"oscillatory" poems
Rolling down the road, in a sunset town
A pop from the tailpipe and a rumbling sound.
Never before have you seen the town like this.
Friendly faces, children running. Bliss.
A sweet voice, humming over the airwaves
Sultry and definite, like the end of this day.
It's stampeding to a hault, to an end of days.
It should have always ended this way.
The raccoon, his days of mischieve cut short,
Forever stagnant and flat on the black.
No one will build him his tomb, an animal mosoluem, no funeral fort.
What will happen when I die, what will be lax?
We all stride to and fro,
Oscillatory on this wavelength God-given.
What happens when we finally go,
When our own life is not living?
Men may say that life is long for fear of the afterworld,
For that untrodded territory in which we know not of
But I say that life is too fleeting,
For the fish which swim, the birds above.
What is life, when put to music?
Can you hear it better when the melodies mix?
Is the world more rustic?
Are we fools to its tricks?
Sunset falling on faces of a sprawl,
One day over, one to end them all.
I feel an ocean rushing over me
I find myself floating at sea
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 9:15 PM UTC
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Such egoistic heads tell not to worry
And at our back talk oscillatory
Bad about us, creating a crematory
Where they bury their own glory.
They have a bad attitude of sanatory
Coward, showy, deceitful, predatory.
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
I too had such a mad hoary
Who was ready with an itinerary,
Where all bad & deceit come corollary
As she had a base habit of obfuscatory.
She knew less concepts contemporary
And thought herself vital primary.
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if I hunky-dory?
We knew those emotions were vapory –
Happy, then sad, angry then nugatory!
Her emotions changed as witch’s allegory,
Hate, spurn, prune are her favourite mandatory:
Now singly fights with colleagues hortatory;
Alas! Does not know her faults & category.
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if hunky-dory?
At first I tried to be a promontory
So that I can save her crematory;
Blind with pride, less corroboratory,
She spurned me having derogatory.
Now also I pity her as she is a hoary
But wish she improves her oratory.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
I wanna tell you,
But then I’d have to slay you,
Virtually and figuratively,
Unbeknownst of the lash-backs.
Words that are brewed,
Halt at the red-rimmed double door,
Floundering in a quicksand,
And desirous of a disgorge.
Everyone’s got a darkness,
That threatens contagion,
But not everyone’s fleeing
A grim spirit unaware.
It’s been a gamble,
Every resultant road in shambles,
An oscillatory labyrinth of pity:
For yourself and the Sinister gaiety.
A desecrated fortress prevails,
Ruins tossed over for salvage,
The sole surviving fragment treasured
For forging a forgiveness-future.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC
oscillatory specks
dancing together
resting on the back of
that which can't be grasped
as wave nor particle
resounding gravity.
their delicate balance
and ballet offers
a stage in which
all is seemingly revealed
in its presence--
but,
*nothing is ever
as it seems*
so at the very least:
it is the ultimate carrier
weaving together
elucidation & illumination
highlighting the seams of
simple magnificence
that is contained within itself
Jan 5, 2024
Jan 5, 2024 at 11:22 AM UTC