"twittered" poems
talkshows and the yellow press
get excited in excess
over his shenanigans
that delight his faithful fans
rumors of these *** affairs
strong words for all macho players
in the game of social thrones
texts with threatening undertones
for minorities and women
treating immigrants like demons
neither fans nor his opponents
seem to notice the components
of the white house strategy
throw them bones
fodder for the yellow press
and while they fight
clandestinely out of sight
works the Trumpian policy
money laundering blatant lies
scolding allies breaking ties
adoring foes praising those
usurpers of democracies
experts in atrocities
slowly yet persistently
undermine civility
with foul language
fill all courts with servile judges
court the aristocracies
of oil sheikdoms in the East
praising communist dictators
who have helped him build his towers
step by step he‘s leading US
from the groups of international powers
to an isolation desert
at the margins of the world
slogans we have rarely heard
over decades
now re-nourished
twittered with presidential flourish
make America small again
warning voices call in vain
no wonder the statue of liberty
is hiding her face in misery (*)
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
← ↕ →
U text me dis
I text U dat
She dissed my dis
I sent last Sat.
U LOL’ed
on down the list
I sexted sixth—
my 7th missed.
U banned my width
I booked your face
U twittered on—
She saved my space.
U scrolled me down
He tweeted smiles
We USB’ed,
recharging miles . . .
U giga-bit
encrypted files;
I saved as mine
and cached denials.
In digital
we re-erased,
then Skyped our souls
and interfaced.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
Did I notice little birds early in the morning,
Flying and hopping, chirping and tweeting..
Different families of birds chirping..
Brown, yellow chested, black with long tail and orange beak, house sparrow too,
Hens and cock's crow too...
All are busy talking
Do they ever listen too??
**
As a child I remember,
**
I Came back from school and twittered about my day,
Each evening my family sat around each other,
And all had to speak at once,
None of us there were listeners..
So what one could hear was lots of twitterati..
My mom just said hmm and hmm..
Never really heard my endless stories..
My brother was gem...
He always heard..
Don't know how much.. Though
Each sentence of mine ended
on
.. Is it not bro?... And yes said he always..!
From those carefree twittering to this day,
Life has moved so much..
**
Life always moves, one always grow,
From constant chatter to a deep silence.
And so
**
I wonder do birds ever become silent..
From Cuckoo to Wisdomed Owl
From experienced Eagle to the chirping house sparrow..
Do they too grow silent when old??
The early morning chirping,
Is it from young birds??
Are the old one just saying hmmm
Are they listening ?
Or are they talking?
Ever wondered what happens in birds world??
**
Though nothing much changed now in my house..
**
We still speak at the same time
We hardly have ear for other's stories..
But now we don't speak our heart out..
We are not those chirping type anymore,
We speak about our performance,
We speak about our achievement
We speak about the praises we receive..
We give our Wisdom,
We give our advice..
**
But we hardly speak about ourselves..
**
Sometimes, I still long to be that child again..
Twittering my tongue constantly..
Till my mother yells "Shhh! keep quiet"
And my brother says.. I am listening.. you say..!!!
**
Alas, life moves on, life always make one grow..
**
Sparkle in Wisdom
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
~
Ivory-teal ruffled his parochial feathers
His tongue dipped in languages
He wanted to learn the pronunciation of life
As he folded himself in Egyptian ink
He opened his mind against the dioramic surface of syllables
Painted in alloy; dripping from a papery canvas
He brushed his ivory creme feathers
in crimson and lavender hieroglyphics
Bleeding their pictorial valor inside a golden sepia lantern
"Go on, light the world with your suspense and mystery"
Ivory-teal twittered to himself
Wrapping the bijoux night around his little body
he disappeared into the stars
The teal birthmark on his forehead; glowing
He took the lantern in his gold beak
fluttering away into spirals of smoke
Toward Mythology mountain
Where a storm of butterflies
were winging their seasonal weather
Ivory-teal sometimes wished he could be a candle flame
Flickering in the darkest of moments
Letting the sunshine bleed through his beautiful feathers and soft skin
But his destiny was a bit different
He was folded in cultural prophetic proverbs and
sewed neatly in parabolic traditions
Where nationality is mixed into colorful pixels inside skin
Accents are curved in throats and lilted on the edge of tongues
Ivory-teal was carved in diamond flex dreams
In a temple of mythical patterns
Imprinted in mercury cocoons laminated with knowledge
The Angel Apostles printed him in their book of Dreamtales
Where he became a bilingual silhouette
He was birthed right here on this mountain
As he balanced himself on thoughts
He had learned to love himself to this point of his life
He wanted to be the change he wanted in the world
He gently lifted the little lantern
It rose up toward the sun and exploded into rainbow fireworks
The contexts that were inside split sideways
Tilting and pressing themselves into the air particles
If birds could smile then that would've been Ivory-teal
As he laughed quietly
"Now breathe in earthlings, breath in the wonders and knowledge of life"
He then spread his gorgeous ivory creme wings
tattooed with all the languages of the world and life itself
He twirled into the sunset and bled himself in a cloud
A mountaineer had been watching and wondered to himself
As he unknowingly breathed in the context from Ivory-teal's lantern
"If flying is a language I would love to learn and speak it with my wings"
But shouldn't he know that language already
For it is the language of freedom
Ivory-teal is one of many symbolic accents
Of that beautiful language
~
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
The sun was setting
While I was watching the pond
The cattails danced in the breeze
The call of crickets sounded through the air
Mingling with that of tree toads
Oh the joy of these Summer evenings
I was staring at the mossy floor
Of the pond
Tiny little fishes swam back and forth
Birds twittered
And swallows were flying home
To their nests
Tranquility is all around
Mingling in the coolness
Of the flowing pond
Beauty abounds in the silence
Of the pristine evening
~Marian~
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
I am haunted by iguanas
Crawling though the attics of my dreams
And lately my front teeth
Are growing some kind of orange fur
I worry that ring tailed lemurs
Have stolen my remote control
I'm ridiculed by spider monkeys
Holding my underwear for ransom
My faithful cat ignores my worries
Unless her dish is empty
Now ants seem vaguely threatening
And magpies watch me in the morning
Late at night, I wonder what advice
Kafka or maybe Aristotle could offer
But they've never friended me or twittered.
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 2:46 AM UTC
On a walk companioned by my Muse along the sylvan meadows
We wandered away to delightful realms in unclouded ambience
Don’t know how long I rambled warming my fancies in sunset fires
Must be for long, all lights were out, the quiet hamlet lay bathed in sleep
Above me, stood the starry firmament and the half hidden moon
Could see the vast plains stretching before me in moonlight, bare
My heart was flooded with joy, my fancies took to wings
Got drowned in Nature’s serene calm, my spirit lost in drunken ecstasy
In the gentle blowing breeze, the leaves twittered and murmured
All else was quiet and nothing disturbed the serenity of the night
But soon I knew the East wind strengthening around into a gale
And across the moon I could see stragglers of clouds moving past
I sat on a rock, lost, so lost staring into the clear night sky
Wondering how the celestial joy, made manifest by the twinkling stars
My thoughts began floating like a ship over the briny waters
And my temporal settings faded away like a cloud in the horizon
From the nearby woods, I heard the song of a lone night bird
In rising cadence, alone and aloud it fell on my rapturous ears
Was it a nightingale that poured forth that dewy delight?
Was it the same song, Keats heard long ago cascading from the woods?
With my Muse in this unearthly hour let me sit awhile in this solitary bower
To my paper, let my fancies in unbroken crystal streams flow
Wonder if I can rightly recreate the image that my thoughts enfold
How I wish, I could like Coleridge, build a pleasure dome in mid air!
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
All yesterday it poured, and all night long
I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat
Upon the shingled roof like a weird song,
Upon the grass like running children's feet.
And down the mountains by the dark cloud kissed,
Like a strange shape in filmy veiling dressed,
Slid slowly, silently, the wraith-like mist,
And nestled soft against the earth's wet breast.
But lo, there was a miracle at dawn!
The still air stirred at touch of the faint breeze,
The sun a sheet of gold bequeathed the lawn,
The songsters twittered in the rustling trees.
And all things were transfigured in the day,
But me whom radiant beauty could not move;
For you, more wonderful, were far away,
And I was blind with hunger for your love.
1.9k
THE RIFLE AND THE FLUTE
I took my rifle and l went
to nearby forest birds to hunt.
When l got there, l saw a bird
whose chick fell down through sad event.
The hen was flying with a cane;
it hovered where its chick was thrown.
It urged the chick to perch on it,
but it was too young to have known.
I held the chick and placed in nest,
and its mum set its mind at rest.
It twittered and gave me the cane
and flew to nest with heart so blessed.
I threw my rifle on the ground,
returned with that gift in my hand,
with a happy heart that blessed my act,
and a cane on lips with greatest sound.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
I made a blog that no-one wants to see.
I might as well have stripped and posted ****
I should’ve baked a chocolate cake for tea.
I twittered, face-booked, tumblred, endlessly,
but still it languishes in quietude.
I made a blog that no-one wants to see.
I promised video with poetry;
no cliché, hackneyed rhyme or platitudes.
I should’ve baked a chocolate cake for tea.
My blog is but a trickle in the sea
A place of literary solitude.
I made a blog that no-one wants to see.
I treasured all my followers, all three;
and yet, with heavy heart, I must conclude
I made a blog that no-one wants to see.
I should’ve baked a chocolate cake for tea.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
The injunctions haven't helped, isn't any cure
He's been infected, trapped upon your stalker tour
Forced yourself upon him, claiming him your own
demanding without notice, not leaving him alone
Surprising him at every turn, stalking his house and home
driving him to dire extremes, nowhere that he can roam
Peaking from behind his curtains, knowing, your out there somewhere
the cops tell him, you're harmless, they don't really seem to care
He knows one day he'll waken, find you beneath his sheets
aghast as he's taken, with no time, left to tweet
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 8:13 AM UTC
I was looking up,
gazing up at the stars
from a deep black pit,
almost missing
the rope that came
tumbling into the darkness.
I was startled by the sound
of frayed threads smacking against the wall.
I looked up again,
looking to the top of the hole
but couldn’t make out
the face at the top, silhouetted by the moon.
I wrapped my hands around the rope,
took a deep breath to calm my panicked heartbeat,
and began to climb
out of the maw of darkness.
I climbed up, and up,
my feet slipping on the smooth obsidian walls,
but finally
I reached the top.
I found myself face-to-face
with a pair of eyes, colored like mahogany wood,
like the most decadent chocolate,
and they sat above a sunshine smile that melted away
the icy demons that tried to follow me.
The moon and stars were suddenly swamped
by the bright warmth of the sun,
and color filled the world.
My heartbeat was faster than a mouse’s
as I gazed into those eyes
and I realized
that they belonged to my savior.
I found that I’d lost my voice
after sitting silently in that pit for so long,
so I took my pen from my pocket
and wrote my gratitude on my hand,
“Thank you.”
The smile widened,
and the chocolate eyes were melting in the sunshine,
so beautiful, so captivating.
I suddenly found myself in a warm embrace,
and while I would have normally pulled away,
I stayed in those arms.
I didn’t want to leave,
and I was safe, protected, warm.
I sighed and sank into the warmth,
and my soul suddenly grew,
straining against the cage of my ribs.
I felt the hole in my chest,
I felt it as it was filled,
and then it was empty no more.
The songbirds twittered in my ear,
telling me,
“You found it, you found it! You found the other half of your soul.”
I looked up again,
looked back into those eyes,
and watched the sunshine smile lift again,
provoking a sunbeam to grow on my own lips.
Then the sun rays collided in a kiss,
and a fire sprang to life.
And I knew, I knew
I would never be cold again.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
Enter here
I have been twittered tweeted chat roulette a few
Tumbled flickered facebooked too
Instantagramed even reddit
Haven’t been face to face in months
Human contact
Leaves me here in cyberspace
Leaves me wanting waiting anticipating
A warm whisper
A single finger slowly moving down my arm
A kiss on the forehead
A loving embrace full of passion for me
Smiles with dimples that glow the room like sunlight
Twinkles in the eyes as laughter bubbles beneath the surface
A single sigh of satisfaction but alas
I google yahoo asked and binged
I search for love
Yet
It’s back to the internet
To hide and bide my time.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 6:37 AM UTC
Cyber Kids R Us!
Your Facebook took over my Myspace..
I had to Tag you on my Tagged Place.
Your so Tagged.
I Googled you and was wide eyed to my surprise..
I found you world wide web styled.
I found you had gleefully Twittered beautifully.
I searched you on Instagram.
And like dang Peeps on your page going ham.
And on Skype! Your tag line is so hype.
So your on my laptop. Owwee Bop bop!
I can even touch you on Imvu.
So owee baby @Yahoo..
Let me stop Twittering this thing.
Instagram @ Instagram strings.
Its making me google eyed.
Has my Facebook all hooked.
You have places and video's I ain't even looked.
It's like your my new Candy Crush game.
I'm all lit by your social media fame.
Yet I'm the Unheard girl lame.
But I wanna dine in your Cafe
or play on your Poker holdem staff.
Being your follower is such fun.
Add me to your Snapchat.
I'd be so down with that.
I am so here to Comment you've peeked such interest.
Gosh I made you a collection in my Pinterest.
But its a shame how I over looked your Youtube.
I feel a bit *******
Anywho..
Your such a Gift I need ya to know.
Long as we don't end up on Bill Cunningham show.
we can stay surfing on this web thing anywhere we go.
Oh I'm not a virus...
Just a cyber Kids R Us...
By selinasharday the HeavensRosepoet.
aka Heavens.Ebony.Rose #H.E.R
All rights reserved..S.A.M
if you repost plz post with credits to Author. Me!
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 9:36 AM UTC
though this sounds absurd
I do believe
I'm a bird
as many times
I've twittered a song
whilst perched in a tree
overlooking
a billabong
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
To **** a man
is to flog his hide
if the hide were his brain
and the scars were
meandering
creases littering.
I have heard
the songed bird cry
when the notes were
both hopeful, unafraid
awake
and twittered.
And in the tired
slow gasping release
of moon upon night
overwhelmed by stars
like satellite
transmitters.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
I'm spending so much of my time
Just idling online
Which to some may be fine.
But I just want to punch out my chat
(Gi' it some o' that)
I'm going to save some of my talk
For when I go out for a walk.
Because I might meet a chick
And wouldn't I feel sick
If when I looked, she just Twittered, Facebooked.
So yes I'm going to save very hard
And instead of computing
I shall write my words on a card.
Then if I should make a pass when I do meet a lass
And forget what's being said.
I can pull out the card and read those words instead.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzand sleep.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
She’d gone on her own to the party,
But sadly, for she was alone,
Her partner had left her in limbo,
Had not even said he was going.
A month had gone by, with never a word
And nothing to say why he’d gone,
She looked in the mirror for why she was spurned
But life, as it does, carries on.
Nothing had changed in her that she could see,
She still had her beautiful hair,
Her lips were as full as they ever could be,
Her eyes had that hypnotic stare.
Her figure was slim, and as firm as it was
When her partner decided to leave,
If there was a problem, it had to be him,
Which left her no reason to grieve.
The party she went to was stranger than strange,
With Bogans, Goth make-up and Greens,
She guessed that their ages for most of them ranged
From middle-aged matrons to teens.
A pair of Goth sisters were eyeing her off
And flattering her, to deceive,
‘My, there is a beauty, the best of the lot,
I’d fit her, I think, with a squeeze.’
They twittered and tittered between them, the two,
Whose beauty had long gone to seed,
Whatever they’d had, it was plain that it flew
When excess took over from need.
They fed her with drinks and exotic confects
That she hardly liked to refuse,
Her hold on the present was slight, I reflect,
Her sadness was yesterday’s news.
The ugliest sister, whose name was July,
Rolled in like a mist to her brain,
The cunning of eyes and a whispered surprise
Made her think she was going insane.
She felt herself ebbing, and losing control
As July held her hands in her own,
And then somehow gelling with tissues and cells in
Some fatness that she’d never known.
She watched through a mist as the girl she had been
Laughed loudly, and then turned away,
Embracing the sister, that other unclean,
‘We’ll get you one, some other day!’
Her body felt loose, like an oversize suit
And her lips could but slobber and cry,
‘What have they done to my beautiful youth,’
As she turned to a mirror, to cry.
David Lewis Paget
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
The way opened out
And to get through
A bend was needed
Leaning against twig.
So thoughts gathered
Head strong
Across the empty ditch
The company leaped.
The other side was a purple haze
Drifting about above woods
The tops of the trees twittered
And twinkled and fluttered.
The company entered the woods
Lifting lightly their dress
Surrounded were they by
Bird song and flowers
At their feet.
Love Mary ***
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 9:53 AM UTC
#myskin
#brown
#myblood
#red
#mylife
#twittered
#hashtagged
#andreduced
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
a note of true love
twas twittered by a finch
in the orchard grove
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
last night it was raining all night long
on my shingled roof a staccato song
I could not sleep thru the unceasing beat
pounding at the grass like noisy feet
the dark of night and the clouds kissed
sliding slowly, silently, an opaque mist
like strange wispy shapes barely dressed
nestling into the earth's cool breast
but a miracle greeted me at dawn
the sun's golden sheet covering my lawn
still air stirred with a touch of breeze
while songbirds twittered up in the trees
life was transfigured in the light of day
though you, more wonderful, were far away
I was left unmoved by this beauty above
blind and hungering for your sweet love
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 9:45 AM UTC
I remember that day,
the washing machine in the yard
and the deep blue sky
There may have been a breeze
Me on the grass
and my mother standing there
threading clothes through the ringer,
and bleach
And there must have been a yellow bird
Who, flying by, twittered:
“All the pain you will ever feel,
And fear,
Even standing by the road,
Watching headlights come closer
Despair as each drives by
The heartache of your son struggling to get the water right
And all the Joy;
a family, singing in the meadow
Of love,
a cotton dress and brown eyes,
Of salvation,
kneeling at the folding chair,
All these were you,
trying to get back,
here...
to this morning,
in the grass
by the washing machine
May
1953”
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 4:31 PM UTC
#*Candy floss clouds merrily
Twirled in the clear blue sky
The sun knew its rays were best dressed,
golden yellow
Beneath
Above the trees, flew some birds
They chirped twittered and whistled
To each their own
As luxuriant flower beds
Welcomed, fluttering butterflies*#
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 2:30 PM UTC