"symposiums" poems
The glass of wine spins on sins
Encircling the royal roulette
All rotating on a hamster wheel
Pinned on canvas and illusional walls
So tiny in errors and unbalanced books
Unaccounted annotated distributions
Twisting hands on colluded coils
Deeper projections from the heart
An eruption of the social notions
Extracted on the paradise of life
For no truth echoes authenticity
Eccentrically finding a lived reality
Plato symposiums and simulacrums
Pavlov trails of social conditioning
Sampled in tented objectifications
Functioning within the invisible rules
We sniffle as we expose the false actuality
Reactive explosions from robust heat
Unloaded rods dancing under the moon
In our tenderness rejecting the paradigm
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
You useless man, Socrates -
I think you need a shower…
I don’t know what the Athenians
find in you but as far as I can see you’re just wasting time
hanging out in the market places
and at dinners and symposiums
where all you do is stay late drinking nights
and talk about philosophy, and ideas
and of origin of things and justice
and nature of human beings
and such useless, impractical things;
and you bring not a cent home
and I can’t count on you for regular support
as all women and good wives might expect of a husband;
and you can’t even hold a good argument with me
for all you do when I use my Xanthippe’s questioning method
against your so-called Socratic method
all you do is mumble and tumble
and use words like shrew and nag
when all I’m asking of you is for you
to keep your part of the implied bargain in marriage
to put some food on the table
and bring some silver coins for the future of our three children:
Lamprocles, Sophroniscus and Menexenus -
have you forgotten them? Do you even remember their names?
And so you bring no money
but instead all you give me are empty words
and lofty words and airy words
and words coined in your head
and you put silly ideas that’s just confusing our children
and if not for me taking the children under my wings
they’ll just turn out to be mere
talkers and market-place prattlers
and hangers-on and leeches at other men’s feasts.
They may have a place in misguided history
if they follow your way
but they will bring weak bodies to their wives
when it is their time.
I don’t want them to be talkers,
and idealists and philosophers, Socrates –
I want them to be responsible
and I want them to bring meat and coins home
regularly and steadily, Socrates.
Socrates, you old man, I don’t care what they say of you
in the Greek world –
I haven’t had proof of your worth and value
here at home, especially in the kitchen.
You useless man, I think you need a shower;
maybe this water from the chamber-pot will wake you up.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 1:27 AM UTC
My displays are astounding
I regress to an infants zeal
Because I hate everything around me
And need to tell you how I feel
Tell you things of sugar rain
And crystal mines of lore
Cuddle my ribs with pure disdain
As my body washes to the shore
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down
Symposiums with the fey are symptomatic of enchantment
(Or insanity)
Seeing beyond a day
Of desolute drudgery
The eyes in my head keep assuming I am dead
(Those whispers from the back of my head)
And the fear of living is the wound of
Re-living what another might have
Said.
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down
Crickets outside are singing so
Sleepless nights feel less lonely
Cannot decipher which side of me
Is dreaming when I'm awake till
Early morning.
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
By this time 2019 the onslaught had begun..
devastating attack on mankind not carried out by guns..
just a virus, tiny yet deadly ravaging the world..
not an equal monster in decades, Covid-19 it was called.
mysteriously crept into our world, inexplicable origin..
lurking around rails, trails and air just to gain entry..
wrecking down all systems immune, nervous and circulatory..
sniffles life out of victims at the early stages, men was scary.
left us so terrified in our towns and in our cities..
grounded and brought to a halt economic activities..
built up a partition of no solid material..
amongst us all, rich, poor and even the influential.
Once crowded streets in its wake were lonely and desserted..
nice playground activities and symposiums neglected..
for the dread of the global monsterous virus..
oh! no! never again we hope we beat the virus.
It took from us loved ones both promising and elderly..
frightening mode of operation, collapsing the lungs steadily..
trailing wails world all over from the healthcare facilities..
universal pandemonium, we were overwhelmed seemingly.
Emotionally traumatising was the unpleasant experience..
of watching its victims gasping in the midst of abundance..
