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Shofi Ahmed Aug 2018
The world is small even heaven isn't big
but an uncreated Word is,
an expression of love and promise!

The tale of the beginning
the tale of the end without the ending.
Soon God said it 'Qun' be
bang it couldn't be bigger indeed.

Everything small and big the complete
creations panache came to be so big!
The body is small the soul came in the front
and every soul big banged in one go.
All heard the same Word it was only one
that sets the tone for the first to the last
so sweet it took everyone’s heart!

The death wouldn’t touch the soul
that already died but couldn’t die.
Revived there and then instantly,
hearing the 'Qun' the uncreated melody!
Crooned up even through the dead-end
surged up to the other side of the black hole.
Like a waxing Moon passed over, crossing
the asleep body in the shadow, yet in the making!

Unable to resist it, the first big bang
didn’t happen amidst the material entity
not in the star, milky way or in the galaxy.
Adam was yet to be in the body
the physical ear was yet to hear it!
Unlike the tuned in abyss soul there
that harks and the clouds rise and rain
only to revert back to the sea
showering the shallow terraqueous body.

He said ‘Qun’ again and the first physical big bang
on the matter takes place in Fathima’s joint
interlacing her live soul and pre-design body.
It cuts through the irrational pi in between
the soul and body so that gel in melody!
With pure love without a condition
that shall keep up perpetuating the body!

Nature that was yet to be, gets a mirror in its entirety
and bangs big hearing an echo of ‘Qun’ be, says the Almighty
it comes to be and shall perish only to be an eternal body!
RAJ NANDY Nov 2014
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY
OF HISTORY IN VERSE : PART ONE
              BY RAJ NANDY
              INTRODUCTION
The very mention of History brings to mind
many civilizations, its wars, with endless
succession of ruling dynasties and kings;
Its many dates and events, which appear to be
rather dull and boring!
“If history were taught in the form of stories, it
would never be forgotten”, said Rudyard Kipling!
So if a good teacher of History narrates those
events like a story within a broad chronological
frame work,
While skillfully linking the present in light of the
past;
Mentioning both important and lesser known
interesting facts to arouse the interest of his
class; -
History would be better appreciated by us!
Perhaps in its narrowest sense, History may be
viewed only as a chronological succession of
dates and past events!
But let me assure you that History is a dynamic
linear progression, adapting and evolving with
changing times,
As present recedes into the past all the while!
These changes could be environmental, socio-
economic, or political changes faced by mankind.
But we remain as a living part of History all the
while!
Yet while we live through History, we fail to realize
the impact we make upon history and time;
And this is perhaps the very magic and enigma of
History,
Which occasionally lends it a touch of mystery!
Our family album is a record of our history we
create and leave behind at the micro level;
Just as past civilizations have left behind their imprints
in their architecture, statues, literature, and works
of art at the macro level !
History breathes and speaks to us from the distant
past,
If only we could pause to hear its unspoken words,
As the Romantic poet John Keats had once heard!
Keats’  “Ode on a Grecian Urn” composed during
early 19th century, -
Harks back to the Classical Age of Greek History!
Keats waxes eloquent in his description of pastoral
scenes painted on the urn which lies frozen in time;
While Keats leaves behind his exalted and eternal
aesthetic message - ‘Beauty is Truth and Truth
Beauty’, - which shall outlive our mortal time!
So it is with History, like the Grecian urn the past  
remains eternalized in time with its lessons and
stories;
While it beckons us to unravel her mysteries!
For the historian, the architect, the geologist,
the anthropologist, scholars and the artist,
‘’History is a continuous dialogue between
the present and the past’’;
As observed by the English historian and
diplomat EW Carr.
Even though we cannot change the past, we can
surely absorb the lessons it has left behind for us!
The Spanish born American philosopher George
Santayana had said; -
“Those who cannot remember the past are
condemned to repeat it!”
The Dutch philosopher Soren Kierkegaard had
once remarked; -
“Life must be lived forward, but it can only be
understood backward.”
So let us learn from past History to create a
better future for humanity.
For the past gives us a sense of belonging
and an identity;
Since our very roots lie enshrined in History!
By the time you complete reading my entire
composition,
I hope to convert you into a Lover of History
by broadening your perception!

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND OF HISTORY!
Ancient Greece, the cradle of Western Civilization
during the 6th century BC, -
Saw the birth of Philosophy!
Thales of Miletus, Anaximenes, and Anaximander,
from the Greek colony of Ionia on the west coast
of Asia Minor,  (now Turkey)
Broke the previous shackles of all mythical and
superstitious explanations.
With their questioning mind and rational thinking
they sought,  -
To seek the real behind the apparent, and substance
behind the shadow;
By seeking natural and logical reasons for explaining
natural phenomena, -
Free from all previous religious and mythical
interpretations!
Thus, these Milesian School of thinkers in their quest
for truth with their intellectual lust, -
Gave rise to ‘philosophia’, Greek word for ‘love
of truth’, an early birth!
Subsequently, this newly born Greek Philosophy with
its progressive thoughts inspired scientific methods
of inquiry;
Along with Logic, trial by Jury, and the very concept
of Democracy!
The Greeks also inspired Literature, History, Tragedy,
Comedy, the Olympic Games, Astronomy, and Geometry!
Around 500 BC the Greek written script had stabilized,
going from left to right;
And the first addition of vowel letters by the Greeks
to the adopted Phoenician consonants, can never
be denied!
The first two Greek letters ‘alpha’ and ‘beta’ which
gave the name to our Alphabets forms a part of
early History.
Now Herodotus, during the 5th century BC, had
inherited this intellectual Greek Legacy!

HERODOTUS – ‘THE FATHER OF HISTORY’
Herodotus is said to have been born in the ancient
Dorian Greek city of Halicarnassus in south-west
Asia Minor, which is now Turkey;
During the latter half of 5th century BC!
During his days, the city was under the rule of Persia;
Since the Persians had captured the Greek colonies
in Asia Minor!
Frequent revolts by these colonies against the
Persians with help from Athens,
Made the Persian King Darius, and later his son
Xerxes, - decide to invade Athens!
The Persians also wanted to extend their Empire
into Europe across the Bosporus Strait, -
Which divided Asia from Europe in those days!

In 490 BC, when the massive Persian army of King
Darius landed at Marathon as assured victors;
The Athenian running courier Pheidippides ran
150 miles in two days, to seek help from Sparta!
Again later, he ran 25 miles from the battlefield
near Marathon to Athens, to announce that the
Greeks became the final victors!
This historic run by Pheidippides gave rise to the
discipline of Marathon, in our Olympic Games
later on!
Such Marathon runs are now held in many cities
of the world annually,
Thus we remain connected with our past as you
can clearly see!
Years later in 425 BC, Herodotus narrated these
invasions in his famous narrative ‘Histories’.
Cicero the Roman scholar, philosopher and orator,
Had called Herodotus the ‘Father of History’ many
centuries later!
Very little is known about Herodotus’ early life,
But from historical evidence which survive,
We learn about his stay in Athens, and his many
wanderings;
Visiting Egypt, Libya, Syria, Babylon, Susa in Elam,
Lydia, and Phrygia;
Collecting information which he called ‘autopsies’
or ‘personal inquiries’, and hearing many stories;
Prior to composing his famous ‘Histories’!

“THE HISTORIES”: HERODOTUS (430-425BC)
This was written in prose in the Iconic dialect of
Classical Greek,
Covers the background, causes, and events of the
Greco-Persian Wars between 490 and 479 BC.  
Scholars divided the entire work into 9 Books, with
each dedicated to a Greek Muse, - those goddesses
of art and knowledge,
Thereby the Homeric tradition they did acknowledge!
For example, Book-I was dedicated to Calliope, the
Muse of Epic Poetry, and Book-II to Clio, the Muse
of History.
Herodotus begins his narration with these following
words;-
“Here is the account of the inquiry of Herodotus of
Halicarnassus in order that the deeds of men not be
erased by time, and that the great and miraculous
works – both of the Greeks and the barbarians not
go unrecorded.”
Now Herodotus with his lucid narrative style, had
pioneered the writing of History with a specific
framework of space and time!
His style got emulated by later writers of History,
Who improved their narration with better authentic
source and methodology;
Thereby giving birth to the subject of ‘Historiography’.
(Historiography = critical examination of source & selection
of authentic material, synthesis of particulars into a narrative
whole, which shall stand the test of critical methods.)

HERODOTUS’ ‘INQUIRY’ GAVE BIRTH TO ‘HISTORY’!
The ancient Greek word “historia” meant ‘knowledge
acquired by investigation or inquiry’’, and the Greek
‘histore’ meant ‘inquiry’.  
It was in this sense Aristotle later used it in his ‘’Inquires
on Animals’’- during the 4th Century BC;
And this mode of ‘inquiry’ later became ‘History’!
The term ‘History’ entered English language in 1390
as a “record of past incidents and story”.
However, the restriction to the meaning “record of
past events” only, came during the 15th century.
But the German word ‘Geschichte’ even to this day,
Means both history and story, without making
distinction in any way!
Since the story element remains inbuilt in all historical
narrations,
And also remains as a tribute to its author’s creation!
CONCLUDING PORTION WILL BE POSTED LATER AS
PART-TWO. Thanks, - RAJ NANDY.
**ALL COPY RIGHTS WITH THE AUTHOR RAJ NANDY,
OF NEW DELHI
Friends, this is a short intro. to the subject of History in Verse, composed in a simplified form. The concluding portion will be posted later as Part Two. Hope you like the same! In case you like it, do recommend to your other friend! Thanks, -Raj
Steve D'Beard Nov 2012
Yours is not a caged minor bird
That has forgotten how to fly
Who has not wings to unfurl
Or a voice to sing harks of warm air
Even on winter mornings

Glide the up-draft and all it’s edges
Where you said you’d fallen from
And where I could see my footprints
Lost in the distance
Far below

I have no fear of falling.
Dive bomb the rocks below
or take faith in the air beneath -
Flap and talk of leaving someday
Ready a perch in wanton relief
and take what you’re given

I am not a bird
I have forgotten how to sing sweetly
Others make noise
Blissfully unawares
of the harmonium which awaits

As a sound or a note overheard,
captured on the ear.
Without knowing the scale
Or the instrument
But the sounds or an urban minor bird

You are in essence
as effortless
as air Itself
Living on borrowed time
Decision at drop of a hat
Down an empty vandalized street, I walk
through the horror of silence
and silence of serenity
perdurable pathway of life

The ghastly sights
and the rustling gates
scattered people with unknown tastes
emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words
void is profound
down the perdurable pathway of life

Bifurcated roads upfront
my perception, one to hell and one to heaven
the other end of roads, a mystery
I stood there comprehending, while
my mind harks back to before I came
down the perdurable pathway of life

Endurance of a toiler
Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer
pain and suffering he undergoes for common good
loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships
sincerity and humbleness of the bloke
will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life

Deprived of education
desolated on streets laboring
disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury
fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile
The kid's love and determination, will inspire me
down the perdurable pathway of life

Spurn love took her down
Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits
killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality
not a wise choice, but courageous
I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide
Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life

Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest
Reality speaks otherwise
Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought
conscious and hard choices right ahead
The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell?
I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
294

The Doomed—regard the Sunrise
With different Delight—
Because—when next it burns abroad
They doubt to witness it—

The Man—to die—tomorrow—
Harks for the Meadow Bird—
Because its Music stirs the Axe
That clamors for his head—

Joyful—to whom the Sunrise
Precedes Enamored—Day—
Joyful—for whom the Meadow Bird
Has ought but Elegy!
Lazhar Bouazzi Nov 2017
With one ear he harks to the drums
Of the tribal measure when it comes,
Then he feels he must talk in tongues
So he yields his nakedness to the words.

Only words when summoned
Ask for nothing in return
For a fire they beckoned
To kindle a withered burn
And brighten the dark dome again
In the midnight hour.

With one ear he harks to the drums
Of the tribal measure as it comes,
Then he knows he should speak through some tongues
So he offers his nakedness to the words
Willingly in the midnight hour.

© LazharBouazzi
Meg Howell Jan 2015
It was but a dreary day
When the crows began to pray
When the harks began to sing
When the doves began to shout
All had gone upside down
Even the worst of them were begging for help
While the so called holy ones started the riots
Brian Fahey Jul 2015
Long and endless nights,
Of blood, sweat, tears, and charcoal.
Melting into smile.

Haven't slept in days,
If I could I'm sure I would,
Cigarettes will do.

Paradox in hand,
I form an open window,
Illusive, by fLaw.

Golden lights are on,
Check. Chronic aches and pains. Check.
Perfectionism...

Check. Coffee is my blood,
A running joke amongst us slaves,
We might die without.

Humor's important
Now, because I'm already
Two-far and long-gone.

Far-along the shores
Of distant kingdoms wreckage.
Lost within again,

Shattered and washed up
Into mountains of peril,
And treasures turned dust,

Aftermath beheld
In retrospect, I should have,
Could have would have dones.

All within a shape.
I finish my drink and sit,
Dusty nose n ****.

I want to give up,
Whispering Sith Professor,
Harks of homeworks past.

Birds in the distance,
Crickets lost within the night,
Still life in mid-flight.

Still life is my life,
Satan is the only way,
Jazz is close second.

Fellow holograms,
This is not an SOS,
This is a farmhouse.

…....


Jk, pls send help.
I fear if I keep going,
I may never stop.

I may not want to...
These are my last words before
I return to dust;

If anyone has
The heart to come and unwind,
Brains from my behind.

A cuppa tea, or,
A splotch of green to withhold
Things from coming apart,

If anyone wants
To comfort such who in
Nothingness departs,

I'm with Descartes,
In storms of bleeding hearts, a
Pupil of Fine Arts.
this is an haiku,
you can read it if you want.
buttered toast is good.
Jenny Gordon Oct 2017
hi.  [funny thing about chancing upon that particular title is my first boyfriend used to wrestle with my brothers and I]


(sonnet #MMMMMMDCXCV)


Ah, silver twilight! mists like to a veil
Down in the valley, maples nod from hence
Their greener boughs as rain 'non whispers thence--
That voice my soul harks unto, low and frail
Yet oh, how sweet!  If only in betrayl
I could 'gain lose me on that haunting sense
Which tugs at nary sleeve, yet knows fr'intents
What I sae yearn t'embrace, light waxing pale.
My brother sez thet all does change as twere,
Um, after we are one, though neither to
Effect know truly, 'cept by what, in poor
'Scuse, others say.  The Word of God is true.
I'm sick of waiting...yet.  Leaves dimly stir,
This half-light all I cherish, without you.

14Oct17c
Laugh at me.
Red Robregado Dec 2023
Where would a Hobbit be,
struggling alone in his long quest,
without the second set of sturdy feet?

How could a Hobbit
stand a hope
had he to face the eerie taunting of the Ringwraiths,
the haunting, blazing evil gaze
on his own?

How could a Hobbit see
some good in the world,
something worth fighting for,
without those earnest eyes that
speak of stars, of tales that endure,
of light persisting, of promises pure?

And how is it possible for any man,
let alone a Hobbit,
to tread to Mordor’s smoking pit,
up to Mount Doom where nothing but shadow looms,
to bear the unbearable—
the One Ring that whispers its seduction,
too enticing, too powerful,
as to rule creatures and all—
without a friend against all enemies,
whose loyalty as deep as ancient roots?

Impossible. Unimaginable.
Yet however unlikely to win against the odds without aid,
the Hobbit shall stand and brave the gathering storm,
even if the fellowship ceases to exist,
for it’s the Masterful Weaver who holds fate’s thread,
He crafts a tale where heroes small find victory as He intends
No matter the trials, the losses, the cost,
the Hobbitses shall not be lost—
even in the sorrow of parting’s riposte.

Not all tears are evil, some guide to the Undying Lands
where peace harks and wounds find complete healing.
It's been time for the past 5 minutes
Do or die it's what we say
Game time, all the time, no more work, just play
Hands shaking, stomach quaking, mind aching, nerves breaking
Our object and goal clear with the rooms gravity intensifying
Sweating, it's cold, pressure, I'm trying
No time to waste, our time to use
A game where we can all tie win or lose
The crowds expressionless faces their infamous harks
The more I think about it, we're the fishes in the sea of sharks
The pressure they put on me was always provoked
I couldn't overcome it even on my best days
When it comes to the real do I have always choked
Jayne E May 2019
For ny honey-bee...

something must be wrong with me
if even eating a mandarin
has me thinking of thee

hot sultry passionate thoughts
not really ones usually fraught
with ***** longings & mind fed scenes
oh lordy, here come the nectarines

I guess it harks back to when you fed
me your luscious fruitful breakfast in bed
did things with fruit that made me blush
talking your sweet time in no real rush
to savour the flavours of every bite
another new chapter for our lovers rites
so now as I eat mandarins sitting in bed

all I see now as juice bursts is you in my head
and as the citrus scent fills my nose
I can't even whisper where my mind goes
to make oneself blush is no mean feat
yet it has me squirming, jump in my seat

no innocent poem about sweet mandarin
rather the undone state you have me in

J.C. "honey-owl" 04/05/2019.
Megan Sherman Feb 2017
Amidst fire, flies cosmic sparks
A sight at which my spirit harks
Through fire cosmic power sung
Articulated on scintillating tongue
The guardian of the divine flame
Who awakens spirits, sleeping, lame
With molten lance, searing spirit
A snake through spine, feeling vivid
The ghostly self is slain

Amidst molten skies, go thunder bolts
On their sound my spirit dotes
The thunderous applause of lightning
Has potency is such it's frightening
A bolt of melody struck my head
When all the sorry world dropped dead
Awakening the tune inside
The salve to my spirit supplied
After it had bled

One ruby Sun my gorgeous idol
Nourishing the flowers bridal
Feeding flowers, tending seed
Giving care in hour of need
Giver of life, I honour you
You are a sacred spirit true
The most majestic of all fires
Worthy to be sung on lyres
For your touch I grew
Big Virge Dec 2020
It's......
... " The Writer In Me "...
Who Writes Poetry …….

And LOVES To EXPRESS...
Through Usage of Text....

It's The ONE Part of Me...
That TRULY Is.... FREE...............................  

NO Constraints........................ ..
Or Words That TAINT...  !!!
The Vivid Pictures That I Paint...

It's... The Writer In Me...

Who Wants To BELIEVE...
That ARTISTRY Is ULTIMATELY...

A Key To Achieve...
A Sense of Peace...
IN... Who I Be... !!!!

And A Sense of LOVE...
In..... HUMANITY.... !!!!!!!!!!!!

Because The Writer In Me...
Chooses... To SEE...
A Way To CONNECT...
And YES CORRECT... !!!!!

The EVIL That Resides IN People.....

UNABLE To Release...
Their...  INNER Beast... !!!

The Demons That...
... "Restrict and Trap"...

The... HUMAN Part...
That Pumps Their Heart...

Instead of The Path...
Where DARKNESS HARKS... !!!

And Makes Them Move...
Like... Human Sharks... !!!

... The Writer In Me...
Does NOT Infuse...
Like Those From Schools...
Where IGNORANCE Rules...

It... CHOOSES To Pool...
... RESOURCEFUL Moods...
Where CREATION IS The ONLY Tool...

I Need To Make...
My Dark Moods Cool...

And Then Relate CREATIVE Views...
That Reflect On.................
.... Our Life's Function....

It's... " The Writer In Me "...

Who Wants To See...
Humanity REACH...
For Beliefs That FEED...
Our Youngsters Themes...
That DO NOT Teach...
Them... How To Be...

FiILLED With GREED And VANITY... !!!

But... DEEPER Things...
That Help Us Live...

Like LOVE and PEACE...
And... UNITY... !!!!!!!!

... PROSPERITY...
of Their Minds Their Souls...
and Their Bodies... !!!

