"obtained" poems
Kashmir Delirium
Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we,
For each act of benevolence shown to us.
Your gilded sweet words describing,
The beauty of Kasmir, land and people.
Mention in books and talks of it's riches,
Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth.
The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir,
Treasure of resources in every sphere.
To elevate each aspect, our wish for life,
As every acre of this land is worth millions.
Full of treasures and recreational value,
Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers.
The outside world's view is so limited,
Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty.
Mentioned in world forums and organizations,
But what of the goal of giving us freedom?
What has The UN established in our name?
To measure the pain and anguish we bear,
At the hands, of our supposed benefactors.
The saviours who has us fractured.
But in reality they train their enforcers,
In the art of creating oceans of tears.
The red blood now hidden in camouflage,
The spent shells now gathered and hidden.
The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams,
Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists.
Joint conferences to address personal interests
Dialogues that never address the root issues.
Just the formalities and no sympathy,
For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals.
The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated,
More augmentation of the security forces.
For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy,
Walk this land, you know as beautiful.
Religious leaders will teach you political artistry,
Sermons full of ambiguity and guile.
Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display,
Political apologists give great lessons.
Religion and religious ethnicity are tools,
That keep minds and bodies in total check.
Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb,
As promises are forgotten once office is obtained.
When writing of this succulent beautiful land,
Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices.
This land is being stripped of worldly treasures,
And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily.
The best of nation is the inhabitants,
Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
In fair Verona where Will set the scene
Belle Fortune moves the markers up and down.
Two households both alike in dignity
Fiercely compete for fear of losing ground.
When Juliet saw Romeo at the dance
Events were set in motion that, perchance,
Would see fair Juliet as our Romeo’s bride
but ultimately result in her suicide.
With Tybalt and Mercutio both dead,
And Capulet and Montague estranged.
Young Paris sought fair Juliet to wed
not knowing of her loss of maiden-head.
Romeo was banished for his crime,
a sin for which a peasant would have died
Their two households, joined because they wed,
remained divided by their foolish pride.
Summer’s fierce heat shimmered in the air,
oppressive in the absence of a breeze.
With Friar Lawrence’s help, Romeo’s girl played dead,
as if struck down by some unknown disease
Romeo , in Mantua, heard that his Juliet
Lay dead amongst the sleeping Capulets.
A draught of deadly poison he obtained
So they might sleep together once again.
When Romeo met Paris at her tomb,
Words led to swordplay, leaving Paris dead.
Would not the world have been a better place
if Romeo had kept it sheathed instead?
Unshriven, Romeo drank the poison down-
the only son of Montague now dead.
Perchance just then fair Juliet revives
Bereaved, she took his Dirk to bed instead.
Authorities, arriving at the scene,
could only mourn a brace of kinsmen lost.
Capulet and Montague were reconciled
Their amity bought at a fearful cost.
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Permission to speak, I am the ally of the silenced and unheard.
I am the noise you can't shake.
Two sharp points like the accents I carry on my tongue.
I slither and squirm as I observe what they have done to you.
It's a tragedy what they think of you and how arrogantly they use you for self proclaimed prophecies.
No! I am not that! I yell loudly, but only the echo replies.
Incarceration, deportation, degradation, gentrification some of the words that burn as I spit them out.
False ideologies are accepted as realities ignoring the facts.
I am not illegal and you don't have the right to label or decide.
I am not a criminal, never was.
Don't obstruct my academic path, I will jump each and every obstacle one by one.
I was born free, you labeled and shackled me with lies and hatred but I broke loose.
With my forked tongue I battle your double sided knife.
I am not content with the destructive pattern that has emerged with your avarice.
I will not **** for you and I will not die in vain.
My snake like tongue has no mercy and will not cease until I see dignity and peace obtained.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 6:40 AM UTC
Practice is a really great master
Who will impart great education
By canceling impending disaster
It will bring a happy elevation
By making growth come faster
It will result in a standing ovation
Everything is by practice gained
Nothing is by lethargy obtained
A king is born if he has strained
By taking action one by one
Our path gets definitely cleared
If we regard work as a great fun
Brand new horizons are discovered
If we hard-work under the Sun
By God Himself we will be cheered.
