"impinge" poems
I see you in my dreams..
Yes dreams.
I mean they used to be nightmares
But that little girl who used to have fears?
The fear of you coming after her again
The fear of you taking what was truly hers from the beginning
The fear of you hurting her again?
That girl is dead!
Who killed her you may ask?
You.. *******
See you took away my forgiving heart
The heart that did not believe in revenge
I used to think an vengeance was a *****
And breeds anger, causing the past to impinge on the future
But that was until you came into my life
And took away my dignity, my pride..
My youthful exuberance
Now I'm not that naïve little girl you hurt..
I am like Judas 'la Scarriott
The man who sold Jesus
Man, I am now as brutal as Satan himself
Call me anti-christ if you may
And you are my slave.
You are like Thanks-Giving turkey stuck in the gist of my throat
And I?
**** I need to puke!
Who do you think you are heh?
A boss? A king?
Living by "This is a man's world" ?
Going around taking what doesn't belong to you?
Well meet me, I am the Devil
And you are just my spawn
I'd call you a son of a ***** but ***** my nikka?
is an understatement for whoever it is that bore you
Entlek you too are a *****
Remember when I said "Please" and you said "No" ?
That was the day, man, was the day
You killed the last grain of light I had within me
I now embody hatred and evil within me..
I now live by the timeless creed "revenge is sweet"
I am like the shaman, "That's a cute word for witch"
And shamans do not forgive..
I shall seek vengeance, get a knife
A gun even..
So ***** You better watch you ***** back..
And sleep with one eye open
Because my name is Thuto Gaasenwe..
... And I'm coming for your ***
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
and as we are "the spirit"
what are we falling
so LOVEY-DOVEY'
in love with?
and as i am "the spirit"
then anything not addressed to my spirit
is not addressed to me
and as i am a polite person
i simply do not notice it
WHY COURT HEARTBREAK
IN THE NAME OF "COURTING"?
and as we notice that the political world
we are in is impinging fiercely
upon us
why do we also impinge upon eachother with our
lovey-doveyness?
if i see the
"most beautiful girl in the world"
does this naturally lead to me to
"wanting her to be mine
and mine alone"
knowing full well that she is beautiful
because of her love for everyone
and that my doing the "lovey-dovey" on her
would be at best distracting
and at worst harmful even destructive?
NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
let us be ......rational, human and humane
LOVE MEANS .....NURTURING
so
LET US LEARN.....
WHAT......"NURTURING" MEANS
Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 2:47 PM UTC
So silly of me
I am putting on a good front
numb, drowning in the sea
a lullaby and a wish good night
Lying on the bed listening to slow murmurs
watching the wind blow through the old tree
hear the howling, banging on the tin roof
Cold winter afternoon
hiding in disguise
mind in a daze
pleasantly my demise
relish the sweet sound
the creaking of a door, somewhere in another room
soft foot steps on floor in the moon-lit room
A melody I hum
a song from me to you
a solo dance with no audience
the sense of content from being alone
a smile that no once sees
a secret whispered to the empty house
The sight of dandelions
spin me in the past
picking flowers for my mother, on a hot summer's day
screaming, crying, scratching from the hives
it was worth it just to see her smile for a while
Accidentally impinge a memory
seeing an old face on stranger
the smallest though so valuable
sending me into trance
So silly of me
I am putting on a good front
numb, drowning in the sea
a lullaby and a wish good night
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 7:08 PM UTC
A seedling tiny of good remembered still
transformed uniform in vastness wavering
roots small of succor turn trunks huge sprouting
back from joys earthy,seeking skies many above
rejoined both, re rooted in mother earth eagerly,
hands and feet merged indistinguishably stoic
in an existence pure, to one being impervious.
a sapling soft now time twisted,gnarled,knotted
to an entity unique, massive of heart fused in soul
then just a being existing simply as one ordained so
by time!
sweet birds in me sing
on me your kids swing
around me in a ring
the gods now impinge
to them maidens cling
for a nice manly thing
under my cool wing
do elders advices bring
I amidst stand like a king
impassive to everything!
A thought in my mind as I see the ancient tree in my village."Hemmara" in my native language of Karnataka, a state in India, means literally an ancient and massive tree.Normally and in some mysterious way this invariably will be a Banyan tree in the village center which has its roots growing out of the earth and joining the branches and branches stooping down and joining the earth to become roots! Around the tree over time idols of innumerable Gods spring up,Elders convene and advise the folk,kids play and village belles flock to pray for a good husband!!
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 5:40 PM UTC
the neighbor's hens ventured into my backyard
and they've deposited the odd calling card
the path out the back has lime hillocks on it
which have proved not to be such a hit
the neighbor and I had a Mrs Harris and a Mrs Higgs
we discussed the hens not so polite depositing within my digs
she said the hen house door had fallen off its hinge
that is why the hens did so impolitely impinge
her hubby the local long arm of the law
later this afternoon shall repair the unattached door
the venturing wont escape custody
they'll be locked up for their impropriety
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 9:48 AM UTC
Here I am, penning verses that paint vibrant images
Expressing my yearning through ostentatious displays
But do these efforts impinge upon -- even in the slightest --
The twisted fate we have been endowed?
I do not like to think this is all for naught
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
Looking through my window
as the world goes floating by
a welcoming distraction
to the view in my mind's- eye
Cascading shafts of sunlight
impinge upon the pane
deflecting painful memories
of my endless pouring rain
Looking through my window
at people passing by
biting down upon my lip
to stop me shouting..why?
A group of happy children
playing down below
innocence and laughter..
..it seems so long ago
Looking through my window
longing to be free
looking through my window
is this my destiny?
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 7:08 AM UTC
why can't you see
the stars amidst the darkness
or the iridescence after the skies
spit fierce rain across the earth
the tranquility after death,
that split second of serenity
before a last breath is exhaled
the reverberation of laughter
amid the noisy street
or the familiar twinkle of lights
in the midst of overcrowded cities
why can't you see
the dewdrops atop marigolds
after a savage storm
or the picturesque lush of rose bushes
after cold winter nights
those awe-inspiring thoughts
that impinge you during sleepless hours
or the sunlight shining through your scars
open your eyes,
my dear,
for the world is as beautiful
as you.
-m.j.a
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
It takes on deaths horrible form thereunto,
Breaching the seas pensively askew;
Spun brutally from troubling winds of false accord,
Ignored by expression but surely explored.
O 'tis madness, voices beat savagely in my head,
Upon quiet of night as insanely they wilfully imbed.
Through mortal fear I am awakened,
There's nowhere pleasant to run 'tis my chastened.
Of life's despairs nor demons wrathful hold,
Hast thereof nightmares foretold.
In the chilling air, killing heedful wisdoms impaired,
Had I faltered, I'd been sadly unprepared.
Pressed onwards I could only dream,
With care it'd be a future supreme.
Deep in my bleeding thoughts I tried to grasp it,
Yet every brutal bound 'twas likely unfit.
Ah, let evil echo through my disrupting mind,
The faces, that blushed mostly unkind.
A hideous desire inexplicable, entombed from within,
Hastily it beckons thereunto an original sin.
The voices, whose horrid duty I deplore,
Of the old vast despairs it will implore.
But alone I am 'tis surely surpassing a realm of rage,
And all I seen, mattered naught offstage.
Regrettably in the valley of despair I have always lived,
Therefrom I am truly a weltered child deprived.
Onto the rough cobble stones bloodied and quite torn,
That tragic wind, caught in hells uproar forlorn.
A sea of red, kept in an eternal twinge,
Through to agonies I'd impinge.
Ah how they weep, the mystic fools they weep,
In fake smiles these too rustle forth and reap.
Though I'm stirred I cannot follow,
O'er endless toil I as wallow.
Unto violent passions, soaring in tempting extremes,
Of pastures buried, a life in poor redeems.
For nothing concerted I came thereafter seeking,
Every question asked it begged a haggard beseeching.
Thus in a dim labyrinth of lies I found some solace,
Here in the direst valley of despair it's my disgrace.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
There are no terrorists here,
Says the classic bold type,
On the FullScap paper,
In the folder on the dusty desk,
Of the Satellite police station in Isiolo.
The drilling rigs will make no difference to,
The cows or the goats or the lives of the people,
Who do not live here.
The construction does not impinge on farms,
And will be manned by machines not capable of dying,
So there is no need to worry,
The oil will be distributed fairly,
According to the percentages,
Agreed to in the constitution.
The matter of people living
In Isiolo does not come into this.
There are no people here.
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 8:30 AM UTC
the every day
things of life
can invariably impinge on
our time to write
were we not immersed
in household chores
or going to a place of employment
there'd be more hours
for jotting down a stylish verse
when our tight schedules allow
the opportunity
we have the quill
out ranging
over the unfilled vellum
those many ideas which collect
inside our inspired heads
due to so few minutes
being readily available
we've still managed
an explanatory rendition
on squeezing
a line or two in
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 9:18 PM UTC
I have been expressive in words
people call me taciturn, so I am
legerdemain. Words callow I manipulate.
I am the adroit teaser of and with words.
I am importunate loser when words summon
hate or a fear.
You sit unerringly on the border of words.
You write and your writing haunts into strange
dreams of oblivion. Your words impinge upon
senses and soul and I exclaim: what is poetry?
the poem unfurls in corridors, dank and soulless.
What soul does poetry have?
Narrative blindness. Words express movements,
in time's warp. Clouded thoughts, one day the exuberant
poem will die.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
Old friend, quiet lover,
a silent bond like no other,
please let me know it's alright.
For, I find something's awry!
And no matter how I might try,
my thoughts impinge on my sight.
Old friend, quiet lover,
limpid soul beyond this cover,
please give me a reason to fight.
A whisper comes across
of all the time I have lost:
"Why plead for these things, so trite?"
Alas, as I turn my attention
past this reflection --
I find it's your face, alight.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 11:34 PM UTC
just this time,
this last time,
i will stand in this rain,
my head towards the sky,
arms wide open, set to fly
i will let these drops impinge upon my soul,
gently stroke my skin as they fall
i will let the sound of this rain fill my ears,
until this rain is all i hear
because,
just this time,
this last time,
i will let thee
erode me.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
Now I beat my brow, and how.
She wrote this on her arm in the poetry workshop.
Poetry? That will never amount to apple crumble- a mumble, from a passer by.
Whose eye twinkled. Answer me. Whose eye twinkled?
It spake of the forlorn and well worn wristbands from picnics with wistful bands.
Coherent thoughts in liquorice all sorts
Amount
In the end
To noughts.
And crosses
on hot buns in the local bakery.
That one's spelt bread, b-r-e-a-d.
A whole army fed,
On the pep of a rally to charms,
Sound the warning alarms.
******** alert.
On the winding country roads,
Squishing toads
***** nilly.
What's that?
Too tired to think?
Two-tyred, so blink
“And you're there in a jiffy”
Said the giraffe,
For the laugh.
There are children there
And also, every which and where,
Boy do they stare
Unaware,
Without the slightest inkling of the remorse
That we learn to impinge in our gaze
An apology for existence,
“Just coincidence”
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
Light on my eye.
sunlight's glinting rays exposing rainbows
rippling
shards of lucency impinge my visions cells
prismatic spears waypoints
to atomic levels of our universe
colours translate to frequencies percieved
the pervading energy a maze of tunnels scintillating ,
all is a thundering ubiquitous rumble, the voice of god? the thought distracts and manifests as it and gone.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 4:40 AM UTC
I was just a caterpillar
Eager to turn
Unsure what to do to make it happen
I’d sample all sorts of leaves
Wanting them to have an impinge on my existence
Nibble here, devour there
so voracious without a care
Just Eager to turn.
All along I thought I was pink
Turns out it was all black and white
That phase was just a preparation
For my true purpose
All those struggles
Bending branches, forcing travels
Fighting my way through the chaotic lands of green battle
It was all a grand rehearsal.
Then one day without notification or indication
The real show came to play
In trance I start to weave in beautiful silk
a case, a home, a place to think, I pause…
For the first time I had stopped my crawling.
I cover myself without thought,
No more pondering on why, how, where, when and what.
I did it alone
I'm sure of that
A chrysalis was being given to me
That’s how I see it
For I never even knew how to make it
I never knew IF I’d make it
I’d always worry about if I would break it
Not knowing what that IT even was
Then it happened.
Simple in the end though intricate in steps
I stopped everything
And rested my caterpillar head.
Clung to my home metamorphosing
It was there I saw my heaven
I saw other creations
And found out secrets about divination
I saw why I had done what I did
I knew what was to come-just a bit.
Three months later,
I emerged slowly
Each day a part of a new life came to glory
A transformation
A surprising revelation
Having not an expectation
I evolved to a butterfly-human
Oh my, the new view is a blessing.
5th, July, 2014 5:02 pm
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC
SHE IS MY SMILE IN EVERY EMOTION THAT I GIVE OUT
SHE IS MY SKY, WERE HER WEATHER CONDITIONS IMPINGE ON ME WHETHER I LIKE IT OR NOT, SHE IS SUNLIGHT ON MY SEA
IT’S A CRIME WHEN EVER SHE IS NOT AROUND, IT AN ENDLESS MAZE WHEN EVER I DON’T TALK TO HER CAUSING ME TO MISS HER MOST OF THE TIME
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 9:26 AM UTC
Seek your inner-power;
focus your mind.
Immerse yourself in the sublime
quiet that hides in the moment.
Align your breathing
with your heart’s beating.
Settle the motion of thought
into the center, your core,
the seat of your soul.
Let time drift...
let go of each phenomenon that may
impinge upon the journey within —
you will become only
your breath and
the beat and
the quiet murmur
of your heart’s longing...
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
Yes, I am your friend
only insofar
you don't impinge on my self-interest
or step on my little toe.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 7:34 PM UTC