So That LESS Holes....
Become... EXPOSED... !!!

In... How It Is...
We Choose To Roll...

From Being At Home...
To How We Control...

Our... " Spiritual Being "...
And Find DEEPER Meaning... !!!

Than Acting Like... “cowards”...
Who Live To Gain POWER...
And Using THOSE Powders...

That Leave BULLETHoles In Clothes.....
And IMPLODE Up Some Peoples Nose... !!!!!

... The Writer In Me...
REFUSES To Go... !!!!

To Places... " so low "...

That They're Beneath My Toes...
cos' I'm A... TALL Bloke... !!!!

YES... That Was A Joke !!!

See The Writer In Me...
Just Wants To Be HAPPY... !!!

In This World That's CLEARLY...
LOST With... NO SEA... ?!!!?

LOSING It's Trees...
To Build Properties... ?!?

... LOSING Families...
Due To ANGER That Seeps..............

Into Mums And Daddies'...
That Sadly Now FEEDS...
The Offspring They Breed....

But... That's NOT The Way...
That I Will End This Piece... !!!

... The Writer In Me...
Has MORE POSITIVE Dreams...

Dreams NOT Deluded...
But Those MORE INCLUSIVE...

Those...  LESS DIVISIVE...
And MUCH MORE Inviting... !!!

of Human Progression... !!!
MORE Uplifting lessons...

More TRUTH And LESS Moods...
That... DO NOT Include.... !!!

And YES Of Course WRITERS... !!
Who Choose To Be FIGHTERS... !!!

For... LESS BLOOD To Pour...

More Wordplay To ROAR...
And... Lyrically SOAR... !!!

Like EAGLES UP HIGH...
CRUISING In The Skies... !!!

... TRULY At PEACE...
With NATURE You See... !!!

A Place That... BELIEVE...
INSPIRES And FEEDS...

THESE Words That I BLEED... !!!

From...

... " The Writer In Me "...
I never dreamed that I would be one, however, it seems that I now am a writer !
Peter Kiggin Apr 2016
Crow

Sometimes the crow sits beside me on his wooden fence
He acknowledges I am here then listens to the world for his own amusement
His eyes are black but alive in a sense that everything he sees is poignant
His body also black but also very pristine like a suit made by the government
The lies he sees are preposterous and he harks at people's discontent
The world is very complex he knows but there is a final judgement
The crow tells all to the Grim Reaper and all people's devilment
The crow eats vermin for the flesh and the blood keeps him vigilant
It must be hard for an intelligent bird to sit so long and see confinement
The bird has wings but they only use them to flee animal's punishment
Sometimes the crow sits beside me on his wooden fence.
Questioning
Shyamsi Oct 2014
Suddenly night crushed out the day and hurled
Her remnants over cloud-peaks, thunder-walled.
Then fell a stillness such as harks appalled
When far-gone dead return upon the world.

There watched I for the Dead; but no ghost woke.
Each one whom Life exiled I named and called.
But they were all too far, or dumbed, or thralled,
And never one fared back to me or spoke.
SassyJ Dec 2016
Hold the tired hands suppressed by eons
calloused by the tears of generational fears
carousel your caress in resonated templed arks
harks of walks, ever fervent, reverenced and etched

Tender love from ancient ambient scented rocks
metamorphic withered limestones in evolvement
sedimentary chains of life, tagging in ageless dreams
of resurrections from the eye of the untorn needle
Jenny Gordon Mar 2019
Yes?



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCI)


What is't about the train's voice, that th'all hail
Um, piques my soul, which harks unto its dense
Low rumble like tis...what?  O dear suspense!
How "nibelung" half winks at me in hale
Dawn's golden warmth as if it knows in pale
Excuse my name, like these elf ears I've thence
Had from conception argue in a sense
Now with my height, while mists haunt with their veil.
I'd feign lose me in fog's embrace as twere;
Go wandring like I canna see unto
The fairer realms beyond is't?  Silver dew.
I cherish its sheer blanket waiting fer
Heavn's burning glance, a violet none bestir,
Hid in the darker shadows trains pass through.

22Mar19a
I don't know what else to add.  
Nibelung was the word for the day and seemed too apt.  How's that?
Tatum O'Brien Sep 2014
What is it that which we do,
makes no matter which way we go,
a harrowing event that falls to the wayside,
destitute and broken, filled with blight.

Roll over and shun our own self.
Reject I, that am all but gone.
Pity self, pity selflessly.
Then reject that too.

Look at the sky,
past the buzzards circling the ravishing corpse.
Once there was more,
and there will be again, a New World harks.

Time passes in longevity,
yet in the blink of an eye-
it becomes the past.
Always so long ago.

Ravines fill with raging rivers,
rushing without respite.
Not realizing that it takes time,
all the energy at once can not change everything.

Not at once.

Lay fallow, heal our wounds.
Rise again with elegance,
or at least determination.

And do it all over again.
From start to finish.
Break down, over and over again.
And do it with finesse.
Megan Sherman Feb 2017
With her wanton magick, she is the Empress of Hearts
An awesome sight atop the throne of Love's paradise
Yielding to the vivacious vision my spellbound spirit harks
Her enchanting beauty and auras entice
Would our heartz waltz together in time
I'd be enamoured of her forever
She's the poets muse, the thing sublime
The zenith of poet's endeavour
Famished of Love for years I search
And find her when I'm not looking
I Love her even in Love's dearth
Her majesty is shocking
    O when she raises her tender voice
    All the babes of the world rejoice
Peter Kiggin Jan 2017
Crow
Sometimes the crow sits beside me on his wooden fence
He acknowledges I am here then listens to the world for his own amusement
His eyes are black but alive in a sense that everything he sees is poignant
His body also black but also very pristine like a suit made by the government
The lies he sees are preposterous and he harks at people's discontent
The world is very complex he knows but there is a final judgement
The crow tells all to the Grim Reaper and all people's devilment
The crow eats vermin for the flesh and the blood keeps him vigilant
It must be hard for an intelligent bird to sit so long and see confinement
The bird has wings but they only use them to flee animal's punishment
Sometimes the crow sits beside me on his wooden fence.
Charles Sturies Oct 2016
That is the same one I like –
the beat to Shotgun by Jr. Walker
and the All Stars
It makes me feel militant
like I’m attacking the Cong
or leaning on
the 4th of July celebration
for “the dudes” in front
to attack the bang-a-gong crown
if they throw Molotov
cocktails at
‘em
and brissel with pigtails
Blockbuster wasn’t like this.
The DVD business seems sick
compared to Dead-Eye ****
who harks back to a character names
Ben.
Why because I love you
Shy because I help few.
Why Gentle Ben and **** Nixon
maybe -
to go along with a certain beat.
I just want to savor
the past I guess
and think I did my best.


from the Frankie Avalon song “Why”
Big Virge Apr 2021
Now When It Comes To Blacks...
Who CLAIM To LOVE Black Clans...
When It Comes To Their Getting Cash...

I Suggest That You Follow THAT...
Before You Swallow Their Chat... !!!

As Well As How They Roll...
When It Comes To Their Dealings...
With.... WHITE Folks.... !!!

Because You See Some Cloak...
Like Vessels In Those Shows... !!!

That We ALL Follow... !!!

Now That Quote’s...

One That’s... DOPE... !!!

Just Like Poetic Flows...
That You Folks Should Follow CLOSE... !!!
But THIS Poem... Is NOT About Those... !!!

It’s Poetry That Speaks...
About Following Things CLOSELY...

Because.....
ARE Things As They Seem... ?

Just Like This NEED For Vaccines...
For This Thing... Covid-19... ?!?

And That’s NOT Some CONSPIRACY...
That’s Based On Some... " THEORY "...

It’s A QUESTION DON’T You See... ?!?

Or Are You Simply...
NOT Following Me... ?!?

What I’m STRESSING Is That...
Poetry From... BIG V...

Or The Connoisseur...
of MOSTLY Spoken Words... !!!
Writes Things That MAYBE...
You Should Follow Close... ?!?

Like How Legalities...
In The FDA And CDC...
Are Being Linked CLOSELY...

When It Comes To Money...
And Making Vaccines...
MANDATORY For Everybody...
In... New York City...
As Well As Yes Cali'... ?!?

Could This Next Be Seen...
Across The World GLOBALLY... ?

Now I’m Just Saying What IF... ?
NOT Alleging Anything... !!!
Or Accusing Anyone...
of Controlling Humans...

But What I Am SAYING...
Is That Following This...
Might PROTECT Your Kids... ?!?

People...

THINK About Things... !!!

BEFORE You’re FORCED Into Moves...
That May NOT Help You...
And Those Around You...
Who You Nurture From Youth...

WHAT You NOW Follow Closely... !!!
May Well Affect Our Human Breed...
In Ways NOT Good To See...
In Global Future Scenes... ?!?

AGAIN That’s Just A QUESTION...
Follow Where It Is That I’m Heading....
Because THIS Poems Bearing...
Hits Johns HARDER Then LEGENDS... !!!

Like LTJ... I Got...
LOGICAL Progressions... !!!

HOTTER Than Test Pressings...
of Verses In Sessions...
That I Really Cannot Mention...

Because of Their Vocal AGGRESSION... !!!
But These Words Have A Trend That’s Setting...

OBSERVE... But Pay CLOSE ATTENTION... !!!

To Current Movements And New Ventures...
Deals AND NEW... BIG Cash Adventures...
Like Those Made On... Legal Benches... !!!

And Bars Where Future Cards...
May Serve Humans Up Like... BONDS...

NO James Just World Nations Charged...
To Have Humans NOT Follow What Harks...

From Boardrooms Where Law Talk...
May Well Just... TEAR APART...
How We Humans SHOULD Follow Paths... !!!

Where... Greed And Control...
Are NOT Things That Take Hold...
of What Humans Believe To Be HEART... !!!

And I’m Really NOT Trying To Be Smart...
I’m Just Speaking And Using THAT Part...
of My Mind To Impart...

That... Y’all KNOW That... !!!
Our Futures Are On A Dark Path...
Cos' You Really Don’t Have To Look Far... !!!

New Tech’s Growing FAST...
When Robots Walk And DANCE... !?!
And What’s Being Asked...
May Well Become DEMANDS...

Because of The Path...
That This Covid Has Marked... !!!

But... ONLY If We...
... INDULGE COMPLACENCY...
When It Comes To Moves Made...
By These... BIG Companies... !!!

And Leaders Now Paid...
To Indulge Secrecy...

That Leads To Policies...
That Breed Forms of Disease...
Like This One That We Currently See... !!!

So......
  
Are You Folks Following Me... ?

These Are SERIOUS THINGS...
About Which I’m Speaking... !!!
That Will Affect Our Kids...
And What Futures May Bring...

So..... AVOID NASTY Stings...
That Some Infections Bring... !!!

Now Those Words Are A JOKE... !!!

If You Now Get The Zones...
To Where My Thinking Goes...

Where.....

Just Like What’s NOT Shown...
That People SHOULD Know... !!!

You Must Turn Down Dark Roads...
And Embrace The Unknown...

So That You DON’T Get Blown...
Off Your Course Like DUD Drones...
Because What You CHOSE...
Was To Act Like Some Clone... !?!

USE Your Time Locked At Home...
To Now USE Your Smart Phone...

To Sometimes Get To Know...
What Some Heads Are Saying...
Who’ve Had Certain Roles...
That They Chose To FORGO... !!!

Because...
Some Things That They're Revealing...

Are Things That... In...
These Days And Times...
Are Really NOT Wise...
To Be... Tossing Aside... !!!

If They Give BLATANT Signs...
of Our Lives Future Vibes... !!!

Of Course...

ONLY Those Who KNOW...
Will KNOW What Future Rolls....
of The Dice Are Set To SHOW... !!!

But We Need To Stay Advised...
of Laws Now Being Signed...
And Passed As Being RIGHT...

BEFORE They Pass Us By... !!!

So Should INFORM Our Minds...
of Plans Being Designed...
That May Well Decide...
Define And CONFINE...
Most Peoples’ Future Lives... !!!

Because These AREN’T Times...
For... Laughter And Smiles... !!!

Because Some Are CLEARLY NO Joke... !!!

So Folks...

... “ Follow Them Close “... !!!.
As the poem says folks, because as much as there's a lot of crazy conspiracies, there's a lot of very interesting, and more reasonable sources of information out there, that are passing on things about what's being talked about, and being planned for our futures...

It Can't ALL Be Lies ...
Mayukh Saha Mar 2018
My dreams,
A cacophony of foolish poetry,
Somedays in my sleep,
Flown by petals,
A red one
That carries me away,
From the silver hue of wintry earth,
To the land that hatches spring and autumn,
Not to far from the hut,
But far away from trains or cabs.
Near golden tree,
Is the spring field,
Where cuckoo's screech like cawing,
And crows cry like lark,
A folly place to travel at,
But one should know it,
That silence values it all.
The lakes houses shrimps and frogs,
That feeds water and froth.
Sky painted with wings and trodden feet,
But one should know it,
That feet travel high with joy and "lie".
My dreams,
Harks more,
Of changes that change
My dreams,
Swims me across to,
Where painters paint at lakes and sky,
Poets write lives free and frail,
As quill that sits no more,
But fly to find new horizon for "poets and wrecked" .
My dreams,
A trove of rant,
Where  words are colors,
and colors  are words,
Mind free and flesh swaying,
Painting and writing the incredible life,
Where cows have wings and,
Apples on woman's womb.
My dreams,
The unpleasant time's slice,
An scroll of spring that,
Dreams withhold,
and next to it the letter that brings,
Winter so dread and cold,
That carcasses do fly and wither.
Megan Sherman May 2017
Smouldering deep in soul's retreat,
A fire with Love's light replete,
In every single spirit true,
Blessed fires run through you,
Surging deep from soul to hands,
That warms and heals the children and the lands,
Cascading bright adorned by sparks,
For sacred fire my spellbound spirit harks.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
cŵn annwn:

     k-hhhh-n anne-wyn-

sue me,
the Welsh sometimes
hark

   like a smoker of
tobacco harks up
some excess phlegm

after a momentary lapse
into coughing -

harking -
   senile and bogus
English - and that spaghetti
h'american ęglish -

love by insult -
then again, not really:
love by teasing -

reign from above,
reign from below -
meeting in the middle
hinging on the letters -

not sure whether it's a K for the c -
or whether i'm invited to
use the Roman sigma -
the Gauls' cedilla -

         çŵn -

    ah, the Greeks, and their
orthographic aesthetics -
in the trinity of sigma -

                  ςŵν     αννłν -

i'm still for enforcing
the reintroducing the grapheme
into the Polish concept of
its pompous orthography
for the less literate
graffiti "artists"...

                and there are...
rz, cz, sz, ch    exceptions...
æ & œ...
   Adam & Eve,
    Orpheus & Eurydice -

  just to make it "easier" -
      the language could do with
some aesthetic
      improvements -
given it's so concerned
with orthography -

  and that's what you might
notice about the Polacks -
zero interest in metaphysics -
always the sort of
people concerned with
orthography...

no wonder Nietzsche called
us the equivalent
of the French, among the Slavs;

nice compliment.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2020
the pre anglo-saxon england:
this arthurian myths of:
   some celtic bride and some leftover
legionnaire regaining status:
or gaining status -

pre anglo-saxon england:
oh god... that cocktail of celts and
the welsh...
well: it's anglo-saxon england
that entertained the vikings...
and later the vikings that settled
in northern france...

the monstrous export of
the anglo-saxon republican export
from the h'american colonies...
a strict work ethic...
work hard...
em... how hard can you work
in an environment of
window-dressing...
of being a cat-walk exemplar...
work hard...
stacking supermarket shelves?
can you turn bulging machine
having:
the capacity for unforgiveable
spontaneity:
i figured: a poem a day
keeps the psychiatrist away:

the apples are rotting...
the bears are getting drunk on them...
staggering around senseless seem-like
in a cider tango...

a work ethic... where... mostly...
the ethic of work is: dasein -
a mere being there...
a presence of something that
doesn't discount the rubric of:
the long-stretch of time...
mannequins at work...
staging a cul de sac coup d'etat -
work ethic...
after a while competing
with machinery:
in a thespian despotism
and a d.j. roulette is not enough
for: me to spew rhyme after rhyme...

i would hardly want to disgrace
anyone at work...
lucky for me a dream i had
only yesterday:
i was chased by a faceless throng
of people who wanted
me to stand on a stage...
and persuade the "less initiated"
with new testament jargon:
i was invited to become
the last conventional:
the confidence man: an orator...

not a politician... as such -
not a rhetorician... not lying for
a purpose: more... lying for lying per se...
i rarely dream where i can bring
back images of the dream...

i honestly don't know what
the "whiteness" argument is with these
critical-race theorists...
these neo-marxists...
i latched / i eavesdropped on a conversation
and i'm: precisely here:
nowhere...

      work efficiency: baking too much
bread... what is... "work"...
it's certainly not something as
crystal clear as...
sitting through a le mans' episode
of 24h within the confines
of the marathons of a football match...

snooker nears the concern for
the spectator -
          
  but i'm just eavesdropping -
   i can't buy the new left from the west...
      there's just too much idiosynchronicity
that pulling it apart:
i want the ride on the roulette -
rotondo - ferris-wheel -
i just can't buy western socialism:
it's pretend hive for a season
mentality...
      a whim a vogue:
                 a fly rattling the purpose
of space abstracted to its erracting
flight confined to a cube...

i'm hardly: well... how doesn't it feel
being mistook for a german or a swede
in england...
then again only copper-skins
on edgware road selling quran pamphlets
asked me whether i was german...

i must say: i didn't mind that...
if they suppose i was russian...
i might have minded that...
               i am always this little boring
mr. incognito a retail
of non grata -
          my poverty of history:
i'll ***** myself around the world
never making it to grand h'america...
in england i'll...
honest to god:
gladly scoff the battered cod
and the chips come a friday...

          i don't need to see the sea:
ha: on the continent people had
to plan for summer and for trains
and transit... to... "get 'em away from
the mountains": no camping freaks
among them... lazing on the beaches
until the sun might turn into
crab-mouths nibbling on them...

come on though...
oysters?! that semi-solid sponge of
goo and glue managed to earn...
itself a rolling-pin's worth
of a shell...
well... the human brain is no better:
considering that it was hijacked
by a mushroom... come
the post-aquatic process
of redefining standing-up straight...

perhaps i own my bedroom:
this little guise for the world to understand:
but then one cat if attempting
to sleep in my bed
and the other in the armchair:
while i'm sitting reading
the pickwick papers
sitting against a cold radiator -

she doesn't like me teasing her hind
near: what is her tail:
my imaginary coccyx and her
cranium 69 psalm...
she harks at me...
she butchers me with boxing gloves:
i am expecting
******* sized up to mosquito replicas...
she draws blood from the index...
i smear the drawing of
blood onto her furry nose...

i was too young to have fallen
for such a love of ***
that would never translate
itself into a "love" that could
have us: find each other...
pairing and piling up with
a glad tiding of responsibilities...
i still remember
this "other" one as she took
me to a party just before
bloc party arrived
and a girl might inquire me
as to why i wore
a eisen-kreuz t-shirt...

               it must be self-explanatory:
i have yet to live the unforget-
-able life...
this colt this Abel this leisure of activity:
when pitiable Cain has to wade
through the tsunami of...
the roman gentleman:
forever out of context:
      there's some "inevitable" and there's
some "traditionalism"
       and there's PREJUDICE
against occupations requiring manual
labour: these befitting slaves...
mind you: retail trades have
come through the aeon as...
devoid of criticism or allowing
a self-awareness...
      
concerning now i am no high-brow
thinker:
i am ashamed to "think" to put
this fudge-packing to paper...
wow! no paper!
pixel digits of beelzebub's voyeurism...
i find my agony in
that: physical labour needs
to find its detail:
i can't find escape in the per
se of poetry from long ago...

i need to rise up i need to rise
with aa riddle: to riddle the princesses
with my own lost joy, joke & rhyme...
butchers' pressures for
*******...
the detailed art of the inconvenient
**** stressed with:
ghosts macabre:
if the niqab was addressed
by some variation of: Coco Chanel:
the long white 'un...

i'd love to see a niqab paraded
in white...
               i was the con-stipated...
i was the con-findance artist being
chased by a face clot of bass riddling base?
who's o.k. who's not this new:
pristine vogue of perfect?
my shattered little blessed purpose
insignia of g'aah g'aah:
better: blah?
no reiteration within the confines
of nervousness -
i will not seek any variation
of new york...
i will not make conquest
of coastline h'america...
give me my mundane suppose
euorpa and
some ******* mediocre "supposed"
teasing anti-adventure fly-over...
grey-the-grit-grey-first-born...

i the summoned echo of Abel...
while Cain has his pop-tarts
in the h'american
celebration of serial killers...
and: mother siberia welcomes!
oh god... who needs them shackled
up... let's just drop them...
into a geography that might
expand their minds!
wouldn't it be... fair?
no new africa this new Sib?!

it would account for the moon-goal:
ha! mongrel / 'ongol...
very funny: as english always is...
when it can be tested
with phoneticism...
and a dickensian sam weller's: gadanie:
spreschen...
best kept patriotic: nervous angle...
no new blue: all old blanche... ha ha...
nervous ******* twinkle...
borrowed bliss... no north 19th century...
ha ha...

  but it's still a chapter or two where:
the dickensian narrative sort of:
left me: as it left him...
just pass the time...
as every novel does:
line the lineage...
mould - just enough dough
or words for the readers
to: ahem... "mishap"
a tumbleweed moment...

execution of the antithesis of
"buddhist" posturing:
not finding a cushion to not think...
read a book in an iron maiden
fixation:
play the freely available russian...
i will never come across
the intricacies of h'america from
a postcard...
i will never make it to iowa:
iowa per se...
outside of the federal export
narrative of a myth of a
nation-project...

   i want to see the sort of
h'america the rest of the coastline
decided to **** on...
but i've already seen st. petersburg
from the perspective of:
great *** and no one ever wanted
to listen to bob dylan...
there was a necessary stipend
of reading a bulgakov...
         which i did...
          while moscow and metallica was...
let's just forget it:
i find the most pristine ideal
of a day...
come my little solo rummaging
of the woods come the raj spices
of autumn...
come these ancient woods
that will never borrow acorns...

i went back a side-step back
toward the ***** of abraham marx -
and i came back:
trojan projects:
mass graves of Ypres:
deserved by the germans...
have these mass graves...
but a solitary statue of...
at least the achilles heel of "st." michael...
will you not dare to claim
the laughter of Ares?
then succumb to a "saint" and michael...

**** your incongruity -
i tend to make an event of walking out
from this house
with an apple in tow...
and like some philosopher...
leaving enough flesh prior to the core...
before ackowledging
the possibility of the magic
trick being towed...

i can eat the whole apple and
there's no cider coming from the seeds...
write the metaphor of the bible
anew:
apples are not new to the riddled east...

ah! ah! ah ha ha ha ha ha!
the riddled east!
give 'em the nocturnal flesh
of a phlegm compact fig...
  give them the dates...
the oranges... the lemons...
         who was moses to give them
the apple?
last time i heard apples originated
in kazakh territory:
which was picked up
with the mongol migration...
along with the beijing plethora
of dumplings...
  
england is still far far away...
ready to make it's surf exploration first...
thirst for moon in north h'america...
first come first served:
last time i heard:
iceland didn't beat them...
because... ha!              ah ha ha ha!

first i played a recorder...
cheap plastic...
no... there was no mention of a flute...
i was english i was i never never...
but it's not like...
i had the vantage point...
of the english...
since no one really wanted
to live on iceland...
england prior to the anglo-saxons...
yes... these:
leftover peoples: troll...

ich muss "troll"...
      shwemme-affe-contra-hund:
scheissegrubestapelregalneu!
   ich: ja... westen bankrottberliner:
mein ebenfalls: kaiserbrötchen!

one might simply tire of pandering
to the germans...
one simply can...
as one might excuse oneself to teasing
the mongols: via the russians...
so... it's a no man's land...
through and through...

   i.e. where's what middle with
the middle of the east
that's also: "york" and the yacht and
the islamic mystics: rumi from afghanistan from
the 13th century or otherwise...
the senior draft?
no... solipsism adventure: primo!
the bangladeshi are slaves
when cicero had to speak: proper...
necromancy for the believe-ability
of the existence of arabs...
camel jockeys...
            the nobel routine handlers...
shadow rubric oopses -

there is not need for a coupling for
communism with Jainism -
when the doggy-mom does her bit
and the thief from Camden Town
does his: leash to lynch...
empires the metaphors:
the peoples the jack 'o' cracks:
pancakes... and the littering
to street with...
all thoe romanian / bulgarian
****** you didn't ****...
because ****'s son slashed the broker
on the northern duaghter
you...   hindered...
  stroked bloke & towed
fiddled barrels...
   like some "ilford"...
          
the "solution" is...
all tongues but no spanners...
the "solution" is...
all tongues but hammers...
              my best inclined: fugitive
of a body... this fetish toad-ape
a colour figurative
of imitating traffic heed...

my best blotched narcoleptic
blond-Fe....
ironing suitor...
    ape gesticulating
supposed applause...
for the audience to cwy away
an about: a'goo...

               cicero minded: might have...
"slaves" take up the deeds of
aesops in the deeds of the row-men...
or the same-ethno-minded:
belittled brain-custrd-fudgings...
A                           A                       A
my exploited nuo lambda...

i wriggle with a rare
rage most impossible...
i tinge these letters:
the spice list for a karma sutra
of
outdates the necessities
of the new testament as:
any new sort of investment:

didn't you know?
the serenity of a composition...
bach will never ride
a donkey:
among the four horsemen...
there was one with death: implicit...
towing a donkey... riding: slow...
and it's not that i might make
bach pop: or propping up...
i have no romance with
some borrowing of
"amore" of italy:
               pizza pardons?!
i quite like the tenderness
of the "in-between-bits" of
liver... stendhal!
the rubric details:
                         i oppose a suggestion
that something could be claimed
to make monstrosity
of sketching forward this...
ahem... modern...
man...

"we": i found it very much necessary
for the modern man to talk
this borrowing from nuance...
this bowing-down
burrowing:
thorough.. through...
my long lost asp and bulgar...
the sort of exotica that
the british never tasted:
it was Bulgaria that was not...
not ever... Haiti...
and because of... what?
white's what?

       middle of "my" jerusalem?
i can't fathom a... "middle yeast"...
from a region that doesn't
need beer...
ergo and "ergo"...
the riddled east...
troll the overt-simplification...
that let's me toll up stupid
and there's no necessary
i.q. quest -
yes.... the pay-back for
toying with both tourist
and the cricket teams / themes...

my last middle...
it's an yeast! a brain-borrow:
born bread-winner"
riddled "eat"!
oh ****...       tiny tony
and that major SHA-SHA!
Big Virge Mar 2020
So ... Who Do You See … ?
When You Look In … " Your Mirror " … ???

Someone COMPLETE Or Someone Whose Glimmer …
Isn't Quite As Bright As You Might Like … ?!?

Now M.J. Has Passed ... His Song Still HARKS … !!!
Like White Does SHARKS With Racist Hearts ... !!!!!

Ms. America Now Has Caused Some FROWNS … !!!
Because Her Figure And Colour Has Triggered …

IGNORANT Fingers To Suggest Their Mirrors …
Would Rather NOT SEE … " Asian Beauty " … !!!!

REPRESENT …. " THEM " …. !!!!!

... "She's not American !" ...

Were Messages Sent To The Internet ...

Some Seemed SURPRISED … ?
So I'm Asking …… " WHY " …… ?!?!?

Their Mirror … " REFLECTS " …
As It's … ALWAYS DONE … !!!

A LACK of RESPECT … !!!
For Anything BEYOND Their Own Kingdom …

A Kingdom Built On IGNORANCE, GUILT And Dollar Bills … !!!

While Reflections SHOW ...
That All That's American … Is NOT GOLD ... !!!!!

In Fact … TRUTH Be Told …. !!!
They're ... Kind of BOLD ...
To Be Leaving Their Home ….
To Impose Controls On Foreign Zones ...

When It's CLEAR They Adhere To Racist Jeers …
Because of FEARS That ... Their Nations NEAR …
To People of Colour ... Clapping Like THUNDER … !!!!!
In Support of Each Other Instead of Buying HUMMERS … !!!!!

Does Your Mirror Reflect An Ignorant Head … ?!?

Or … One Who Checks Themselves For DEFECTS … ?

The Type That FLY In Blinkered Minds ...
Who REFUSE To See Who They ... TRULY BE …. !!?!!

A Vulnerable Soul Who Lacks CONTROL … !!!
When It Comes To Facing Up To … IGNORANT Stunts … !!!
They Pull For FUN That Just ARENT'T FUNNY … !!!!!
The Type That DUMMYS ... Wrap Up Like MUMMYS … !!!

Because They're Glimmer's For … DIM and DIMMER …  !!!!!

I'm NO Dave Schwimmer Or Olympic Swimmer ... !!!

But I Reflect Like Mirrors …
Because I'm A THINKER Who DOESN'T Wear BLINKERS … !!!!!

Because Those Who DO ...
Have TAINTED Views of How They Move …

Because of ISSUES ...
They Refuse To Remove From Their Bathrooms … !?!

When They Look At THEMSELVES In The … " Light of Day " ...
Instead They PRETEND That They're …. " OKAY " …. !!!

Girls Get Made Up … Fellas Run A Muck … !!!
And DON'T Give A THOUGHT To What They IGNORE … !!!!!

Internal WARS ...
That Seep From Their Pores …
Kind of Like …. " SAW " … !!!

Which Is NOT GOOD … !!!!!

Broken Mirrors In View …
Locked In … "DARK Rooms" ... !!!
Cos' You … LIED To YOU … !!!!!

See Some Mirrors Consume An Abundance of GUILT … !!!!!
In Souls Who Wilt ... In The Presence of TRUTH …

Unable To Shift What Lies Within …
The GUILT FILLED Things That TOLL BELLS RING … !!!!!

Because of SINS With Which … They LIVE … !!!

Their Mirrors Are CRACKED And That's A FACT … !!!!!

What They See Is CLEAR … !!!
If Somewhat … " SMEARED " ... !!!

Because They DENY What Lies Inside …
Their Body And Soul And INNER Mind ….

How They Roll Is A Story UNTOLD … ?!?
Because They Choose To Hide ... From REALITY'S Bite … !!!!!

Looking In Their Mirrors …
SOMEHOW With BLIND EYES ... !?!

BELIEVING ... They Are Winners …
Which Is Just ... ANOTHER LIE … !!!!!!!!

They HAPPILY Deny …
They'd Rather Not … Ask Why …
They Lie To Fuel Their Life …

Maybe ... Because Their Pride …
Makes Them Feel That They're Alright ... !!!!!!
My Mirror's FILLED With Lines That Prove To Me … " I'm Fine " …

NO Tainted Views Or Thoughts Confused … ?!?
Cos' I Choose To Refuse ...
Having My Issues Consume My Moods … !!!!!
Because of Moves I Chose To Use That Were Not Shrewd … !!!

NOPE … That's NOT ME … !!!!

My Mirror's CLEAN And Reflects CLARITY … !!!!!

Some See … UGLY … ?!?
While I See BEAUTY ...
And ….. " HUMILITY " ……

SUPERFICIAL Glows Are Now … " ON SHOW " …
In TOO MANY Homes And TOO MANY Bones ... !!!!!

The Man in MY Mirror Has Learned To Simmer ...
And OPEN My Eyes To A … " World of Rhymes " … !!!
That REFLECT My Life And ... Others In Sight …

WITHOUT Letting Pride Become What Defines …
The Way I Write About … Peoples' Lives … !!!

It Is What It Is NO Tricks or Gimmicks … !!!

Just Lyrical Fitness …
That Flows With A … " Slickness " … !!!

My Mirror Bears Witness …
To How I GROW With This ... !!!!!

SKILL That Now Lingers ...
Within My LONG Fingers … !!!!!

Like I Said ….
I'm NO Swimmer or Olympic Winner … !!!!!
But I'm PROUD To Be A THINKER … !!!

Whose Question Is … THIS …

What Is It You See When You Look In …

…. " Your Mirror " ….  ?
We all look into them at some point, however, the question is...

When you see yourself in the mirror, are you honest about what you see, that reflects who you TRULY are ... ???
DKN Nov 2023
The day has been long
And the toil has proven hard
But in the end, all for which we have labored,
in whose harvest we placed great hope,
was indeed fruitful
While there were losses and betrayers
We kept firm the lesson in our hearts and minds
and it has guarded us all this time
Even as we bid thee a goodnight
know that just as dark falls heavy on lands over yonder
and similarly harks the call of light come the morn
so must you cherish hope in barren times
that the end is far from thee
for after darkness, a new light ever is foreseen

— The End —