"opportune" poems
Stepping out into the yard,
my curvéd bow strung tight.
Thereupon my driveway,
three blackbirds share the light.
The moment is opportune,
it must be now, do or die.
I've got thoughts of my belly
filled with hearty blackbird pie.
"What did they ever do to you?
They're not a threat in the least."
Yet should I die in my own yard,
they'd pick me for the feast.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 2:09 PM UTC
Too long this rot has run its course, too much the damage done
When men deflect acknowledged glance, they know that wrong has won.
Across this land and far afield the wrongness seeps within
And pride becomes a memory through distant halls of spin.
How can we bow to tyranny, how can we shy away
From that which causes eyes to slide.... and coaxes will to sway?
To tolerate the bombast, the bullying, the lies
Succumbing to a hopelessness, which, both we despise.
Division in the nation, uproar in between
A man and wife’s contention-ness beyond what should be seen
Brothers loathing brothers, silence in the room
Where a word uttered wrongly can erupt to screaming soon.
Allies left in tatters, trust is cut to shards
Tariffs injudiciously, imposed to **** the cards.
International uproar, industry in strife
Teetering disastrously when NATO flees the knife.
Putin sits and rubs his hands, hilarious the show
Disorder and disharmony to lubricate his glow.
Beijing sits inscrutably, always opportune
Manoeuvring judiciously, in place, to call the tune.
America, the isolate, sails away to sea
Blondini, at the helm, wears smirk indulgently.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON NZ
12th July 2018
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 2:17 AM UTC
If I am kindling,
you must be the spark...
Much alive in the darkest dark,
lifting all shadows with
finesse and flair.
If I am flame,
you must be the air and wind...
Unfettered and free...
Cradling my infancy.
Only to nurture and inspire,
to groom flame to fire.
If I am faltering...
And almost extinguished,
you must be the hand...
Bearing the confidence and belief...
Awaiting the moment most opportune,
to align yourself in rhythm and tune.
So we could...
Continue to
burst forth into light.
So we could...
Resume our journey forth with might.
Let us be our own deterrent
from the darkness
that comes with morrow's set.
Hand in hand, we must...
Because together...
And only together,
we're...
incandescent.
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
The question regarding the question relies on what the question really is.
If the question implied is a question directed outwardly, then it may be misinterpreted as a question to oneself internally.
Otherwise, a question explicitly directed inwardly is critical to deciphering the question that one will address outwardly.
If an indirect question is questioned through the user, then the question itself becomes a metaphysical question to choose from.
In the event a question is said through alternate means, consider the quantitative/qualitative state of the question at the time being; as it may be resolved by asking the question in a subconscious level indeed.
Superficial means tends to seek fundamental questions to the reality of the state one naturally possesses.
In the case where the unconscious decides the opportune event to question the conscious reality, one must interpret the means in examination of the intrapersonal mentality.
If the question is imposed through correlative thought and subliminal expression, then the question itself is related to a parallel conscious state intertwined with the unconscious state of mind of progression.
If the question is relative in combination to the solutions mentioned above becoming apparent, then one has means to ask the question without questioning the question itself in disparate.
Otherwise, the question continues to perplex the question through the continuation of irrelevant questions that one will have thought; creating a treacherous belief so concurrent one could not have fought.
Therefore, is the reality of the question portrayed to the reality you live in or the reality of others? As this poem was conclusive to subtly evoke thought in the questions we construct.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
the rain sifts through my attempts
to grasp it with mere hands:
one cannot understand
without going through its constant
shift and change of faces.
As to another, one learns
to ask the right questions,
naturally, at the opportune time.
Like in all things
Every conversation
Which pass through us
Were never truly there.
Those that do stay are bereft
of meaning.
What remains often
is the damp, moistness
of the late -ber month showers:
regret, loss, a tactless remark.
They share the same fate in all
of this, the slow, uptake for words:
closure, a second chance, a bad joke
like the heavy traffic we always have
to endure - a cartload heavy
-laden with stockpiled souvenirs
with no particular use except
for reminiscing, a flickering hope
for the last bus ride home.
One day, you will
miss all of this.
And the only thing
that is left to endure,
is memory.
14 October 2017
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 6:00 AM UTC
*As a kid when I heard the stories
Of heavens and hells
And gods and ghosts
I thought of those to be true
But as I grew
My education warned me
Not to trust that view
As a child when my elders advised
Do unto others as you would have them do to you
I thought they were impractical
Ignorant of smartness required
To manage things through
By far I thought I was the wise
To have known it all
Realized late in time
How great was that fall
Superficial logic, intellectual materialism
Cloaked my natural state of true mind
Boosting desires, sterile opinions
Leaving the true sense behind
I am thankful to the nature
For giving me an opportune
To study the greatest reality
Why humans are marooned
Time and space are eternal
I am just the part of that infinite
The one awarded with human form
For some past intentions right
I should not take pride in that
For where I am today
Later might be someone else’s part
Man who decoded the mystery of mind
Taught this decades ago
Guard thoughts, actions, and speech
To reach the real goal
Not judge anything and any being
Instead focus on developing clear seeing
As everything is ever changing
Including ones birth realms
A full mind just exhibits knowledge
Only in empty mind wisdom reaps
Don’t get swayed by extremes
Middle way is the path of keep
Now I understand
Message behind the moral stories
What one sows is what one reaps
One gets heavenly pleasures or hellish pain
Exclusively based on law of deeds
One gets what one deserves
For law of nature never fails
But latent power within
Can turn it all around
If not enlightenment
One can at least find in life
A decent ground
Now and in future!*
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
When to grab I'm not sure
Not when Time is tariff
Barely making of Future's contour
Space and fate in Miscellany
But perhaps I Must grab,
for that remaining Flickering seconds--
before Regret stabs my back
of once-in-a-blue-moon's Wasted Opportunity
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
I just want to understand
how someone so beautiful
so flawless
could cause so much hurt.
One would think the greater being
whoever controls my heart
and yours,
would not allow.
The greater being should not allow
one person
to be able to obtain everything from me.
It isn't fair
that with one look
you own me in a greater sense of the word.
It wasn't a secret
how I loved you so
yearned for your touch
screamed for you in my dreams
and yet you took it as a such an opportune
time
to crush me
into d u s t.
I'm Gone Now
I Cannot Come Back From This
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
1
Her thick dark eyebrows did cast a spell first,
they are stuck there like vampire bats,
they both symbolize a sinister plot, kept secret,
with a 'come hither' prompt, none can resist.
She attracted artists in hordes, crazy moths,
never did they look above her face,the serpents,
lay tangled and acted as if it's smooth coiffure.
Wicked lust,aroused by bitter past,
made her move with keen intent
an invisible net she carried behind her back.
She attacked at opportune moments, pretending
she is a lover, with insatiable lust in boil.
2
All crafted lies, simultaneously,she artfully solicited,
colored moths, in her slow fire, they burned, one by one,
but one remained stuck there for life, fearing rejection every moment.
A crop of heads she reaped , wherever she went,
a kite was ever ready to fly her victim-hood colors higher and higher,
that made admirers **** in their breath and stoop,
before her to her advantage, she had no dearth for volunteers any time.
Burning words made her chants fly like fire works,
her collection of heads turned stones by admiring her
increased, as a huntress she was an ace
stuffed in her cubbyhole of a heart, heads of stone languished.
3
Medusa,you don't have sisters,
I count it the luck of those unborn
how beautiful, you once were I still remember,
though no sun visited the north you spent your childhood.
Run, run my feared beauty, to the sun, before your heart
get charred by the heat of hatred, you bear in the Gothic interiors.
4
I hate Perseus, don't you fear your Nemesis?
Every Athena you wrongly think your foe and fight,
all your hair turned serpents, still I thought, love would work,
without coming upfront, I kept my flame burning,
but all in vein, you could never love anyone, legitimately or otherwise.
Your blood, all of it, has turned venom, you spit it, slowly
its beauty amazes, even the victims on the line next...
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
Little footsteps in this moon dust sand,
I chase my memories as they flee my grasp,
Racing the clouds to embrace the sun.
A heart, content, is left on your doorstep,
I hope, someday, the person you are meant to become will trace back the way I came and exchange the goodbyes we once hung
out to dry.
But until then, here in this momentary stillness
An opportune silence blooms into this heart of mine,
And it seems I've misplaced it in your moonlit palm
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 1:23 AM UTC
I'd rather be
less opportune
than being
your sycophant
Because
its not you
Who is the author
of my story.
I'd rather
walk alone
than being a part
of this blind haste
Because
its not them
Who is the arbiter
of my struggling journey.
I'd rather fly far
than flying high
Because now
its me
who is the ruler
of my destiny.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
*“Do I sense
some resistance -
a sense of injustice?”*
whispers Life
folding me cold
in her ample python-coil
and she sings me her song
*“The flowers bloom
in the fields, sweet love
to be gathered for your bier
Time lingers in the wings
to pull you off stage
at the moment
opportune in its Clasped Book
The worms wait patient
if you choose a burial;
if cremation’s your choice
the fires wait in quiet potential
The musicians practise
to be employed
by the survivors
to deliver you a dirge
And so my sweet love -
Live well
Night night, sleep tight,
don’t let the bedbugs bite"*
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Coffee first thing,
better make it a double
for the morning rush
and that train that expects me.
Closing eyes on the journey
trying to accumulate
another micro minute of
peace
maybe the silence kept me all night,
with ideas on how to change.
Or I'm overworked by the drive
that will buy an escape to freedom.
We closed our eyes
as it's too depressing to see,
too numbing to watch,
but if hearing is the last sense hanging on
then announce on our speaker
that today is not just another,
that there is something different,
something hopeful
to come back out of our heads from.
let us feel more
I feel like screaming,
maybe to cause some confusion,
so an emotion creates something
other than familiarity.
Yet more papers turn
as the melancholy deepens,
unconscious
or 20:20
the train doors open anyway,
to close,
as though destiny decided to accept
waiting.
Just for a few more stops anyway
Tapping on phones in disconnectedness,
engaging away from that moment
as blinking just don't know where to be
sitting facing such strangers.
Nobody look at me!
fingertips planning movements
of where One shall have to be,
when these doors of limbo re-open.
Where are all those travellers!
I walk behind,
a que of single file
and with every step
I long to run through
and against this one way system,
possibly naked
to provoke a smile
if I'm lucky
But the moment isn't opportune
I guess I will do it one day
On a day I will swear
that I will never feel enslaved
by the weight
of obligation gripping my sole.
Marching up stairs
with images of arrows,
follow this direction
is the wrong kind of sign
Steps continue upward
as though a continuous metaphor.
And soon I'll take my chances.
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
Flower that did not bloom
Holds the secret to happiness
Waiting for an opportune moment
To display its glory to the world
With patience, honeyed potion
Aroma and beauty will mesmerize
World will be in a stupor
Drunk on the beauty and nectar
For, it will bloom for sure
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 9:29 AM UTC
*
My BELOVEDz is hiding
Behind LOVE's veil
For how long you will play
The game of LOVE's hide and seek?
We are each other's LOVERS & BELOVEDz
Now there is no hiding behind LOVE veils
You sparkle me with your moon-shine
Now YOU hide behind clouds of LOVE-veil
Sometimes, I can only see silver-linings
Let me see YOUR full LOVE moon bright
After lighting my SOUL with your LOVE
why you are wearing this LOVE-veil?
Is it shyness or fear of the world
That you are imprisoned behind this veil?
Do not hide the beauty of your SOUL
Behind the fortress of life's work
It is not enough to watch me from
Behind your LOVE - veil
Be fearless and FREE
Let LOVE flow without your LIFE's veil
Come forth to my eyes my BELOVEDz
By lifting my LOVE-veil from your heart
Now, let your SOUL illuminate my being
But for God/dess's sake
Do not lift your LOVE-veil
In front of the moon and stars
Otherwise seeing your beauty
They will die with jealousy & envy
So wait for my salute & surrender
Before you lift your LOVE-veil
Till then let our LOVE be a secret
Under your mystical LOVE - veil
And when you will lift your LOVE-veil
We will ask each other's eyes the secrets
And mysteries of OUR ONE-SOUL
But we won't reveal our
Pain and sufferings
To the people of the world
Let us wait for opportune time
Before we will reveal our
LOVE-SOUL-CONNECT
Till then - behind the LOVE veil
Let our hearts burn with desires
Don't let the world see our tears
Let us not complain about pains of longing
Let us not
Reveal the name of BELOVEDz / LOVERz
And betray the Nature's LAW of LOVE
Let us remain
DOGS of loyalty in LOVE
*
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 12:39 AM UTC
Needed someone to love
someone to hold,
someone to fall for
Couldn't I have told
You, that I wasn't cold
Out of my mold
I could not crowl
Just a little bold
That's what I needed to be, lord
To confront the world
No treasure, silver or gold
Too young, I wasn't that old
To take consideration,
And of your love behold
The world distorting your peace
Your true self I could not uphold
Couldn't you have managed to hold
Hold onto me through madness and massacre
How could I have believed
We had no enemies
When all I saw was war
Our chances were rigged
Our chances were not ours to deal
Our places were not opportune
Our cards were long fortold
We held onto the unattainable
We fell to the struggle from within
We were fighting hard to rebuild
What had already failed,
Thinking the helpless
Could reverse their inevitable fall
In the questions, desperation, and pondering
No catharsis, no purging, avails
All the true revelations are lost
Only un-resourceful quiescence stalls
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 10:06 PM UTC
A smile for a while
A grin for a time
A laugh, one chuckle
No money for a rhyme-----
D
O
W
N
B
E
L
O
W
A poet goes
Hoping to get just one
View---- a poet is born
By the millisecond
A window of
opportune.
Some poets dream
Of Mars
Some the stars, sun and moon.
Some are rich and some are poor-----
Some have houses
Yet no money for a bedroom door
Some poets write with pens
Others write with their teeth,
Other poet's write with pain and excite
Some poets write rapping streets
Some poets write of amor, some write of drug use
Of their future's in store.
Some poets write for fun and play
Some write of their deaths
Some in June and may
Some poet's change their lives
As others write sweet lullaby's
Some poets are me and you
The someone's are somebody's
That someone is you.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
Thou art not but a siren,
Singing thine song.
Thou do not but lure the hearts of men,
Into thine caltrop of a jaw.
Not devouring instantly,
But instead thou bides thine time.
Thou pleasures before thou feasts.
Thou waits until the opportune shade of sundial,
When the hearts of men art trustworthy.
Thou feeds upon them as if a beast.
But dost thou have beauty?
But dost thou have charm?
But dost thou have wit?
This is why thou cannot resist.
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
It is so cold and dark as gloom
I'm on the floor hog-tied and bound
The door is locked to my new room
I don't know if I will be found
I'm on the far side of the moon
Deep silence I can't hear a sound
I really thought I was immune
Even though no one was around
I think maybe it was about noon
I saw you two and my heart drowned
You were hand in hand love abloom
How on Earth could I have been clowned
My hand to my hip then the boom
You lay bleeding on the hard ground
Caught within the web of your loom
Grief and misery both abound
Tour song of love was out of tune
I weigh treachery by the pound
My heart break to you I impugn
My once kind smiling face has frowned
Horrid deeds drop me in a swoon
The gravity does me astound
You will be buried this afternoon
A grave and tomb will you impound
The green-eyed monster sealed my doom
But why, why did you so confound
A love, a life so opportune
My feelings for you so profound
A cuckold pathetic buffoon
Alas no peace have I found
Here on the far side of the moon
Here on the floor hogtied and bound
You lay bleeding on the hard ground
Caught within the web of your loom
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
A simple love life
Opportune love
Presence everywhere
One chooses to be aware
Awake and aware of truth personified
Happy with nothing left to lose
Beauty follows grace
Everything changes
How depends on
Face to face
Whisper
Love will not be contained
To hell with the moon
We glow
Before or after transforms
Here now in paradise
Create universes
Of infinite passions place
Each-others
Infinite
Embrace
Simultaneously
Synchronizing-hearts to beat as one
Divine straight true pure
Cuts bleeding
Right
Through
America's
Heartland ironic eh
Fear our matchless glory
Please perhaps maybe space to love
Lovers thinking about moving
Gratefully happy to reflect now
Believing cute twists of hope hot sultry silly
Buttery-silky-soft sticky kisses for real
Checks hearts pulsating limitless too late
Love is ready in all ways here today
Be relieved late again
Coy shy dreadful
Sweats
Joy why
So few
Regrets
Joy has found
A simple love
Buttery silky soft
Coy inky **** you & me
Crafting love-life-peace
Show is over go home to simple love
More love over love under again repeatedly unscripted
Coming back for more shocked *** dripping & jaw dropping
Focused and riveted rocketing peculiar passions with pure presence
Terrestrial love **** beautiful eyes style points grace
Throne of blushing stallion champion of abundance giving patience to naughty time to play savor Every mentionable edible
Enjoying fine fresh refined tempered real touched up and down love move it all around for real Even still hear
Sacred silence
Convert no one will ever know
Vegas style passion love over flowing
Powerfully connected heart wrenching censor ships to shore
Love confidently drooling dreaming imagining magical wet mystical
dripping warm sea foam breezes Touch intent
Lips tongues mesh definitely overdue done
Multiple heart-beats resonate as more than one
Mushy in your face grace
Presenting happiness fun presence
Sexy-very-sexy fate is alive
One chooses 2 to awake to 3 awareness
Awake and aware of freedom truth
Love love love is within the eyes of the wise
To amuse a muse loose
To a simple love life.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
You don’t want to die.
No.
You want happiness.
You want to wake up in the morning feeling alive with each breath that comes easily and weightless; You just want stop feeling like this is a nightmare you can’t wake up from.
The possibility of happiness manipulates you into thinking you can have it then, inconveniently at the most in opportune time reminds you that happiness is just not something you can have no matter how deep the yearning you have to submerge yourself in it; happiness is there, all around yet just out of reach so that you can see but never manage to have it.
You’re hopeless, alone in a cold darkness that suffocates you, leaving you breathless and isolated from others by past wounds that wont heal.
At times you’re overwhelmed, like a deer in headlights you can’t move; feeling paralyzed not knowing what to do, say, think, should you sit? Waiting until you “unfreeze”
you’re frozen in an attempt to pullaway from an invisible hand that has a tight grasp of your upper arm. Eventually it releases its hold allowing you to move once more leaving you to now wondering, lost on what to do .
Sometimes you’re trying to find reason to live, more reasons than your kids. If it weren’t for the kids you wouldn’t be here. You have tried so many times. But are left to fight for yourself. You’re all you can depend on in the end. Whenever that will be.
Sep 17, 2024
Sep 17, 2024 at 12:23 AM UTC
“I am tired,”
I say
You ask if I was up late
Last night
And instead of telling you about
My hypocretin levels I nod
And laugh and say
“Something like that.”
“What, are you tired?”
My coach asks
He thinks he is
Trying to motivate me
But he does not know
That my very existence is
Bone crushingly exhausting
And yes,
I am tired
But I wouldn’t expect him
To understand
So I say nothing
When I say I have narcolepsy
And you say
“Must be nice, being able
To fall asleep anywhere,”
I have never related
To Ted Bundy more in
My entire life
You suggest I stop
Drinking coffee
I suggest you stop breathing
Teachers talk about the
Impact of sleep on
Mental health and
I think
Maybe that’s why
I’m always depressed
My doctor suggests I stop
Drinking coffee too
I am a little worried now
I google
“Caffeine related heart attacks
In teens”
My findings are not enough to
Convince me and besides,
A hospital visit
Is just an opportune moment
For a nap
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 11:12 AM UTC
*I skipped home in the sunshine
A deep, dark cloud rested ahead
Taunting me,
Waiting for the opportune moment
Of course, in front of your house
The very house where we..
We used to watch bad horror flicks
Used to cuddle close on the couch
Used to bake cakes together
Used to sing the wrong lyrics
With the wrong chords
Used to get high
Used to **** everything up
Used to live
In
Yeah, that house
Your house.
That's when the sky unleashed
All of it's fury
Raindrops the size of bullets
Piercing through my skin
I had no shelter
No umbrella
No hood
No coat
No poncho
Just a girl and her nostalgia
Walking down Pine street
For the millionth time
So I did what I do best
I embraced it
Took off my shoes
Let the rain consume me
Stuck out my tongue
And drank the rivers
From heaven
And I swear I heard you laughing
Inside
All warm and dry
I guess you felt bad for me
But,
You shouldn't have
Not at all
Because I was the one
That had the strength
To walk alone
In the rain
In the first place
While you played it safe
The difference between
You and me
Is very simple dear
I embrace the world,
You fight it.
So keep on laughing
And I'll keep on dancing
And maybe one day
We'll find a way
To rid ourselves
Of each other.*
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
there's a door
I ignore it at night.
I can see the shadows
slipping underneath it
to some unknown place where
grabby things are living
and biding their time
til opportune, they can
****** me.
when all the lights are off
I am in the quick scuttle
to my bedroom, cellphone aloft
for the tiny blue glow
that will protect me
from monsters
unless they are in
the air, materializing in my
lungs to scare me from
the inside out.
and even when I
have ducked fully under
the covers of my bed
I lie, flat, rigid. No
breath, in case dark things
folded and slithering underneath
my clothes, in the
drawers, or twined
around the hangers
can see the movement
and take the opportunity
of me captive in my
bed,
to pounce.
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 9:36 AM UTC
Beautiful little girl,
Seemingly happy, yet quaint.
Turns her head to look at me
And whispers "you're my saint."
Rosy red cheeks,
So happy outside,
But I saw the defiance,
I saw her losing her mind.
Her smile so subtle,
Screaming so opportune.
Turns her head away from me
and whistles a little tune.
-
Today is the day I witnessed death.
The end of a life so pristine.
Screams echoed in the hollowed world,
Screaming "Oh, no! Christine!"
She stepped off the curb
Slipped and fell into the street.
Slowly got up and looked at me,
The girl whom I would never meet.
She gave me a smile,
As a tear ran down her face.
I lost all emotion,
As my heart began to race.
The earth went silent,
As if that moment would last forever.
When a bus came from nowhere,
And ended life forever.
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 10:18 PM UTC