I cried like many many others seeing a menace to existence..
and all we did was pray for return of peaceful ambience.
till date still place a limit on human interactions..
medical practitioners working their ***** off..
to get a cure for it although now there's vaccination..
was an era in human history, covid-19 what a distraction!
Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 10:39 AM UTC
douse my beehive mind
in liquid amphetamines
to steady the blurry split screens
of multi-tabbed greyhound speed
barking madly at stalking shadows
fallen from my heels
jolting me out of my skin.
throw a rope ladder down
into the entrapment basement
resident stage to the passive aggressive
clinking cutlery orchestra
conducting butter knife cutting taunts
torturing my melted butter split aura.
hanging on to the edge of a chair
inside my chest where every breath
echoes the beat of a marching band
& trembling hands stand
on melting ice as they somersault
in the winter solstice
frozen from cavity vault to my face.
i look to see through sleeps eyes
where the mercury penny drops
under arrow pierced apples
in shade dripping with nights clarity
on a melted sea beneath
the flowing eastern wind
blowing the misty uncertainty to smithereens.
neuron explosions sketch constellations
out of flame infused
squeezed citrus peels
as sparks dance
where beasts of land, air & sea
collide in dotted starry symbols
drawing borders across synchronicity.
my rubber soles are worn thin
while stones fill the insides
but rubber-band wings stretched wide
bending tides & mountains appear as molehills
from weightless vapor heights dissolving the sky.
i seek the calm of crocodile waters
where i can stretch my legs
on fertile silt riverbeds
& soak in the golden sunshine smile
washing down in spectacular arrays
of scepter conjured waves.
open the gates to my airborne castle
where hope finds ****** interpretations
along the path to eternal symposiums
i'm lead to Jericho's jenga answers.
Dec 14, 2022
Dec 14, 2022 at 8:08 PM UTC
In this place I've retreated to,
Away from the noise and light that
Illuminates all of my wrong, all
My guilty feelings are written
Down my back as
Everyone I know looks down, in
On me -
I go into the cave,
I shiver against rough cold walls and
Listen
To my own breath echo.
To be alone here is new to me, like
A fresh house cat beneath the bed -
I don't want to trust.
I don't want to listen.
They're looking for me, I see their
Flashlights and glow sticks and
Emergency packs,
They all want to help me, that's all.
I am
Surrounded by piles
Of scrapped letters and explanations,
Crumpled allegories,
Unfinished symposiums, my
Sweat is all about me and my
Stick of graphite leaves more on my hands than
On any sentence of elaboration as to
How I feel,
What I want.
I've nearly
Used all resources here, I've
Crushed the sharp point of my utensil, I have
Very little ability to amount these thoughts
Into dialogues of truth... I don't mean to lie,
I'm just
Out of time like a mouse in a corner
Feigning death, stalling for
Some better manipulation I can
Replace with my relationships so that
My ambiguity will remain charming and unquestioned.
My candle runs dripped over and small,
But I'll learn to write without light
If I have to, learn to
See without sight if I have to,
Learn to
Demonstrate my highest capacity to
Stubborn my way out of this hole -
When I do,
I wont stop running
Until the water hits me,
Cleans my hands and
Drifts me out
Into the neutral, knowing sea.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
*
*Good that LOVE is not life
Good that LOVE is not work
Good that LOVE is not a marriage
Good that LOVE is not an agreement
Good that LOVE is not a signed contract
Good that LOVE is not a Terms of reference
Good that LOVE is not a Job description
Good that LOVE is not an Annual plan
Good that LOVE does not have a budget
Good that LOVE does not have to give account of expenses
Good that LOVE does not have targets
Good that LOVE does not come under HR rules
Good that LOVE does not come under LEGAL laws
Good that LOVE does not follow rules, regulations
Good that LOVE does not care for moral, ethics
Good that LOVE does not get awards, trophies,
Good that LOVE does not get citations, certificates
Good that LOVE does not get applause, fame
Good that LOVE is not a post or position
Good that LOVE does not care of hierarchy
Good that LOVE is not about status and power
Good that LOVE does not fetch you friends
Good that LOVE is not a job or business
Good that LOVE is not about 9 to 5 job
Good that LOVE does not expect meetings, conferences
Good that LOVE does not expect workshops symposiums
Good that LOVE does not make you pretentious
Good that for LOVE one has to wear a fake mask
Good that LOVE does not let you follow any ideology
Good that LOVE is not reimbursed by salary, wage
Good that LOVE is not paid for your work done
Good that LOVE is not found on Internet, social media
Good that LOVE does not bother about likes, dislikes
Good that LOVE does not exist on laptop and mobiles
Good that LOVE is unlike any other relationship
Good that LOVE is not restricted to family & friends
Good that LOVE is not about learning, knowledge
Good that LOVE is not about literacy and education
Good that LOVE does not care for wealth and riches
Good that LOVE is not about decisions and making choice
Good that LOVE does not believe in religions, God/dess
Good that LOVE does not suffer from phobias & neurosis
Good that LOVE does not hide behind ideologies & doctrines
Good that LOVE is liberal and progressive
Good that LOVE is a rebellion against everything
Good that LOVE is the one that kills EGO "I"
Good that LOVE is.... "LOVE"...!*
*
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 11:39 PM UTC
TODAY I made a choice...In the quiet stillness of my mind.
to let nothing keep me from the essence of this unique day.
TODAY I have decided to enjoy this day for what it’s worth.
I have decided to appreciate what was already in motion, to create no commotion,
and silently feel my emotions. TODAY I will not be led astray I will receive the grace
of this abundant DAY. I hear, as I listen, I envision, as I see. I inspire, as I speak
I appreciate, as I spectate. The birds provide symposiums in an array of songs for my
enjoyment.
TODAY I have chosen to be the victor as I gather my thoughts, and write them to the
sweetness of their various harmonies, The birds enlighten my presence with the symphonies
they sing as they entertain me each with his own song. This morning I was awakened by
bird’s-songs delighting me with melodies, I the guest of honor lend precocious ears to their
cause. Tweeting, throaty rhapsodies calling- calling. Others join in with renditions that blend
perfectly as the day begins. Next the babbling of the water in the brook adds a rush to
the thrush of the warblers song. The sound of water fills my emptiness as it flows
magnificently to flush the streams of my captured soul. TODAY I become at one with nature ;
the Water and birds have effortless nourished my soul and restored my integrity so.. TODAY
I have lived harmoniously without concern for whatever may come tomorrow. Because
TODAY I HEARD the birds sing, and have decided to listened intently.
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
TODAY I made a choice...In the quiet stillness of my mind.
to let nothing keep me from the essence of this unique day.
TODAY I have decided to enjoy this day for what it’s worth.
I have decided to appreciate what was already in motion, to create no commotion,
and silently feel my emotions. TODAY I will not be led astray I will receive the grace
of this abundant DAY. I hear, as I listen, I envision, as I see. I inspire, as I speak
I appreciate, as I spectate. The birds provide symposiums in an array of songs for my
enjoyment.
TODAY I have chosen to be the victor as I gather my thoughts, and write them to the
sweetness of their various harmonies, The birds enlighten my presence with the symphonies
they sing as they entertain me each with his own song. This morning I was awakened by
bird’s-songs delighting me with melodies, I the guest of honor lend precocious ears to their
cause. Tweeting, throaty rhapsodies calling- calling. Others join in with renditions that blend
perfectly as the day begins. Next the babbling of the water in the brook adds a rush to
the thrush of the warblers song. The sound of water fills my emptiness as it flows
magnificently to flush the streams of my captured soul. TODAY I become at one with nature ;
the water and birds have effortless nourished my soul and restored my integrity so.. TODAY
I have lived harmoniously without concern for whatever may come tomorrow. Because
TODAY I HEARD the birds sing, and have decided to listened intently.
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC