"sieged" poems
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers. Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
There rests a hole within our soul,
And some will scream "we've lost control!"
The void will consume the glutton whole,
For every vice, there's a greater foe.
The more we sieged against the wall,
The more it towered and left us small.
Yet behold all the walls we've broke,
And leaving dusty ruins in our wake.
On our knees and skyward we implore,
"Return us to past glory and lore!"
The answer seekers find no reply,
Conservative natures are bound to die.
May we gladly heed our own decree,
And free our spirits to the sky to flee.
Under the hammer, our chains demise,
From the rubble, angelic hymns arise.
Ode of lilac melodies was begun,
Dancing among the moon, stars, and sun.
Seek out wherever your joys may be,
We are masters of our fate said he.
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:07 AM UTC
*Today I poured away my favourite beer
for the long awaited tomorrow's already here
tomorrow I dust my feet and wipe sweat off my face
because finally I've finished running this race
tomorrow I bend down to my shoes and free my lace
pen and paper down, in honour of the moment I rest my case
tomorrow I pat myself in the back and wish myself luck
for seemingly bright is a future that was once dungeon dark,
After writing the very last word in Human Resource Class
tomorrow I'll finally take a deep breath and out, alas!
Another beginning for preference of not using new
tomorrow I've got tops to pop goat's meat to chew
tomorrow I'll dance to the rhythm of momentary serenity
I'll shout out loud from a three years' pent up insanity
to set free the monsters that had sieged my psyche
tomorrow my life changes because I'll start another hike
an adventure to nowhere for that's what I call everywhere
this life hasn't been my cup of tea, neither has it been my food
so tomorrow I say goodbye to calculus, albeit probably not for good
I've learnt not to think that the last page means the story is over
No! Happily ever after doesn't mean no more rolling in the clover
tomorrow for once in my life I shed a tear of relief
it wasn't a record breaking hike but I've overcome the cliff
tomorrow I credit tension and debit nonchalance
I've lost a drink today but I'll make up tomorrow
****** drained and deadbeat till the bone marrow
forget the agony of the fateful arrow of sorrow
tomorrow I'm the man with the whip, the legend of Zorro
A butterfly ready to fly straight out of the cocoon
the air caught within an overinflated balloon
tomorrow I start sailing the high seas once again
in the rocket ship of ambition, space bound shine or rain
for this isn't one of those stories of escapes so narrow
but one of years in a fortress from whence I get acquitted tomorrow*
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
I did errands today
and I was confused
Something was wrong, astray
I mused
I settled into the evening quiet
And my disquieted soul shouted
"The flags were not at half staff"
As the West Wing staff and Cabinet was trimmed by half
Yesterday, Congress was sieged by riff-raff
45 egged them on
Congress counted the Electoral votes
but our troubles are not all gone
Today, I needed to see that flag half-mast
My grief begged for a symbol against the bombast
And yet the flag waved, full staff, as if nothing and no one mattered
And no one has said a word
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 12:36 AM UTC
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers. Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
Cloud formed above with a cold shade
Walked with his heads down, humble
He put smile on every face, never fade
People adored his honesty, they mumble
Whether you disagree the fact, he told it
Said it for the grace of the people, he loved
Got the message and he put his life for it
They spat spite inspite his honesty, hated
The believers, the supporters, they failed
Couldn't help the prophet but to obey him
Never atttack back, just defend, then exiled
They sieged lands, helpless, went with him
Years later, commandments descended
Won their land back, no more bloodshed
Freed the slaves, freedom for all, but laws
Women be brave, you're safe, no more bows
Except for your God
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 12:09 AM UTC
Spirit fooled, my roots are blue now…
a birth insemination façade, it’s all really just a departure station
Blood is overrated like heirlooms now,
my earth interpretation of the Son is really just a miniature statue
From good to bad, popped the lid off by shoplifting,
Coz’ I’m from the hood and glad I can prop what I pulled off by uplifting.
This conniving side, Kundalini said it’s critical…
I remember the pain of discomfort in jail...
Sleeping inside that biting minky next to a Criminal clustered my praying effort to make bail. Spitting fire across with rage, the only love I can feel is from my Mother, so beware of blind fury...My Siblings’ wires are crossed with age, they only love what they can feel from Matter and Affairs , as if bewitched by Muti. I don’t have friends, rather Associates, there’s nothing like a relationship controlled by a timely device. The Real Ones are under the Sand, I call them Appropriates…She was ahead of her Creation ship but opposed by a tide of an untimely demise. Now I’m in solitude on this table surrounded by demons, but Jesu still breaks bread…A Soldier should learn to stay stable even though his bound to say “Yes” to deal with fake Men.
So fasten your seatbelt and countdown the launch sequence
Ready to blast off this sieged land compound, notch the frequence…
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
Do you see that girl?
Her mind hiding years of tormenting secrets, face stained with tears,
Her lips sealed closed promising never to tell what she has been suffering with.
Don’t you see her?
That girl is right there and you don’t you even know
Because you would much rather choose “ignorance is bliss”
Then reach your hand out and help her.
That girl she is screaming trying to get the attention of anyone with a listening ear
She is trying to tell you she can’t take it anymore .She wants you to see
The scares left behind by that unwanted visitor.
The pain that has sieged her heart.
Do you see her?
That girl she binged on the fantasias of what her favorites rapper says make a baddie
So she lap band her addictions and Botox away her depression
Thinking all that cosmic surgery can take away her pain.
What she really needs is for someone to take her by the hand
And tell her that everything be okay and she can make it.
That girl is right there and still can’t see her
Because you are too quick to judge.
If you would take some time and listen you would
Know she is screaming out for help
She has wants you to know she has had it with
The physical and mental abuse.
That girl she is looking for a way out but she keeps sinking
Back into her own inward conflicts that pull her back in faster than quick sand
She like Eva took a big bite out of depiction and enter into the hand of sin.
If you would just stop and pay attention you would have know
That girl she is sitting right next to you .
Now do you see her?
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
milbrightlions of December —
you come announced in multiplicity.
even the night-herald blooms through
the beams of astounded simulations.
buoyantly uttering a word
of light, stilling itself in the sky,
unasked for.
surmounting the Narra and the mangrove,
sieged to a halt in its exactitude
like the uncomplicated machination
of what makes fire simmer in a wick.
all of its brazenness hearten
in easily toppled altitudes — even our
battlements scar our unexplained
liminality we grieve at first glance.
airless are the spaces we lean on,
testing their capacities. shrills bloom
clearer. our mouths plump and glazed.
our flesh hurtle all incarnadine, all true
unlike the twining of roads lit like
faces in the marketplace —
a dynasty of brokenness.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 6:17 AM UTC
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers. Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
.
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers. Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
Robert was his name
A chap with snow skin
A version of the modern Snow White
Yes, not she but he.
He shines not like Rihanna's diamonds
Keeps roaring, but not with Katy Perry
His life was written and published
Meyer was not her lover
Neither did he had his own Vampire Diaries.
The fire sieged
Eyes are in flame
Towards the Goblet of Fire
And the victory was not his
And there he stands in his own grave.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
.
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers. Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
she went up
and then down,
up again, a twirling cup
with the transparent white,
rising against the black,
a swaying and a laidback push
of more of her
and she would curl
in a dance, light and hypnotic
to sync my time with hers
and we'd float
and sink together
into nothingness
out of which
exist, she and i
two fickle bodies
earthly yet divine,
and she burned me free
with the bare truth forlorn
"i lay a trail of ash,
and so would you,
for you are in a body,
by form and pleasure sieged,
free to burn
and be like me."
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 7:54 PM UTC
Your first lesson, my foolish little dove,
is that you must bow. Yes, let your body fall.
Fall harder than a stone. Splash into carpet below.
Why must you bow? What reason could there be?
An interesting thought, my foolish little cherub.
Why should you bow? Why should you kneel?
Why belittle yourself beneath my shadow?
I am no warrior, I have slain no dragons, I have not
sieged any kingdoms, nor have I bested a stronger man.
I am not a man of great intellect, I am no wordsmith,
nor a poet, scientist, astronomer or explorer.
I am no king, nor a lord, emperor or sovereign,
my wealth is scarce, and my charm is weak.
Still, you must bow. Why must you bow,
my foolish little firefly? Because I am better.
In every way, shape and form.
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 10:13 AM UTC
You brought a light into my life.
No, you brought a glow into my life.
Neon.
Stick, necklace, bracelet.
A glow under covers in a fort made of whispers, linen, love.
Except you weren't just the glow,
but also the fort.
You defended me from the bombardment I threw at myself.
I, a dedicated double agent,
and cursed to operate as such.
And like a fort,
while protecting that which was enclosed, you were the one who took the hits.
Feelings, confusion, uncertainties.
Missiles from my life that crashed into yours.
And eventually, broke everything down.
The agent's mission complete.
Starting with a fort,
Ending with just a wall left standing,
you on the other side.
Forts aren't built to be sieged from the inside out.
People aren't built to defend themselves from those they love.
They say that time heals all wounds and they also say that time wears away stone.
But what they sometimes forget is that with effort and pain,
Stone can be broken apart without waiting for the time...
...to...
...drag...
...by...
And then, instead of only useless sand,
there may still be some pieces of worth.
Is there strength left to break down the wall that's still between us?
The stone that's left in your heart?
To get to a place, where all that exists is rubble.
To be carefully sorted through,
finding the memories and remnants of times passed.
To be rebuilt into something stronger than before.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 2:06 PM UTC
Upon a misty mountain top
Beneath a hollow stone
Beside the trees and rivers
In oceans dark and cold
In shining day and blackest night
In elderly and newborn alike
There is but one essential thing
That nameless one that brings us in
And if the minds of men should fail
Our paltry castles sieged or scaled
No razing or embracing could
***** out this, our spiritual sail
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 1:37 PM UTC
the rocking chair creaked, its wooden beams
sagging underneath the weight at the seams,
the love affairs, the sweet motherly memories
seeped into its grains, into the sockets
which eyes stare from an high, high place
wonder, wonder what these eyes
ingrained in the wood would say
about the lives of its companionships
rocking the bodies of souls,
hurting and bleeding,
laughing and sleeping
sore all over so it strained to stand up
and trembling with exhaustion to finally rest
upon the rocking chair...
a rocking chair, with eyes gnarled with siege
sieged, surely, by imperfections embodying the
the spirit of human lifetimes
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
.
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers. Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
.
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 8:11 PM UTC
.
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers. Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
.
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC
There is no space for you in this regime
I had thought once and for all that I might truly be queen
but now I am forced to share my throne with a beast
now only the silence meets my screams
it sits me down for a meal that I must eat
my throne at the end of the table no longer my seat
the hand of night seldom brings
the rest and beauty of the now lost dream
my mind is only sieged in sleep
nothing I say will bring me peace
saving, no longer, can be decreed
not as long as you can speak
and as I weep
for your feet are those of a thief
yet you are not the one to flee
you have made your story one to believe
no, no, you are not welcome in this regime
there is only one crown and only one queen
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
It’s like suddenly being sieged
by black water holding you down,
with one fist around your chest
and another shackling your rest.
So when you finally give in to suffocation.
Smothering screams of molestation.
Crows pecking your burning mind
while you crouch by the window,
waiting for dawn to rush in
and save the day.
Your door is bolted with iron locks
shutting out persistent, saintly knocks.
But your window on the seventh floor
knows the allure of breaking apart.
Letting you try unseelie wings:
freedom without heartstrings.
So why does that sobbing ghost,
pleading by your locked door,
still hold enough ectoplasm
to keep your body safe
but your mind insane?
Feb 14, 2020
Feb 14, 2020 at 3:05 AM UTC