"tenancy" poems
Whirlpool of whirling quaint
Inequality brewing in the
Winepress of smithereens
Fragile polity.
Voices of weariness cried
Out from the wasteyard of
Waste for succour,
Pointing fingers of
Recrimination towards
The abyss of drouth ,
Entangled in conflicts
Of interest.
Winds of improvised emblem
Bearing hunchback of
Woes,
Raising hands from the
Drowning deep sea
For rescue like
A dejected beautiful
Vigaro in a
Turbulent ocean of quarrel
With her spouse.
Whereas reddish fluids of life
Runs across the same veins
And arteries of haves
And haves-not but
Cottage of interests
Hoisting avalanche of
Rainbow-coloured flags
Standing aloof on the
Pole of misrule,
Demarcating their interests.
No accommodation for wants
In the corridor of affluence.
Wants on a trade mission
With wealthy but caged in
The confinement of wealth.
Winds of inequality blew
Whirler of wants into
The marrow of the
Haves-not.
Rains of inequality passing
Through a lockage of lack
Into the improvised,
Doling-out poverty to
Gain the control of
Wealth.
Alas! Blindness sees inner
Vision of darkness from
The households of political
lamia.
Alas! Deafness hears
Discordant vague voices
Of failure from the forest
of frustration.
Alas! Dumbness speaks
Language of gnomes out
Of the vale of forgotten
treasures.
Alas! A four year tenancy
turning into decades
of challenges.
But we shall revive our hope
and raise our voices
tomorrow.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
Quite admirable , awe-inspiring , a divine piece of manufacture
It’s capriciousness is an equivalent of swooning of rapture
This carpet conveys itself as flawless , the fragrance is pleasant
The glossy finish generates a yearning to have it present
The blissful texture is mesmerizing , subject to perfect knitting
Not to mention it’s size is perfectly fitting
~
Though the alternative side seems worn and tattered
And the fabric surrounding is scattered
There are pockets and splits
There are strewed fiber bits
Along the edges are multicolored spots
And the yarn had formed knots
~
At that point the onlooker would become flustered helplessly
Were they to take it into their tenancy ?
Sure it was depleted
And maybe it was slightly untreated
Though it was equally handsome
Despite it’s opposing filthy expansion
~
Then the beholder would ponder a tad
And realize the flaws weren't so bad
They were to be contemplated abnormally
Though as well stood out morbidly
The allotment seemed now suitable
And each side was mutable
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
it's an old tale around town
that if you pierce the ground
with a needle just right
all the spirits will escape
no one really believes it
but the lore's dramatic flare gives a sense of community
at the bus stop stand
twelve children with clay faces
day and night they stare straight ahead
and mumble the same word
over and over
Time passes by,
back bent and wretched
the dead grace of fallen kings
and eventually
the clay breaks,
the heads roll
a visiting CEO
stands to make a speech
but finds an emptiness
clawing at her throat
the clay breaks,
the silent tears
of the heart of a brooding teen
end their tenancy
and return to the ocean
a nightshift manager
swipes their card, closes the barbed gates,
fumbles rolling a cigarette
and draws in a sigh,
but the breath refuses to escape
the clay breaks,
a bluebird sings
but cannot recall the melody
petals clog the gutter
but the branches have long withered
people meet up and gather
to try to quell the empty pressure
they stand to chant the childrens' lost word
but everyone remembers it differently
time passes
routine remains
but there are waves in the waterways
and sometimes people on the surface streets
find themselves lost in the tide
time passes,
the dirt city convulses
under its silent weight
we gather a needle
and pierce the ground,
but nothing happens
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
mumbles, jumbles, into the night
my baby phoenix stumbles into its plight
a better life was merely imagined
but my dove, my dear, bitterly determined
huddled witnesses
there! in the square
a drove of fireflies, watching
her rebirth in fire, laid bare.
her tuckered tail, dead-centered --
shaking off crimson pearls of lunar lunacy,
henceforth, bleeding on her own time, her own tenancy.
her talons look at us.
we look at fiery lips that lash and scorch her.
never more before his penetrating gaze,
as her wings form a column of blaze.
she soars, she screams:
but to nothing but scorn --
the square-goers think she is just forlorn.
my dove, my dear, for your ****** death --
I pray it greets not a dragon's breath.
Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 10:34 AM UTC
I woke up
with the Sun today.
The dawning
Of a new day awaits
With a new tenancy
On life for today
And I have solely
the Sun to thank for,
For it has chosen
Not to pass me by,
Grateful and humble
I am glad to have today
Mar 20, 2023
Mar 20, 2023 at 4:23 AM UTC
ohhh Soul raptured and captured
Fractured in moments of reciprocity
An outward doubt of censorship
Widening smiles of spoken misfortune
A tear, a mend, the exposed laughter
Tributes of adventure rouse the sheep
Rumoured lines of defensive solutions
Evolution with a tenancy of dissolution
Hearts of hearts, a distanced resolution
Insulated in clenched stimulant jokes
Introverted cells taking a pick of self
The *** a sect, to solve and save the rest
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
There is a reckless tenancy to leave the door of my life wide open "come in come in its cold out there" I realize I've only welcomed the cold in.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 1:40 AM UTC
should the old team not
like you being at the place
they'll promptly vacate
your personal space
it pays not to rub them
up the wrong way
if you do that'll shorten
the length of stay
evictions can occur
without a warning's alert
which will find you
on the outer outskirt
they are proficient
in hurling weight around
on taking objection
to any unwanted sound
these landlords won't
negotiate tenancy time
they'll dispose of you
like a luckless dime
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
to Dani
remember when, you do not:
you are a ground slicing the center of
this home.
the long divide the furniture endures.
in front of the colossal tv
bodies spilled like water.
20 minutes was all it took – your name alone,
a potent hygroscopy.
when close enough:
dissipate. You took all the green the foliage could,
soldered to your body a forest it manifests.
repeated, if not a newer foundling:
the space you take for acquisition ,
the faultless tenancy you mistake as counsel.
every saved for, and gleaming space
aspires for venue – translates to an arena for snapshot.
[some mundane depiction ascribes for you to be known]
years later my portrait still hangs perpetually
on a modern furniture from a contemporary skillset.
take this declaration.
years later, leapt to this day and forward:
the surgery of galvanized steel is reminiscent of a departure.
the tedious laborer smiling through bonsai pots
carrying out lobotomies. The afternoon more sterile than
your face as if operation. This town knows you by practice
and habit: all of it sepia, if not leaden.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
**The sign that read 'Room To Let'
hanging in the window of my heart
was removed from the pane, long ago
and discarded, was thrown in the rain.
For if ever to flee from the vacancy you filled
then derelict I'd lay
stone by stone torn away
for you are the cement of my heart.
But if stay you would, and tenancy take up
the key to my heart would you own
and with love would I paint, and decorate
the room that is yours in my heart.
Title deeds to my love would I also transfer
complete with all fixtures and fittings
for the property you'd own is fully furnished my love
no longer so lonely and cold.
With central heating installed, double glazed wall by wall
in my heart you'd be cozy and warm
wrapped safe from the world, in the womb of my heart
adorned with contentment and love.
Only then would you truly own my heart
my own no longer more
the most precious gift that I possess
please take, and hold it with care.
It's given quite freely
with my blessing and consent
a freehold property
handed over, all legal and meant.**
... ... ...
Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 3:09 AM UTC
He will take his coffee black
And alone, though you will observe one day
That he will sometimes, surreptitiously sweeten it
When he thinks that you aren’t looking
The bad weather of his cigarettes he always putting out
Will insinuate their way through his curls
And flavour your kitchen
In strange tastes and lingering long gone stains
He will dread his hair when he’s anxious
Fearful or caught in a bedsit lie
Fingertips finding cures for traps in
The knots and tangles of escapism
And he will smile. Absently and presently
Nodding in all the sign here dotted lines
Murmuring the correct kicked-out-of-home
Superlatives to all your wonderful, desperate ideas
Do not trust his put upon grin
Do not lose yourself in back alley, bottle-cove
Teeth flash and spark, fight or flight smiles
He will have put up this defence before
I know he refrains from cruel words and pauses
Considers his actions and dismisses his first thoughts as cruel
He will look like he’s been caught with one foot
Caught in the cookie jar open door
Just because he doesn’t say ***** doesn’t mean
He doesn’t want to.
His tongue has sculpted this word well before
And the aftermath left him as he called her and apology
This will show control, not concern
And this is measured in proven glances
Designed to test theories
And the limits of his patience
He will wait till he is tucked right into you
To let the lodger act fall
And he will say this house is his
Even if you built it
He will wear an excuse a hundred miles
Or until he is next alone, whichever get’s there last
He will not last
He will not shut the door behind him as he goes
But instead leave a cruel breeze
In the shape of abandonment
His tenancy touch will not
Ask for a deposit back
Nor will he leave you a forwarding address
For all your last warning words
Undelivered on your tongue
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 5:10 PM UTC
Winding fingers,
Weave the thread,
That wrap me so comfortably in my fears,
Embracing.
Mould my mind,
Shamelessly encrypting my thoughts, Through and through.
Grown to shapen my impersonality,
Both for my lack there of,
And my tenancy for the impersonal.
Yet how,
Should be such a bond to my pains,
An Introspective perfection,
Or am I?
Or is that just my guise,
Impersonality guide my imperfection,
Interspective shapes my imperception.
Impossibilities in my inevitabilities.
I am.
Imperfection.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 1:24 AM UTC
I stood in the door way as he put his coat on
he said
"let's go. I don't know what you're waiting on."
our son was babbling
so I playfully babbled with him
"don't repeat him. he knows how to say 'ah.' teach him real words."
he pulled the car in front of the store
I thought he was waiting for someone to cross the road
"GO. what are you ******* sitting there for?"
he drove past the turn
I remained silent
"thanks for reminding me to ******* turn there so we could go to the office"
I get back in the car with the slip
that says I owe 32 hours of community service
or we lose our tenancy
"I don't even know why you stopped going. all you do is sit around and do ******* nothing all day, instead of looking for a real job."
days like this are offering a lot less
than glitter and gold
I should have something brave
and hopeful to respond with
but I don't
this isn't a poem
this is the truth
but I won't do much else with it
than write about it
'cause the talking don't help
& it usually leaves me a
lot worse off
anyway
how was your day, honey?
Feb 7, 2012
Feb 7, 2012 at 3:16 PM UTC
In every human
in the caves within
sharing the space,
wearing darkness
or light as dress
live two tenets*
holding(more or less)
joint tenancy rights
named Inhuman
and Divine
Now a question
to ponder at leisure
Have you ever noticed
one or the other,
moving in or out?
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
It's cold out there
the ice hangs blue in
the evening air and the
night
drips slow,
congealing, a
feeling
I know well.
Solidifying,
not even trying and
inside,outside,
I'm dying.
Ice cold out there,
ice cold in here,
tears freeze as they fall,
icicles on the wailing wall.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 3:04 PM UTC
AS IT IS
Life that we know, is not, as we think it is
In the present we miss at times, both
what could have been and what will be
as from the drawers of our lives we
pull out and savour memories while
riding the illusion of replacing time
but sometimes forgetting that the past
drawn to the present will not sustain
and eventually recede to allow for the
flow of time future to find it’s age, and
life will remain a short tenancy with
a changing lease that time witnesses
without interference at every birth
and in the process we learn a few true
things as time tells your mind’s despair ----
why lament, life’s canvas was empty
at birth and will return to it’s state
when you leave, as you brought nothing
and will take nothing, but will leave
behind your life’s colours on my being
to hold for posterity, as divined in time.
SUDHIR DIWAN
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 1:17 AM UTC
If you are searching for a way
To illuminate our inner-self
And conquer the barriers inside us
Then I have a light for your smoke
May I introduce you to L'Bastardos.
If you're feeling low
For no particular reason you can think of
Then maybe it is time to be thinking of making love.
You've got all these hang-ups about cash flow,
And you are not too sure of how things will reveal themselves
Everything is taken care of and I will take full control-
Give me your body till morning, I don't need your mind presented to me,
And the Devil has your soul, I'm just seeing out the tenancy,
The day has brought the sky to watch you play-
A thousand miles away.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Have you ever wanted to sit in silence
Absolute silence
Stare into nothing, meld with the world
Have you ever questioned your pennant
Your heart's tenant
And count the swine from your pearls
Have you ever wanted to reach out
Learn what they're about
Shoulder to shoulder, analyze
Have you ever wanted to try
While the rest of the universe dies
Count on one soul, epitomize
Well, maybe we think we know the answers
Or maybe we haven't the slightest
But the darkest hour is always near
And always following is the brightest
Some take their pleasure in the form of sin
And some with a grain of salt
Some take their pleasure from the damage within
Some would never know when they're missing out
I never begged for mercy
At least up until this point
And I would never say it outright
But I want out of this joint
In the worst way, my surroundings need to burn
And perhaps then, this town would thrive
For honor is merely a lesson learned
When the odds are against you to survive
I wish to shine.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
I am me
I never was your employee
Never was a soccer ball to punch
Never was a joke to make over lunch
The customer is always right
I disagreed with that and never put up a fight
Your wrath was short and sweet
My tenancy left with days to beat
Now I am back to me
I never was your employee
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 7:58 AM UTC
When problems surround you, don’t let it drown you;
Swim adeptly to overcome it;
No one is without problems in this beautiful world;
There is no pond without riddles;
All we experience is the tenancy, during then, keep ourselves however is within ourselves;
Master it to stay merrier till life lasts...
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 11:38 PM UTC