"rife" poems
They say, The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain
But I blame, in vain, the rain for the insane, you see
This plain pain hasn't the same name, nor the same game
For the rain's pain is the same sane as they claim
And since the pain's shame resides mainly in Spain,
Neither the rain nor Spain is to blame for the insane, so now
This sane can claim the uneven plane's plain's the name to blame
But the strife of life is held under the knife of a wife
Where strife runs rife throughout the wife's life
The knife, learning from the fife, plays with the life
While the fife excites life, the knife excites strife
The wife with the knife is at fault, fact or fake?
Is the knife to blame for the strife of the wife's life?
Or the fife for teaching the knife to play with strife?
This just goes to show that no one knows the real rose
For the rose, in it's thorny clothes, just shows the nose
The smell, a pose, so close, tingles the nose till it glows
But the finger, too close, chose to trust the nose's prose
Blame the rose who proposed the show and showed the pose?
Or the nose, whose clothes glowed from the smell of the rose?
The finger couldn't 'ave known the true pose of prose from the rose to the nose.
Apr 5, 2011
Apr 5, 2011 at 7:20 PM UTC
Precarious Life
Migration in the Age of Globalization
Various Strife
Cessation in the wage of translation
Starvation in our under age narration
Is opportunity worth the cost
Bifurcation of our to be nations
Will we make it across
Vicariously rife
Location of our permanent vacation
Hilarious fife
Hesitation in the living wage stagnation
Resignation of our own home nation
Will anything become lost
Frustration in this age of relocation
Will we make it across
Gregarious life
Migration in the age of inflation
Precarious Life
Stagflation been gauged with low expectations
Automation when we enrage damnation
It shall be worth the cost
Fixation on a whole new acclimation
Will we make it across
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
Elated to see you aloft in the night sky
To what do I owe this enchanted boon.
In the merry company of winking stars,
Enthralled by this sight as I admire my moon.
Bathe me in your streaks of translucent silver.
Accompany me through my sleepless nights.
Watching over me with unwavering vigil.
Swathe me in whispers of peaceful respite.
Oh how you govern the raging tides of my soul.
Rest your gaze as the waters break upon my shore...
Erode and weaken the load strewn over my burning shoals,
Sands drowned breathless but craving for more.
Few nights now... Smitten as you coyly turn away.
Thick strands of shadow clad hair in gentle cascades,
Alluringly obscuring a slight fraction of your face.
A tiny crescent blanketed away; into the blackness it fades.
More nights pass... Now I see only a lesser moon
Leaving me with only half; darkness so had claimed.
Please make yourself last; you mustn't leave too soon,
I'm not ready to be left crippled and maimed.
I silently look up as more nights go by.
I watched my lunar love dissolving into space.
My heart too, torn away a morsel at a time...
Finally she had gone; without a sliver or a trace.
Every nightfall since is rife with emptiness and despair.
I asked the stars if they could soothe my gaping void...
But they'd only twinkle in indifference...
Regardless of the pleas I've employed.
Unsure of how many rises it has thus been.
Nights only brought the onslaught of mocking stars above.
Still I toy with the promises made overhead,
For the awaited return of my crazed elusive love.
I know it's frivolous to think I'm the only one...
There are others who pine just as I do.
But I yearn the most for your sought after attention,
For our hearts have sung in every colour and every hue.
Anxiety at peak, dismayed almost broken,
Then I hear a sweet song sung; distant and far.
A song that shared the words we once had spoken,
Again enveloped in translucent silver, with relief I sighed...,
"There you are..."
.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
Lost is the African pride
Gone are those who could ride the tide
Left are those who drown beneath the wave
Prone to dehumanization because of greed
I see burning buildings
Mutilated bodies
Escalating violence
And social unrest
Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu
Left is a society deprived of its integrity
Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society
Is the real Africa lost to antiquity?
Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life.
A decent life earned through decadence
Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment?
Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard?
I am ashamed of the profanity we breed
It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic
It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland.
It’s not who they are.
It’s not who we are
It’s not who you are
It’s not who I am
Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade
The Africa that has survived apartheid
The Africa that has survived colonization
The Africa that is surviving westernization
We don’t fight for employment
We create employment
We don’t breed resentment
We translate sentiments
Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s behave like men not animals
Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s stand like men immortal
The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals
Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa
It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical
Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa
Animosity is not our portion
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
Sweet Butterfly, with wings now dry 'tis time to break away
and light upon the leaves of dawn while weeping willows sway,
not reminisce 'bout chrysalis discarded yesterday,
but treasure life, with colors rife in nature's cabaret.
