"unlawful" poems
Let us not
Sit behind our stares any longer
The watch
Is moving
Why don’t we
Love’s paralysis
Is stronger
Than I expected
Shall it be
A falsehood
Of my misunderstanding
Or am I
Still
Standing here for a reason
Leaving
Chance to do my bidding
Abiding
By the construed rules
Of attraction
As I pause at awe
Awfully beautiful
An unlawful marriage of the minds
My unknowing bride
Lies in front of me
My truths lay juxtaposed
In the background
Just a pose
On one knee
Proposing to
My wife to be
Ha!
My imagination
Get’s the best of me
You still
Don’t know
My name
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:43 AM UTC
Briskly walking with his head *****
Money and treasure, he aims to get
He is in a stampede, chasing wealth
Acute shortage of ‘humility and gratitude’
Compels him to slaughter a multitude
The desire for more than enough
It has crystallized and made his heart tough
Oblivious about ‘humility and gratitude’
Man agrees to squash the destitute
Unaware, that he may face the same fate
Even then he piles up his plate
When would he be humble and grateful?
For the things which make his life blissful…
Even while swallowing all that is unlawful
He persistently denies being shameful
His conscience reminds him of ‘humility and gratitude’
But he refuses to change his haughty attitude
Let me remind you that life is temporary
Nothing in this world remains stationary
Just like dust your stay is transitory
These two traits, ‘humility and gratitude’
Can help you to acquire beatitude
Don’t forget your final abode
Where good deeds won’t be sold
Remember, the fables of the brave and the bold
All of them possessed ‘humility and gratitude’
From all this, you may conclude
It is the purity of our intentions
What Creator expects from his creation
Everything else is mere illusion
Being a human, demands ‘humility and gratitude’
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 7:27 AM UTC
Allah was his ears
As sounds unlawful, unethical it never heard.
Secrets, gossips and rumours were also barred.
It buzzed with words of Quran day and night
Always Open to sounds just and upright.
Allah was his eyes
As it looked parents, orphans and needy with love
Brimmed with tears thinking of Almighty above
It never despised his brother and from lust it was freed.
Gold and silver had no worth and had no signs of greed.
Allah was his hands
As it stopped things reprehensible with force
In Allah's cause spent abundantly his resource
It caressed the head of an orphan in affection.
Time and again meekly raised it in supplication.
Allah was his feet
As it never moved towards things which Allah hate
Avoided walking arrogantly with a strutting gait
It always ran to help downtrodden, oppressed.
For knowledge for light it was on constant quest.
He had mountains of obligatory good deeds
He had mountains of non-obligatory good deeds
His protector was Allah The Almighty
His enemy was enemy of Allah The Almighty
He was beloved of Allah
He was friend of Allah
He was Wali of Allah
He was Waliullah.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
Quack Doctor
Fake Supervisor
Bogus Professor
Deceitful Color
Common Denominator.
Bomb Inventor
Rifle Creator
Device Innovator
Reigning Terror
Common Denominator.
Untruthful Suitor
Promiscuous Actor
Love Collector
Artificial Amour
Common Denominator.
Abusive Creditor
Illegal Investor
Unlawful Director
Greed Factor
Common Denominator.
Rogue Investigator
Friendly Assassinator
Double Conspirator
Backstab Traitor
Common Denominator.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
I live in the land
Of the inbetweeners.
We are what
The French would call,
Bourgeoisie.
What the ghetto calls,
Bougie.
What the successful calls,
Day dreamers,
And what we call,
The future leaders.
I live in
The land of rebels.
The people who fought against their oppressors
Because they know the truth behind
Social Darwinism;
And the fact of the matter is
That no race
Is a superior race
Because "race"
Is a manmade idea
To justify the injust
Ideas of slavery.
The rebels who ran out of chains
Because they weren't
Supposed to be chained down.
The rebels who walked midnight railroads
To escape the clutches
Of the white man's burden.
The rebels who refused to stand
In one spot
When there were plenty of seats available.
The rebels who refused
to bite their tongues and
The rebels who refused to be spoken over
Because they had
A lot of important stuff to say.
The rebels who dreamt outrageous dreams,
So that the complexion
Of your pigment
Was never a deciding factor
In your life.
The rebels who refused
to follow unlawful laws
Because they were
Law abiding citizens
Only when laws were just.
The rebels who challenged what was superiority,
The rebels who changed the course of history forever.
I live in
The land of the outsiders
Who conform the
Preconceived ideas
To fit them
We roll small blunts
of white paper
Filled with the words
of novels and poetry
And blow through those books
Inhaling every letter
And letting it cling to our lungs
Flowing the grammar
Throughout our bodies.
We stand spittin
Absolute value bars
Rapping elongated equations
Of X equals
Y +/- root Z
Divided by root A
Times the quantity of
B - C.
We stick up
Banks filled with
Material and instruction.
Stealing all the information we can take
And try peicing it together
So that more than words
We have knowledge.
We **********
Our brains,
Pleasing its sapiosexual
******* with
Grammar and arithmetic.
I live in the land
Of the inbetweeners.
The people making history
In their everyday lives.
The revolutionaries
Who fight for even
The smallest of issues.
The individuals who stand out
Amongst a crowd of people
That look just like them.
The inbetweeners,
They who refuse
To subjugate themselves
To society,
But will subjugate society
To themselves.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Seductive being.
You have captured my eyes.
Blown away by an angel.
Tricked by diguise.
I'm lead astray by this angel.
The way she courses with grace.
So I follow the shadow.
Fooled by the veil on her face.
I have commited a crime.
I have visualized this affair.
Acknowledging this moment.
This innocent state of mind.
I admitt that this diversion.
Has corrupted me inside.
Leaving me empty.
Leaving me alive.
I'm drawn by her beauty.
Harmonizing her rythm.
While she harmonizes with mine.
Concious of this unlawful act.
Acheiving the impossible.
Acheiving this lie.
Aug 5, 2010
Aug 5, 2010 at 9:40 PM UTC
Behind the house with the fragmented windows
and the corroded pipes
and the cobwebs and ages under the stairs,
she buried herself
under the earth and grime
until the roots contained her decayed soul
and encased around her brittle scarred limbs.
Until the dirt crept down her windpipes,
until her tarnished lungs were suffused
with ashes and dirt.
Until roots replaced her veins and
smothered her cracked ribcage.
Behind the house with the fragmented windows,
under the grass and gravel,
that was rougher than
her mother’s dispirited retorts,
where she once capered and skipped, and never thought
would become her grave.
By the ethereal creatures she played with
in her younger and more susceptible years.
Dig up her bones but leave her soul.
Who would ever want cruel contaminated beauty
as a periphery for such a fouled soul?
It was when she stopped falling asleep on the way home,
when her nightlight ceased to make her feel safe,
when a lover’s unlawful kisses replaced her family’s amity,
when a lover’s lethal passion parted her lethal loneliness,
when home became a person and not a place,
was when she buried herself
behind the house with the fragmented windows.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
How things started to be unfair
This isn't a complaint,grievance nor grumble
This is the voices of people whose hearts
are crumbled.
How things started to be unfair,
where looks are preferred while hearts are ignored.
Money took over when capability was before.
How things started to be unfair,
where society started to judge
with grudge
without thinking how those hearts feel.
How things started to be unfair,
when the unlawful lawful
the lawful is banned.
How things started to be unfair
a.b
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
who the **** are you to say
what information the Government gets
at the detriment of mankind anyway?
Have you forgotten the Bill of Rights?
The 'inalienable' rights we all have?
Do they even ******* matter?
Do they even ******* exist?
I guess not.
What the **** are they doing
pressing this CISPA ********
Unlawful search and seizure of digital information
and they don't even care for warrants.
Under the guise of National Security
you'd have us all put in Camps or killed
just like we did to the Japanese all those years ago
but we've moved past that... right? Right?
I guess not.
We just keep it all more secretive now:
The people didn't stand for SOPA
and surely not for the NDAA
so what the **** gives you the idea
CISPA will fly, anyway?
Maybe if no one heard about it, it would work...
Maybe that's what you were counting on.
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
who the **** are you to say
what information the Government gets
at the detriment of mankind anyway?
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
along with your constituents.
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
and your endorsements.
The Fourth Amendment requires due process
precluding unjust search and seizure;
but where the **** is due process or justice
in this proposed search at leisure?
You pass new legislation that augments old laws,
so much that they don't even need probable cause,
but not new rights nor protections for the citizenry,
not surprising given your abhorrent deontology:
You'd sooner send drones than diplomats.
You'd sooner stage attacks than be peaceful.
You'd sooner bail out banks than your citizens.
You'd sooner pass a law than change your ******* underwear.
What the **** gives you an inkling of the notion
that a beloved sociopath Politician
deserves your ******* devotion
if they pull this sort of ethical rescission?
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
who the **** are you to say
what information the Government gets
at the detriment of mankind anyway?
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
along with your constituents.
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
and your endorsements.
**** me, Mr. Politician Man,
like you already do behind closed doors.
**** me, Mr. Politician Man
for ever trusting this accursed system.
Well, who the **** are you
trusted making legislation,
you can't even overcome
******* monetary gravitation.
Well, excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
you want the People to become transparent?
Well **** you then, Mr. Politician Man
we want transparency of Government:
I'm sick of not knowing where Tax dollars go,
I'm sick of knowing over a quarter goes to the Military
which is funny in a deeply ****** up way
because I know I may help pay for
the drone that might fly overhead and see me and my friends as insurgents
and launch an IR missile to blow us to bits,
or the bullet that may be sent through my brain
as a distant if more probable than ever result
of your ******* legislation:
And so I say:
**** you, Mr. Politician Man,
along with your constituents
for making this a feasibility;
you're supposed to serve the people
but you'd rather put the U.S. in a state of futility.
So,
on behalf of all those you alienate each day,
I wish to extend to you a humble and heartfelt
Go **** yourself.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
Often, we men take for granted,
That you've simply performed an edict of biologic cyclical reproduction.
And not wonder of the incredible largesse that has befallen us.
I am so profoundly transformed by the beauty of your love and your unselfishness.
Though we men oft complain of the seemingly irrelative by-products of this process we go through,
None can compare to the bloating, frequent urination, nausea, emotional turmoil,
Weight gain, wacky food choices, back pain, impatience, depression, negative self-image,
Waddle walk, belly steering wheel dilemma, inability to tie your shoes, hunger,
Relationship insecurity, cornucopiate vomitus, skinny lady envy, clothes no longer fit-itis,
Swelling ankles, chocolate cravings, diarrhea, headaches, pelvic pain, stretch marks, and what should be unlawful super odorous flatulence.
What you've done for us in the space and time of nine months
Is nothing short of the joyous miracle God has bestowed upon us.
I am awestruck that the place I pleasure in most for its tightness and firmness,
Was stretched beyond the limits of what I fear I will never be able to compete with.
I love you as no other man has loved any other woman,
My heart's eyes swell with tears, as it can not express or contain this overwhelming feeling.
For the love I see in their eyes, the endearment I feel when they utter my name(Dad!)
The gift of our three children, aside from the love of my God, and the fascinating adventure of our wedding and marriage, will never be superseded by any other joy; and for which I am forever truly and entirely grateful...!!!
-----ChawzzyScript
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
Just what do we know about
Ward Churchill?
That radical agitator,
That Colorado college professor
Most famous for calling
Twin Tower 9/11 dead technocrats
Little Eichmanns.
Noteworthy is the fact that
The United States Supreme Court
Denied certiorari,
Passed on hearing his claim of
Unlawful discharge.
Unlawful discharge?
Sounds felonious and vile:
Like pus laced with *****
A criminal secretion, like mucus
Smuggled past Customs:
Vaginal contraband.
Sorry, Ward.
We just don’t give a ****
Your fake Indian pedigree,
Your bogus Vietnam fairytales,
Your phony combat record,
Your forward ops recon
Way out in ******* Cambodia,
Fall flat like Buffalo turds.
You’ve been slick, Ward.
Hired originally to fill
Some gratuitous affirmative action quota,
Denied tenure in two legitimate departments,
You create some ******** academic discipline
For campus freaks & geeks.
Self-appointed Department Chairman,
A fraudulent college professor from the start,
Once tenured, a courageous warrior for free speech.
Describing Native American history as genocide.
Summing up American history as Holocaust denial.
Professor Churchill was all of these things,
And less.
But using the Holocaust metaphor
To anchor one’s fakakta politics?
That was the proverbial last straw,
The camel buster, if you will.
Especially since most of the
Stockbrokers & market analysts
Crushed in the rubble were Jewish.
Hava Nagila, Babaloo!
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
You asked me what it was I ever saw in him,
Over half eaten lunch and cups stained with coffee
And I said I saw everything in him that I couldn’t see in me.
I saw life
And excitement
And beauty.
You told me I deserved better,
That you’d only ever come to our wedding for the free cake.
And the alcohol,
For the company of me but not my husband.
I told you not to worry.
He will always be my unlawful better half.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 1:03 PM UTC
Harsh cold winds race down ***** back alleys
Bin lids are lifted and all taking flight
Ragged town foxes, heads inside dustbins
Cries of sheer anguish and they take off in fright.
Cold stillborn baby found in a dustbin
Wrapped up in bin bags and filthy soaked towel
A bitter result of unlawful liaison
Another young girl has been treated so foul.
Search is now on to find the sad mother
Everyone knows that she will be ill
Soon she is found with wrists that are bright red
Only fourteen, lying perfectly still.
Another statistic of society’s indifference
As always lip service just isn’t enough
And still the harsh wind blows down ***** back alleys
Where young children find on the street, life is tough.
©Joe Wilson – Another sad statistic…2015
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
The Acolytes come marching in and out and in, out again
Minds befuddles, rationalities amissing, fully indoctrinated
Pathetic Dogs of Attrition dressed all in white, all in pain
Compulsive obsessives, neurotics primed and oxygenated
Scrappers at the bottom of the barrel wants unlawful gain
By hook or crook is their recourse, to that they are mandated
From rhetorics long gone and ideologies forged in days of rain
Our intrepid Confused and Acolytes are soundly medicated
Just march to left, left, left, left and we will ease all your pain
Recognize that the enemies are those that think and are educated
They all claim domain at the top, with kudos, status and fame
While you languish in closed barrels, your poor lives truncated
Those Bosses are all there because they are all Masonic inclined
Doctors, lawyers and Professionals paid cash for Degrees granted
They did no work or study, rich Daddies just paid so they claim
All those Entrepreneurs are Robbers who bankraid unarrested
Because the Police are all masonic and help/share in all the gain
The Royals are Top Mafiosas, with International links atested
So Dumb Acolytes Know the truths and fall with the wise in line
We must regain Power and march left, left so we're not left in vain
The republic shall live because it's 21 Century and we wake in time
We take all from the Secret Society and cut off all our iron chains
Begin by taunting, tormenting and harassing that ****** Wayne
The ****** Prince is the African Mafia Chief and Exploiter kingpin
Sing with me everybody
Viva la Revolution, viva la Revolution
We are clever, all in our White uniforms
We march to the left left left with our two left feet
We know our brains have left us but we go left left
Viva la Revolution, Viva la Revolution, Viva la Jinbba.
Hey! jinbba, jinbaba, hey! jinbba jinbaba, hey! jinbba jinbba
Sing.........
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
The only legacy of maturity is insensitivity
I will die old will think nothing of it.
The young tend sodium springs
All the while watched by the barren.
Muted observers to life labours conceiving gasp
Unwilling to interpret.
Bald cries to heaven go souls dug with grapples stuck.
Silence takes precedence in the right seat
Unlawful is the wrong
Red is the left
Old knows all is dark.
We run water to rid false colour
Run it until we are dry
Run it until we are black.
Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 9:00 AM UTC
Do they see that she is barley holding ground
Desperately holding to the bars, putting on the strong face
But she really just wants to cry out loud
She has tired for three years
trying to be cal, trying to be brave
all the while holding back the tears
She can't hold on much longer
and it pains me that they don't see
The talk and act as if she dont mind
But they cant be any wronger
Do they see the blacked covered eyes
streaked with eyeliner once she finished
crying on my shoulder
Do they see that all the hurt all their lies
causes me to hate them as if they insulted me with ******
Do they see that it's stupid, dumb and awful
to cause anyone to feel this way
Do they see that it's stupid, dumb, and unlawful
to cause anyone this pain
But i guess the don't see
and carry on like nothing is wrong
leaving her with the question
Do they see?
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
this is my promise, my fear I will reveal
the act of love and *** alike is agony, I will conceal
no man, no woman, no soul I have made assurance
my dwelling and trembling sexuality and love have remained a horrible occurance
I want to love and kiss my love from mouth down to the waist
but years of loneliness and drunken embrace leaves me with limited taste
to glide my body across his sweaty chest
would rid me of my nervous mindset and lay my fear to rest
yet no man, no woman, no soul I have encountered with true admiration
this spirit I bare and have grown to like is stuck with a fierce aspiration
to **** this silly contemplation of whether to step forward or keep quiet
not allowing myself dual satisfaction for I mindlessly follow an unlawful diet.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
I am a muslim, a name familiar but for wrong reason.,
An identity misunderstood very often.,
I am not a muslim just by name or birth; But to the will of my creator, I bowed in complete submission.,
Hearing me say, some curl their lips in disdain and some give terrified expression.,
Terrorist/extremist/fanatic/radical muslim are the different titles I am given; But to which I have neither close or distant relation.,
I am proud to be a muslim for it transformed me into a better human .,
From all forms of alcohol/tobacco/ drugs my tastebuds refrain.,
From looking at any obscene things my eyes abstain.,
My heart restrain from every shameful desire or unlawful relation.,
My body desists from doing any immodest/immoral action.,
My tongue holds back from saying harmful/hurtful/ disrespectful/disgraceful words to any fellow man.,
My mind sees no disparity or discrimination.,
For no man is superior over the other either by wealth, caste, colour, region or religion.,
To be just and honest, I try my best.,
" Who ever kills an innocent man is as though he killed the whole of mankind"; My creator's warning is engraved in my mind.,
I dare not disobey any of his commandment.,
I am his weak slave just striving to be obedient.,
I submit to the will of Lord of universe, the exalted, the merciful and the most magnificent.,
Call me by any name; I shall remain a Muslim.,
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 6:49 AM UTC
It’s Springtime.
The hours, the days pass quicker,
especially to folks already in their
late seventies, or eighties…
a cool breeze blowing easily brings
back good times, bringing smiles
to their wrinkled faces...to some,
rage and sorrow are resurrected,
recalling, how they lost loved ones,
all that they've had, through ways
unlawful, how they pined for truth,
justice, and freedom...time is too
slow for for them...some choose
to forget, but couldn't...
malfeasance is a habit, a way of life.
The privileged ones bask in the
brightest of comforts…impregnable
walls of their fortresses have made
them blind and deaf to the woes
and the doldrums outside.
The "unsolved" remain unsolved,
the "miserable" are now despondent,
the needy, the hungry, in greater
need...are even hungrier...drifting,
wherever their needs take them,
some minds have gotten used to
distorted versions of democracy,
existing on uncertain airs and waters.
Being bereft.......takes its toll.
Past awakenings were wasted.
eyes...minds opened, and closed.
those outside the walls, patiently
await...nothing is ever permanent.
sally b
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 18, 2023
-<O>-
OZYMANDIAS
(Percy Bysshe Shelley)
I met a traveller from an antique land,
2Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
3Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
4Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
5And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
6Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
7Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
8The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
9And on the pedestal, these words appear:
10My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
11Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
12Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
13Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
14The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Mar 14, 2023
Mar 14, 2023 at 8:41 PM UTC
Mankind destroyeth another
Predicted long ago;
Mankind killeth sister and brother
Predicted long ago;
Mankind plundereth the earth
Predicted long ago;
Mankind eliminates the newborn
Stained blood upon church snow;
Mankind terminates with weapon's
Predicted long ago;
Mankind to God they get angry and question
Predicted long ago;
Mankind escapeth with addiction
Predicted long ago;
Truth bringer's sit in prison
Predicted long ago;
Politicians ****** with unlawful invention's
Predicted long ago;
Immoral parading of falsehood
Predicted long ago;
Thugs and dope in the neighborhood's
Predicted long ago;
Earthquake's in diverse places
Predicted long ago;
Mankind changing natural faces
Predicted long ago;
Mankind of their father the devil
Predicted long ago;
Mankind worshipping hell's level
Predicted long ago;
War's and rumour's of war
Predicted long ago;
Syria turning to a ruinous heap
Predicted Isaiah 17:1,
For thou whom don't know.
Murderer's stealeth for keep's
Predicted long ago;
Beast's dressing up as sheep
Predicted long ago;
Hatred from their bellies
They get hired on whom they know.
Dollar bills come to naught
Whilst debt in every abode grows.
Unorthodox affection's
Like bloomed flower's show.
Sign's in the sun and moon
Predicted long ago;
Prophet's telleth truth beyond the tomb
Predicted long ago;
The world is in chaos
Predicted long ago;
Iran joining with Russia
Predicted long ago;
China practicing for war games
Predicted long ago;
Revelation 9:16, nuclear bang,
An Oriental blow;
A false prophet to bring religion's together
Predicted long ago;
With the Antichrist as his helper
Predicted long ago;
Underground shelter's
Where rich men hide their woes.
Whilst some prediction's hath happened already
Predicted long ago;
More art being fulfilled
Predicted long ago;
More to cometh
Predicted long ago;
Soon Christ's light shalt shineth
Predicted long ago;
Every man to bow their feature's
Predicted long ago;
King of king, lord of Lord's
Whom many hath rejected before all they know.
Broken glass in blown out stores
Predicted long ago;
A disappearance of many Christian's(rapture)
Predicted long ago;
World war three
At the step's of thou
And me;
Predicted long ago.......
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophecy
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
Back-stabber count your silver coins,
all thirty pieces do enjoy.
For thou have torn it from the ****
of he whom thou deem to destroy.
Conveyed before said holy male
who fears to take decision home.
Responsibility he doth bale,
forth-giving this to man of Rome.
Upon to Pilate do I see.
Should I relinquish my belief?
Will mine own peoples see me free
instead of murderer or thief?
In my defence nought do I speak
to only God do I ask praise.
Forgive me not for thou art week
and power to thee is but a phase.
Upon mine head a crown of thorns
secured firmly into place
as harassed by unfriendly scorn.
Holy blood, bathes holy face.
Barbs of metal scourge my all,
unlawful hurt do I withstand.
Burdened with weight I make a fall.
Samaritan doth lend a hand.
Rods of steel fix flesh and bone
to that of mans' wooden *****
In painful agony, though not alone,
with Holy Father I connect.
Hoisted aloft on knoll of high.
Visible means to fear their weight.
Drawn upright, that I may die.
Design to clear of human slate.
Soon this pain will free of me.
My passing so that they may live.
Exalted father thou can see
this son gives all a son can give.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Confined to this cell that's
filled with everything and everyone
that I have ever known;
How did I get stuck here?
Memories play like films in
this oubliette that is my brain.
**** they're torturing me,
and my distress is apparent.
My internal screams are inaudible,
but I swear I'm calling out.
These shadows in my cell shriek
to me from the darkness; I surrender.
This persecution is unlawful. I have
done nothing to deserve such agony.
Solitary confinement is leading me to madness,
but madness feels like home to me.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
A reflection on birthdays, friends departing this world, and surveying ones life
~~~
this one poem is not lurking,(1)
turmoiled bursting,
shaking, quaking,
release aching
write it in droplets,
my chest speak squeaks,
each thought, a stanza,
each moment, a bonanza
of the doled, muddled mix
of tremblings on this my extravaganza,
renaissance day of birth
upon this earth
sixty five calendars,
this space,
so gulf and so narrow, (2)
for what profit this man
for himself, others?
a Judgement Day of sorts,
where the man~poet is efficiently
prosecutor, defender,
judge and jury,
as is he not,
his one true
peer?
let his biases be betrayed,
his fault lines be paraded,
let his deeds be the unlawful legal coda
by which he is remanded
if found guilty of a ledger imbalanced,
more sins than glory,
only one sentence permitted,
life imprisonment
even the NYC weather
clued in and deity cooperative,
wakes me up to this advisory:
Overcast.
Slight chance of a rain shower.
High near 65F.
High near 65.
what portent this oracle,
a warning guide to this morass
of a contradictory, crevassed man
full of mea culpa poetic messes,
his old is his high...
or are these just winking,
birthday instructions from
an observer on high?
this space of years, this life,
so gulf and so narrow,
engulfed, yet so sparse is his barrow,
his first minutes of the day
a lean inventory taking,
for better or worse
as he overcasts a full review,
plus a bonus (!)
a forward progress prognosis
there is a fresh formed
Cain mileage marker upon his brow,
a check-mark scar,
resultant of his self-checkup
upon the tree rings of his tiring body
weeping only because a mistrial is declared
and no verdict returned
and he rises for coffee,
promising himself someday an honest resolution
before...
these the acts of
sixty five calendars,
of this, his-space,
so gulf and so narrow,
subjected to a now daily interrogatory:
*for what profit this man,
his actions, his loved words,
for himself, to others,
to this world?*
October 1, 2015
~~~
(1)
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1417203/there-is-a-poem-lurking/
~~~
(2)
*but I can't stop
for each hour of the last 72
has witnessed a new poem
in-between
minute one and minute sixty five
written for you,
writing for life,
writing of this moment,*
this space so gulf and so narrow
*in and between
the unity of
us*
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1413760/for-ernesto-l-gonzales-aka-the-dedpoet-the-in-between/
~~~
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
Death stole a soul from its earthly place no other can fill the empty place for thirty years each one gave
A little and then a little more in time mathematics over ruled and was disallowed two became one. The heart
Of love ever watchful try as you may the bond unseen unshakeable unbreakable this spouse this was the
Only house my soul has found unending rest within these walls our ease measureless as infinity. We can
Search earth and universe but not one glimpse, it was one of a kind just one face.
Commitments watchful eye never allowed disorder steal away even while surrounded by friends these
Eyes fixed to yours through them pour each moment love’s torrent we go to distant habitations passing
On always to carefree laughter oh this stronghold our union has made only lions know these privileged
Paths we walk together hand in hand a man and a woman who tasted fruit as it had to be back in Eden
Purest delight no dark turning only the light drenching quenching every longing.
Time was the banner unfurled our covering protecting shield over head rain and sun deflected as we
Strolled past ruins of former days then it spoke softly of permanent connections that always flowed into
Promise filled tomorrows to soon it would speak of unbearable sorrow. The one would be left only as a
Half plunged from brightest light into darkest gloom, people still stir and go about their business I walk
By them they are whole while I walk in half light and I am blinded and confused once everything made
Sense. Now only senseless starved for a single meaning anything to stop the pain.
Moving forward is the only constant it leads to only more desperate pleadings that go unheard through
Black and twisted dead wasteland I feebly stumble I see you momentarily only to have you vanish if only
I could pass into the forgotten world where memories were unlawful and strictly enforced but then I
would lose you again no soul could survive that torment. Though tears flow unbidden in them you are
Alive they hold within their fiery drops the unquestionable hope of that eternal tomorrow.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC