"munificently" poems
brushstrokes, some broad,
some as narrow as one fine hair,
are often red
scarlet and scattered
across the canvas, splattered
against a crumbling wall, where,
for no rhyme or reason, the artist
may place a wilted wreath of flowers,
pallid, yellow
horses and people, babes
and the ancient not spared
their share of the crimson cream
the painter heaped munificently
on their mangled remains
Paris, Beirut, Yola yet to be painted
but there is still time: in its abundance
someone else will need only lift a hand
to spill the ubiquitous blood
our palettes do own other hues
black for charred crosses, white,
the lightning streaked screaming sky
but none so plentiful as the red
none so plentiful as the red
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
i went about the down and cleand own b yth ec l ea n
lithe bony bay ribbing the asphalt skin chuckTaylors'
and by and by the astute angle of the seas daunting
tailored skinny notch a grommet of sun ****** through
the scaly tremble of wispy ***** clouds spunting and breatheing
casual volumes of aromatic fluid bumbling out their tired
mouths and ******** on the lax pavement some of the heavy
drops "sPloosh!' wenting the ocean did and going "
whOosh ! " the waves are munificently scrambling all about the rough timber
of the agile dock sitting sorely all alonesome and fickle
so i gave it my feet
and wattled to its precocious face
and slid into the big
blatant crumble
: THE WATER
Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 4:09 PM UTC
Enchantingly nonchalantly unfurling before
blind eyes merely able to gape in awe
ephemeral smithereens of expanding plenum,
the abyssal pervasive womb encompassing all
that exists, was is and will be, nurturing
emptiness with energy for nothingness not
to be. Swirling particles coalescing to breed
unfathomable incandescent spheres
radiating blistering lights in waves, hurtling
everywhither as beacons celebrating glory
of omnific productions till mirific explosions
scatter pieces crisping to bond, under laws
of attraction relentlessly spinning, rotating
an elliptic orbit at a distance, showered in eons
by debris enclosing drops of lymph, finely
elegantly tuned through evanescent time, to allow
the esoteric birthing of rare creatures gazing,
curious and inquisitively reflecting, recognising
mother does not contemplate repetition nor
perfection, as she haphazardly reveals inestimable
varieties, offspring of sweeping sublime
creativity with which she munificently shares
a comprehensive consciousness inspired,
suggesting the child indeed could grasp
the extent of infinity
despite blind eyes.
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 2:09 AM UTC
Clear the room before we get brave,
Set aside our pride to enter a new world of our own.
Guileless I lay strapped in your arms
Helplessly we wish for this moment never to end…
Heuristic we penetrate each others body’s
With an endless cry
I whisper to you,
My love.
Sharing our souls with one another in a sea of passion.
I lower my head as my lips touch your neck
My teeth penetrates your flesh with a risible whine.
I can taste the lust dripping of your face.
A sleepless sound enters your heart
Our eyes fixed on each other’s hearts
The truth of your sweat leaks again
Hanging above my head like a guillotine
Awaiting to behead the broken hearted end we head for.
There is no such thing as “the end” with you…
There are morals in this life I would rather not live with.
Is my mind losing itself on your beauty again?
The moon light falls munificently on your lips
The same callous scars from the truth above
Down beneath the sheets where the skies seem brighter
A moan is stuck in your throat
Is my fantasy becoming a reality?
Love survives the pervasive attack
I kiss you before my scars show
I take you away,
I’ll take you away
To a safe place of our own
Together we fight for unaccepted love
Chased by the pain the goddess of reality
Rumbling pain over turned page..,
Our new beginning…
But
I close my eyes which have lost their color in battle
Blind! To see the true color of love…
I’d rather be blind…
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 4:17 AM UTC
Why I am an Atheist......
This is the way,
That is the way,
For all ages we cry,
Often lost in those minced glib,
Strangled to our souls death.
Why should I tread these 'Ways'- ,
In my paralyzed (pedestrian) state,
When all 'ways' are to that - If
It Meets at heavenly abode?
If I harbor not -
Unsolicited darkly thoughts,
And exhume all my vile acts,
For whom should I solicit -
A for fending God?
Every time, in eons,
A new God is born;
In whose comprehension,
He dwells?
In whose delight -
He charms!
And in whose folly -
He succors?
Not all the Gods blesses you,
Or resides in their crowns-
To wipe your tears,
Of toils and perils!
None can ever be at rest,
With life's gauntlet let.
No dead souls by their wont,
Tells us the truth-
Of impending days- or
To one who awaits.
Often, whose God dies young?
Brings no mellifluous life to breath.
A God, if lives within us,
How munificently,
He Strides.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 2:25 AM UTC