"oversees" poems
Gray mountain concrete
elephant underpass
groans on six foot wide
legs
bones of steel
re-bar bend and break
As it all begins to crumble
in the cold November sun
Leviathan highways
strangle the hills
with cold grip- They
spill steel and smoke
blood on the city streets
Delivering poison
to your door
Robot brain control center
Oversees the operation
from tall towers
geometric shapes
Obelisks & Skyscrapers
Father Culture thinks with
his ****
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 5:01 PM UTC
back in the days, tales from lauderdale...
yakuzzi gang from oakland park, 308
nightly waves flowin' thru brain channels
the traitor of my memories will judge me
no other day, 38ers, toni der assi, stoogie
two existences, eager brothers at arms
shake em the shake, rip and run, zippas
platin zippos, trip-apache, brave bear
the tents of the past remain as debris
as long as doom's grace feeds us lust
struggle on, lights out, turn me on, baby
shivering is the silver sun at dusk here
and gangsta poets speedin' thru alleys
fat **** frank oversees all oceans, inc.
friends at the thames, partners in crime
the green shining, ultra fresh scent, yeah
bodegas are useful for distribution
nevah, tho', enter these places at night
brooklyn heights, floor 64, 65 & 66 locked
merciless fred, sumptuous leather jacket
cuban necklace jeezy boostah, spiderman
dead blueline pitbulls, ****** cages,
rageful is the age of ours, my friends
sunday's dawn opposes my design
in the corner of my room, hidden
Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 7:57 PM UTC
Begins foot tall grip-
mountain brain to it
of and tall his shapes
crumble in poison operation
from bend and strangle
mountain to bones
strangle and operation
from **** foot underpass groans
begins
They smoke wide legs city and tall the streets
Delivering the cold grip-
and bend
crumble in of his tall bones
the foot with on blood
blood highways and
all of concrete smoke
They with on center
Oversees poison
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:43 PM UTC
What curious and contradictory things,
The cold kiss of winter brings.
The withered soul of Autumn sets,
Awakening a world of bitterness and regrets.
Cruel Irony oversees,
As the earthy time of doom and gloom,
Is also the time of Christmas trees,
And the son of Man’s empty tomb.
A choir of angels joyously sing,
As winter’s breath claims homeless lives,
And a band of sleigh bells festively ring,
As corporate greed flourishes, and thrives.
With its subtle promise of bright tomorrows,
Winter stores life’s greatest sorrows.
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 10:23 PM UTC
.
i wake before the others
betraying the family bed
conduct domestic procedure
(the sun has yet to rise and punish)
the rooms are illuminated with the city dim
projected from streetlight in
a dossing grain of orange
wiltered by the sheets
we use to cower our windows
in this near light i go to spread a morning meal
a tray of fruit, yogurt and breakfast biscuits
i bring it too our low living room table
but Abrupt !
there is a form occupying the table
i scout for a spot to place my wares
put the tray / direct contact / the floor
and make a closer examination
on the table
it is a soldier boy simple life spent out
this warrants artificial light
i pull the cord on the corner lamp
in a glimpse of eyes the bulb pops dead
i know i won't meet result this way
its a brain pattern going on i determine
and remove shrouding from a street view
orange wash lends to the olive uniform
both hands hitched
to his webbing in the middle of his chest
helmet discomforts his head turned to a side
eyes yelling a relaxed nothing
no surprise to his ****** features
boots that haven't even made mud yet
this is clean but for the blood reduction
a syrup for his presentation
no fooling and there is.. the gun
the child in me and the child in him want it
he makes seventeen at most
and it is now i feel
when i see the device
war oversees
makes international the weather
May 16, 2024
May 16, 2024 at 1:27 PM UTC
From the depths of the heart
The mouth speaks
Says the Holy Book
From the tunnel of the Impulzez
Thy fingers scribbles
Says Me
Spurn the wheel and the thread knits
As the niddle picks and the fingers oversees
Hard ground kills all seeds
Hard ground; the sower's serial killer
Hard Heart; the lover's impulse killer
A touch, a word, a thought, a scent
A hug, a smile, a Hi, a cry, a tear
I may scribble a billion words
Which may not tender your sores
I may love a billion times
It still may not tender your woes
Its all in your heart
What you call it
Is What it becomes
I call it Love
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 10:56 AM UTC
1
it’s graduation day
and the teacher gives awards
to each :
a book to one
a staff to another
silk or precious stones;
and to Nasrudin
the teacher
gives a donkey
2
It is some years
and the teacher
hears of Nasrudin’s fame
and comes to visit
the House of Prayer Nasrudin oversees
and to pay homage to the Saint
buried just beside
3
O Nasrudin,
says the teacher -
*how great your fame
and vast your following
Tell me, which Eminent Saint
is buried in the mound
beside the House of Prayer
you oversee?*
O Master,
says Nasrudin
*It’s the donkey
you gave me
It died just 4 years after
and I buried him here
