"quelled" poems
“When an injured athlete urge a comeback to field for love of game, his vulnerability toward previous muscle wound hinder his mental ability to go on with a full swing. Though, same rule implicate for people who hold bleeding pen to draw alphabetic emotions”
Yesterday I met one of those fragile birds. She carry fractured pen fingers under her beautiful skin, has curious eyes with strange shyness and a touched heart. The pursue of selflove somehow quelled her creative charm. I never expected to encounter someone so likeminded. She put away her pen to avoid emotions, identically similar reason made me quit this so-called ability which once lured bunch of close friends and many others who never knew the face behind these emotionally colored pages...
Wish I could feel her feathers and let her touch my scars, but her shivering Fragile Soul stopped me to become a...
‘Bad Boy She Craves For...’
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 3:35 PM UTC
We’d been together so long, it seemed
That nothing could tear us apart,
We lived our lives in a world of dreams
And Barbara lived in my heart,
But frost had covered the window pane
And then it began to snow,
As Barbara turned, with a look of pain
And said, ‘It’s best that you go.’
I didn’t know what she meant at first
As I looked up from my book,
“Go where?’ I questioned, but thought again
As she quelled my heart with a look.
‘I said I want you to leave,’ she cried,
And her face was set in stone,
‘We’ve come to the end of the path,’ she sighed,
‘I want to be left alone.’
Then suddenly all confusion reined
I didn’t know what to say,
Whatever had brought this mood on her,
I wished it would go away.
But she was firm, and she packed my things
And ushered me out the door,
I stood there shivering in the cold
To be back on my own once more.
I found a flat and I camped the night
There was barely a stick or chair,
I’d have to buy all the furniture
To make it a home in there.
But I sat and cried in the empty room
As the question came back, ‘Why?’
I’d loved her so and my heart was torn,
I thought I wanted to die.
I went to her with my questions, but
She slammed the door in my face,
Whatever love she had had for me
Had vanished, without a trace.
It hurt so much that she cut me off
With never so much as a sigh,
I called that all that I wanted was
To tell me the reason, why?
The roses had bloomed so late that year
Were still in the garden bed,
We’d always tended the bush with joy,
We both loved the colour red,
So I snipped one off as I left one day,
And planted it under her door,
To let her know that I loved her still
I didn’t know how to say more.
Her brother called in a week or so,
Said she was in hospital,
She’d gone in just for a minor cure
And thought that he’d better tell.
So I caught the bus and I went on down
With a quaking fear in my heart,
She hadn’t said there was something wrong
Before she tore us apart.
The doctor came in his long white coat,
His brow and his face was grim,
I said, ‘Don’t tell me the news is bad,’
He said, ‘I’m out on a limb.
Your wife just passed from the surgery,
But she pulled, from under her clothes,
And asked if I’d pass this on to you,’
In his hand was a red, red rose.
David Lewis Paget
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 1:10 AM UTC
( Filipino orTagalog version)
di sumasapit ang pagtulog
sa isang kaluluwang
sabik at di mapakali
isang pusong ubod tiyaga
ngayo'y balisang tumitibok
sa kabila ng malumanay
na pag patak ng ulan...
sa kaunting salitang nagbibigay kasiyahan
parang simoy ng hangin, may mga dalang palamuti
mga matatamis na pangako ng
maluwalhating bukas,
lumutang sa kapaligiran
at binago ang malamlam na
lagay ng kalooban.
ang mga darating na araw
ay muling yayabong.
isang kaluluwang hapong hapo
di-inaasaha'y, napangiti
sa unang pagkakataon
mga matatamis na tunog ng mahihinang
halakhak ay paulit-ulit na tumaginting
sa kalaliman ng gabi.
itong di maampat-ampat na pananabik
aking panalangin ay
tuluyan nang pumayapa
dito sa dilim, ako'y nakahimlay
habang ang mga pangarap ng pag-asa
ay alak na lumalasing sa aking pag-iisip.
kasabay ng pagdatal ng madaling-araw,
nabubuhay na lalo ang mga bagong isipin
na lalong nagpapasigla sa aking utak...
mulat na mulat ang aking mga mata
di na sasapit pa ang antok
di na sasapit pa ang pagtulog...
::::::::::
(ENGLISH VERSION)
SLEEP DOESN'T COME...
Sleep doesn’t come
To an eager, restless soul.
A heart so patient
now beats anxiously,
Even with the gentle rhythm
Of raindrops tapping.
With just a few satisfying words
Sprinkled with whiffs of hope,
So magical,
A promise of a glorious tomorrow
Floated in the air
And altered the somber mood.
The coming days are to flourish
Once more.
Unexpectedly,
A soul gone weary
Smiled for the first time.
The sweet sound of soft laughter
Unheard in the still of the night.
This insatiable needing
I pray, to be quelled soon..
Here in the dark, I lay awake,
As visions of hope inebriate my mind.
With dawn comes new ideas,
Stimulating my brain even more..
.......my eyes are wide open........
.......sleep wouldn’t come at all……
Sally
Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
What is ..... with ......
All this ... " ATTITUDE " ... ?!?
It seems ... The ... " In Thing " ...
to simply be ... " Rude " ... !?! ...
People in ... " The World " ...
are now .... So Crude .... !!!!!!!
Girls now walk streets ...
with arses ... in view ...
" Prostitution's " ... RIFE ...
But this ... " Isn't New " ... !!!!!!
So ....
If you have ... " A Bad Attitude " ... !!! ...
May I ask ... " What's wrong with you ? " ...
Do you feel ... " Misled " ... ???
Are you feeling ... " Upset " ... ???
Do you feel that your life ... ?
is just a .... " Pretence " .... ?
Do you feel as if ... ?
You'd be ... Better off ... DEAD ... !!!!!
Well ... if you do ... ?
It's Not Just ... YOU ... !!!!!
But it's ... NOT COOL ... !!!
to act the ... " Fool " ...
and live your life ...
with .... ATTITUDE .... !!!!!
If life's ... " So Rough " ...
and you wanna ... " Act Tough " ...
Get in ... THE RING ... !!!!!
Try on ... some gloves ...
and if it ... " Suits " ...
Make WAR ... NOT Love ... !!!
I riSE ... abOVE ...
This ... " Attitude Stuff " ...
But ... " Many suggest " ...
I'm ... " Billy Goat gruff " ...
This ain't ... " Call My Bluff " ... !!!!!
But I guess it's cos' ... ???
I'm NOT ... " White Enough " ...
to be .... " So Cool " ....
and ... NOT ... Wear Cuffs ...
Presumption can make ... ???
People give ... ATTITUDE ... !!!
So .....
Don't just ... " Assume " ...
cos this might be ... ?
Your ... LAST MISTAKE ... !!!!
" Attitude " ... that arises ...
because of ... " Assumption " ...
can leave men with ... " Truncheon " ...
Without their ... Heart Function ... !!!
cos' Attitude ... quelled ...
will then reach ... COMBUSTION ... !!!!!
So ....
PLEASE ... Don't Assume ...
when you enter ... " A Room " ...
Read this ... CLOSELY ... !!!
cos' when you ... Assume ...
You just make an ... " *** " ...
of ... Both You and Me ... !!! ...
Did you ...
Read it ... CLOSELY ... ???
Break that word into ... " Three " ...
*** ...
" U " ...
and then ... ME ...
Reminds me of a word ...
Yes ... " That Word " ... His - story
Just look at ... News Stories ...
and you ... Surely ... MUST SEE ... ?!?
Attitude's ... runnin" ....
on streets ... TOO FREELY ... !!!!!
Even on terraces ... in Italy .... !?!
Inter ... or ... A.C.
which fans ... can it be ... ???
I'm told these fans ...
... " Attitude " ...
FRIGHTENS POLICE ..... !!!!!
So .....
When they're ... Supposed ...
to use ... BRUTALITY ...
They'd rather not use it ...
but ... bring it to ... " Me " ... ?!?
Kind of like people ...
who do ... " Poetry " ...
From trying to act ...
Like ... They Like ... what I read ... !!!
Until I write words ...
That DISTURRRBBBB ... " Their Chi " ... !!!
Attitude ... ISN'T ME ... !!!
Come on ... Don't You See ...
My name is ... " Big Virge " ...
Friends call me ... " Big V " ...
But ....
Unless i've told you ...
You'd better use ... VIRGIL ... !!!
Unless you are ready ...
to fall at ... " That Hurdle " ...
This Isn't ... " The National " ...
My Poetry's ... " Rational " ...
as are ... " My Thoughts " ...
which ... CANNOT ... be bought ... !!!!!
So ....
Ideas that you ... " Court " ...
of ... Any such .... " Sort " ....
Take my advice ....
it's time to ... ABORT ... !!!!!
cos' ... Attitude's RIFE ...
when my temper ... " Runs short " ... !!!!!
So .... maybe it's time .... ?
to leave you ... " This Thought " ... ???
Attitudes' ... Crude ...
and is something for ... FOOLS ...
who think ... Being Rude ...
is now ... The New ... " COOL " ... ?!?
Well ....
Check out ... This view ... !!!
You're NOT ... being cool ... !!!
You're acting ... THE FOOL ... !!!
Now ....
If you're a ... " Female " ... ?
PLEASE ... Refuse to use ...
This ... " Needless Abuse " ... !!!
But ....
If you're a ... " Male " ... ?
Just be a ... " Cool Dude " ...
and just do ... " What's Right ... !!!
REMOVE ... !!!
... " Attitude " ... !!!!!!
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
(I)
Pale mulberry was the sky,
No bird dared to fly!
Thus all seemed wrong,
But then, you came along
Suddenly like summer rain
And quelled away my pain.
(II)
Velvet blue was the sky,
No bird dared not to fly!
Thus all seemed right,
And as pure as a cloud in white,
When suddenly like the rainbow,
You quelled away thy heavenly glow.
(III)
Dark grey is the sky,
No bird seems to ever fly!
Athwart my wild blue yonder
Where I, indignantly do ponder
Night and day wondering why,
We can't give it just one more try.
(IV)
Pitch black is always the sky,
But, faster than any bird I'll fly!
Swifter than a scudding cloud
Whilst calling upon you so loud,
All the way to a strange plain,
Just to ever feast about you again.
(V)
Magenta magic will always be the sky,
When once again we'll merilly fly!
Then, flowers once again shall bloom,
To see you and me as bride and groom
By a placid Mulberry Moon on the rise,
To kindle our enchanted paradise.
©Kikodinho Alexandros
Jumeira, Dubai
1st December 2016
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 7:53 AM UTC
.
**Crushes or
infatuations
•••don't last
••••this long.
•They're never
••this intense
•••••Never
this strong.
••I am in
thought,
••all day
and all night.
•••••Through
•••••moments of
••••••triumph and
•deepest, darkest fright.
•••I see you in all there is,
•••••I see you in everything.
••••••••Living in the present
••••but for the future I'm hoping
•••You calm and get me all riled up
••••••••••••••••at the same time.
••••••••••••You exist in metaphors,
••••••••••••••••••broken sentences
•••••••••••••and time worn rhymes.
•••••••••••••••••You give me life
••••••••••••••and take my breath
•••••••••••away altogether.
•••••••••You hold the key
to my erratic emotional lever.
•••••••••••You fill me full
••••••••••but empty me out
••••••••••••simultaneously.
••••You make me want to be
•••••••••••someone else
••••••••as well as being me.
••••••Paradoxes of the heart
•••they can never be quelled.
••••When hopes and odds
••try to be one and meld.
•••••This is how I know
••••••••that this is real.
•••••••••••••I'm truly,
•••••••••madly, deeply
••••••in love with you
•and it's all that I feel.**
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
What to do about wanderlust?
Should it be quelled?
Desktop backgrounds are my only escape
Maps with tacks and backpacks with knick-knacks
It all seems so far away
Cobblestone steps are wearing down
By the feet of enlightened in wondrous towns
While chairs are pushed in
Or left out of place
Thoughts are escaping to the vacuum of space
This Earl Grey is mint tea in Tangiers' seats
Or gold and black Yunnan at her highest peaks
It's sifting through pans of Fynbos' red leaves
What to do about wanderlust?
Should it be quelled?
I seem to dwell
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
Within the gentle heart abideth Love,
As doth a bird within green forest glade,
Neither before the gentle heart was Love,
Nor Love ere gentle heart by Nature made.
Created was the sun,
And lo, his radiance everywhere held sway,
Nor was before the sun;
Love doth unto all gentleness aspire,
And in the self-same way
Doth clarity unto clear flame of fire.
Love’s fire is kindled in the gentle heart,
As virtue is within the precious stone;
From out the star no glory doth depart
Until made gentle by the sun alone.
When the sun hath drawn forth
By his own strength all that which is not meet,
The star doth prove its worth.
Thus to the heart, by Nature fashioned so
Gentle and pure and sweet,
The love of woman like a star doth go.
The reason Love in gentle heart doth stay
Is why the fire unto the torch-head flies,
Burning as he doth fancy, bright and gay,
And were too proud to do so otherwise.
But Nature’s cruel scheme
Contrasteth Love as water, flame; as heat,
Quelled by the cooling stream.
In gentle heart doth Love his bower divine,
Since like with like must meet,
Thus diamonds in the iron of the mine.
Upon the mire the sun sheds his bright rays,
That is still vile, nor doth the sun turn cold:
“Gentle am I by birth,” the proud man says.
33 He, mire, and the sun, gentleness, I hold.
Let no man think that he
May be possessed of gentleness, although
He boast a king’s degree,
Unless a gentle heart be found in him:
The water is aglow
With stars, and yet the heavens have not grown dim.
God the Creator in heaven’s mind of grace
Shines brighter than before our eyes the sun;
There it is given to see Him face to face,
Whence in their beauty the skies, serving one
Just God, to Him do turn
And the blest end of primal love fulfil.
Thus the truth which doth burn
In my sweet Lady’s eyes she should make clear,
Of her own gentle will,
To him who in her service tarries near.
My Lady, God will say: “Didst thou not fear,”
(When my soul standeth yonder in His sight:)
“To pass the heavens and seek Me even here,
Vain love pursuing with My image dight?
To Me doth praise belong
And to the Queen of Heaven, who from her sphere
Of glory endeth wrong.”
Then I could plead: “Thy angels up above,
O Lord, like her appear;
I did not sin in giving her my love.”
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
I was told about the goodness of men,
Their valour, fortitude and chivalry
Riding in on gleaming horseback.
They would lead poorer souls into battle,
Liberate distressed ladies from gilded cages
And stave away the beasts of sin.
When I heard these marvelous tales
A fierce hunger awoke within me.
I began to search for an ivory tower
To lock myself in
That a man so great might come to find me.
I thought that I had met such a man
His armour resplendent,
His smile easy and compliments quick.
He led me forth with promises of fortune.
He presented me with crimson roses,
And oft he sang to me in sweet voice.
I was satiated, my hunger quelled
With what I thought to be a golden hero.
But as the roses waned and his voice wilted,
I found that he had faults and secrets like any other-
That his bravery was bruised with cowardice.
In fact, he was absolutely ordinary,
And as God-fearing as the rest of us.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
Summer's almost over,
It's threadbare
As your towel;
The summer sands
Are shifting,
The beach is headed south.
The initialed picnic tables
Are stored for other outings;
The concession windows
Flapped now,
The busker's shouting quelled.
Sails are dropped
Like maple leafs,
The moon's rising
Too soon;
The night lights blaze
Over pitch and field,
Where sunshine
Shone in June.
Geese are wedging daily
To escape the wintery gloom;
I'll reacquaint
With the hinter sounds
Of lake winds
And banshee loons.
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
England you had your chance to dance
on soccers biggest stage with France
you had your chance to advance
but you fell to Croatia's lance
how two stricken spears quelled the romance
and now cinderellas laugh at your trance
as a sorry Big Ben now sits in a prance
while the Croats sip your tea and perchance
To continue.
Oh, my. Now Belgium takes third in your belly up dance
You reign now like a fish at the surface with its sad eyes askance
Where did it all go Big Ben, the spirited stance
Sigh. To wait four years lost to be tickled with waning happenstance
Logan Robertson
7/12/2018
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 4:58 AM UTC
Acerbic antagonist alliterates agonizing accusations,
blasting ******* backbiter butting beautiful bombastic brainy blond bomb.
Cumulative cranial casualties cease caveman's cognitive coherence.
Doom digger derides Daddy's dangling dire dreary ****
Eclectic esoteric eccentric egotistical estranger;
Forthcoming fathoms fetch faithless fleeting father.
God given goblins gather gossamer ganglions;
Hell's hairy harlot harpies hover heeding Hyperion.
Ignatius imbibes irrevocably insisting,
"Jesus juggles justice's joy jarring jams."
Kindness kindles Kilimanjaro;
Malicious mountains melt, Mmm, morning marjoram.
Nothing negates Neanderthal ninnying.
Overt obsessions obfuscate original object of
purest passions, paltry past pinings,
quickly quieted, quelled,
resisted, relinquished, readily, ruefully, roundly
saturated, suffocated; surreptitiously silenced,
terribly torturing the thrashed tamed tormentor:
Ugly, ungrateful, unapologetic,
Vanity,
woefully wallowing, wailing, "Where's
Xanadu's
zeitgeist!?"
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
So fine,
the slender votive silence
of palms, open
to the torn banners of rain,
so tender,
such surrender
in the gesture of hands...
You pour so much
of your red earth,
to soothe and loosen
the tongue from its leather tomb
and adorn me
with a lighter burden,
too much mine, at one
with the dark, lavish earth
in all its sorrow, spun
of the sleek commotion of silk
and vanilla linens... I leaned
into the ******* of my wings,
honed from those muscular
fairy-tale dreams...
My mouth,
learned solely on a valentine's
shiny white kiss of hemlock,
humming into the cells
of the spellbound body, quelled
by vigilance, your lips
teach me now, how to go softly
over the red earth of dahlias,
in all their everlastings, your hands
deep in the soil, reap...
The resonating grail of memory,
kept in its rich loam
and coals spread over
my mouth of red, red clay,
so swells its golden hue
of rose and rhododendron,
too much mine, rising
its fevers in the fawn brown
of eyes, closed ...
Over this long,
shuddering quiet,
you come
in all your calico
to calm
the votive silence
of palms, cupped
in the earth of your hands,
so much mine....
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
In the name of democracy
An entire state is terrorized
Decade after decade
Freedoms are curbed
Protests are brutally suppressed
People are brutally oppressed
Education is diluted
In the name of democracy
The Army turns from protector to oppressor
Every soldier marching past
With his head held high
Sounds the death knell
For every man, woman and child
In the name of democracy
Soldiers break into houses
Wielding their massive rifles
As if it is their birthright
As the peace and harmony within
Is replaced by abject terror
In the name of democracy
All morals are flung out of the window
As the women are *****
The men who challenge this unspeakable atrocity
Are swiftly silenced with bullets
As the children begin screaming in terror
They are molested, one by one
Until the trauma overcomes them
Such that, they lose their voices
They lose their minds
They lose their hearts
Meanwhile, the soldiers slip away quietly
Having completed a good day of work
In the name of democracy
In the name of democracy
India and Pakistan, warring for decades
Use Kashmir as a bait
As a means to satisfy
Their unquenchable thirst for power
As the potion simmers on
Fuelled by hate on both sides
Curfews and lockdowns follow with alarming regularity
Schools and colleges are shut down
Political organizations are banned
The Internet is crippled
Mobiles and landlines are killed
Even the most feeble of all protests
Is brutally quelled with bullets and grenades
In the name of democracy
Consent is dead and buried
As nationalism takes centre stage
The world watches on silently
Allowing India, the oppressors-in-chief
To reclaim the moral high ground
And suddenly proclaim themselves as saviours
Leaving the beleaguered Kashmiris no choice
But to bow to their captors
Their dreams of self-determination
Shattered ruthlessly in the course of a mad, mad day
In the name of democracy
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 1:18 PM UTC
Anxiety quelled by more medication
and an anxiety class where I learn
it is all about fight, flight, freeze and saber tooth tigers
and every symptom can be explained scientifically and
tabulated and put on a balance sheet where insignificant
experimental mortals like me can put check marks
in little boxes and the totality of my existence
can then be clearly defined and understood by someone
wearing a plastic name card around her neck announcing PhD.
The room has no windows, only a hand written poster
from an AA meeting and stale air and three anxious women
out of the ten people who are supposed to be here.
No one knows, but I am in boot camp inside my head
It is the mindfulness of anxiety
anxious thoughts, thoughts of you are to be
immediately exterminated
Perhaps the hand sanitizer that is available at every corner
in this place will help
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 1:05 PM UTC
professor Burke and professor Lee
two mathematicians who could not agree
loudly voiced their differences at half past noon
having daily lunch at the Greasy Spoon
the subject on the fateful day was Pi
and they could not see eye to eye
a disagreement on the thousandth digit
had Burke turn red and caused Lee to fidget
said Burke “No you are off by one!”
spat Lee “Your math is poorly done!”
Burke shouted, “Lee, you have gone too far!”
reached toward the counter for a candy jar
but his hand instead encountered pie
a hideous gleam sprang to his eye
he flung the pie with all his might
hit Lee full face, eyes wide with fright
but Lee recovered and found more pies
Boston Creme took Burke between the eyes
apple, custard, lemon, berry
pecan, pumpkin, key lime, cherry
pies of every kind were thrown
plates' radius squared remained unknown
the police arrived to break up the fray
took the two meringued men away
many hours later in the quiet cell
with pie for ink and tempers quelled
the two stood looking at the wall
upon which lay their equation scrawled
said Burke, with both their faces long
“Well, what do you know. We both were wrong.”
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:20 PM UTC
walking down a backstreet
had to quench my thirst
for alcohol or devils dust
which one would be first
it was then i heard the music
i forgot why i was out
my demons were in check now
t'was the music....there's no doubt
a backstreet bar
a dim lit stage
a singer singing
full of rage
demons screaming
hers and mine
i stumbled in
I had time
anger, venom
loud and strong
bass line pounding
pulled along
demons quelled
to say the least
this music tamed
my savage beasts
i sat and listened for a little while
i got a beer, it cost a smile
the waitress knew why i was here
i guess she figured, one free beer
the singer tore the stage apart
songs from her soul, not from her heart
she took a break and that was when
my demons found the night again
shaky, jitters
couldn't sit
couldn't focus
not a bit
cold sweats, cramping
demons caged
and then again
she took the stage
anger, venom
loud and strong
bass line pounding
pulled along
demons quelled
to say the least
this music tamed
my savage beasts
i knew the battle i would lose
my hunger was too strong
brought in line for a short time
by a singer and her songs
tomorrow night another war
between the hell in me
would my demons be calmed down
or would they be set free?
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
In Parsley, a Levantine munificence accreted together in Tabbouleh,
herbage that covers fractured bedrock in a poultice of healing.
Secreted within, lie igneous outpourings of bloodied tomatoes,
those solid affections that had welled through an ocean floor
as Neptune quelled Gaia's contractions, her waters seeking to burst
beneath the wrinkled surface of a salty sea. She, an underbelly of sky,
pregnant in the overwhelm of magma, sweating out her heart in fire,
muted like a moon of Neptune, in his retrograde soliloquies, yet mirroring
hers in icy resurfacings of skin. The God of the Sea, boils an amnion
to hazy mists, how deep will his trident plunge to dislodge those Trojan ships
of deceptions ? Yet, Triton blows a conch for Gaia, not for man's duelling
and his warring tribes. He soothes her feverish gnashing of thighs
labouring continents. Some fires burn in water, like desultory heartbeats
moving the pace of rocks through the ocean floor, spiriting away
to stranger places still, marking maps of memories in the beauty of
a stillborn magma. The limestone they say is no blood relation to such
alien fructification, those oceanic intruders, bleeding still, spilling
secrets in reds and purples. The acid tears spilled in lemons merely
neutralised in syllables, sedimented to a community of limestone,
that possess no archaic remnants reminiscing through dead bones,
an age of glory. Now beauty lies in herbage over once raucous magma
and traces of a salty sea, freshness of life trailing her veins, in fragrance of Parsley
Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 7:15 AM UTC
****** up paddy's weekly binge,
did nothing for poor mary's twinge.
she quelled her urge with robbie rasta,
who smoked the weed,and **** was faster.
the ***** guru jumped with fright,
yo husband early home tonight.
don't ye worry, stay in bed,
the fockers ****** right off his head.
mary, mary, the drunkard bleats,
der is tree people beneath dees sheets,
shot op ye dronk i am no cheat,
get outa bed an count the feet,
sorry me darlin, der's only four,
staggered to the bathroom door,
where ye goin? what ye thinkin?
to wash me feet, they're fockin stinkin.
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 12:00 PM UTC
Where to find the words?
When all the wells
Have run dry,
My inspiration
No longer
Blooming
Out of the dark corners
Of my addled mind,
The fountains
That yielded
All my sentiments,
Have translated
Into muted syllables
That no longer flow,
As if my need
Has been quelled,
Yet I am more parched
Than desert dunes,
Cold barren wastelands;
And there is no mirage
To even hold me over
Until the next rainfall...
APAD14 - 001 © okpoet
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
Once upon a time
There was a Girl and a Wolf
One in hunger
The other on the brink of fear
The girl shivers and cries
Collapsing as her legs go numb
She wipes away her tears
And she clears her eyes
To see glowing eyes at the forest fringe
A place she was told never to venture
For a she-wolf roamed that wood
One with no pack
One that her grandfather told stories of
One whose hunger could never be satiated
She has heard the horrible tales
Ones that caused a tradition
To spring in fear of it
It was said the beast could never die
There was a chilling curse
Set on that tangled wood
That caused this she beast to be immortal
But the little one had to go
A child's curiosity is never quelled
So she edged ever so close
Leaving a trail in snow
Battered velvet dress
Starting to tear
Fingertips moving at a crawl
The eyes at the edge have lost the sparkle
She can see the beasts battered fangs
No growl, no howl, no sound at all
The white wolf did not pounce
Not like one should
The child had prepared
Steeled her fragile heart
Waiting for fangs to puncture
Moving her small hand ever so slow
She reached under her frozen dress
Revealing her father's ****
Laying it the edge of the wood
To feed the she-wolf
The wolf's eyes never blinked
Frozen as the weather itself
So they sat gazing at one another
The girl gazed and gazed
Inside this creatures black eyes
She found the reason
Why the wolf patrolled the edge of the wood
Like a fleeting shadow
Inside that wolf was not a beast
But a woman instead
Beautiful she was
That brought tears to men's eyes
This princess of sorts
Was the Lord's daughter
Who also sought what the forest covered
But her curiosity became her everlasting doom
She patrols this wood
To protect ones outside the fringe
From the curse that transformed her
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
Bells overbrim with sound
And spread from cupolas
Out through the shaking air
Endless unbreaking circles
Cool and clear as water.
A stone dropped in the water
Opens the lips of the pool
And starts the unovertaking
Rings, till the pool is full
Of waves as the air of bells.
The deep-sea bell of sleep
Under the pool of the mind
Flowers in concentric circles
Of annihilation till
Both sight and sound die out,
Both pool and bells are quelled.
2.2k
The fortress is soundproof no more,
And the voices I had once blocked out,
Are creeping in, seeping in, towering over me,
They accuse me, they shout.
Peaceful silence marred by vengeful shrieks,
Blissful ignorance quelled by demanding questions,
Pristine air darkened by black tears,
And surrounded by all, I stand in the centre.
A spotlight of love-turned-ugly encircles me,
And for the first time, I feel insecure, alone.
I take my hand and place it on my chest,
Trying to feel, in vain, my heart of stone.
Silent heart.
Pulselessness.
Vacant chest.
Airlessness.
Such a curse- this emotionless machine
that swells up on others’ despair!
The robotic pump that never breaks down,
That’s never needed any healing or repair.
I hear the frantic beats of all the hearts
I stomped upon, nonchalantly broke.
Then, smothered by the darkness of my own being,
I gasp and wheeze, I choke.
When will my veins distend with passion?
When will my heart spout unhindered blood,
And add into my lifeless existence-
Fire and pleasure, pain and love?
I’ll unlock now, these strong iron gates,
And stand outside into the hot, harsh light,
I’ve been huddled up in the dark all my life,
I’ll expose my soul now, to set my wrongs right.
And for the one-
Who’ll unfold, unfurl, enter, penetrate,
And my stony abrasiveness, slowly grate-
I’ll tear open my chest, and silently wait.
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 1:38 PM UTC
Forsaken shrine,
Nights align,
In a spotted chalice,
Like onyx wine.
Out rings a bell,
A raven knell,
The wicked cry,
And doleful spell--
--Of witching's time.
A wayward soul,
On blinded stroll,
As through the dark,
They must patrol.
The traveled path,
A harsh lambast,
And so return,
The hour's bath.
Fore a shape,
A phantom escape,
Awaiting idol,
Past a molten scape.
River quelled,
Fusion's shell,
Lest a shade and shadow weld,
Beware the spell--
--Of witching's time.
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 11:01 PM UTC