M V VENKATARAMAN
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 4:35 AM UTC
Gather 'round children
To hear the story of
Obsessionman
Our extremely watchful protector
Bitten by a radioactive trumpeter at a young age
He obtained the super power
Of constantly thinking about the moment he was bitten
His power only grew stronger with time
When people told him his power was ****
His power grew
When people mentioned the toxicity of his radioactive waste
His power grew
And when he encountered his arch nemesis; the trumpeter
Everything grew
You should've seen how fast he flew
He soared quicker than
All the ******** he had once considered important
But when flying at such high velocities
Civilians become interlopers
And interlopers become super villains
Which is no laughing matter
Aquaman went comatose
And Comaman got aqua toes
Sacrifices we were willing to make
But then God intervened
And Obsessionman ***** Him
Which we all agreed was kind of ****** up
Decidedly so...
I mean...
What can you say about your hero when he ***** God?
But that's the beauty of Obsessionman
All he requires from us
Is our disgust, indifference, and hatred
To feed his strength
Until the day he is powerful enough
To fulfill his destiny
And face his arch nemesis
The trumpeter
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
Maturity©
What is maturity?
Is it knowing that tomorrow will be a better day?
Is it having made all the mistakes until there are no more to be made,
Is it sitting in front of a computer playing games with your inner child and it being okay?
Is it a sense of knowing that the world is unfolding as it is meant to be.
Maturity is defined as development,
Is this the development of the human body?
Is this the development of intellectual matter or
Is this the development of human potential?
Is this the development of a spiritual knowing or connection?
How is maturity obtained?
Do we grow up to be mature?
Are we taught and learn to become mature,
Do we obtain maturity through experience?
Or does age provide an automatic pass to maturity.
Is maturity that stage where all is lost?
Or is maturity when the world is our oyster,
Or when there is an inner knowing of ourselves,
Or is it when we achieve all of our goals and dreams,
Or is it when we have figured out the world around us.
Maturity, let me know what it looks when you find yours,
I seem to have misplaced mine.
Andreas Simic©
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 7:14 AM UTC
Offshore Oil Exploration
Months of preparatory work,
Permits obtained.
Maps explored, sited,
Ground and beneath scanned,
Each contour drawn, plotted, named.
Equipment assemblage.
Platform designed and towed,
Pre-commencement government inspection
Constant.
We test. Slowly, the loose, easy dirt,
Gives in. No rejoicing yet, premature.
The diverter in place, functions well.
The deeper the bit, the harder the resistance.
The camera's eyes monitor until
We reach depths too deep for their functioning.
The derrickhands order about the junior roustabouts,
Check the mud pumps, check the pH levels,
Do this, do that. The pecking order on board clear.
The kings of the rig, the drillers, in charge.
Then, disaster.
Oil spill.
Worse.
Not only smiling,
She has
Opened her eyes and
Ceased purring.
P.S. This would as is my custom be,
Re-entitled properly:
First Poem of the Day: Offshore Oil Exploration
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
She's a selfish lover, armed with stunning beauty.
She hunts joyfully for an innocent & caring heart,
She wants to satisfy her longing spirit.
Self validation by conquered hearts.
Conquests, like trophies on a night stand.
Each victory validated by a wounded spirit.
Her potent satisfactions soon dwindles.
Repeated victories, must be obtained.
Scores of bleeding hearts form rivers of tears.
Each conquest screaming from nearby roof tops.
Her Reputation becomes known by many.
The walking wounded,
They protect their dulled spirit
With raised eyebrows and gently shaking heads,
With muffled voices they warn, she is trouble waiting to happen.
I have been bitten by her kind of love.
The sting lingers in my heart,
The scars noticeable in my spirit & in my eyes.
I have her disease now.
My heart longs for love.
Not for Revenge!
But, for recovery and for self validation!
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
Brings truth and life to my enemy.
God is Love.
Jesus showed us this Love.
Forgiving.
For I was His enemy.
Delivered me
a package of His one Living True Word satisfying and made whole
Through Jesus Christ alone shall
"Enlightenment" be obtained
Retained and maintained as the
Constant that holds all things together
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
What are we really looking to receive?
Is it: Money, Fame, Success, or Promotion?
Secret lusts of the heart create problems;
are we willing to risk, His Salvation?
Living to get things will never satisfy;
without proper priorities and pursuits,
righteousness, peace and joy isn’t obtained.
Knowing your identity in Him, His fruit,
mercy and grace becomes obviously evident.
Seeking His face will insure that His hand
remains open towards those desiring Him.
However, are we doing what He had planned?
Are we delighting ourselves in Him alone?
Are the goals of God, something we discuss?
He always should be the King of our Life
and the Kingdom that is… inside each of us.
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
Rom 14:17; Psa 37:4,145:16
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
I would take your pain away,
Even If it took my breath away....
There is nothing I wouldn’t do
If I could only set you free....
When I look into your eyes,
I see sadness deeply hidden.
Fear, desire, and passions,
The things that this experience have given you....
I want to fill your heart with peace,
And see the joy in your face.
Through the sorrows and the pain
I would gladly take your place...
I'd wipe the tears from your cheeks
Before they ever reach you'r lips...
I’d sooth your weary mind
And heal your broken heart...
All the troubles that you’ve obtained
Would be forgotten with the past...
Your future would be bright
And your eyes well be open and you well see how life is worth a wild...
I have this plan to take your pain away..
It really isn’t difficult..
I’ll just love you every day like I always wanted to do....
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
Emotions heavy on the mind of this warrior tonight.though he will try to sleep he will not rest tonight. The battle of yesterday on his mind. Recounting the actions recalling the slain, seeing his pain a tear from his dear lay on his shoulder in vain. For the warrior so strong by day had crumbled at night. All the feats he had obtained they all seemed to be in vain. While they lay there she whispered, why must you cry, why do you hurt, why do you never fall asleep is it I? Am I the reason you cry? Am I the reason you hurt? Can you not see that when you hurt it hurts me? The warrior looking up at what seemed to be the sky, looking right through her and her deep blue eyes. It is not you although your actions be in vain. The tears you stream like mine they to are the same. You cry for understanding while I cry because I know. You want to know why the tears run down my face it's because I fight. No one should be forced to take another mans life. I cry for the time I will not return home, for when this warrior will walk alone. Holding her he says this again. Now sleep my sweet, don't fret on the worries of my night. By daybreak everything will be alright. Just listen and trust me and the warrior bid her goodnight.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
I'm going to drown myself in video games
and ignore the information I obtained.
I know you didn't really mean those things, right?
I wish those words would go away, at least at night.
I think what bothers me the most
is that you make me seem like I'm always the bad guy,
when you have also been the cause quite a few times...
But I never said things that weren't untrue to complete strangers especially not about you. Regardless I will ignore this and keep my nose in my games, curiosity kills the cat in the end.
I should've held onto this quote.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
539
The Province of the Saved
Should be the Art—To save—
Through Skill obtained in Themselves—
The Science of the Grave
No Man can understand
But He that hath endured
The Dissolution—in Himself—
That Man—be qualified
To qualify Despair
To Those who failing new—
Mistake Defeat for Death—Each time—
Till acclimated—to—
3.1k
A cup of cold branch water,
triple filtered, extra dry.
Bring it to a rolling boil-
in a moment you'll see why.
Pour it into ice cube trays
and place it in the freezer
This recipe is tried and true-
obtained from an old geezer.
Wait two hours, then remove
the ice cubes from their tray.
Notice they are crystal clear,
never cloudy cracked or grey.
Place some in a six ounce glass
making sure that none are wasted
then add a single malt and sip
the best ice cubes ever tasted.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 6:31 AM UTC
1444
A little Snow was here and there
Disseminated in her Hair—
Since she and I had met and played
Decade had gathered to Decade—
But Time had added not obtained
Impregnable the Rose
For summer too indelible
Too obdurate for Snows—
3.2k
Taboo! Taboo!
I love you more than I should.
On the alter of Sin, I forfeit my sole to you!
Why is my love for you Taboo?
Love, so strong in spirit.
Love, so true and fresh.
Join together our flesh, with love & spirit.
How can such love be forbidden?
Natural Love, Innocent Love.
Love, that can not be overridden!
Contentment and happiness, can't be obtained,
While longing for you. If only I could.
Love, never fully expressed, never fully contained.
I love you more than I should.
A normal day, It can not be.
Your essences is constantly with me.
Taboo love for you, from me.
More than normal love,
I am in love with you.
I love you more than I should!
Bitter Sweet, Taboo Love.
Must it, will it, always be Taboo!
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 8:26 AM UTC
Like so many
Lemmings
they rush to southern climes for
greener pastures
year round golf a
Slower pace
Cheaper prices and
Tropical temperatures
Leathery
Tanned
Unnaturally taut and
Sun-spotted
they crowd the local haunts and
Clog the highways.
At best they tolerate whoever is not
Pensioned or
Privileged
At worst they ban the
Underage
Unfortunates
from their gated communities
and social gatherings
The pendulum has swung from a time
when the Old were at the
Mercy of the Young
to the present
when Youth is
Oppressed by Senescence
Once democracy’s backbone they now wax
Conservative having obtained their
Slice of the pie
Now there is no pie
Mother Earth has been trampled to death and the
Toiling hands of those who
Stoke the fires of industry are
Blistered and discouraged
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
I write to add promise to myself, that one day, after enough practice ill truly become a great writer.. This goal is only obtained by hours and hours of beating on my craft. The same standards I hold for my writing I hold for my life, and mainly my relationships, I will fail, but thats only a step in the right direction for success. I never give up on my dreams and I never give up on a relationship. Even when times are tough, that struggle builds us stronger together, and over time we will succeed! A drive for a couple is required to live a long wonderful life. Fights happen, people do change and life gets harder but if you make a relationship or marriage a team work, balance off of each others strength and weakness, help and not put down... Any thing is possible, but you have to believe in yourself and your love companion to stand there at the ends of days and look at them and say, we did it, it was hard and tough but the harder the work, the sweeter the victory.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 4:02 AM UTC
By definition, talent is to have natural aptitude or skill,
So naturally for a poet like myself,
Talent is what happens when artistry
Becomes the integration of poetic elements—
Transferred from savage seas of thought
To the nakedness of a sheet of paper—
A voice of confidence composing songs of beauty in motion,
Live wired passion sparking spirit lifting inspiration.
Talent is within the heart of whom possesses it—
If the vessel is tainted with chaos
Then the outcome of devastation is imminent
If the vessel is painted with endearment
Then the outcome of equanimity is prominent
By definition, talent is to have natural aptitude or skill,
So naturally for a poet like myself,
Talent is a gift ,one not obtained freely—
nor does it find its way to everyone,
but it is the duty of the talented
to be inspiration for the talent-less—
To be a human of poetry,
A messenger of the earth,
Parallel to fellow man,
no matter the race, creed or gender.
Talent is within the heart of whom possesses it—
If the vessel is tainted with chaos
Then the outcome of devastation is imminent
If the vessel is painted with endearment
Then the outcome of equanimity is prominent.
Joseph R. Adomavicia
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
604
Unto my Books—so good to turn—
Far ends of tired Days—
It half endears the Abstinence—
And Pain—is missed—in Praise—
As Flavors—cheer ******** Guests
With Banquettings to be—
So Spices—stimulate the time
Till my small Library—
It may be Wilderness—without—
Far feet of failing Men—
But Holiday—excludes the night—
And it is Bells—within—
I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf—
Their Countenances Kid
Enamor—in Prospective—
And satisfy—obtained—
2.6k
Fluctuating back and forth on the idea of how to relieve
The theme of cynicism throughout your life;
Tough like nails: too stubborn to let go of whatever
They were hammered into; the hits we take
Make us unstable and unmovable from certain aspects.
You chose to Stitch your eyes up
With a thin piece of cynical string and a metal needle.
Threading the idea of light and dark in each vessel,
Causing your body parts to glow and show
Off the direction of ideas, in out and down,
But never up, for the sake of falling for the
Instinctual trust and hope humans so conveniently thrive for.
Conquered and obtained the conflict from your child
Hood, fluctuating on the idea of morally right
And morally wrong. Cough, cough, cough. Right
Lung punctured by stale smoke, your lips twitch in
The environment. Blood swells in your veins, forget
That women’s ******* are to feed her children.
Wipe the grin off the old man whose sipping warm
Whiskey, tell him his wife is six feet under and partying
With the demons he drove her to acquire.
Like water, you are the universal solvent
Cleaning, clearing, conquering and
Creating a new symbiosis with human beings and
The world they are submerged in; We take it for granted.
Cynicism in brevity, is beautiful for the fact that it claims to be
Open and calm like ocean waves during low tide
Or a baby child’s gaggle and coo. Fluctuating between calm
And ignorant, more so unintentionally rational to the point
Of tearing your human anatomy apart and dipping the
Soon to be suffocated air in heavy smoke.
I’m afraid
Humans just can’t handle the **** truth of reality.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 6:23 PM UTC
I would like to feel again
Burst abruptly from this cocoon of numbness I find myself in
Ice Queen.
Eskimo ***** is mighty cold or so I've been told
Lucky me no Inuit runs through these punch drunk crazy veins
The taste of blood, copper and meaty, is sharp on bitten lips
The facade of laughter, worry
The years that stand between us
Are held up for scrutiny
You are always lacking
I am always wanting
It is our way
Now I find us at a crossroads
Another path blossoms thick and heavy with unkempt erotica
Dripping silky sweet between the sheets
It is one I will walk alone, living sin
Our path is ripe and full
Surprises swinging around every corner
My every desire obtained
Going to sleep lonely but repeat
Such is the choice of a woman
Or is it?
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 6:38 PM UTC