And everyone wants a Saint
so I have not disabused people
of their faith*
4
The teacher nods with a smile
and Nasrudin continues:
*But tell me Master –
which Eminent Saint is buried in the mound
beside the House of Prayer
you oversee?*
Ah, Nasrudin, says the teacher
*though people believe it’s a Saint
it’s really your dead donkey’s mother*
Sep 4, 2011
Sep 4, 2011 at 4:31 AM UTC
i am much
like the moon
over a quiet city with a light
very dim but still
ever so slightly radiant
yet nothing compared to what
oversees the busy city that bathes
underneath the brightest light
they have known -
other lights shine brighter than the moon
not much outshines the sun, but
you can still see the moon against the blue
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
There’s a bench in the park across from my house. It sits atop a spiralling path on a hill, and it oversees everything. I would sit there every night watching the bevy of swans take flight at one end of the pound just to come swooping down at the other. Their take off’s just like planes: momentum is gathered until that vital second when they lift, and I would almost feel the sensation in my stomach as they did so. Such beautiful creatures. It baffles me how someone has a claim to them: “ They are mine. All mine”, she says without saying.
One night, with nothing but the moon lit reflecting off the ripples of the pond, I sat there watching the swans. A group of young men dressed in a deathly black appeared, moving swiftly to the pond. I watched them split up and try and round the swans up like they were sheep. They struggled at first, but eventually they grabbed one and bagged it.
I guess that’s the problem with ownership.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 4:50 AM UTC
How long did my scent linger,
Before this man replaced it?
How many nights did you snub,
The truth before you faced it.
And can you say,
Without dismay,
I am the dream you’re chasing?
Before you try,
I’d like to cry,
For all the years I’ve wasted.
Ice cubes and pouring liquor send my nerves into a trance,
Candlelight and turkey dinner end a lovely little dance.
The night is still and we are young, let us have some fun,
I’ll drink you down and lay you down, until the music’s done.
Your heart is growing warmer,
His hands continue pacing.
Here I laid some time ago,
A memory quite ancient.
Before you say,
Without dismay,
That he’s the man you’re missing,
I’d like to know,
Before I go,
Were my dead lips worth kissing?
A waterfall oversees a bridge above a river.
Silly things may come to mind, when consuming too much liquor.
A rope hangs low, to meet the glow, reflection from the sun.
Its here I lay, asleep and drowned, after I’ve been hung.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A heart is no video game, if you play it, you will lose.
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 12:16 PM UTC
It is wrought upon some, the truthful worries of our world
The rest suffice to say that they are but weak
Survival of the fittest, an excuse used to trample the within us humans
They have but disgraced mankind with all the shoving and pushing
Look around you, open your eyes
“No man’s an island”, a wise old man once said
His words will probably be lost forever
For those who read, suffice with the act of doing so
And not all who do, are gifted with the ability to read
We reach the point of evolution where complexity overcomes all
The one that oversees is now but lost
There might be glimmers and slimmers of hope that we might see
The strong ones might stand up for what might be right
But who am I to judge what right truly is?
Mistakes I shall make
Numbers I shall fake
Climb atop this metaphorical mountain I will
Shout from its metaphorical top I will
Just to show myself that I’m not weak
My presence shall always be felt
From stacked decks shall hands always be dealt
Argue, will I no longer
No longer will I survive
There is but one thing that this world respects
And for it to respect me, will I show it that I can thrive
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
Provide me the space,
To encounter your love.
Is there any reason,
Why I shouldn’t.
Mark the essence of your soul,
On my skin.
Your velvet touch,
Purifies my soul.
You lead me blindly,
You terrify my soul,
You corrupt my mind,
You terrify my thoughts.
Though I’m hanging;
Hanging on a thin thread,
That oversees my thoughts,
Understand my beginning,
And keeps my end away from me.
© 2011
Robyn G Neymour
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 8:58 AM UTC
upbeat chatter fills the computer lab
four story walk up, prison education floor
drab desk oversees outdated clients
slowly loading software
older than some of the inmates
attempting to facilitate learning
on canteen day
with call-outs for visitation
sick leave
cell-ins
bad attitude is the tone of the day
while I sit representing
the “what if”
a symbol for all those who would strive to be better
the station risers
busting the status quo into tiny hypocritical shards
used to metaphorically shank their past
and be new
fresh into a world that condemns them
turning a blind eye to the progress and prospect
recreating criminal thinking
altering recidivism rates
negatively
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
We are us
Who are we?
We are the waters that create the seas
No need for modernisation
Civilisation oversees
United on the same path
Individually rare roads
Through bushes and gravels
We are the history that begins
We are the heard of new ideas,
That showers from forebears
To conquer now nature declares
Born with flares
All of us,all of us all of us we are one
Stumbling in failures
Triumphs directly delivers
We soon to stand like creepers,
Brothers and sisters
Learners to teachers and doctors
We are us
Or morning from dawn
Bravery at spawn
Flexible tongues to questions
Scary responses for answers
Who knows who are we
We are us, we are us
We are the Youths
Written by Kabelo Mthembu
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
The Sovereign reigns on high
enthroned behind the sky
Aware of our distressing woe
He oversees the tragic show
as lies with bullets fly.
Unmoved he sees the dead
beholding him in dread
unable to reverse their course
their being severed from its source
aware of what’s ahead.
The judgement never ends
although we miss our friends
who never yielded unto grace
and now must read upon Christ’s face
a message that offends.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 10:17 AM UTC
down by the river
a public house once stood
it attracted a clientele
from the town's neighborhoods
the oversees and laborers
would whet their whistles
after a big day working
amid the scrub and the saffron thistles
on the afternoon
of September ninth 1932
in the pub's kitchen
a fire did brew
the flue of the Metters stove
caught alight
which made the cook
scream in fright
from the bar the proprietor
ran at speed
to bucket water
on the flame's greed
town's folk tuned up
with hessian bags
to stub out the embers
that were raging in the building's rags
but their efforts to contain
the fire were all in vain
the watering hole was consumed
by the fast pace of the flammable bane
at the rear of the pub
a charred body was found
he'd not escaped
the flares which did surround
the itinerant bur cutter's
ghost loitered at the pub's site for many a year
he'd appear on nights
when the skies were darkened in drear
the fire at the drinker's establishment
is still spoken of in town
that fateful day the hotel's stove
burnt the drinker's house down
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 4:43 AM UTC
Her heart beats the bass drum of her symphony mind.
Her poet soul writes ballets of her reluctant spirit.
Her delicate body is inched in mithril chain works,
Never ceasing to save her from danger; herself.
Artwork covers her remote vessel, maps guiding along.
Telling wicked stories with beautiful silk advocacies,
Carefully constructed of pearly whites,
Rose pinks, plum purples and crimson reds.
She's up in her tower, guarded by bitterness and pain.
Her secluded wonderland is unseen by most eyes.
Yet those who bare the trouble of the journey,
Will arrive forever unchanged with awe and sadness
In their hearts. As for the girl who the world blindly oversees,
She steals the breath of the ones who hold her dear.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
Here is a country ruled by silence.
Empty streets bask in sunlight and absence.
A country of mice and dark windows.
In an audience room dance a few shadows.
The oldest one speaks :
"I am an Eternal Empress ; blessed is my lot.
My subjects have gone, but my rule has not.
Through sunrise and twilight I seat on cold stone,
For one more day I rule, once again to suffer alone."
She oversees a sea of empty homes.
What a poor fate, for one's crown to be so heavy,
For a single soul to bear the eternity of duty.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
Deceivingly aquamarine sky
Oversees the madness of summers
Whose days are closing in
But this time your astral projection
Conquers the atmosphere
And my lungs join the prayer of ribs
Asking for
"Please turn this grasp into a caress
Soothing the burns
That I may have the chance
To become remedy"
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 4:05 AM UTC
Ghost chance
Translucent trance
Appear in the season
For a reason
Never hide
From a ghostly guide
Who oversees
You and me
M ight Be
E very Other You
S ee
S upernal
A ngel In All
G uidance
E thereal
S hifts
With token gifts
Of heavenly drift
Intercepting
Calm and accepting
Playing amidst
Maybe even kissed
By divine
Seraphim bliss
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC
Right along this road I stand and stare
For a hope I held so dear
For the promise in my heart I didn't want to let go
It was on this dark and beaten trail she stole my heart
The fullness of her lips in my mouth still linger
I ****** and pulled enjoying the ecstasy in her juice
Of her lips so full and tender, burning hot
The heat of her love pierced into my soul, propelling the being of me
But now she's here no more
For oversees she has flown
At the airport another man awaits
For the queen I painstakingly made
Right along this road I stand and stare
And see her sink into another man's embrace
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
I live in a God's complex
A metropolis of facilities all lined up neatly in rows
One by one, each line of an intelligent design
State of the art insulations perfectly enclosing this refuge
An oasis in the cold, safe from outside harm
Sheltering the lost arts of relaxation and comfort
They say God is blind
Oh so precious was the thought
But from this view
I can see everything
And from the inside
I can hear everything
Carry anything
What could ever tear this down?
