"pretext" poems
He lets her touch him intimately, without emotion
when in some pretext she is alone,
in his cubicle with him, discussing things inane,
a software environs need not be concerned
some times when she passes through,
her longing crosses limits, these days
it has become frequent, to the extent others to notice.
she found silly excuses, fifth time this morning
but he can't hurt her feeling, a team member valued,
she contributes to his success, as the team leader
He can see her need for comfort,
under her tired eyes dark shadows of sleepiness
lay curled like a depressed mongrel,
yet another duel she had with that nincompoop
she calls her husband, all through last night;
a sudden pang he feels calls his wife
asks if she is fine, to ease his guilt that raises
its head like a snake from under the cover of grass.
"A housewife has a thousand things to do, why don't you
find a buxom colleague to flirt, if that is the need"
she banters and teases him on his illogical concerns.
Through the glass parting he discreetly watches her face
heard a murmur arising inside,"the ***** plans the next move"
panicked he tried to concentrate on the screen
that looked frightening, the deadline getting nearer and nearer
by each hour, he heard the heavy foot fall
at that moment he heard a thud, as if something fell down
everyone was running towards her workstation.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
Is the only way through
situations the passage inside?
Detach my spirit and hover
from above at
the height of light
Where should I transfer
my trash?
the recycling box
doesn't seem half bad
but it requires sorting
what goes where
and eventually
it will transmogrify
and come back in the form
of a coffee cup sipping'
on my new lovers eyes
that I will of course,
repeat the pattern
of romantic disaster
and time bombs
of imminent arrival
holding out...
how long could one stifle
a much needed expression
that was sublimated
under the pretext
of ultimatum
do or die
love me or not
understand or dissipate
commit or let go
for as long as the rest
of remembrance
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldret, Kenya;[email protected])
Do you remember one era in Kenya?
During the dark days of dictatorship
When Daniel arap Moi
Was the tyrannical president of Kenya
And darkness of leadership
Loomed like the dark clouds of el Niño
When forty district commissioners
Out of the total of forty two were kalenjins?
Whose main work was to spy and terrorize
As the people forlornly groaned under the heavy
Yoke of state terror of tribal torment
When the president claims that
He was not aware of such tyranny,
When we used to sing a lame poem
Of jokoo! Jokoo! Jokoo! Jokoo!
On empty stomachs with no hope of food
No hope of jobs or even education
Street children swelling on the street
In total political nonchalance of arap Moi
As he only gave free milk to his own kalenjin youths
In Kabaraka schools, the Kabaraka school which was
Overfunded by the poor tax payers money,
Please President Uhuru Kenyatta as good as you are
With your dear humane heart of Bantu conscience
As you are armed to teeth with modern education
**** sapiens Gentility and polished diplomacy
Superb in quality of thought and supremacy of choices
The government of Kenya is yours and the people of Kenya
Are your political darlings, true bandwagons for ever
Kindly listen and buy my poemetics, my dear president
Remove Daniel Moi from the state house of Kenya,
Let not Daniel Moi be your adviser
Ignore him and embrace Kenyans
For common future happiness
Even if Daniel Moi is old, the truth is different
He is not a good man, he is full of Machiavelli
His full badness is measured in absurdity
Of terribly and horrendously crashed *** crushed
Testicles of poemcrats and political leaders
Of Kenya of yore and today,
Truth meted in When koigi wa wamwere became
A permanent staff of kamiti maximum prison without pension
Wangari Mathai beaten like an animal in a hunters trap
Ngugi wa Thiong’o jobless and detained without trial
Raila Amolo odinga’s testicles went missing
He looks for them on daily circadian
But once he nears their political pigeonhole
Then elections of the times flops, O! Poor Odinga!
President Uhuru Kenyatta with your suave intellect
You won’t get a pretext to say that
I was not aware or not informed
Please dear darling of the people
The people of Kenya in their 42 tribes
Novate Moi with the people
And your legacy will smile.
