"thwart" poems
listen
beloved
i dreamed
it appeared that you thought to
escape me and became a great
lily atilt on
insolent
waters but i was aware of
fragrance and i came riding upon
a horse of porphyry into the
waters i rode down the red
horse shrieking from splintering
foam caught you clutched you upon my
mouth
listen
beloved
i dreamed in my dream you had
desire to thwart me and became
a little bird and hid
in a tree of tall marble
from a great way i distinguished
singing and i came
riding upon a scarlet sunset
trampling the night easily
from the shocked impossible
tower i caught
you strained you
broke you upon my blood
listen
beloved i dreamed
i thought you would have deceived
me and became a star in the kingdom
of heaven
through day and space i saw you close
your eyes and i came riding
upon a thousand crimson years arched with agony
i reined them in tottering before
the throne and as
they shied at the automaton moon from
the transplendant hand of sombre god
i picked you
as an apple is picked by the little peasants for their girls
82.4k
Earned under great spell of segregation,
With luster grand and blinding glimmers of false hope,
Standing like Trajan over his land, twice the spoils of war.
We must now thwart the hatred,
We must now look our brothers in the skin and decide if we can shoot them in the mouth.
Where lies the liberty in mysticism?
Why is this culture facilitating our schism,
And how now will we draw our party lines, or be done with them for a line in the sand?
Let us not fold in the face of dictatorship.
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 7:52 AM UTC
She thinks that she is only silver.
Second place, forever and again.
But this girl ... she is so, so much more.
She is my dear, dearest friend.
Her soul, while brighter than the sun,
is tortured by confusion and things in her past ...
lofty goals that would thwart even the toughest
and a lifestyle going so fast.
Courageous ... and meek.
A warrior ... and a flower ... all at the same time.
Legions of followers, those who look up ... never to see,
the little girl who roams in her mind.
She will get were she is aiming ...
my heart believes in her so.
She is strong, stubborn ... so very brave,
and this child inside her grows.
Now distant, I'll still watch her life
unfold
from this abyss, for reasons that may forever remain
untold.
She is far more valuable than any silver, precious gems ...
yes, even gold.
No object d'art or more costly antiquity ...
has ever,
ever been sold.
I only wish that I could have somehow ...
somehow
made her see ...
that as my friend ... she was so, so much more ...
than merely silver to me.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 7:11 AM UTC
*Casting spells in a song of lust
with such beauty undenied.
He's chased her half a lifetime
and have lost but all his pride.
Sailing all the oceans blue
He's left his ship dashed on the rocks.
Begging for that enchanted kiss
from his mermaid as she mocks.
Her voice to call within a gale
scent heady upon the waves.
Nets shredded trying to capture her
yet every night he craves.
To nary catch a fleeting glimpse
of her golden hair or tail.
He's chased her 'cross the storming seas
as winds and rain did wail.
Forever calling out her name
He's come to rest in every port.
On moonlit nights he hears her song
attempts to see her, she does thwart.
The scent of salt does show his years
but still he sails to her song.
Forever on the shifting waves
is where his heart belongs.*
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 9:36 AM UTC
Seek freedom from the anxious mind
For, you have the freedom to choose
Break the shackles of intimidation
Claim your freedom for the sleeping madness
Wake up to a world of freedom, for it’s yours
Freedom for the prejudices and the dogmas
Claim your freedom for the untrusting world
Freedom beckons you from the deepest caverns
Thwart the advances of violence, and seize freedom
Do not pay heed to the abusive words
As your freedom to speak up is jeopardized
The weakest of hearts and minds, resort to violence
And their abode inside is wrecked by loss of freedom
You freedom will come when you walk out
Opening the gates of your heart to freedom
The weak personalities seeks to strangle freedom
To dominate the beautiful souls, as they feel threatened
Assert your freedom; this is becoming a puppet’s world
Always made to act when the strings are pulled
There is a world full of love and freedom waiting for you
You just have to cross the threshold of the murky world
Only you can win your freedom, if you choose to
Seek freedom, and slam the door on the world of captivity
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
Am I attractive, hot, or ****
Or just a forlorn idiot flexing
In order to join the *** scene?
I put a towel down
And set up a picnic
My head spins round
From the dirt they kick
On my meal
To make me feel
Scared and alone
With nowhere to roam
So I stay here laying in the sun
On the other side of a Gatling gun
I searched for a savior
Who's willing to say words
To me
For free
My search was fruitless
My eyes turned youthless
I grazed in the grass
As time quickly passed
After I finished my food
And was left there to brood
I became a floating satellite
That was accustomed to night
Because of my frights
That reflected all light
Now I see ants trying to feed on my crumbs
They must think I'm pretty desperately dumb
To not know they enforced my segregation
When I had naively sought validation
I waited there silently salivating
They responded by not validating
It's for that bitter reason
During my new season
I reflect my light on the approaching ants
So I may thwart their encroaching dance
My humble heart yearns
As I watch bugs burn
They wouldn't partake in my feast
So I morphed into a brutish beast
Now they're here to eat what's left
If they can survive my dragon's breath
They put out the fire in my heart
But ignited my mind
My useless humanity parts
As I focus on time
A time that keeps passing
While signs keep flashing
As burning bugs dying
Or sad satellites flying
My life was no peaceful picnic
After they noticed my sickness
And left me alone
For that is my home
When I don't need validation anymore
I search for love
Unfortunately I know what's in store
A picnic in the mud
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 2:58 AM UTC
Clothe yourself in the full armor of God
and be able to withstand the Devil’s schemes;
know that he’s only the father of lies,
looking to destroy your earthly dreams.
Cover yourself with Christ’s Breastplate
of Righteousness and protect your torn heart;
your essence has been purchased for His Kingdom,
meaning that you’re meant… to be set apart.
Gird your waist with the Belt of Truth
and stand firm with integrity and honesty;
don’t allow your flesh’s nature to interfere
with conditions that you need observe and see.
Shod your feet with the Gospel’s peace;
keep from searching for earthly trouble;
instead congregate with the Body of Christ
and focus on your faith becoming redoubled.
The ongoing battle is not with flesh and blood;
wield Faith’s Shield to quench life’s fiery darts.
Remember that the wiles of Satan are limited!
So outmaneuver him with your spiritual smarts.
Put on your Helmet of Salvation,
for the battles are within one’s mind.
Allow the Divine knowledge of The Word
to resonate with your spirit and find…
yourself continually praying in the spirit
and with understanding on all occasions.
Be alert to His transformational messages,
for upholding Godly principles and persuasions.
Resist the Devil now and he will flee;
endeavor to thwart the enemy’s attack;
be strong in the Lord with power of His might;
promises of victory have been already stacked.
For we don’t wage war with human methods and plans.
We use mighty weapons to knock down evil strongholds
and breakdown every proud argument that keeps people
from knowing God… as His Kingdom, continues to unfold.
.
.
.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Eph 2:2, 6:10-20; 1 Thes 5:5-8; Joel 2:12-13; Rom 4:5;
Jam 4:7; 2 Cor 10:3-5
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.amazon.com/Reaching-Towards-His-Unbounded-Glory/dp/1419650513/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie;=UTF8&qid;=1388058560&sr;=1-1&keywords;=reaching+towards+his+unbounded+glory
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
He motioned for her to take her place on the back.
He braced himself steady as she slid herself onto the rack.
Once she had settled, he handed her his gunny sack,
He told her keep it safe as he tackled the offbeaten track.
The night was quiet, save for the crickets chirping in unison
Hiding behind the clouds, the moon gave out a dim ominous glow.
The tapper finally felt a tiny sliver of trepidation
He wasn't sure of the outcome, that night would eventually show.
The whole time, he was thinking in his busy little head...
He tried to devise ways to thwart this playful, mischievous being.
But those thoughts of his were quickly derailed instead.
For her perfumed presence was very much intoxicating.
Soon they had arrived at the foot of the hill
He hastened his pedalling to meet the uphill slope.
He would have continued slamming on the pedals until...
He felt her hand on his shoulder clench into a tight *****
He tilted his head back towards his beautiful passenger.
In a calm manner he mouthed the words asking, "What's the matter?"
Her voice came right after in a nervous stammer,
"Would you mind slowing down because last night this was where I had fallen over..."
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
As days jitter by gleamed with such sheer and merry,
Then comes the memoriam-filled allegory;
Called the times of meditation and redemption,
Purple-shrouded cloth with blood has brought salvation.
40 days to drop down and be poured on ashes,
40 nights to commemorate for such dashes;
A memoir to be sung, flinging an elegy,
Sacrifice of the Son tuned to a eulogy.
But have no disheartened faith heard on stricken grief,
For a promise of sacrifice is worth that brief;
It’s the moment to recall, repent, and renew,
Making a mark not turn to long the past askew.
Lenten season speaks of turning from the darkness,
Losing a part to share with Him pure happiness;
Just as Christ suffered for the shortcomings of men,
His Church must respect and join for the time given.
