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Àŧùl Mar 2015
I love you,
The best is yet to come.
Don't scramble,
Let us plan our lives.
We have it in our hands,
Luck and destiny will bend before us.

Yes we toil for it,
Both of us will put efforts.
Don't be scared dear,
Just hold my hand firmly.
What we can't individually do,
Together we will manage it all.

The sun in our sky has risen,
It will reach higher up above.
Not burning it will emblazon,
Just shining away all darkness.
How differences of ours remain,
We won't let them become large.

And yes, today I tell you darling,
Two different individuals we are.
So many of differences will ripen,
But how we treat them is unto us.
We can't let them become so large,
The love we share is much bigger.

Just practice perseverance my love,
Stay strong & toil hard we both will.
Not breaking mountains we must be,
Still challenging stay all our methods.
Zest of ours must not fail in this spirit,
Zealous we voyage on in the sea of life.

We both have that passion in ourselves,
Helping people parry off all the dangers.
Never would we worry about our past,
For we both cherish the lessons learnt.
Odds will often rise between both of us,
We won't let them disunite us any day.

This love I feel is a bit experienced,
And my experience tells me a lot.
We must never fall out separate,
Because together we're happy.
Differences do not invite rifts,
Neither should we let them...
Written under the effects of the wine called love.

My HP Poem #804
©Atul Kaushal
I.

“You can only fight the way you practice”
― Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings: The Classic Guide to Strategy


His lessons started late
As always, and as always
What is thrown is a question
You grip tightly
around your fingers
as one would,
as one always should.

With a branch he beckons:
“Come” he asks,

“if a stick is struck from this angle,
what would your answer be?”


Always, the old man taught
With each strike, each parry,
Each disarm and lock,
Each time my knuckles
Would hurt. This way
he makes it sure
that my body
remembers.

This is always
the first step.
My mind might forget.
But the body
Remembers.


II.

“It is difficult to realize the true Way just through sword-fencing. Know the smallest things and the biggest things, the shallowest things and the deepest things.”
― Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings: Miyamoto Musashi


With him, everything starts
The vague quality of nonwords
Taught from pain, simplified
Through science:

the fulcrum and the lever.

Each joint, each turn,
a pattern to comprehend,
all things work in context:

A framework of the undeniable
Fact:


the world is separate
In only these two words:


Taub at Tihaya

The colloquial words for
Face down and face up;
This is a pattern
of the body.

III.

“If you wish to control others you must first control yourself”
― Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings: The Classic Guide to Strategy


Tihaya

The lesson starts
When he presses
His thumb forward
to a hand asking for alms
like turning a doorknob
too far to the right.

Taub

when I pull back
four fingers
on a giving hand
too far to what is left.

these are the means
for control.
When I know
How much is necessary
To push or to pull,
To teach or to break.

- 18 October 2017
For my Arnis Teachers: **** Mang Boy of Orabes Henerales; **** Fred Fernandez of Arnis Defense Silat, and Patrick Gamayo, a student of both teachers and combined the two arts.

* Special thanks for Jeffrey Steven Pua for additional poetics

*the first poem was also edited bybthe author to fit a call for submission and titled it as "Tenets of the Sword" for Luminous Scans.
Sean Fitzpatrick Apr 2011
Felt like the steel tipped edges of a fake sword,
A young lover's sting, inclined to make one sob
And feel sorry

But no, not a word
Spoken 'gainst the face of the snob
Never a parry
Nor a word against sherry
Don Lane and Graham Kennedy entertain in the after life cafe




Don lane '.    Oh yeah I am putting on my top hat, and I also wear nothing else
Because I am dead now, and I don't have to worry about being appropriately dressed,
And I also have a lady sitting over at the bar, and she has great looking legs and *****,
I want to go over to her, hey lady, how are you going today
Lady'.  I am fine, and I am Marilyn Monroe
Don Lane'.   I would've loved to interview on my show
Marilyn'.  No, I heard the afterlife was a good place for me, I was famous in life, I don't want to be famous here.
Don Lane'.  Ok let's go to this table, I know you as well, refresh my memory
And yes Ricky May poured sixteen ice cubes all over Don and
Don said  well, obviously these people didn't want to be famous, ok, who are you
Man said'.  I am Don Bradman
Don Lane'.  You died before me, have you showed the afterlife how you played cricket
Don Bradman'. Yes, and we beat Saturn by 15 runs, and I finally averaged 100, it is pretty cool
Don Lane'.   Who do you play next
Don Bradman'.  Well this weekend we play the Martians from Mars
Don Lane'.  Well here is Graham Kennedy with his after life song
Well I said I wouldn't make it here
Because of the weird joked I told
And I thought the devil will own my soul
But I was stood up straight and tall
Felthad a weird beer up here, they call it AAAA
And I have always wondered since that say
What does the A mean
Then it hit me, oh silly me
The A meant Afterlife
And we are with Ricky May and Tony Grieg
And Don Bradman and Joh Bjieke peterson
Yes, this afterlife is so much fun with a AAAA in my hand,
Ok Don Lane let's parry in the afterlife
Don Lane'.  Ok thanks Graham, now here is Bon Scott with his after life song
The clouds are shaking
And the moon is rocking with the men who are put in there
To scare bad guys away from doing evil on earth
And yes, AC/DC are still going strong on Earth
And I am doing well up here , because it is so easy, man
To be fit and healthy up here, I said you
Shook the after life, all night long
Oh yeah baby, you
Shook the afterlife, all night long
Don Lane'. See you next time, bye
Helen Nov 2013
I hate digital alarm clocks.

The eerie way they light a room in the deep of night and that silent way they have of counting down the hours of life left.

It just leaves me exhausted!

At 12.47am I woke to a flickering red haze across my bedroom ceiling that seemed to spread like a stain down the walls to pool on the floor.
Now, I know I should not be reading Amityville Horror in bed, on a full stomach and I’m pretty sure that the block of chocolate that I snacked on while reading may have upped the ante in the endorphin stakes but combined with that evil digital alarm clock I was wide awake at 12.47am and the curtains at the open window were flickering across the harsh red numbers.

The oddest scene was playing around me, like a bad play where all the actors rolled around in a vat of blood before they stepped up.

Kratos and Ares, in full battle regalia where crossing swords with a ferocity of a westerly wind fleeing from Zephyrus himself. The clang of steel was loud in my head and beat a pulse behind my eyes that watched them move around the end of the bed and along the wall along side of me.

The breeze slithering through the trees and through my open window bought whispered entreaties to my ears…

“She mine Ares! I saw her first, I will have her. She is my Yin! I will possess my other half!”

Clang, clang, grunt, clang

“Kratos, you do not know me well to think that I will not fight for the one that can stand with the God of War! I will have her”

Clang, ******, parry, clang

Now, this is where I got really confused.

I was starting to think that the red haze fluttering around the room was from my bleeding eyes because it was now 4.27am and more than 3 hours of my life were gone.

How was I supposed to get that back?

I was idyllically pondering what a Yin was while being gobsmacked by the fact that I was actually the other half of something. But being the other half of Strength?

What does that make me?

Weakness?

What would my Greek name be?

Profligatus?

But that didn’t concern me more than what Ares wanted with me? How strong did he think I was? Sure, I’m a bit prickly at times but for the God of War to focus on me? ****, and I thought I had curbed my enthusiastic condemnation of humanity… Obviously I had not!

But who am I kidding! It was really very nice to have them fighting over me. I’m not really sure who drew first blood (because of the ****** evil digital alarm clock glow) but I’m sure I would have swooned into whomevers arms reached down to claim me had it not been for the sound of the evacuation alarm.

ER ER ER ER ER ER ER ER*

****, ****, ****, the sun has crept over the horizon and has lightened the darkened theater that is my bedroom and it’s the alarm clock that is shrieking a warning that it’s time to start a new day.

****! I’m not ready for this. I’m tired, I want more dreaming, or awakening, or whatever the hell that was!

Most of all I want to know…

What did it all mean?
Girard Tournesol Dec 2018
Sun and Moon posture a battle stance  
Charge of darkness parry of light          
Pagans celebrate the Sun's advance      
Four days from the longest night
Don Lane and Graham Kennedy entertain in the after life cafe




Don lane '.    Oh yeah I am putting on my top hat, and I also wear nothing else
Because I am dead now, and I don't have to worry about being appropriately dressed,
And I also have a lady sitting over at the bar, and she has great looking legs and *****,
I want to go over to her, hey lady, how are you going today
Lady'.  I am fine, and I am Marilyn Monroe
Don Lane'.   I would've loved to interview on my show
Marilyn'.  No, I heard the afterlife was a good place for me, I was famous in life, I don't want to be famous here.
Don Lane'.  Ok let's go to this table, I know you as well, refresh my memory
And yes Ricky May poured sixteen ice cubes all over Don and
Don said  well, obviously these people didn't want to be famous, ok, who are you
Man said'.  I am Don Bradman
Don Lane'.  You died before me, have you showed the afterlife how you played cricket
Don Bradman'. Yes, and we beat Saturn by 15 runs, and I finally averaged 100, it is pretty cool
Don Lane'.   Who do you play next
Don Bradman'.  Well this weekend we play the Martians from Mars
Don Lane'.  Well here is Graham Kennedy with his after life song
Well I said I wouldn't make it here
Because of the weird joked I told
And I thought the devil will own my soul
But I was stood up straight and tall
Felthad a weird beer up here, they call it AAAA
And I have always wondered since that say
What does the A mean
Then it hit me, oh silly me
The A meant Afterlife
And we are with Ricky May and Tony Grieg
And Don Bradman and Joh Bjieke peterson
Yes, this afterlife is so much fun with a AAAA in my hand,
Ok Don Lane let's parry in the afterlife
Don Lane'.  Ok thanks Graham, now here is Bon Scott with his after life song
The clouds are shaking
And the moon is rocking with the men who are put in there
To scare bad guys away from doing evil on earth
And yes, AC/DC are still going strong on Earth
And I am doing well up here , because it is so easy, man
To be fit and healthy up here, I said you
Shook the after life, all night long
Oh yeah baby, you
Shook the afterlife, all night long
Don Lane'. See you next time, bye
F White Jun 2012
I can see the weakness
in my own words- their
weary Translucence,

even as I
wind my euphemisms and parry
****
snip the comma off,

attempt to catch my thoughts
before venom leaks out
of my em-dash.

but I can't.
Won't.
take back any
noun I flung

And So.

as you
walk down the hall

I see my adjectives
Just-
dripping off your
neck
rolling down the corridor

fat, black
and innocuous

and somehow feel
that I have
completely failed

at English.
copyright fhw, 2012
Jodie LindaMae Nov 2014
The nights have become the most difficult
(Never sleep again, never rest again)
To manage.
Deeper, dreadfully
I soar into what I do not believe,
Into a pain much too real
And much more haunting
Than I have ever experienced.
The ghosts are back, Stephen,
They have returned to become the captain
Of my being,
To lust and breed and **** again.
I feign interest
And parry their blows back
Though my defenses are falling
And the blanket on my bed
Is never,
(Never sleep, never lay)
Ever quite long enough to cover me.
My worries today
Are an overheating boiler,
(COME QUICK I NEED HELP
I'M DYING HERE)

Pumping steam and pressure
Out of my jagged edges.

It is getting harder and harder to breathe.
Do you believe in God, Stephen?
I know Kubrick called you and asked the same
Many years before my birth,
But today I need your answer more than ever,
In that my every move seems to propel me
Into many-a-numbered
Ceiling and wall traps
And I am being crushed,
(Never sleep, never rest)
Soiled and trampled at the hand of fate.
I once thought myself too intelligent to believe,
But now I need a higher faith
If only to know that darkness is never truly darkness
And the candles I have left burning in my body
Will never be blown out.

Did you really see that boy,
That childhood friend of yours
Struck down by a train
In your ever so tender youth?
Was his blood and brain matter
What came to you in your darkest hour
As you wrote about presidential suites
And Danny Torrance seeing reverse ******
Played out in front of him for eternity?
Is ****** played out for eternity in your mind,
Too?
(Do you Shine, Stephen?)

They taught us about you in school, Stephen.
They made you out to be a God in yourself,
A novel machine
Intent on overpowering the industry
For your own gain and prosperity.
But those who read you,
(Those who know, those who feel)
Know you as a human.
You spirit, you singer,
You light of my life,
(You twisted man, you monster, you seer of sights)
You have kept the world alive
With sparks and shines
Under eyelids
For decades.

Stephen, I have stuck my hand in the wasp nest again.
Bring me your salvation.
Bring me
(Your understanding, your writer-virtue.)

And so I write to you today,
A young girl of but 18
With her own Shine set to murderous visions
And Terrifying conundrums.
My ghosts follow swiftly in my foot trails
And your novels warm my lap as I try
(So hard, so)
Desperately
To hear your voice,
Bellowing with contempt,
Your tone so monotonous and
Matter of fact,
Even when speaking of such malicious things
I have to stop children from buying your movies at my job
Because I could get in trouble if they see
Jack Torrance kissing a decaying woman
Or Carrie being burned alive in her prayer closet.
(I could get in trouble with the law
If they see the truth you speak,
The tales of loss and preservation you weave.)


Because of you and the horror you have struck me with,
I leave the lights on.
I am fearful
(But so hopeful)
Within myself each day.

Because of you
I have seen men and women
Find peace
Within their own private Overlook Hotels
Housed deep and high
In the mountains of their own consciousness.
Because of you
I have found
(Breathe in, breathe out,
Nothing to see here)

Solace
In my self-contained
Madness.
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2013
Adversity climbs aboard when least we can afford it
The gremlins of the fools of fate are primed to raid the ship,
Murphy's Law adds substance to the soup's interpretation
And the parasites engage with glee when first, they take a sip.

Resistance at its lowest in the darkest throes of struggle
Endurance at its lowest ebb when caste against the tide,
The secret's in the stance and stare which moulds the way to combat
Determined by the grit and heart and fibre deep inside.

Bad enough to buckle in initial ****** and parry
Bad enough to give concession well before it's due,
Hard enough to muster the support of all and sundry
When corrosion from within is unraveling the glue.

Sleep eludes the tired mind and worry lines occur
The Bank you've used for 30 years has fled,
Your dependents you supported in their time of dire need
Will no longer meet your gaze or keep you fed.

And the crowning factor crushing you is not the battle waged
It is not the lack of energy or will,
The crushing blow which flattens you and leaves you destitute
Is that FAMILY leads the charge to wish you ill!


Marshalg
In support of my dearest, dearest Sister.
12 August 2013
As the cobra falters before it doth strike I recoil away from thee, awaiting my moment to ricochet forward and make my ****. Such false security aids my real course and weakens my adversary’s resolve and as you happily take full advantage of this ill advised programme you can rely that your mistake is now my gain. As you plunge, I parry and as your momentum fades mine increases in velocity until my blade doth find its target.

This sword of mine, made of finest worked, metal, slides easily through your personage. Flesh, muscle, even bone presents a none problem for this well forged tool. Sharpened point now immersed so deeply through your core that it conveys me too close to this pierced torso. I am spattered by such spurts of blood and sickened by another’s foul breath.

We gaze for a moment, you in the horror and pain of defeat and myself in the satisfaction of victory. You remain upright only through the skewer I have delivered and it is at my decree that you do so. As I withdraw my being the blade extracts itself and it is only then that you are allowed to descend to your indubitable destination.

As crumpled legs can no longer hold the weight of thee I use the momentum of this blades removal to pirouette my body. The spin that culminates with such a strike, a laceration so immense that the removal of your skull is no more than a mere triviality. Your destination is now complete. This is the legitimate place for a lesser man and the norm for a superior warrior than thee.

Come take this gift dear Lucifer, I make a present to you of death's cadaver, it lies here before me at this very moment and it is yours. A donation from one great warrior to another. It seems that I fill such a bottomless pit with unworthy adversary. They suppose honour holds them to stand before such a skilled combatant but their is no morality for lesser men to try. There is no such thing as a honourable fool.

I seek he that will try my skills, he that will take me to the brink of death with more than a single strike. For this person I will gladly redeem as a worthy opponent, for he, I will present my respect in more than a just a mere bow. Such adversary should he become victorious will possess a legacy that will draw him to the status of majesty. I would gladly fall to this superior being and as such, this would be a most fitting and virtuous death.
10th August  2013 Posted Aug 26th 2014 © Copyright Christopher K Bayliss 2014.
Eileen Prunster Jul 2012
As I plunge the blade towards her heart
She wraps her arms around me
I wrestle her off to plunge again
she clings on tight, fights on in vain
We feint and parry though she stands in one spot
For she is a rose rambler and pruning my lot
Winter pruning while the suns out and pondering the sanity of keeping an English garden... ;o)
Hannah A Dec 2013
Hope is dangerous
Perhaps that's why it hangs around on street corners
And in doorways
Waiting to waylay me as I pass through
To get my morning coffee

I've been fighting with Hope
But it doesn't fight fair
It has a shiv that cuts deeply into my heart
And the parry fractures on my ulnae
Say more about its victory over my defenses
Than these inadequate words ever can.

Hope has a rap sheet a mile long
And when it comes knocking,
Part of me knows it would probably be better
To turn out the lights and pretend I'm not home

But I'm recklessly unafraid.
And the danger excites me.
And I climb on the back of Hope's motorcycle
Not caring that he's taking the curves too fast
And I let hope sneak me out of the house in the middle of the night
Running away together into the night
Knowing full well that when the morning comes,
He will be long gone.

Hope has me sitting in this car in an abandoned shipyard
Waiting for the drop
Believing, against all sanity, that you will show up
To make the exchange
To continue the deal.
Hope is reckless and fearless
Hope is the explanation behind every one of these scars

I haven't seen you in a long time, but
Foolishly, I still believe in your promise
And soon, the court date with Hope will come
And my love for you will stand trial
Though it's never been anything but innocent,
I know I would be found guilty, time and again
Hope blasphemously sits in the judges chair
Feet up on the railing
As he waits for you to show up and swear in.

Hope brokers back-door deals with me in the passenger seat
Leads me down dark alleys at 2 in the morning
Making promises nobody could ever keep
He keeps my bank account at an all-time low
He holds the gun to my ribcage in the tattoo parlor and asks, one more time
"Will this save you? Will this make you free?"

Hope is an exercise in flirtation with disaster
Except that Hope doesn't know how to flirt,
Doesn't do anything halfway -
It becomes an exercise in falling in love with disaster
Finding beauty in the broken things.

I'm begging you -
I know Hope is dangerous
But please don't tear him away from me
Dear god, please.
Because if you leave this time
If you fail me now
If you walk away, he walks with you.
Despair becomes my only company

And though dangerous, Hope is exciting
Despair just hands me the bottle of tequila
And shaking his head knowingly, tells me
To drink until it's empty
To say goodbye to you and Hope
The only way I can
Chimera melons Mar 2010
fireflies zigzag following pupils pin *****
light mayonaise layers dead flesh and dead seeds
shadows bleed through the cracks
a lone train howls its hastening arrival
Alarming call like an unseen wolf

Flashing lights overhead and a low rumble
a condensed storm
helicopter cradling its dying cargo
bringing a regurgitation for the baby bird
disguised as a hospital with a faltering business plan

mufflers and mosquitoes parry the blows
winded joggers step next to termite eaten trees
Channel surfing seen         a strobe lite
betraying the activities behind the neighboors
curtained windows            scene
rituals carve another day into the known
comfort is routines cage
a worn trail rut that hardly allows
a different direction      roll the stone uphill
demons will haunt your dreams if plagarism even crosses your mind .
all rights  reserved
My words are my armour, my blade, my security.
I use their definitive purpose to strike, to wound, to ****.
I have no need to use an actual knife, my rapier bladed tongue
cuts with an accuracy of a surgeons scalpel.
If you have no parry, or riposte, I'll Épée a thrusting word like the sword.
Your entire being is a valid target, I cannot fight with fists, I cannot crush
you physically, but mentally I will make you my target for words.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones! but words will never hurt me"

Oh, but they will hurt. Long after a scar has healed, a cut has scabbed,
words will linger, haunt and remind your every waking moment of the day you picked a fight, a dalliance if you will with a lexicographer.
© JLB
30/07/2014
14:14 BST
Joanne Fuda Sep 2013
Sweet dawn
Sunrise, day
You must leave the night queen's bay..
Spy lovers lingering
Love still goes on
See the wonder
The light in the night,
The sigh of my heart as the arrow strikes
The tune in my bed
Races around in my head                                            
You..  with me..
Let the music play..
Wine and verse, parry the chord
Take my breath,
*Don't say another word
Preech Mar 2013
(Before you read this, this is only applicable to my experience, I'm not judging you if this is still your life; it's written more because it was my life and I wasn't living.)