Sweet Butterfly, you sometimes sigh "terrene so strange and new”,
but take a chance, with winged expanse of fairy-like bijou,
to taste delight in random flight, to drift beyond the blue
and then collect her naked nectar, sipped in morning dew.
Sweet Butterfly, you question why the breeze is seldom soft
when swirling you, your wings askew, while floating free aloft.
Some seem to find their peace of mind believing gods have coughed,
but others, downed, have often found more freedom when they've scoffed.
Sweet Butterfly, you needn't cry, the fields are full of clover,
and meadowlands bare braided strands that winds in waves flow over -
but if you fear that, more than here, another mead is mauver,
just flutter by, beneath the sky, unfettered flitting rover.
Sweet Butterfly, farewell, goodbye, you've left this world behind.
I oft gaze back along the track of flowers that you've mined
recalling days of light sashays and movements unconfined
that complement the firmament where beauty lies enshrined.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 4:23 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
The little things that we do can sometimes change a life
We never really know the impact of what we do today:
A smile, a hug, a small act of kindness; letting them know it's alright.
Be hope and comfort in a world where pain and suffering are rife,
Someone might have had a really rotten time that day.
The little things that we do can sometimes change a life.
Kind words and actions heal but a harsh tongue cuts like a knife.
What a difference it can make by being nice and showing love, so hey!
A smile, a hug, a small act of kindness; letting them know it's alright.
When darkness surrounds us and there seems no end in sight,
And when things look bleak and we're losing hope and someone lights the way,
The little things that we do can sometimes change a life.
If we bring peace where there is hatred and always try to do what's right,
Then maybe when we are in their position they help us to see sun not gray.
A smile, a hug, a small act of kindness; letting them know it's alright.
The little things that we do can sometimes change a life.
It doesn't take much to make a difference, it's true! So again I'll say:
A smile, a hug, a small act of kindness; letting them know it's alright,
The little things that we do can sometimes change a life!
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
Stuck at this game,
In what seemed like forever.
Stuck at a stage where...
Experience points don't matter.
A game set in an expansive universe,
Rife with problems that arise to haunt.
You can't pass and can't concede defeat.
Troubles' only function is to mock and taunt.
I've chafed my thumbs raw...
Manipulating the knobs on my controller.
My mind is a mess...
In search of a happily ever after.
Puzzled by puzzles,
There are no cheat codes...
Can't blast my way through,
There are no god modes...
Neither are there any hints,
Nor is there a walkthrough...
I'm just running in perpetual circles,
In this game of me and you.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 8:13 AM UTC
Injustice!
Posted by Olivia Kent on June 4, 2013 at 3:11pm
View Blog
Suffer not thy children,
In a waiter service world of injustice,
Nothingness in a world of tragic poverty,
In a drizzle of tears,
The children drown
Emaciated children,
Not smiling as they die,
In world of war-craft,
Dying,
A little more each day,
Not smiling as they should,
Punished,
Living in a punitive world of cruelty,
Where craft of war is rife,
Screams,
Imagined in heads of strangers,
Insanity,
Piercing with horror,
Ears sickened,
By violent imagery envisaged,
Emaciated child,
*** bellied,
Gaunt,
Virtually lifeless,
Dead before death,
Snatches,
Life blood vanished,
Without request!
There is no youthful exuberance on this face,
Overjoyed,
Delighted,
I don't live in this place!
Copywrite Livvi Kent 04/06/2013
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
XXIV
Let the world’s sharpness, like a clasping knife,
Shut in upon itself and do no harm
In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm,
And let us hear no sound of human strife
After the click of the shutting. Life to life—
I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm,
And feel as safe as guarded by a charm
Against the stab of worldlings, who if rife
Are weak to injure. Very whitely still
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer,
Growing straight, out of man’s reach, on the hill.
God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.
7.2k
29/3/13
Bring me celestial music of the spheres
Such notes as dance in colours in the mind
The shimmering of distant hemispheres
Where streams of rainbow nebulae unwind
Bright notes cascade in sparkling waterfalls
Light motes resound in echoes through the breeze
From secret gardens hid behind stone walls
Paradise plays enticing symphonies
Our earthly plane is rife with vexing noise
Cacophanies of thundering machines;
Barkings of dogs, vexed babies in full voice
keep us earthbound, locked into dull routines.
Reach for the headphones, cover up your ears,
Take in celestial music of the spheres.
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
It was an AR15 that the kid used.
A gun that, in this free world, men can indulge and abuse.
A boy who saw him load his gun,
the gunman saw and simply said run,
A word that made the child flee for his life,
just before waves of bullets came upon the school,
The kid looked on and asked himself
why is life so cruel.
How many more people have to die,
before its ****** metal, not tears, that your children cry.
This free world, rife with argument by silly politicians
Men that make decisions, without experience of the repercussions.
This gunman was not a delinquent, he was a child.
Born of your failed systems, born of your sick traditions.
A boy who without second thought, took up his assault rifle
and headed into war with the children that learned ambition with him,
emotion and sudden movement that made them all feel just that little bit stifled.
This free world is one with a core of rights,
A doubled edged dagger,
a topic of discussion that makes the average fat man want to fight.
‘Over my cold dead body’ he said.
LET ME HAVE MY GUN
Because whilst others use it for fun,
the protection I have outweighs the fact
that when a 19 year old comes to school,
all the other kids have to run.
It’s ridiculous, heck its thoroughly imbecilic,
How children have to be careful of the education system,
not because of a
nationwide test
but a,
nationwide threat
of grown men,
looking to prove their ego,
men that can’t go against the party line
that fail to realise that life is more important
than the next donation
than the dollar sign.
You want protection? That’s completely fine.
Just don’t use the bodies of your children
as meat shields and pretend everything’s fine.
Don’t say you’ll do something as if something will change
because nothing will change unless it does.
This free world is not filled with love but truly its filled with hate,
A bloodlust so dense, even children’s blood cannot sate it’s thirst.
Until it's more than just a child hurt, but a country with a bullet wound
Caused by people, who love guns so much but blame it on the loons.
Your pain, I cannot prove.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 6:46 AM UTC
Post-azure, cloud splashed sky,
washes with the suns descent,
breaking into melodies of sunset.
Fracturing into a blush,
the richness of the spectrum
makes itself known.
On a tangent of change,
amorphous clouds bleed
amber glow
and bittersweet combinations
of reds and yellows.
Vermillion streaks through,
and a few cloud folk turn titian,
like sumptuous surreal apricots
rotting in the sky,
that seem to augur
encroaching darkness.
Billows on the horizon
leak crimson,
like spilled wine on table cloth,
and pucker out
like blooms of flaming roses.
Fire refracted
coloured cousins of the sun
are dancing all about.
Here is the anthem
of wild transformation.
Here is cause
for quiet celebration.
Here at this fluent juncture.
Here at the closing of day.
The whole of the ocean below,
is the skies tremendous mirror.
It's reflection is variegated,
into variations a thousandfold.
Multitudinous, and ever differentiated,
distortions of above
ride the crests of waves.
Each apex is a new story.
Each new story,
just as soon as it is told,
comes crashing into trough.
Each finale is the ****** of beginning.
The dynamic roar
of the oceans ever-changing topology
is rife with meaning.
Colossal symphonic wonders,
the primordial song,
releasing upon: the uni-
verse continual,
sending the manifest
to move, with the give and strain
of immaculate design.
Here ensconced
between the safety of light
and the mystery of night.
Here at the oceans edge.
Above, shades of catalina-blue, in conversation
with the outer most cosmic-black
dismiss earlier brighter hues.
Tinged by the infinite nature of space,
the jeweled dome darkens.
Overhead, the first stars appear,
sky transparent to beheld blackness.
Luxuriant, pulling horizon, attracts
violet into it's unfolding theatrics.
Bloodied clouds turn purplish, then black,
a darkening rawness allures,
decaying with vivid beauty,
tragedies of a rouged romance
drug down into shadows play,
searingly alive, extraordinarily actual.
And then, the hush of dusk.
Darkness is felled, like silence.
Scintillating stars
strengthen in the nights
surrounding abyss;
giving radiance definition.
Dynamic Beauty
Lives In Transition,
Oppositions
Compliment.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC
ponces! nancies! veritable egrets of men!
people pleasing anti-charismatic animals
philistines, every one of them,
everyone else
a curse upon their forebears and a curse upon their goings-on
terrible business, that
the world should be filled with boundary pushing eccentrics, that is progress!
a plague upon normalcy, a plague upon stagnancy
uninteresting, dying off, done
ugh!
greatness can not be expected of all but at least an attempt should be made
how else will we overcome, will we build our utopia?
what use is MY struggle when others are defeated in making a move past the remote
television is for swine
rots your brain and morals
I've swell morals, just look at them
my morals reach to the moon
my morals are so swell I should run the country
my morals aren't two millenia old scriptures written by the seers of goat-tenders
my morals are modern, they are sleek and well dictated, they represent the future
my morals defy the past, my morals create new paradigms
why, you could say my morals defy all of traditionalism
and a curse upon tradition!
who ever learned from the past
history is rife with naught but sufferance
forwards is the only direction
forwards is revealed only to me
my ideals aglow with the lumine of the future
they are entrenched in idealism
me and mine, we are ideal
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
My heart yearns for an adventure
For a strange and rare venture
Oblivious of the tons of dangers
For in adventures I ain’t a stranger
For I would relieve childhood years
That I spent with my little peers.
An adventure in distant lands
Where the children play with wet sands.
And dolphins jump out of water
When the noon sun makes the ocean hotter.
Where the fisherman yaw his boat
To capture all the salmon afloat.
An adventure by the oasis in the Sahara desert
Where Tuaregs sit by the cactus to eat dessert.
And watch as scorpions prey on lizards
To feast on their gizzards.
I want day sun to warm my smooth skin
And the night cold to shiver my crude chin.
An adventure cuddling cold snow on my hand
Where the icy pillars in their majesty stand.
And make a cave of snow
Strong to stand when wind blow.
Then I will scare the polar bear
That my cave like a paper wants to tear.
An adventure on the corn field
When in summer the flowers yield
When the butterflies pollinates the corns
And the farmer weeds out the thorns
I want to watch the corn spring to life
When the early rain is rife
An adventure across the sky in a plane
And watch as daylight slowly wane.
I want to leave a route on the sky
That in the future I would still ply.
Then immortalize my name in the cloud
That dark clouds in their anger cannot shroud.
An adventure deep in the amazon woods
When the purple squirrel burrow for food.
Where the monkey sway their tails
And red roses litter narrow trails.
I want to watch the ants builds their mounds
As the ripe mangoes fall on the ground.
An adventure that will lead to places
Leaving on all its paths my traces.
Permanents prints that will last
Even when my life like history is past.
And my adventure would be told as a tale
That like time will not stale.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
We all have a passion,
Search your soul.
It is there for your finding;
It will make you feel whole.
You may find it in work,
Or find it at play.
Combine these two;
Days will cease to be grey.
It might seem hard;
Welcome to life.
Your destiny is yours,
Opportunities are rife.
Make this your goal,
Be brave, be strong.
The power is yours;
Compose your own song.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
Our solar lamps
plead for more sunshine
as they die
in the middle of dinner
every night
even in this stark Texas
late afternoon light
all the while
I can still
get a beastly burn
the faintest suggestion
of Fall
wafts through
the chilled
grocery store air
rife
with frothy pumpkin lattes
maybe if I stare long enough
at the neighbor’s
front porch
loaded with gaudy gourds
I can almost
trick myself
into feeling
crisp.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
Eid Mubarik to you my Fatima Gul
my angel, my forever most beautiful
you’re the sweetest, the love of my life
my world enchanted with the joy that’s rife
all the words won’t ever suffice
for i may not ever be able to describe
of how wishful life became for me
to live with you, a perpetual love spree
I sit here blushing and maybe shy
I, with even that mere thought, fly
thinking i’ll narate what i always want to
on every special eid when i’ll wish you
can’t wait for our eids together
as if surrounded by your feathers
and all my worries scatter and smother
with your love and care I’m covered
when i say that know that it’s true
it’s because of you and only you
it’s only for you that i make it through
and it is for a forever I promise to do
By the magic of the stars above you
I love you, I love you, I love you
I do and I always will
for there’s nothing for me
that is above you
3rd May, 2022
Jul 26, 2022
Jul 26, 2022 at 1:59 PM UTC
Crickets that chirp all day and all night
Looking for love in their season
Overgrown fields rife with golden rod
The same as they are every year
Earlier sunsets we notice at mid-month
(Wonder where the summer went)
Cool mornings with fog
Still air with familiar scents
Bats from behind shutters
Pursue their flights at dusk
(If only we could fly with them)
Apples fall from trees, soft, little thuds,
Remind us of other late summers, and of gravity
Migrating birds eat honeysuckle berries
While a monarch spreads her wings
On white phlox
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
there is a slump in my life
every thought is with itself in strife
tension that can be cut with a knife
every moment with angst is rife
to do any work, i am lazy
people will soon call me crazy
there is a lot i need to do
and think about too
people are relying on me
been banged on the head like a tee
i am frustrated can’t you see
kind sir, will hear my plea?
it is going much worse than you think
life’s a boat with a hole, going to sink
there are blue skies above me
but I’m headed to the abyss of the sea
darkness hitting me head on
spirit’s taken a dive
life’s so far been a con
slap on the face, not a high five.
years to go before i sleep
or is it? will it be sooner?
the outlook is rather bleak
feel like a dead fish on a schooner.
theres a picture on the wall
blue skies and leaves in the fall
i wish i was there
anywhere but here
i wish i was someone else
anyone but myself
the pressure of disappointment is on me
stinging me time again as a bee
i want to go back to being dust
that is my only lust
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
In long lasting fortitude is the fight of the astute.
A lot of effort is made towards the war of the moral.
And a race towards life is the route.
Preparing the endless fit of strength of all.
There is he who is choosing his fate.
Working hard despite all opposers’ bait.
There is he who is choosing life.
Working hard despite all opposers’ strife.
Lost in the dirt, seeking out of the ruse.
Forced towards the light, brighter and rife.
No letting up despite the refuse.
Clean is the proud, and happy, the player of the flute.
A rite of passage for all is the praise of the immortal.
War is the only dispute
Death is not fatal.
The renegade does not enter the gate.
He is stuck outside the city, and left without state.
The renegade does not know his wife.
He is stuck at heart and can’t even play a fife.
In the dirt he is and is with a lot of abuse.
He cannot escape the knife.
Cut, cutting up despite the accuse.
Reality is but the face of cute.
Subjected to falsified doctrine and the immoral.
It is callous and as rotten fruit.
Moxie exists with everyone no matter how small.
Can the one who is happy learn to hate?
Only he or she can solve this debate.
Finally the long absent sky above the Alewife.
Can’t say that I have seen such teeming wildlife...
Swimming in a sea of its Muse.
The lowly continue their sighs
But I do proudly diffuse.
.This plight of mine is hard to toot.
Exemplified by my emphasis on the astral.
With which I dress in an armoured suit.
So my enemies do not mute my oral.
and the skies do tell in high rate,
How esteemed they are on time and ne’er late.
But giving ever virtuous despite
All those dead or dying, without prospect of afterlife.
It is their way to choose:
The dark abyss of guise,
(or) The gentle river of blue
For now I do keep silent, But still I commute,
With those of higher propositions and goal,
So I do instill thyself a deeper root.
In the waterbed truly formal.
Those who truth ‘I do navigate’
and those of lies ‘I do alienate’
At a loss O’ man or mesmerize,
Work harder on thoughts than just plagiarize.
The foes of old are still and sleuth
I show them love and they in lies are baptized
Tradition is there with purpose, don’t misuse.
I see to it the wise stay wise,
For better they will strategize.
And the unwise, wisdom they will pursue.
Giving them their much needed paradise.
And the lost I will use.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:53 AM UTC
someone out in cyber-land
might just be
copying a poem which they'll
attribute to their own tee
unscrupulous replicators
have no qualms
on flagrantly stealing the lines
from genuine arms
when they take a fancy
to your brilliance of verse
they'll naff off with all or part of it
and stow it within their purse
piracy is rife around
online writing dales and dells
it's the pilfering of an authentic
author's heart and soul bells
they say that imitation
is the sincerest form of flattery
but an alternate opinion
would say plagiarists are bereft
of an original wordage battery
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 8:15 PM UTC
Up very early on this particular morning
couldn't sleep not unusual.
Trillions of thoughts racing in his brain
leaving his lovely wife in bed!
knowing to well the problems he'd created
met another himself he hated.
Nine months Jamie had been having an affair
his wife asking why he was late.
On numerous days his mistress wanting him
easy to say it just happened!
How could he let his fling get out of hand
he knew it was underhand.
Couldn't rest his conscience nagged him
no children with his spouse.
Practically one less worry for him to resolve
now his mistress was pregnant!
The usual cliche he still loved his wife
aware this situation was rife!
This didn't help sort out the mess he was in
what was the solution?
None of the answers were fundamentally good
but could not escape the truth.
It would break her heart to if he were to leave
who he never wanted to deceive!
With a deep breath he prepared for honesty
it had been a long time coming.
Prided himself in being an upstanding man
not noticing how low he'd sunk.
Seven thirty approached he heard Emma stir
he had to go and tell her!
With a burning guilt consuming his whole being
he made his way for judgement day!
The Foureyed Poet.
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 7:59 PM UTC
The lily of life, full of humility and devotion - the beautiful kind
that everyone would choose to pick from the fields I think you'll find.
One who defied the definition of a heroic inspiration,
your talent outshone all others; you caused quite the sensation.
You tenaciously grasped onto your stem of life
with the insidious poison of demise within your cells rife,
your colours darkening and fading away,
and yet you remained God's most beautiful creation each and every day.
As your petals fluttered down, by your side was your wife
while you heart-wrenchingly closed the circle of your life.
Now, we all shall miss watching you bloom through the days
and we will remember you, forever and ALWAYS .
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC