes liberty as the heritage of all men in all lands
Everywhere destroy this spirit and you have planted the seeds of despotism around you own doors
Familiarize yourselves with the chains of ******* and you are preparing your own limbs to wear them
Accustomed to trample on the right of those around you you become the fit subjects of the first cunning
Tyrant who rises” sound words of wisdom that benefit all men we can’t release our responsibility and
Expect a continuance of our freedom this is careful part of this piece Thomas Jefferson had this to say “I
Tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just and his justice cannot sleep foe ever” what more
Prized possessions do you own than family and friends but if we deny and ignore our duty to be men
And women of righteousness how can we complain when civil authority in all manners deteriorates it
Can stand on no higher moral ground than we the people ourselves maintain we are the streaming
Waters of good or bad that flows through relationships ungodliness is a reproach to any nation by their
Fruits they will be known like it or not eat sins treats fine but know this the soul that sins it shall surely
Die it is a law an all living and loving father died to make sure no one could be a tyrant over you only
Yourselves hold that power every devil in hell can assault you but never can he claim victory until he
Sees the white flag of righteousness flying and it is saying I surrender my life of freedom bought by the
Pure sacrificial lamb God’s own son you could practically tell he was human they whipped him with a cat
Of nine tales with metal and bone he struggled down the Via Dolorosa each step declared your freedom
The song says He could have called ten thousand angels and it wasn’t nails that held your Savior to that
Cruel cross he had the ability to see everyone of us he knew how bitter and hard life would be if you
Walk it without him He said my burden is light and my yoke is easy it might sound obscure today but it is
Just as real walk beyond his love in disobedience and you will be punished by the god of this world and
Then he will take you to his fiery home as his subject I wrote before you are his greatest trophy he has
You on display in his lair because you are the greatest treasure God has not golden streets
You fist loved me and my brothers and sisters the tears that I cry in private it says this is doing the work
Of the savior increase my tears and sorrow because too many of them are hurting and know not your
Comfort lost in a savage world not any longer their own a usurper took them captive love replaced by
Cruelty is their lot if they could only see your painful longing as you look for them to come home every
Day they would truly break ties to this fallen world and fly to your presence they believe the lie that they
Have it figured out what sadness they are left with and they never have tasted your sweet spirit they
Mistake the boundless love they feel as if it were your spirit of intimacy outward love doesn’t reach
Inner depths satisfying to the point one person who cried stop no more I will die his love is truly deeper
Than the sea even the universe and Carl Sagan a man of science he was an American astronomer
Astrophysicist cosmologist author science popularizer science communicator sounds impressive but the
Reality he had an assistant and she had to be brilliant to a degree to be working with him but she was
More she was a born again Christian many were the years she loved and sought to help him not to just
Love the Cosmos but love the one who made them her persistence was to no avail you can make a god
Of many things even science how tragic he can be a warning guard your heart and you will preserve your
Soul

Going to include Fertile Ground that includes Streaks of Jefferson and Most Hated Twins I put on there
Lincoln said we should read such things

This important if you haven’t read it

Fertile Ground
O thou great Jefferson in whom dwelled the fidelity of a nation of free men.
Thy secretes can be viewed as we watch you live and breathe the life of a grand Virginia planter
When one is a student of nature and observes its subtle lessons becomes its master and ally. The next
Step of going to lead men is reasonable when taken into count the natural gifts that were refined in
Quiet fields and hills in lengthy times of treasured solitude that is not to say there won’t be difficulties
But to a merchandiser of lofty thoughts this is of little consequence. There are issues that must be
Divined through the protracted business of hard arduous study. Man’s soul drifts in and out of the valley
And hills taking unconsciously truths that exist they are everywhere but can be buried in life’s clamor.
To purposely walk across a field with your with your senses open will usher you into a place quiet
Unsettling if you are one who is uneasy in your own thoughts because the vistas will allow your mind to
Extend it to the far reaches ordinary thoughts will jump over conventional restraints and give you
Profound insights Jefferson graduated from this school of higher learning for this very important time
This man of stature arose he flung freedom’s door wide open walked through set down at his desk and
Masterfully penned immortal words, to this day time hasn’t diminished any of their importance or there
Revered excellence this document would go unparalleled in type and execution, in forming the basis for
Human conduct it would forever alter the landscape that that had existed before its grand arrival.
The stinginess of former centuries were at long last over the mind had finally
Liberated the body the willingness to do for one’s self had taken the lead there was no
Turning back, these actions would recommend them as a people. Their credentials intact now they were
Ready for the world stage a new birth of nobility walked into the human condition and it wasn’t
In the least bit hesitant to speak thoughts that had long been silenced.
The trouble today stems from the lack of understanding we have about the truth,
Of what oppression would be unleashed if our form of government would be allowed to be dissolved we
Love the dream but deplore the reality. That this system will only work when we are involved. It has a
Built in detection device, you can’t use its rewards without paying it back with service.
The results will be contagious you will be left with a weak sickly government.
The remedy simple everyone has to be its central guardian.
This does not mean that it is weak this was the way it was created it is as strong as you
Are willing to have it know this it will always be dependent on human involvement.
We might not like it but we are making a choice freedom will be loosed or bound by our decision.
The product that we deal with is very supple and ever changeable it becomes whatever form you pour it
Into this is in accordance with its nature it also is a gauge of those that handle its virtues and shows if
You have had reverence or contempt. You will be left with honor or disgrace did you carry forth the gift
Or allow it to waver the children of the next generation are watching.
Streaks of Jefferson
In freedom’s blessed glorified sky through streaks of immortal gold his visage we behold
He looks upon the fields of liberty that he and the founding fathers sowed he sees the
Richness America has become he also beheld her struggles catastrophic wars abroad
And the most painful the one that divided the nation marred it with southern and northern
Blood saw the affable the sad giant Lincoln take the reins of discontent hold them by
Shear will and with uncommon sagacity guided it back in line to fulfill its destiny as the
Powerful fount that would always pour forth waters of freedom for all of earths peoples
Total unconditional acceptance of liberty and all the fruit it bears to establish a
Government like no other this golden grain has waved under bluest skies and brightest
Sun light its rich harvest has gone to darkest prison cells Mandela was sustained by it
For twenty nine years and by its moral purity it fed the lives of those that over threw
Apartied and Mandela finally freed by principals it avows rose from prison clothes
To wear the mantle of president of his country and the honor of the man instilled
Quality that transcended political office Jefferson not to be disrespectful to his progeny
Whispers today’s politicians could do well to look on this African model of good
Stewardship of public trust with that Jefferson faded back into the mist pray that’s
Not the fate of this country
Most hated twins
Who are these two desperate characters revered but feared by all
To make their acutance few will volunteer those who know them well
All can tell by the drawn face and the tears that swell the pool where wisdom has her rule
Achievers welcome them as honored guest they withstood the test now they the richest blest
At mornings first blade of light they strike with all their might they the quickest to fight
Timorous to afraid how many have dwelt by waters undying well only to die unfulfilled
But others tried and they fell the well is to deep its where darkest shadows creep
We will be lost in these new surroundings the familiar there will be water there too
Yes stagnant unmoved guarded for naught its benefit was for the traveler going places
For you it will be your grave marker he talked and talked but venture on never
He said he was the clever one as his countenance slowly turned to stone killed by apathy
Green pastures call to find them in yourself health you will install
Few are they that were meant and born to reside in the same place you must go
If you stay rebuild the common and ordinary your monument then they will admire
Who stood to long and with all intention he gave it only words action was the wonder that was missing
Treading a narrow path in the end if you buried or squandered your talent divine wrath you will face
Cast your seed far and wide how can you not see the need sorrow has them tied
Push back the encircling darkness with the light in your heart that God did endow
Go and answer the door your guides are here I want you to meet two friends Pain and Adversity
Two finer companions you will never know Washington and his men befriended them at Valley Forge Concord, York town. Lincoln met them first at Bull Run Antietam I think he gave a little speech at Gettysburg. One birthed a nation the other saved a divided one.
honor Aug 2013
i met a boy once with bluebells for eyes
a cold blue sparkling in his sockets
a cancer toyed with between his fingers
truth in his want but a false fidelity

manner like a court joker and name fitting of an aristocrat
were you embarrassed of me too
you were so prone to hiding things
i flowered as brightly as you

we spent such short time together
growing at a slow pace
of course i made it a tall tale
cherry lipstick across his face

like an explorer flagging the wonder of a new continent
like a killer especially with blood staining their fingernails
unable to hide their crime and their cruelty
but i guess that was foreshadowing
though you cut my stem, you never saw me wilt
r m b Jan 2016
I know you open doors
even if you don't know
what's on the other side.
I hope
you'll have
the same
faith in me.
Raphael Uzor May 2014
The intermittent, distant rumbling in the skies was suggestive of chronic flatulence. The sun struggled in futility to shine – like a crying child who had been forced to smile. Lightning flashed in quick successions, momentarily throwing brilliant streaks of white light across the room. The angry growl of thunder that followed was enough to send a troop of Howler monkeys scampering for safety.

The lights flickered as though unable to make up their minds to stay or not to. But apparently, the wind had zero tolerance for such petty indecisiveness. And like an enraged, stimulated, demented animal, it gusted through the windows and doors, hauling loose papers, light bulbs in every direction, shattering the bulbs to smithereens, as if to punish them for being so fickle. The lights died.

Thick black blankets eerily stretched across the skies with gusto, menacingly extinguishing whatever was left of the sun’s brilliance. More rumbles and flashes followed in royal herald of the impending storm. And in no time, slick sheets of rain torrentially came pouring down, cascading the roofs to form puddles almost as soon as they hit the ground.

​I looked in horror, fervently praying that whoever God had appointed to build the ark in our time had not diverted the funds. I was trapped in the office, and I knew exactly what this meant…flood, scarcity of buses, hiked transport fares, heavy taffic and very likely, at least one month of blackout.
It would be another three hours of steady downpour before the rain eventually stopped, as gracefully as it had been ushered in.
I picked up my bag, rolled up my trousers in earnest anticipation of the inevitable flood, and made my way home.

​To my utter bewilderment, there were no floods! The lights from the street lamps cast a soft golden glow on the slick roads, seemingly creating mirages of pools of water from afar off. But they were mere illusions. The gurgling sound coming from the underground drainage was proof of where all the water had gone. It was a strange sight. Like some alien cyborg from space had been fiddling with a time machine that had accidentally propelled us twenty years into the future.

My new world was a three-fold utopian dream. So surreal!
I could see beautiful, high-rise, state of the art edifices with mind-blowing architectural designs that blatantly seemed to defy the laws of gravity. I could see world-class hospitals that admitted ailing dignitaries from around the world and top-notch schools that offered scholarships to deserving indigenous and international students.
Sure enough, this was Nigeria! The Nigeria we all dreamed of.

And there was light…electricity! - In myriad of colours that seemed to have been dispersed from several colossal disco ***** via *“wireless fidelity”
technology. I strained to hear the noise from generators, but I was disappointed. I couldn’t even hear the all too familiar cacophony of horns blaring, conductors shouting, loud discordant music, rattling vehicle engines etc. It was like everyone and everything had taken a crash course on orderliness.

I saw a vibrant transportation system that included high speed railway lines, paved road networks that looked like a child’s doodles, first-class air strips and efficient sea transportation.
I saw a working government - one that had provided the critical infrastructure for her people.

I saw a nation with a large industrialized economy, where the dividends of democracy had been delivered to the people by their government. One consciously founded on equity and honesty of purpose, and courageously sustained by unfaltering faithfulness and unwavering patriotism.      
A nation whose economic boost did not come solely from crude oil exploration and production, but also from crude oil refining, agriculture, manufacturing, infrastructure, food, services, tourism, automobiles, transportation, education etc.
A nation that thronged with international investors from all walks of life, who were not in the least afraid to invest in her.

And then, I saw her people. A people proud of their citizenship.
A people proud to be called NIGERIANS.
A people who were not given to religious, political, or tribal bigotry.
A people who individually and collectively, gallantly bore the torch of the vision of their heroes past.
A people who earnestly and persistently worked to see only goods “Made in Nigeria” sold in their markets.

Where there was once despair, I saw hope. Where there was once fear, i saw security. Where there was once disgruntlement, I saw satisfaction. Where there was once poverty, I saw wealth opportunities and where there was unemployment, I saw jobs. Death had given way to life and life to hope.

I started, as I felt something cold and wet trickle down my forehead. It was droplets of rain from a leak in the roof just above my head. I was still in my office, I never left. The rain had lulled me to sleep. Even more sadly, I realized it had all been a dream.
Slowly and regretfully, I packed my things and left for home. It was pitch black outside as I carefully waded through the polluted waters, jauntily holding my bag, more because I was afraid to lose it in the flood than in a hopeless bid to dignify the situation.

Two hours later, I crawled into bed. I did not have to turn the lights off…the electric poles had gone for a swim. A very long one.



© ONUGHA EBELE VICTORIA
This is NOT my work, but I found it amazingly share worthy.
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
You dream of love
And fantasy
I cannot any longer
Because of reality
My face is shadowed
By a memory
While yours glows
From your insanity
The insanity of passion
And the sexuality
Imbedded in a promise
Of fidelity
And a lifetime
Of matrimony
Yes I am past that
But I speak honestly
About life
As a casualty
Of love
And adultery
But I need to believe
In love for me only
But if you cannot
Then let me be lonely
An older man talking to a younger woman
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
everything that is eternal
I hold endlessly internal
connected to the great procession,
angles came to reach full circle.
the adviatic mystery 
 is humming deep within my being
penetrating masks of fear
and bringing forth the truths I see.

approaching what was meant to be, 
a sense of self pours out of me.
intensified perplexity
contorting your peripheries.
you don't believe that I can be
this massive creature that you see,
with eyes as big as saucers,
picking up the light that
flickers behind skin.

with wishful hope of staying centered
swaying gusts of my endeavors
seek to settle down forever,
as the selfishness dissolves.
I have broken down the walls
that separate myself from you
as shifting earth will still revolve, 
wholesome love is the only truth.

& I love you.
Julie Grenness Jul 2015
Are migrants proud Australians?
Our nation based on immigration,
One polyglot meld of humanity,
To Australia show fidelity,
Our nation of peaceful tolerance,
People from Earth's shifting sands,
Living here in our Great Southern Land,
Deployment should not be our dance,
Nothing wrong with loyalty,
Patriotism our children's legacy,
---Great Southern Land,
All welcome to be Australians!
Inspired by a newspaper headline. Feedback welcome.
Ochiogu Kevin Apr 2010
A calm air          
with drizzle          
of purity and scantity          
upon a land          
of chastity and fidelity.          
A swift wind          
with strength          
of hurricanes or tornadoes
sweeping the land          
off its chastity and fidelity.          
A barren land          
with people          
of no faith and love,          
iotas of chastity and fidelity          
became rare.
cacia Nov 2013
sincere
infidelity
such a trick
on sincerity
it is easy
to mimick
but not
so  when it ******
the marks it leaves
are sticks
tattoos of a fix
to remind you
that yellow
subsides for shallow
red
to tell you
off when said
and blue
to constantly hue
any chances of you
doing it again.
Joseph Aaron Nov 2014
An endearing gesture, the respited conjecture.
   Fidelity to be measured within the length of our arms,
To be faithful to ends in which gratitude is yet yearned.
    Within the brazen walls of such lasting impressions,
The only abstract love is of the confessions.

Let the sincerity of words touch your stricken heart,
  Before this world ends, before affliction starts.
Trust these words of wisdom that age cannot exactly tell,
  Listen to the gallows of before a winter fell.

The warmth in your veins mingles with the red of mine,
Under the sported remains of a husk of refrain.
   Be the wind to guide the loose leaves of a summers passed,
   Be the loving gesture of a lasting lovers grasp.
Jesse Osborne May 2016
great-grandma Corinne was always doomed
to leave the room just before a big event

she was in the bathroom across
the hallway the day I was born
          
           she was in the supermarket across
           the street the day her husband died

as is my fate to wish for love
in the moments before i leave

but i’d take a lifetime of clocks
ticking two breaths behind

            to settle inside the cocoon of
            your mouth for a whisper of time
PelicanDeath Aug 2015
the smoke rose
curling silver
your fingers
move a circle
from your eyes
to the burning
point of your
cigarette

somewhere
her silence folds
around the touch
of an ending
sigh

hand falling into
empty hand
It all made sense now - the road map of my demise.
You could've **** me with your longing heart.
How could you let a broken painting get in the way?
How could you presume, a friendly rapport was feigned?
Why did you have to wait, till the dam can contain it no more?
I felt fate yanked my heart's strings, tangling it.
My brain, rupturing from the cruel deductions.
Tormented cranium - screws, gouging out of it.

It all made sense now - anger draws me towards retaliation.
But I choose not to bear arms; forgivness cries out.
I sever my hand against you,
For I will not let this get in the way of our longing for each other.
I abhor hatred against you,
Because our sweet memories overwhelmed me; because I love you.
My exquisite geyserite, my blossoming middlemist; my Alma mater -
I have never forgotten you - I never did - I never will.
Beat* a thousand beats,
Crumble a thousand crumbles;
But no single formula, nor restless colloquy
Can mend the deafening black gravity nestled in this cage.
May grow flowers, but disintegrates to ash.
Soars to the highest peak, then jolted with a fatal blow.
Comedy or tragedy, truth or dare, numbers or letters, fidelity or treachery;
What does it choose?

Courage, dear heart.
This is another pen and ink draft coming from the crevices of my thoughts, in this quiescent and intellectual brain of mine. Enjoy!

Frankly, I've been having a dilemma for the title of this piece. Can anyone give me some suggestions? Thank you.
Tawanda Mulalu Nov 2014
Listen...

at least...

at...

the end of the day...

I learnt this:


I'm the type of person who

can have everything he wants in the world,
everything (yes, you)

But will jump to give it all up
in one second,
one ****** second,

all for the sake of adventure.


Take that as you wish.
Ofelia Rose Aug 2012
I try to sing this melody
Of my own fidelity
But I lack this morality
That tells me the reality
Of a life in harmony
With spirits heavenly
I am my own entity
And when I show this identity
It has no truth to humanity
So I speak in brevity
To hide the perplexity
That only few conceptually
Embrace with full integrity
To soar in the clouds joyfully
Like the eagles in serenity
And the gods of heredity
We are the truthful society
Yet know one knows it verily
I will continue transcendently
Like the lotus in her artistry
I will paint mindfully
The visage of prosperity
In all its beauty
So vividly
Until I rest solemnly
In my garden above the galaxy
Where all who truthfully
Flew with divinity
In utter tranquility
While this world unfaithfully
Decayed presently
In the lies of commonality
In this globe of duality
Don’t sing this parody
Avoid the practicality
Your song is skillfully
Hiding from the animosity
You will have your symphony
In a sky of pure unity
kali ma Jul 2010
While every drowns me out
you turn me up
listening to all of my personalities
pretty sirens don't take your attention off of me
people in love are suppose to meet half way
little did they know, we were in each other all along.
Paula Swanson Aug 2010
In a faded dress she wore, of crimson and pink pearls,
on her pedestal she sat, parasol, she did twirl.
Though age may have faded plumes and placed lines on her face,
she refuses to give up on dreams of silks and fine lace.
She knew that her lovers, would be coming back to her,
to once again, furnish her with jewelry and rich furs.
Through the years she waits, her mind slowing slips away.
Insanity took control, while vanity takes sway.
As her lovers did marry off, or just died away
and her peers morals, of fidelity, won the day,
less and less, she was in demand, as a paramour.
Vanity and ego, sealed her fate for evermore.

Vanity and ego, sealed her fate for evermore.
Less and less, she was in demand, as a paramour
And her peer's morals of fidelity, won the day.
As her lovers did marry off, or just died away,
insanity took control, while vanity, takes sway.
Through the years she waits, her mind slowly slips away.
To once again furnish her in jewelry and rich furs,
she knew that her lovers, would be coming back to her.
She refuses to give up on dreams of silks and fine lace.
Though age may have faded plumes and placed lines on her face,
on her pedestal she sat, parasol she did twirl.
In a faded dress she wore of crimson and pink pearls.
Helen Feb 2013
27 hours ago my body
did die

and deep in the ground
where the quiet was lost
the earth breathed a sigh
because it was over tired
of being a simple scapegoat
when you kept swearing
upon such a gentle earth
a completely empty oath

that I was the one and only
I was the moon in your night sky
I was the ocean of your dreams
and your every sunrise
I was the soil that you planted
your seed that was ****
the very earth of your humanity
that became the abuse that you need

I'll throw my whole hand into the centre
of this mangy universe
just to let you throw down yours in disgust
It would seem to hurt
less worst
than just resting in this hole in the ground
Hope you come round
*one day...
nivek Mar 2014
Someone fell into your eyes.
I cannot replace:
or erase them.
FIDELITY?  I've always been a strong believer in fidelity until i met him.
He was nothing like the other men, there was an aura about him that pulled you to him, the man was an enigma, sexuality had never been so portrayed by a man but this man was special!
ADULTERY! This man had charmed his way into my life and boy did i not know what i was in for! He was married yes, i was entertaining young men yes but i was overwhelmed by my feelings for him that i embraced it and loved the fact that he was married and i had a man, men? i really didn't care.
*******! The first time he took me was on his office table, we didn't make love, all we did was ****, he was rough and would say the nastiest things, i felt like a ***** and i loved it. he wouldn't even bother closing the door, made it more intense. we would be at it for hours but still, i wanted his filthy **** after we were done, plunging in so deep, filling me with his seed, spending time in his office in the pretense of working. Well he was working me and i was rocking his ****.
LUST? Lust was all i felt for him, it wasn't love. i wasn't so gullible to think so because when i woke up i couldn't even remember his name. maybe it was a dream showing me how the other half lived.........
Äŧül Apr 2017
I am happy that she freed herself,
But disappointed with her as well.

'Cause I had limited her she feels,
While she was her own delimiter.

I am happy that I had my fidelity,
But hurt with her eternal docility.

'Cause she was so docile overall,
While having such a crude ear.

I am happy that I am not with her,
But sad that I am very lonely now.

'Cause she was so close to my heart,
While keeping me close to her own.

I am happy that I did love her a lot,
But weeping that it is, after all, past.
My HP Poem #1497
©Atul Kaushal
Robdejong Nov 2013
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