Who knows
Only God knows
God's elaborate
God's complex
He oversees everything
Hears everything
But they say God was deaf
That God owed them
A heaven in the skies
That he hears everything
The truths and the lies
But God owns a building complex
Behind walls he was confined
He was a terrorist
By the mask that we assigned
An almost architect
A destroyer nonetheless
And through his own believes
He was once an atheist
A teacher, a student
A son, a mother
A father, a daughter
A cynic and a lover
Conformist and traitor, his own creator
A dreamweaver, human creature, Godmaker
Taking up every living space this world had to offer
Settling in, committing sin
Exploiting God's creations, claiming it theirs
Leeching off all that he is within
Taking and taking as God gave them up out of love
One by one the spaces were occupied
The new Gods came
As all the young and old put words in each other's mouths
Fighting for what was once good, now only selfish
Driven by a need
For a purpose, a calling
A self-fulfilling prophecy to create something out of nothing
They talked in circles and shapes
As he
He didn't say a word
And so they thought he was mute
But they just never listened
Inside these last four walls
He will hear everything
When nothing outside exists anymore
When nothing he's created talks back anymore
When nothing moves, and nothing moves him
Dead silence
He's heard enough
And so on the last day he rested
To never return again
God has a building complex
To renovate
Renovate
Renovating the nothingness inside
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
It is 3:00a.m,
and a cold breeze has suddenly rushed into my room.
These chills seem to have woken me up
to have a conversation with the moon.
The moon that remains so bold,
to shine so bright in such immense darkness.
How brave of her to have the ability to harness the
tarnished cities of which she oversees..
the battered leaves that tomorrow, will leave with the breeze..
the purest hearts that drop down to their knees
in the middle of the street
begging you to please,
have some sympathy..
the thieves that leave with the keys to our hearts,
the ones who said you would never be stranded,
yet you watched them depart.
She sees the things
that wake us out of our coldest dreams.
And yet, her energy bleeds
to relieve the shackles
and loosen your seams.
It seems we don't notice those that breathe,
unless they play a character
in this illusionary theme...
a scheme of how things should be in society.
She observes quietly.
How brave of her to absorb
the reflection of tears
that fall on our floors.
This stillness is something I have come to adore, more and more.
It plays jazz music on the deepest depths of my candescent core.
The door is open, and from myself, I am torn.
I have decided to be bold
like the moon's pull that allowed this ballpoint to roll.
It is time for me to go back to sleep,
and awake reborn.
- L.G.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
Date written: June 23, 2024
[email protected]
Mantis
By: Yisselakh
Verse:
So you look above the hedge
And see the mantis on the edge
The waning sun shines through its silhouette
A sea of green perched beneath
The roaring storm of overcast red
The roaring storm of overcast red
The roaring storm of overcast red
Pre-Chorus:
And the little life
Oh so it oversees the other side?
Arms curved, and the eyes?
The eyes?
The eyes?
Piercing into the mind
Does the little dot lead
A sphere of truth or lies
Chorus:
For humanity patiently on this side
Of time, of life, of a metaphorical rhyme
What do you see from above us
What can you prophesy?
If he were the cicada perhaps
We'd know everything
Everything
Everything
But it stays so silent
Oh so silent
Oh so silent
So we can do nothing
Except keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
Repeat:
Pre-Chorus:
Ask the little life
Does it oversees the other side?
Arms curved, and the eyes?
The eyes?
The eyes?
Piercing into the mind
Does the little dot lead
A sphere of truth or lies
Chorus:
For humanity patiently on this side
Of time, of life, of a metaphorical rhyme
What do you see from above us
What can you prophesy?
If he were the cicada perhaps
We'd know everything
Everything
Everything
But it stays so silent
Oh so silent
Oh so silent
So we can do nothing
Except keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
CODA:
Is there an unshakable truth waiting of a sweet
Awakening
That, my child, my soul, the faithful and hopeless
We have to answer from within
Do you believe?
Do you believe?
Do you believe?
Sep 13, 2024
Sep 13, 2024 at 3:28 AM UTC