At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.
Bored of chasing a broken prize, smoke n lies
I chose to thrive, pry open these permanently closing eyes.
It was the bane of my existence,
now my resistance is high instead of me.
I better be the best pedigree of I.
Instead of the guy flying with eyes far from wide
spying those that despise trying to get inside my mind,
to find they aren't real. Addicted no longer,
uplifted, higher than leaves can carry,
now you’re green with envy while I parry
back your attacks and crack on.
I blow-back your slow trap and reflect upon your affliction
I’m best without your friction on my lungs,
now I’m cutting you with the diction from my tongue,
no grinder.  Now my mind’s up to speed,
no amphetamine, no dependency,
it certainly seems that I’m living better than I could ever dream.
I’m an evergreen standing steady for centuries.
At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.
Mitchell Oct 2018
Faster
Striking, lashing, dashing
His blade against mine
Lives at stake
Not mine, not mine
It must be him
Faster
I strike, he parries, I strike again
It goes through
A flash of red
A gasp of air
Not his
Mine
No!
Faster
Weakening, faltering
He strikes and strikes
Move!
I can’t
I can’t
Rushing, rushing
Blood to my head, to my side
Blurring, rushing
Parry! Riposte!
No!
Again
Again
Faster
Blade to blade
Clashing, biting
Rushing, rushing
Parry! Riposte!
Stop!
Time slows
Rushing, rushing
Unmoving
My blade, his
His blade
Downward
His throat
Faster!
I slash
He stabs
Scarlet droplets fly
Pain
Pain
My blade in his throat
His in my chest
Pain
Darkness
Nothing
I'm intending this for some kind of performative poetry, perhaps slam poetry
This was originally a small piece of impromptu writing I did.
I would love some criticism

The original is here: https://writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/86216/version/163138
Thomas Dec 2014
My name is Thomas de Charney
16 years old but rarely play
Father a humble Templar Knight
Pedigree noble bloodline might

Was born special is all I know
For God’s direction to and fro
Shield from danger ab ovo
Reason revealed from His glow

Broadsword and lance, reading abound
Practice and fight til victors crowned
Warrior and Monk seen as one
One and Only Begotten Son

Father taught me the skill to fight
Learn skill to read on parchment write
Knight Templar to be, but then what ?
Fate left to God with no rebut

Then one day Father came to me
Young Parsifal son you will be
Sequestrated as directed
Pushed to excel unaffected

Templar Knight who carries his sword
Doing God’s work for no reward
Beget with specific design
Some day made known I do consign
_____________
Father, it’s time we practice, yes—deke the
wield of your sword and parry your blows, and
push myself until all the sweat has left my
body. For I am a young Parsifal soon to become
a Templar Knight.
This series eventually parallels The Time Machine series, where I have released the first poem to that series.    This poem needs to be worked on and converted to Iambic Tetrameter.   Many of the lines are already there  e.g.  "some DAY made KNOWN i DO con-SIGN"

but, I still like it as it, so I'll eventually get there.  

This is a story of a young boy who becomes a famous Templar Knight, but along the way, many supernatural events shine though, as does a girl named Dagung.
Vanessa Nichols Nov 2011
I am not a martyr.
I am not so pious as to suffer the slashing of a knife-edged tongue.
For what cause?

What peace could my silence bring me?

My tongue is metal too.
Perhaps not as sharp as yours,
My words still have the soft scent of gold about them,
But it is metal too.
And I am not a martyr.

I remember when you coddled my name on your tongue.
It was safe there against the slick muscle and gentle press of taste buds.
Why is simple sentiment and unblemished truth to complex for you now?

I don’t want to play these games of ****** and parry with you anymore.
I am cut, you are bleeding, and we are both weary
From the constant cleaving of delicate flesh.

It is a bitter taste that blooms as steel is folded into my tongue
By life and time and all the things we never talk about.
My mouth is tinged with metal and my breath is wet with blood.


This, my love, is a battle for fools to partake in.
My tongue is not yet a blade, too dull for cutting.
All I want to be is soft flesh and slick muscle.
I am not holy enough to stomach the taste of blood on the back of my teeth.

I am not a martyr and neither are you.
So I’ll go.
Eros:
the days leap as they should,
over serrated blades of grass: brightly,
transcendentally.
i open the voluminous page
of the twilight: it is October bruised
with brindled water.
white is the color of your laughter,
nourishing the noise of heart, crumpled
over the virginal sheet.
in the staring mirror dizzy with life,
shining with a sudden image
in sempiternal fume: both of us,
twining, entering each other
even before the world was complete,
heavy with your hair, lithe with
your embrace, eyes gorged with
  naked visions,
hands flayed, full of hours—
i make your ample sea my scarce wave's
anchorage, erasing the twinge
by habit of shores.
i weep: you are filling the world with your own light now drowning the shadows
in the depths of their caves, choking
the silence, wringing out the leafage
of your body's inflorescence.
in vivid decree of your smile, you have
made me the cargo of minutes
rummaging across the dunes of lust:
the tousled sheets,
nearing, coming to me, swarming
soft body: we fell into the hollow of sleep.

Thanatos:
here at the lip of the bed
receiving our smallness, the days—
felled into the night, stilled,
in this finite hour a darker blue
is given; i speak not of love.
how are we alive here?
raining inward, above the brim
of an open window, do you wind-hover?
your voice has escaped the dungeon
of my mouth, and the twining of
our fingers give birth to a forest of specters and a moonless love demanded.
i beat through your harsh curve;
i go tracing your eyebrow
engulfed in the festering fever
of half-light marches and the faint spark
of autumn leaving no tawny scent—
there is only silence peregrinating
in the room before you and after I,
it began to pour in our room,
both of us struck down to mortals
together with a feint recall i cannot parry:
we fell into a bottomless hollow of eyes,
chasing our chained breaths, wordless.
Star BG Jan 2020
En-garde fellow poet
who stands with gold pen sword.
Raise thy weapon and duel with me
in bout with words.
My tool be sharp with potent prose.
sonneteer stand is ready to fight

Yes En-garde I say
for be know to slain one with a  mighty song.
And I am Known to gather crowds
who watch many a victory

Un-garde I echo with parry to cut thy thoughts.
With sabre pen sharp with ink red.
Perhaps than you shall bleed
as we will meet upon ground of page.

En--garde you who cast a shadow
of judgment with they eyes
For battle shall commence
on Fields a plenty
And I will win a sun for sure.
just playing with thoughts of fencing with a pen
Laura Mankowski Oct 2014
"How are you?"
The crispness of your voice, cracking the surface of the perfect silence
It snaps me out of my own thoughts
Eyes focused, smile on; "Fine" I manage
"Good" you ramble and continue on to yourself; I assume since you skipped the pause -
The pause where you debate if I'm telling the truth
I retreat back into my thoughts
Eyes transfixed on that spot in the distance
The one I'll draw to me if I
Just
Keep
Staring
I'm not sure how long I've been gone, but judging by the renewed silence, I've missed my cue
To back up your outrage
Or congradulate your assertiveness
Blah blah blah
"Are you listening?"
The tone a little more inquisitive, eyes a little more searching
Eyes focused, smile on, "Sure" I try
You sigh and wait
I'm happy to let the silence have it's turn to talk
You clear your throat
I sit
"Fine", you lunge- trying to pierce my armor
I parry, not baited
Who has time to be sad?
Why talk about feelings?
What I want, who I miss, how to cope
I smile weakly
"I'm fine"
Change the subject
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2014
Four crows, black on cloud,
Dark, sordid wings parry and ******—
Murdering white skies.
Nova Star Sep 2010
Betrayal
in her eyes
as truth settles in
to watch the show.
I try for calm,
but poison butterflies
grow claws
and rip my words
to shreds.
I parry with Honesty,
taking hits so sudden
my breath has no choice but to retreat,
wondering why Justice played
her Champion
so late.
I couldn't see
what I had destroyed at the time.
Or perhaps
I wouldn't look
Consequence in the eye.
Now
Here it all is.
It stares me down.
I can't watch
the emotions dance
through her mind.
Defeat is imminent
so I accept
the fate of my secrets
because finally
I can see
**what I've done.
Brother Jimmy May 2016
And then she said
It's time for bed
As up the stair she led me

And as time flew
I knew it true
'Twas fate that she should bed me

That bright young girl
With skirts that twirl
Was never meant to parry

And on that day
It's fair to say
I knew that we would marry
Kevin OLeary May 2011
A semblance of civility
Blurs my true periphery

Catch my eye, draw me in
Drop the ball, it reeks of sin

Elsewhere in this hedgerow maze
Freedom lies throughout the haze

Growing now beyond its bounds
Happenstance, it stains the grounds

If you should stumble, lose your way
Join in the chorus of the day

Knowing can be all the difference
Leave me to my present-tense

Mind the guardians, ever-wary
Noose the neck, a strike to parry

Open your eyes and let it go
Perhaps there's magic in the snow

Quality is oh-so subjective
Reality needs no further directive

Something bleeds within the court(ship)
Tending only to the tongue-slip

Under sway: Of push and pull
Victorious is the slaughtered bull

When do we know the truth of all?
X-crossed eyes before the fall

Young blood taints these monuments
Zero is the question we can't make sense.
Violet light Bleaches steaming emptied emus' bladders on time, I want I want I am amongst the Atman at dusk man's lust rises ****** parry as a guardian of the gourd the glory of the gore internal innards languish read the spare change small children inquire currency smell of bleach eases the crucible fixing my easel with ease as all society is, is a trap, a trap lime citrus as sweet as Virginity as **** as a tarp pushing out rain water for a creature's belief in solidarity, soil begs to return sustained by nourishment of the water table and rain shadow, fees lie fallow I am a three field system mid evil as a midwife. aggregate agates gating Gaelic gaiety, fair as faith fairly free as a fairy, pixie sticks mixed well with angel dust I return my receipt as I am an alchemist to Egypt saying 2 sips taste better, who's at a crude joke who explains rude yokes poked by a spear leering silence at the steer awaiting an opacity to light my lantern, forsake advancement for the sun bends gravity as an attitude, who of many resist the power of effulgence, even lycanthropes need hope for the souls as the basis of reflection brings the rains sparked in rainbows.

What makes a friend? cogar a creyo una mi Amiga Bonita hace difficl estoy muy triste para la pnta y ala comer mierda.

UV is not a Cavalier, the ultra violet alpha is a royalist
John F McCullagh Jan 2019
Dearest creature in creation
Studying English pronunciation,
   I will teach you in my verse
   Sounds like corpse, corps, horse and worse.

I will keep you, Susy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy;
   Tear in eye, your dress you'll tear;
   Queer, fair seer, hear my prayer.

Pray, console your loving poet,
Make my coat look new, dear, sew it!
   Just compare heart, hear and heard,
   Dies and diet, lord and word.

Sword and sward, retain and Britain
(Mind the latter how it's written).
   Made has not the sound of bade,
   Say-said, pay-paid, laid but plaid.

Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as vague and ague,
   But be careful how you speak,
   Say: gush, bush, steak, streak, break, bleak ,

Previous, precious, fuchsia, via
Recipe, pipe, studding-sail, choir;
   Woven, oven, how and low,
   Script, receipt, shoe, poem, toe.

Say, expecting fraud and trickery:
Daughter, laughter and Terpsichore,
   Branch, ranch, measles, topsails, aisles,
   Missiles, similes, reviles.

Wholly, holly, signal, signing,
Same, examining, but mining,
   Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
   Solar, mica, war and far.

From "desire": desirable-admirable from "admire",
Lumber, plumber, bier, but brier,
   Topsham, brougham, renown, but known,
   Knowledge, done, lone, gone, none, tone,

One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel.
   Gertrude, German, wind and wind,
   Beau, kind, kindred, queue, mankind,

Tortoise, turquoise, chamois-leather,
Reading, Reading, heathen, heather.
   This phonetic labyrinth
   Gives moss, gross, brook, brooch, ninth, plinth.

Have you ever yet endeavoured
To pronounce revered and severed,
   Demon, lemon, ghoul, foul, soul,
   Peter, petrol and patrol?

Billet does not end like ballet;
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
   Blood and flood are not like food,
   Nor is mould like should and would.

Banquet is not nearly parquet,
Which exactly rhymes with khaki.
   Discount, viscount, load and broad,
   Toward, to forward, to reward,

Ricocheted and crocheting, croquet?
Right! Your pronunciation's OK.
   Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
   Friend and fiend, alive and live.

Is your r correct in higher?
Keats asserts it rhymes Thalia.
   Hugh, but hug, and hood, but hoot,
   Buoyant, minute, but minute.

Say abscission with precision,
Now: position and transition;
   Would it tally with my rhyme
   If I mentioned paradigm?

Twopence, threepence, tease are easy,
But cease, crease, grease and greasy?
   Cornice, nice, valise, revise,
   Rabies, but lullabies.

Of such puzzling words as nauseous,
Rhyming well with cautious, tortious,
   You'll envelop lists, I hope,
   In a linen envelope.

Would you like some more? You'll have it!
Affidavit, David, davit.
   To abjure, to perjure. Sheik
   Does not sound like Czech but ache.

Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, loch, moustache, eleven.
   We say hallowed, but allowed,
   People, leopard, towed but vowed.

Mark the difference, moreover,
Between mover, plover, Dover.
   Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
   Chalice, but police and lice,

Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
   Petal, penal, and canal,
   Wait, surmise, plait, promise, pal,

Suit, suite, ruin. Circuit, conduit
Rhyme with "shirk it" and "beyond it",
   But it is not hard to tell
   Why it's pall, mall, but Pall Mall.

Muscle, muscular, gaol, iron,
Timber, climber, bullion, lion,
   Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
   Senator, spectator, mayor,

Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
Has the a of drachm and hammer.
   *****, ***** and possess,
   Desert, but desert, address.

Golf, wolf, countenance, lieutenants
Hoist in lieu of flags left pennants.
   Courier, courtier, tomb, bomb, comb,
   Cow, but Cowper, some and home.

"Solder, soldier! Blood is thicker",
Quoth he, "than liqueur or liquor",
   Making, it is sad but true,
   In bravado, much ado.

Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
   Pilot, pivot, gaunt, but aunt,
   Font, front, wont, want, grand and grant.

Arsenic, specific, scenic,
Relic, rhetoric, hygienic.
   Gooseberry, goose, and close, but close,
   Paradise, rise, rose, and dose.

Say inveigh, neigh, but inveigle,
Make the latter rhyme with eagle.
   Mind! Meandering but mean,
   Valentine and magazine.

And I bet you, dear, a penny,
You say mani-(fold) like many,
   Which is wrong. Say rapier, pier,
   Tier (one who ties), but tier.

Arch, archangel; pray, does erring
Rhyme with herring or with stirring?
   Prison, bison, treasure trove,
   Treason, hover, cover, cove,

Perseverance, severance. Ribald
Rhymes (but piebald doesn't) with nibbled.
   Phaeton, paean, gnat, ghat, gnaw,
   Lien, psychic, shone, bone, pshaw.

Don't be down, my own, but rough it,
And distinguish buffet, buffet;
   Brood, stood, roof, rook, school, wool, boon,
   Worcester, Boleyn, to impugn.

Say in sounds correct and sterling
Hearse, hear, hearken, year and yearling.
   Evil, devil, mezzotint,
   Mind the z! (A gentle hint.)

Now you need not pay attention
To such sounds as I don't mention,
   Sounds like pores, pause, pours and paws,
   Rhyming with the pronoun yours;

Nor are proper names included,
Though I often heard, as you did,
   Funny rhymes to unicorn,
   Yes, you know them, Vaughan and Strachan.

No, my maiden, coy and comely,
I don't want to speak of Cholmondeley.
   No. Yet Froude compared with proud
   Is no better than McLeod.

But mind trivial and vial,
Tripod, menial, denial,
   Troll and trolley, realm and ream,
   Schedule, mischief, schism, and scheme.

Argil, gill, Argyll, gill. Surely
May be made to rhyme with Raleigh,
   But you're not supposed to say
   Piquet rhymes with sobriquet.

Had this invalid invalid
Worthless documents? How pallid,
   How uncouth he, couchant, looked,
   When for Portsmouth I had booked!

Zeus, Thebes, Thales, Aphrodite,
Paramour, enamoured, flighty,
   Episodes, antipodes,
   Acquiesce, and obsequies.

Please don't monkey with the geyser,
Don't peel 'taters with my razor,
   Rather say in accents pure:
   Nature, stature and mature.

Pious, impious, limb, climb, glumly,
Worsted, worsted, crumbly, dumbly,
   Conquer, conquest, vase, phase, fan,
   Wan, sedan and artisan.

The th will surely trouble you
More than r, ch or w.
   Say then these phonetic gems:
   Thomas, thyme, Theresa, Thames.

Thompson, Chatham, Waltham, Streatham,
There are more but I forget 'em-
   Wait! I've got it: Anthony,
   Lighten your anxiety.

The archaic word albeit
Does not rhyme with eight-you see it;
   With and forthwith, one has voice,
   One has not, you make your choice.

Shoes, goes, does *. Now first say: finger;
Then say: singer, ginger, linger.
   Real, zeal, mauve, gauze and gauge,
   Marriage, foliage, mirage, age,

Hero, heron, query, very,
Parry, tarry fury, bury,
   Dost, lost, post, and doth, cloth, loth,
   Job, Job, blossom, *****, oath.

Faugh, oppugnant, keen oppugners,
Bowing, bowing, banjo-tuners
   Holm you know, but noes, canoes,
   Puisne, truism, use, to use?

Though the difference seems little,
We say actual, but victual,
   Seat, sweat, chaste, caste, Leigh, eight, height,
   Put, nut, granite, and unite.

****** does not rhyme with deafer,
Feoffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
   Dull, bull, Geoffrey, George, ate, late,
   Hint, pint, senate, but sedate.

Gaelic, Arabic, pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific;
   Tour, but our, dour, succour, four,
   Gas, alas, and Arkansas.

Say manoeuvre, yacht and *****,
Next omit, which differs from it
   Bona fide, alibi
   Gyrate, dowry and awry.

Sea, idea, guinea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
   Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean,
   Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion with battalion,
   Rally with ally; yea, ye,
   Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, key, quay!

Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, receiver.
   Never guess-it is not safe,
   We say calves, valves, half, but Ralf.

Starry, granary, canary,
Crevice, but device, and eyrie,
   Face, but preface, then grimace,
   Phlegm, phlegmatic, ***, glass, bass.

Bass, large, target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, oust, joust, and scour, but scourging;
   Ear, but earn; and ere and tear
   Do not rhyme with here but heir.

Mind the o of off and often
Which may be pronounced as orphan,
   With the sound of saw and sauce;
   Also soft, lost, cloth and cross.

Pudding, puddle, putting. Putting?
Yes: at golf it rhymes with shutting.
   Respite, spite, consent, resent.
   Liable, but Parliament.

Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew, Stephen,
   Monkey, donkey, clerk and ****,
   Asp, grasp, wasp, demesne, cork, work.

A of valour, vapid vapour,
S of news (compare newspaper),
   G of gibbet, gibbon, gist,
   I of antichrist and grist,

Differ like diverse and divers,
Rivers, strivers, shivers, fivers.
   Once, but *****, toll, doll, but roll,
   Polish, Polish, poll and poll.

Pronunciation-think of Psyche!-
Is a paling, stout and spiky.
   Won't it make you lose your wits
   Writing groats and saying "grits"?

It's a dark abyss or tunnel
Strewn with stones like rowlock, gunwale,
   Islington, and Isle of Wight,
   Housewife, verdict and indict.

Don't you think so, reader, rather,
Saying lather, bather, father?
   Finally, which rhymes with enough,
   Though, through, bough, cough, hough, sough, tough??

Hiccough has the sound of sup...
My advice is: GIVE IT UP!
Not one of mine but I thought it a fun look at our funny language
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Four crows, black on cloud,
Dark, sordid wings parry and ******—
Murdering white skies.
jimmy tee Oct 2013
an alter ego I’ll invent
a handsome know it all agent
to whim and parry the low event
and explain the thought I really meant
it was so here then there it went
settled under the Sheik of Arabia’s tent
in desert camp under the firmament



Saturday, October 26, 2013
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2014
Four crows, black on cloud,
Dark, sordid wings parry and ******—
Murdering white skies.

— The End —