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
a pretext to the international audience..i am posting this as my rendition of the infamous tales of friendship turned love times...i tried to translate it into the universal language but it would fail to do justice . Yet if there is someone who would like to still understand what this will all be about ..message me and i shall give u the essence..happy reading :)
-----------dost ya zadda?----------------
ek ladka aur ladki kabhi dost nahi ** sakte,
keh gaye buzarg sab,nahi samajhti peedia
kis baat ka hai sharmana aab, par kaisi hai ye deewangi , jo dikhati mujhe pyaar aur tumhe dosti kitne kam samaye me hum kahan se kahan pohonch gaye , aur iss douran ham ek dusre ko kitna samajh gaye. tumhari bechaini samjhane ki , aur meri shiddat tumhe samajhne ki, chaand aata ,tehelta aur chala jata par hum na soote,jab log jaagte hum soote ,kya din the voh. in mukhauto ke peeche chupi jo asliat thi,jo unchui thi ,tum chu gaye , aur bass dil me bas gaye mahine guzar gaye aur kuch kehne ko dil chahta hai , par kya ye sahi rasta hai? kya ye mujhe aapne ghar pohoncha dega , ya banjara chod dega? najaane kab ye faisale aagay aur mujhe tumse door legaye jis dosti me aaj tak kuch nahi chipa ..aaj usme tijoria hai ... aaj usme gussa hai ,aag hai.. aaj isme gussa hai.
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
long time friend, don't lie
I can see you
your sincerest hour
when you come with tail between legs
there is pretext
lie about lies, stop stop
it don't matter
ascend disconnection
the whothewhatthewherethewhenthewhythe or the howthe
give no pooh-bah
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 6:45 AM UTC
The quirky signboard said it in bold
Welcome to the house of Sweet Fragrance
*Here your hair will be shaped in the finest mould
While you relax in blissful trance!*
I stopped by this name cute and smart
A hair losing shop called Sweet Fragrance
Tempted to go in though I needed no cut
Too impressed to keep a distance!
I stepped into a house with the finest smell
With the pretext to unburden my head of some hair
It was a Garden of Eden away from hell
A dreamy languor pervaded its air!
There wasn’t in the glasses a face to look
The place seemed a haven for the peacefully mute
I was offered a chair in the dimmest lit nook
To surrender myself to the forbidden fruit!
Time stopped blurred away my sight
I felt such bliss had no second chance
Knew why Adam embraced his plight
*Succumbed to Eve’s Sweet Fragrance!*
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
As the Protagonist expects
*** as a pretext
Baffles intellects
In an election context
So it’s no mystery
That he does this ya see
When ancient history
Can be so blistery
Given the nomenclature
Of its prurient nature
Clearly I would hate to
Be forced to debate you
But the Protagonist
Has long been doing this
Although he gets me ******
He doesn’t feel remiss
As long as he’s untoward
He won’t fall on his sword
And you can rest assured
That the past won’t be ignored
In any given broadcast
He can be put on blast
Because if one chose to ask
They'd learn about his past
Right down to his hair follicle
The man is diabolical
And also quite methodical
What I’m saying is he’s horrible
Like excrement stuck on a shoe
He’s nasty and it’s also true
Like a bowl of witches brew
He’s impossible to misconstrue
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 1:59 PM UTC
*He was engrossed in his performance
in the enthralled silence of the audience
catching the subtlest notes from the instrument
as his supple fingers played with the strings
erupting into the finest blend of ragas
freeing the souls of all the stress
converging his heart into his music
eyes closed as in a transcendental state.*
But I could not concentrate.
The face behind the beard and the unkempt hair
was familiar.
From a long distant day
I remember those fingers performed in a different way.
The afternoon I came back from school
and mom told me her monies were missing
and he was the only visitor to her room
waiting in the pretext of meeting me
but after a while leaving hurriedly.
He confessed and the money was recovered
but never again the breached trust.
*The audience rose in ovation fingers clapping
my own frigid in remembrance
of another performance.*
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
the curly haired boy had a darker side
well ingrained and perversely it did preside
in hindsight the family's collective eyes got to see
what an odious person he turned out to be
at a gathering of our clan on Christmas day
Lionel did have his despicable way
into Nan's lounge room he took my sister
on the pretext that they'd listen to his transistor
thence he proceeded to violate
the innocence of a thirteen year old girl
he touched her in an inappropriate manner
which was for my sister unpleasant of whirl
strange how past incidents come to light
the family have seen cousin Lionel in a new light
for several years he'd been acting well out of line
touching the females in the family as a filthy swine
the other side of his door
had a contemptible slur
we've gained privy to a person
little better than a cur
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
Rest easy, read these heavy words of slumber,
tap your chest to the beat of your heart,
empty out breath even from the deepest parts
the void, will fill itself, with sleep, I hope for your sake.
Scrunch those toes to close, then let them relax and let go,
Half close those toes and let them loose, shake them once and again,
Tense those calves, feet pointed at the ceiling, if you are willing,
Go half way and shake the tension away, from you,
Quads and hamstrings, next remember in pretext, full and halfway,
shake the tension away,,
gluteus maximus
then abdominals
and lower back
and in their turn
chest, those pecs to reflex and relax
latissimus dorsi, my oh my you got your back
shoulders,
hands of fingers, just like the toes,
pretty soon you might doze,
forearms, biceps and triceps too,
neck and face shrug and scrunch,
you don't have the answer,
so pucker your face,
eyes are the last close them once,
eyes are the last close them half,
eyes are the last,
I hope you never read this far,
unless you are awake, after a
night of rest fullness, so if it does
not work, know this, I will sit by
your side so you can unwind,
I have a good year for listening,
on pillow soft words, for you to put
your sleepy heavy head.
Good...night...yawn
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
Draw your sword and prepare for war
Oblivious of what your fighting for
The same deal every weekend
Only in your dreams does the chaos end
Finding companionship in drugs and alcohol
Temporary catching you amidst your fall
Living for the consolidation of the night
Yet so out of tune with life
So turning to **** you dull the knife
Weekend warrior
Your battle call is sounded
*** drugs and rock n roll
Your anything but grounded
Blurring your vision to forget your surrounded
Shallow ambitions
Mindless repetition
You go with the flow
Baited by the hook society uses while fishing
Spending all your change in a well for wishing
Surrounded by people who mirror your actions
Afraid to be alone
You feign a false satisfaction
You turn to numb the feeling
Call it fatal attraction
You fight for the weekend
To keep your mind off the deep end
Submerging in shallow pretext
You take refuge in pretend
So pickup the threads
That are constantly coming loose
And tie your hands behind your back
As you dig for the truth
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 12:26 AM UTC
Demonic possession is what it feels like sometimes,
The way I spit words out and they just happen to rhyme
I sit and think sometimes, about what I wanna write
But then it never comes to me , avoids me it stays outta sight and I
Don't know why I'm writing this, I'm sure I'll find a message
To send across the void that is this world and then the rest will
All make sense, no pretence, nor any pretext
That I'm using just busting words before I forget
I gotta add a little something about what happened today
I got my ****** grade from chemistry it was no A
Just a D, and I was worried but my Father doesn't care
I'm no good at Chemistry, he knows that it ain't fair
It's all about experimentation and adapting
To the strengths and weaknesses that make you a masterpiece happening
This world is full of unique people and you are another one too
So you gotta put your head down, do what you gotta do
I would like to make an announcement, before it leaves my mind
To clear up some other **** that I left behind
Me and Georgia now, you know her? I wrote a lot
About how much I hated her, how I wanted to rot
Yeah, we're good now, so please do not look back
On my works, when I went bezerk and launched a stupid internet attack
Some of it was my fault, and I've come to terms with it
We good now, it's okay, so please don't read that ****
I'm sitting here on my bed, not knowing what I'm about to write
Just knowing that I need another way to pass the night
So I spit fire, I'll retire, maybe right about now
Have a good day or night, my friends, be careful when you go out
<3
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 5:35 AM UTC
*an inscription on the side of the door
that I didn't see
upon entering*
I like visiting you when you spit real
you hop from moon to moon
and never tire of handing out
your remarkable brand of smiles
as you go
you see
the thing is, you
are probably the most rare
of humans
I've ever known
you're the kind of person
I didn't realise it till now
I've always been on subconscious search for
no longer bereft of beauty
I am
so many sides
and so much fire
sometimes, it's hard
to keep pace
with mental fireworks
out on rocky shores
some sweets can cut the tongue
my feet edge tentative
over uneven edges
and move forward
slowly
there's a golden child in a tunic
who walks miles to learn of this wonderful world
which dips its ever-pen into the inkwell-head
of innocence
polluting the sweet waters there
changing for all time
the complexion of healing time
there's always hope in the smile of a child
thank heavens for the eyes of children
yet, look what we do...
yes, he's walking to his next lesson
if he only knew what waits
when he grows up
something inside will die
something so beautiful and deeply precious
will simply perish
when we grow up, we actually die
innocence is replaced by blasé crap
young girls are advised to carry
silver spoons hid in drawers
to spark their chaperoned freedom
sleeping families never wake
as silent clouds settle insidious
placed by forces
no cherub wants to meet
the wicked are pardoned by the blind
and yet another child is trapped
and Babel's tower lives once more
the world is such
we **** our own
for the merest pretext
yet hope must live
keep candle of humanity lit
*taking the time to find
that beautiful inscription
a prayer of infinite beauty
follow the steps to your heart
love comes
to light*
S T, 25th augs
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
the blue-black night danced over our bodies, the moonlight waltzed in through your car windows. i tremble to the rhythm of your breath as you learn my legs with urgent fingers. as your skin adheres to mine, i feel the wanting electric coursing in currents through the rush of my blood. we are a tangle of killer chemistry & searching mouths. so you bite my bottom lip & that is so ******* rad. our clothes are nothing but pretext. there is no stopping the way you puzzle piece me together. your every touch is an absolution & i want it all. the wind shakes free the dying leaves & we sing each other lullabies with fiery kisses.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
The Easel and the Tripod
She created from paints his capturing was done through a camera lens from the towering canyons of
New York to the windswept desert their love and fame grew proportionately how large can love grow
When it has such backdrops and talents fused together the height and strength of New York’s
Skyscrapers to the vastness and richness of New Mexico’s desert that is missed by most but through the
Eyes of Georgia O Keefe the dead items took on a vibrancy and life and through her husband Alfred
Stieglitz she was revealed as artist and beloved only as a man giving full vent to his heart and the
Emotions that were found there oh heart shine through this prism of painting and photography the
Lucid the albescence of pretext with brush and pallet and the keenness of eye to see into the depths
Give expression then adjust it in a minor way then capture on glass plates the indescribable desire that
Lies hidden but is the center of emotions intent none so inclined will ever weary this well tells of
Never ending depths a stranger will ever only be able to scratch the surface because the power of love
Truly is mysterious beyond compare to look upon another release all restrictions give command to
Decrement the probe will find only the enlightened exquisite inner and outer collusions that occur
Briefly but are ever after defined by that moment the merging of two into one by common interest
You have crossed the unknown unchartered waters but in them are found the most accomplished life
That can ever be found an easel and a tripod is a silent witness and a grounding point that energy is
Released across the span of the earth and touches the Cosmos and will call infinity home love started
Of truth will never be extinguished by time or eternity so therefore go into your own gallery of the mind
Stand at the headwaters of bliss it is time to celebrate undying love
Feb 7, 2012
Feb 7, 2012 at 7:38 PM UTC
Naziism gained it's foothold in Germany
when the Reichstag was burned down:
this gave them the pretext needed
to suspend the rights of the Citizenry indefinitely
to ensure "security".
Sound familiar?
It should be frightening how similar it in fact is to modern events:
This rhymes with modern American legislation:
CISPA, the PATRIOT acts, the NDAA, etc.
Governments have always used such events
to catalyze and capitalize their own motives:
Tread lightly.
We enter a new age of Oppression with each passing administration;
we are not immune because we are hubristic
if anything, we are more vulnerable for it.
Sieg Heil,
für Gott ist mit uns.
Wir können nicht verloren
denn Gott ist mit uns.
Sieg Heil,
Amerika über alles.
Sieg Heil,
Das viertes ***** wird herum.
Sieg Heil.
Sieg Heil.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
Sandstorm of Affection
We danced in our spheres
Kept the hope for happiness within
But exhaustion and time came and undressed our realities
Fate became inevitable
With a single blow
We ran into our separate caves
Left the sandstorm to tear down everything that once surrounded us
We survived in our safety pretext
But the sandstorm was all in our element, where it lingered
Throughout our quests for genuine safety
We left little holes
Like those of termites' hills
To peep through as we paid careful attention
To the hope of the storm's immediate resolution
But so sorrily,
The winds were cruelly stronger than our expectations
And the turbulent winds spun violently piercing grains of sand
That greedily and hurtfully clogged our spying termites' holes
And shun us from the only last thing
That the sandstorm in our element had spared
So now we can hope for survival in our isolated darks
Thus, with a single atom of hope left within
Will we ever see each other again?
The cruel wish
Mongi C. Nkabindze
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
(Dear Friends, reacting to the latest TV Report about China’s claim
of the Himalayan Range this verse got composed. Hope you like it.)
CHINA’S VAULTING HIMALAYAN AMBITION !
By Raj Nandy
From Shakespeare’s ‘Macbeth’: “vaulting ambition,
which o'erleaps itself and falls on the other.”
……………………………………………………………………….
China, having infected the entire world by unleashing
the deadly Corona virus,
Have now started to measure the height of the mighty
Himalayas!
Having begun a dispute with Nepal, her peaceful
southern neighbor,
By trying to claim that entire Himalayan range as
part of China!
Ignorant about Macbeth’s ‘vaulting ambition’, -
which led to his downfall and destruction!
In the Tibetan portion of this mountain range,
An unmanned radar device was earlier set up by
China for air surveillance.
Now under the pretext of monitoring air traffic
over Tibet,
Two more radars devices are being set up on the
Himalayas once again,
Which will also act as snooping devices upon her
peaceful southern neighbors!
China already has her jaundiced eye upon India’s
Arunachal Pradesh,
Not forgetting her earlier illegal occupation of India’s
Aksai-Chin region.
She also has full co-operation from her ‘boot-licking
friend’ present across India’s western borders.
Unfortunately, only Historians remember the rise
and fall of ambitious Empires.
China too shall one day realize her Himalayan
Blunder!
-Raj Nandy, New Delhi; 16 May 2020
May 16, 2020
May 16, 2020 at 7:54 AM UTC
Scunthorpe is justly famous for its ugliness
And the rampant lasciviousness of its inhabitants;
With what horror I recall encountering a gent there,
A seriously senior slapper, widely acclaimed as
The least inhibited pensioner in northern Lincolnshire.
In my gilded youth I'd wandered into the bar
Of some grotty hostelry and got propositioned by this old ****
On the pretext of offering to gift me fifty quid
He dragged me upstairs and ravished me totally,
Showing his elderly anatomy 's most private parts
In prurient abandon. Afterwards, I wondered how long
Before the myriad love bites on my buttocks would fade?
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Never complain about anyone, nor anything,
because basically you have done
what you wanted in your life.
Accept the difficulty of improving yourself
and the courage to start changing yourself.
The triumph of the true man emerges from
the ashes of his mistake.
Never complain about your loneliness or your
luck, face it with courage and accept it.
In one way or another it is the outcome of
your acts and the thought that you always
have to win.
Don't be embittered by your own failure or
blame it on another, accept yourself now or
you'll keep making excuses for yourself like a child.
Remember that any time is
a good time to begin and that nobody
is so horrible that they should give up.
Don't forget that the cause of your present
is your past, as well as the cause of your
future will be your present.
Learn from the bold, the strong,
those who don't accept situations, who
will live in spite of everything. Think less in
your problems and more in your work and
your problems, without eliminating them, will die.
Learn how to grow from the pain and to be
greater than the greatest of those
obstacles. Look at yourself in the mirror
and you will be free and strong and you will stop
being a puppet of circumstances because you
yourself are your own destiny.
Arise and look at the sun in the mornings
and breathe the light of the dawn.
You are part of the force of your life;
now wake up, fight, get going, be decisive
and you will triumph in life. Never think about
luck because luck is
the pretext of losers.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
Some days I laugh at how childishly funny it was for me to write countless hours about you,
Some days seem to be filled with passion and troublesome that it was worth it,
It's oneself to say, that you were something I still think about more then ever but some days,
They seem to fade about into a blank piece of harmonic poetry to me,
Because of you,
My words of words have been announced as stupidity,
My true annoyances have been tempered with,
My exposed self have been interrupted with an mass of air,
Why,Oh,Why,
Have you made me a fool of a beast which freezes a thousand acres of grief,
The agony and atrocious hits of sensation,
I kid my shoulders as if a million daggers of betrayal have murdered me,
I am a lone wolf that stand silently in below 0 isolation under near a rough plait surface of sand,
Waiting and waiting for a pray or an other lone wolf to appear,
There are two paths and one way out of the bonded enclosure ,
These, Oh, These ,
Pretext of justification,
But I see myself coming back over and over again.
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
What type of girl she is nothing but flirt
On one pretext or another she is to hurt
Dancing swan, she is wearing white skirt
She makes me to see she keeps me alert
In the company of friends she leaves alone
I have to bear the brunt of a difficult time
I am on a stone while she keeps the throne
What is the taste of sin what is price of crime
Please do not play with my heart so tender
Be mine for a while I want to see you but all
Have a close look at me I am of your color
Once we were the lovers if you call to recall
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC