"forewent" poems
It is in our all for we are all and in a tunnel coiled
An entwining miasmic kaleidoscope we call our entirety
We are a collective phantasmagoria of escapeless toil
Lost in ourselves and forewent to society
The quark to the universe the everything to the quark
All beauty too big to look and too small to see
An everything of light yet we have sight only to the stark
Within the bleak there is only me for you and you for me
The god’s perform their song in the foundations of all formed
Waves sway and quaver thrumming from an insoluble craw
One note un-precise and we’re left ever so more deformed
Each of us hear it differently yet as you with mine all I can hear is yours
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
Friends, acquaintances, strangers, I bid thee, which of two takes precedence?
Be it a nobler aim to obstruct thy door and remain in thy domicile until the end of time?
Or be it nobler to venture into the unknown, unprotected and on pain of possible demise?
'Tis the question at heart.
'Tis a question of the security of the citizenry.
When death's dark emissary cometh with haste, in what manner shall he find thee?
Shall thee be secured in thy possessions, apart from danger, and unharmed all these years bygone?
Or shall the emissary find thee in a different state, perhaps one of felicity?
'Tis the question of the security of the citizenry.
Yea, there are those few proud that are the makes of heroic tales profound.
They forewent the promise of security for the mere taste of an ascended delicacy, for a mere sampling of the honey that floweth from the tree of liberty.
And when the great father bids of me, "Which of these were you, enslaved or free?"
My retort shall be simple.
In this grand question concerning the security of the citizenry, I forewent my security in favor of the great gift that is liberty.
In the matter of the state and her subjects, and in times of great turmoil, the liberties of the people are oft lain to the side, so that they may live another day free of death's eternal sleep.
Yea, what is the value of life if its experience is cheap?
To what extent are we thinkers free if our place in the flock is that of sheep?
Thy liberties are a priceless commodity.
'Tis a question of the security of the citizenry.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 3:03 AM UTC
Surrounded on all sides by the sudden prospect of doom.
He attempted to create some more room between what life he had left and an imminent death.
"Time flies when you're having fun,"
so isn't the opposite true?
How many eons did he spend doing things he hated?
How many lifetimes he must of lived through;
loathing his dreary circumstances,
his hobbies,
his friends.
Surrounded himself with dullness in order to blunt the passage of time.
I mean, in that situation,
what would you do?
He forewent all sense of pleasure for the sake of a longer life,
but in the end,
he lost it too.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 12:33 AM UTC
Seek not to be the best
because thy technique is kept secret.
Rather, seek to be the best
by applying it howsoever is seen fit.
Seek but thy own technique.
It shall be the best for thee.
Yes,
that means
being self-aware and creative.
Yes,
that means
teaching thyself
at each and every opportunity.
Yes,
temporary failure is inevitable,
but welcome such opportunities:
they are only what are made of them.
For:
with perseverance,
what abundance may be found
forewent by others.
One who finds One's self
transcends much inner struggle,
and is free to be.
Learn, copy, study,
do whatsoever it takes;
just, please, say ye will
walk away from everything
with anything,
rather than
as something.
Read between the lines.
Seek to do so all the time,
because I think that One shall find
elusory, seductive peace of mind
awaits us all so patiently there.
Fear not
to dream on:
be thyself,
wheresoever it may take thee.
All else be naught shy of Cowardice, I daresay!
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
toward thee spunky gal,
whose impregnation and debut appearance
way to brief a tale for Aesop
cuz, (umpteen iterations recounted),
out the birth canal aye did bop
analogously compared
to a mealy mouthed measly crop
a spindly tangle of arms and legs
radiated (starfish like)
dangled and would uselessly drop
like a raggedy ann male counterpart
(raggedy andy - how original)
with limbs that didst flop
and tis no small wonder, thyself as one
newborn baby body electric
easily confused with bony glop,
which skimpy weight
leant convenience as sigh grew older
to alternate jumping
(ala pogo stick mode) and hop
from one skinny spindle shank leg to another,
and manifold orbitz whip
sawing round the sun
bore witness to puny laughable specimen
of a nerdy lad, who (in hindsight)
grew long straggly hair,
which NO ONE (except me) could touch,
nor most definitely NOT lop
off (this fetish) compensation
for very slight physique
in dewed time begot
pencil necked geek milksop,
now at an age prowl lix sing viz
dragging, crawling, battling...
slight abdominal bulge
unlike widower octogenarian biological pop
whose once strapping superman
like build atrophying (sad sight)
since grim reaper put objectionable stop
upon head of harriet harris,
whereat two and a half score years
her longevity did top.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
now, comb may tooth how zen,
sans eight plus ten
'twill be thirteen yars
when me late mum agonizingly relinquished
an indomitable loo ving life,
which strong fighting spirit
(spittle and vinegar) yen
reached a juncture,
(sans metastasized ovarian cancer)
forewent heroic measures, which ken
not avail bottled anger within this sole son
telling thee, he didst love ye
never communicating NOR often!
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 12:27 AM UTC