So do not grieve for his loss, or that of your own,
It will be worth such a gain and it shall be sown;
For that choice, a short-time loss is a long-time gain,
With God, He provides us courage to surpass pain.
Such as to come thwart on our midst His forthcoming,
Prepare not only now but till life deems rusting;
But until time hovers to an eternal halt,
Apprehend, amend on such light and grave faults.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
If one pulls
A sheep astray
The flock is sure
To move that way.
To fish in a troubled water
De-constructing history
Thwart we could
The old social fabric of unity
And create we shall
A generation
Suffering a crisis of identity!
*“Ask me not why
They are better than
My peers and I
Also sensitize me not to deny,
What I see with my naked eye!
In attire,grooving,life style ,
Cosmetic application and civilization
They galvanize youth's attention!”*
Come up with a generation
We shall
That does not bat an eye
Our dictates to buy,
A generation that does barter
An age-old culture
With fads,for such a venture
Proves to it an adventure.
To achieve what we terribly sought
If we use somebody of note
Fame that has got
Say an artist or a poet
The mob will not
Fight-shy to drink a lot
From our poison ***
Without a grain of salt
“God doesn't exist "
Could be top on the list!
Alas, we could say “Worship us!"
*"Forget the Key And Lock theory!
Why should you worry?"*
Or social and religious norms
We could rock
With *“A lock could lock a lock
even in a wedlock!”*
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
Under sizzling and bleeping
The time runs nigh
Between heaven and hell
In a room, too bright
Runs a body deadly circles
Captured in pipes
While the fellowship falls silent
As the headman decides
To live and let die
Slow, but soon, the dying noise
Leaves a weakly beating heart
Fighting it's own pointless war
No men alive shall ever thwart
And lifes children turn quiet
As they face the final loss
The fact they can´t deny
They live and let die
Now, the silence bales and centers
Around the fallen prey
Slowly, death spreads, like a cancer
Drives the living far away
Until only ease is lagging
In the minds that still stand by
Relief about the outcome
To live and let die
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 3:23 PM UTC
Arrow upon arrow the stricken heart endured,
Strife and doom its woeful dream ensured.
Vile phantoms of creed with deception en route
Intended to thwart, unveil their wicked fruit.
Satan had withered our spirit's joy and flame,
And gathered an earthly militia; among those to blame.
A maze he encrypted, the heir's light yet unseen,
All prospects stolen, great efforts wiped clean.
Creative their mind twilight art they presented,
The Sphere's evil hosts all reflected and resented.
Lost was all hearing, faith and sight,
Misplaced sense of wonder and good sense in flight.
"I worship nothing!" His heir once preferred,
Such was the spirit in high degrees deterred.
"Paragons of justice, will I ever get to see
The day my misfortunes cease to be?
They shadow, entrap and starve my soul
Of love and joy and all control!
So tired I am, and tired I shall stay
If purpose here is merely to convey
No purpose at all, except for one:
To enslave the soul, casting punishment for fun.
My simple wish, then, is simply to impart
An end to this misery and to my sanctioned heart."
His despairing heir put in motion so
An idea most frightening, its telling shall forego...
Immerse in their demise, allow for stricken grief,
Then foresee the King's love and His graciousness in fleet.
He gathered around, with love He replaced
Satan and his minions conspiring in space;
The King broke off the heir's chains with great might,
He enlightened our spirit, who had not known the light.
The heir's desperate cries reached The King's vibrations,
He released the heir and nullified all limitations.
Profound divine wisdom our heir now espies;
Seeing The King's glory and the through destroyer's lies.
Great wisdom and revelation now fill this mended heart,
But it's a tale best left for another form of art...
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
Ah, would I were a German!
I'd trouble my translator
With nouns the size of Hamburg
And leave the verb till later.
And if I were a Welshman
My work would thwart translation
With ninety novel plurals
In strict alliteration.
And would I were Chinese!
I'd throw them off their course
With twelve unusual symbols
All homophones of "horse".
But as it is, I'm English:
And I'm the one in hell
By writing in a language
Impossible to spell.
Sep 3, 2010
Sep 3, 2010 at 8:27 AM UTC
Like a fool, with an unrecognized devotion,
I loved him deeply yet I wasn’t loved in return.
I got fed with all our irrational argumentation,
Often gave up, yet still had doubts if I’d end such relation.
Then I asked myself, shall I give him a chance?
Must I endure this unrequited love?
Hear thy mournful cries of trepidation and doubt,
“Why can’t I find the remnants of thy piteous heart?”
They say, better leave him and make a new start
But intense emotions of ambiguity would thwart.
Thus I tell myself, give him a second chance.
You’ll be happy soon; hold on though it’s an unrequited love.
Tears would then fall to somehow ease the sorrow
And try to veil the truth that thy heart cometh hollow.
But even if all tears’ dried up today ‘til tomorrow,
When all rains would halt, still, no rainbow will follow.
But I tell myself, wait for another chance.
That time maybe, he’ll learn, and it won’t be an unrequited love.
Years after, I still loved him amidst the endless plights.
He drained my soul; brought me to a black hole in life.
Thoughts that ‘I don’t deserve this’ amassed to greater heights
Then a string cut loose, I faced the sightless sight.
Now, I begged myself, none more of these chances.
Please, I plead, quit enduring this unrequited love!
Beneath a thousand twinkling stars in my windowpane,
Lies the most perfect replica of wishful thinking in suffering and pain---
My self with an unrequited love.
~Danessa Jutba~
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 5:23 AM UTC
The golden sand swept around in synthe of beech,
where he hath made promises which he’ll keep.
He held her hands and walked past the bow,
the fazed waves whispered with a thwart,
Being thalosophile she stood with no go.
When the sea embraced the shore,
She could not keep him forsaken anymore.
Both settled to relish the saline tang,
As they oft had love pang.
One moonlit night she saw banshee,
Who warned her foredooming death,
She feared his life & ran gasping for breath.
She saw the wind unusually howled
When her beloved sailed and left her in cold.
She woke up and hushed and scream,
“this was a dream!”
Alas! Unconsolable she seam,
When She saw his scar left on her heart,
Memories flashing by and her world falling apart.
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
I have almost been reduced to a homeless pauper.
This fatal city, Antioch,
has consumed all my money;
this fatal city with its expensive life.
But I am young and in excellent health.
My command of Greek is superb
(I know all there is about Aristotle, Plato;
orators, poets, you name it.)
I have an idea of military affairs,
and have friends among the mercenary chiefs.
I am on the inside of administration as well.
Last year I spent six months in Alexandria;
I have some knowledge (and this is useful) of affairs there:
intentions of the Malefactor, and villainies, et cetera.
Therefore I believe that I am fully
qualified to serve this country,
my beloved homeland Syria.
In whatever capacity they place me I shall strive
to be useful to the country. This is my intent.
Then again, if they thwart me with their methods --
we know those able people: need we talk about it now?
if they thwart me, I am not to blame.
First, I shall apply to Zabinas,
and if this ***** does not appreciate me,
I shall go to his rival Grypos.
And if this idiot does not hire me,
I shall go straight to Hyrcanos.
One of the three will want me however.
And my conscience is not troubled
about not worrying about my choice.
All three harm Syria equally.
But, a ruined man, why is it my fault.
Wretched man, I am trying to make ends meet.
The almighty gods should have provided
and created a fourth, good man.
Gladly would I have joined him.
2.2k
It took me 1 year to make it happen
To utter the words inside my head
And present myself as a must to be read
It took me 12 months to get my act together
To turn potential into evidence
Of my poetic competence
It took me 52 weeks to have and to hold
To give myself to the rhythmical art
And become a master of the heart
It took me 365 days to tame the passions
And use them however I please
To cure heartache with lyrical remedies
It took me 8760 hours to go up and down
And invite feelings of hesitation
To thwart my blooming resignation
It took me 525.6000 minutes to realise
That admiration will never suffice
As long as I ignore my own advice
That it might take 31.536.000 seconds to make a big change
But that sometimes all it takes is a second or five
To make a difference in someone’s life
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 6:38 AM UTC
#
It is harshness, beautiful girl..
but far from being a cruelty.
I'm trying to find the words because
you deserve to have the chance, to choose
*based on the truth of what is truly loving
and what is not.*
In your need for access to raw,
core survival,
the machine has put its hooks in to you
deep, beautiful girl.
And my only access-- to get through
the machine's intricate gearwork
is unfortunately, during the time
when you are struggling most,
within the greatest of calamities--
But it is at that time..
when the highly mechanized machine's, gearwork
is most penetrable.
So naturally it is at that time,
when an intervention
would seem, so cruel..
Ah, babe..
I'm not afraid of my love for you
actually killing you..
There is something deep inside your spirit
that somehow tells you--
That even in the midst of the chaos..
And within even that which so often
feels as being cruel..
this might indeed, actually be Love--
The real thing.
But at that level.. who on Earth could actually
trust that it actually, could be?
And your well perceived, perception of cruelty
comes from the fact is it must seem to you--
That every time you truly open up
your heart to me.. I seem to blast you,
and knock you to the ground..
when you feel you need me, most.
I'm still looking for words
to describe it, beautiful girl--
But it has to do with something..
somewhere,
in the Realms of love--
*And the things that take it in
And the things that thwart it.*
There are not yet human words,
here on Earth, to describe it..
But one day, my so very beautiful..
I know that one day, there will.
#
Jul 4, 2021
Jul 4, 2021 at 9:33 PM UTC
twig, plastic, wire
laboriously gathered
woven into a basket
with leaves as carpet
where sits the queen
for life to be ushered in.
raises fearful cry
if anyone is nearby
must thwart the enemy
with belligerent cacophony
circle over head to say
stay away.
takes not a minute
to uproot it
falls to the human might
in an unequal fight
between the highly placed
and not so blessed.
then like always
fills uneasiness
a dull ache in the chest
for a sin in haste
a shot of gun
that cannot be undone.
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
O' heart, I wonder how
you can store
so many different
emotions of ours
in just thy four puny
chambers
while pumping away the
liquid of life
O' heart in you we
discover love
but side by side you can
harbour hate
In you we find the
emotion of happiness
but side by side you
simmer rage!
When you cease to beat
many plans you thwart
May God protect the
young human heart.
And while some O' heart
you hold dear
some make you skip a
beat in fear!
O' heart but we find in
you as well
the vile emotion of
jealousy
Such a potpourri of
emotions in you dwell
Help filter out any wrong
ones for you and me!
A mere four chambers
indeed, but spacious are
they
Invite therein
whomsoever in the
world you may
But in the end forget not
to reserve
atleast a single chamber
for its Creator, to
preserve
The creator of hearts
More than that deserves.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
Isn't it odd how the less you want me, the more I want you?
Or how the less you're available, the more I want to see you?
How the more I think of you, the less I think of him?
And yet somehow I still love him so much.
I do not want to let him go, but I want you too.
Evil me.
Synnical me.
Stupid,
immature,
despicable me.
I love him with all of my heart, but somehow I still have feelings for you.
But you and I have never been together,
And at this rate never will be.
And this little tid bit of information drives me crazy.
I know for a fact you like me.
Though I don't say it.
You know for a fact I like you,
But you hide it.
I show to the world I love him,
We both know it.
So why do we play these flirty little games?
Texting all night, walking together in the hallways,
Songs on the radio remind me of you,
So flirty, so fun, exciting and new.
But he is one person I will not betray.
I love him so much, even more each day.
But for some reason you have the power to thwart our love.
Just enough to make me ponder, to puzzle.
What is it with you that gives off so much chemistry?
Especially when I am in love with another? it scares me.
You scare me in fact, no other way to say it.
I fear you because I am in fact so drawn to you.
Here in lies the danger,
Of human nature.
Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 10:54 PM UTC
Of anger, hate, greed and Pride
which is a greater folly
Anger for sure will make
you burn and cause distress
or death to the other. Hate
surrogate of anger, more
overt and consuming but
a child of anger. Greed
seems to have nothing to do
with the above two but breeds
anger and hate towards all
that thwart the insatiable
fire of greed. As there is not
anything that can fulfill the
gastronomy of greed.
Pride though looks pretty
and makes one perky
takes the pride of place
in destroying all possibilities
of human kind. As it is
the pride that sets one
upon a perch that deceives
Reality. A perch that
makes unreal real and the
Truth into Untruth
Anger, hate and greed
need the theater of Pride
to play. Pride is a crown
of thorns that makes
one perceive even pain as
pleasure. Pride is the
Maya, the delusion of life.
Refinement of ignorance
Is not Enlightenment.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
The spirit and the ego,
At war for a turn
To guide my ways
Through all of days
From the cradle to the urn.
The ego goes down, the walls follow.
My spirit emerges nimble and free.
Its stay is short,
The doctors will thwart
The ignited spiritual emergency.
Emotion pulses through me,
My mind and voice are rapid.
A needle through my arm
To abate my alarm.
Soon I'll feel vacant and vapid.
Now I sit at home,
Too lethargic to walk out the door.
Perhaps low energy
Is better than insanity,
Considering where it got me before.
This is how it ought to be,
The ego in control of it.
I lose my mind,
Become unkind,
From an unleashed, suppressed spirit.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC