I enjoy a wild wit, words well at play
Second guessing what a person did say
A well-placed pun lifts the heaviest day
Double entendres while away the day
Innuendos of course come out to play
Expressions telling more than what they say
“I never know what you’re going to say!”
Will bring forth a smile to me any day
My mind’s a thesaurus at constant play
Witty words at play, I say, make my day
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For while she weeps,
Sorrow keeps as
pain sweeps her heart.
Torn apart as
it thwarts the chance
to romance the
soul’s dance that’s stilled.
Passions killed by
tears spilled in ache.
Spirit breaks. It’s
a snake that crawls,
As it sprawls there
then squalls and rails
driving nails, it
assails heart’s halls.
But it falls hard
Soon all hurts slow.
Pain will go, and
she’ll know – she’s free.
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This is a Than Bauk form.
The Than-Bauk is a three line “climbing rhyme” poem of Burmese origin. Conventionally a witty saying or epigram, it’s even shorter than a haiku, but a lot more structured. Each Than-Bauk is three lines of four syllables each with the rhyme on the fourth, third and second syllables of each line respectively.
| O. O. O. a. O. O. a. O. O. a. O. O. |
Than-Bauks can be chained together to form a longer poem where the last syllable of the third line starts the rhyme of the next…
| O. O. O. a. O. O. a. O. O. a. O. b. O. O. b. O. O. b. O. c. O. O. c. O. O. c. O. etc. |
or you can “staircase” them…
| O. O. O. a. O. O. a. O. O. a. O. b. O. O. O. b. O. O. O. c. |
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There was a lord; a man of kindness, of light
After years of service had put down his blade
Known far and wide for his fairness and insight
Though tales of his past battles are lore still oft’ spun
He now lives life with wife and sons, a man genteel
His locks are fair, nearly white though he is still young
Of course there are the ones in life who will harbor ill
The major flaw in things seemingly perfect
A hate grows unchecked for this lord’s blood to spill
Clothed in acts of friendship a darkness they bring
Vile thought became vile deeds slowly put in motion
The first step – smooth as silk, the loss of a ring
Little thought is given, such things occur in a life
Until said ring implicates him in the murders
Of his most precious, his own sons and wife
Still in control, he senses the hand of evil’s spark
As those who try to champion him fall one by one
Some say his clothing was the first to turn dark
Determined on his own, to prove his innocence
He becomes a fugitive slowly alienating all
No longer wanting others death in his defense
Though he never draws on those who doesn’t draw first
The kills mount in the search to clear his name
His quest slowly becoming a mission of blood thirst
As a crimson heat of hate spawns from rancor’s seed
They say the light in his eyes were next to grow dark
For black are his thoughts, oh black they are indeed
The path to truth has taken him past a point that can be undone
And the causes of such, now have great fear of their dark creation
As those of schadenfreude dwindle down to the first – now last one
His life, once a heaven most people only dream about,
Was one he had never given much of a second thought
But his dark soul exists in hell now, of this he has no doubt
Somewhere in the distance a church sounds a midnight chime
A hope of forgiveness flares briefly but is quickly stamped out
Former allies now foes come face to face for the last time
The reasons for the start of this are lost as final justice come due
Down to the dark strands that were once his locks so fair
The once lord of light’s heart has turned to one of the darkest hue
It’s the price for his sins, to be paid of their own accord
The final flame of pure hate, extinguishes the last light of his soul
”One way or another this ends” he snarls drawing first his sword
<>==========<>=========<>
So just, come to me, for anything at all,
Call my name, it is yours to call.
Feel my faith in you, when you can’t find your own,
And always remember, you’re never alone
Freddy Jackson featuring Najee / All I’ll Ever Ask
Yes, sing My praises in hymns when times are good
But it’s the hard times where faith is truly understood
When you’ve had a brush with life’s shortfalls
Some offer prayer, every chance they could
Others are too afraid when they know they should
For all succumb to the curve of life’s pitfalls
So, whether you scream for My name out loud
Or kneel to Me in the quiet, anything but proud
It’s never too late to rise from a downfall
So just, come to Me, for anything at all
Reach out for Me, just reach out with upturned hands
I know the forces don’t always let things go as planned
And be not ashamed if you’ve never before prayed at all
Come to Me now, come to Me, I will understand
Remember it is My footprints that are seen in the sand
When the die lie still and you’re pressed against the wall
When you fear you have finally lost it all indeed
A simple prayer is the liaise to all you need
And never feel any request is too great or too small
Just call My name, it is yours to call
When your skies shift from watchet to gray
And a torrent of troubles come your way
For you’re worn, you’re tired – weary to the bone
When you feel you’ll never, have a say
In all the cruel games that life can play
When the darkness invokes your heart to moan
When you’re convinced without a doubt
That your end seems like the only way out
In the times when it feels your faith has flown
Feel My faith in you, when you can’t find your own
“In the beginning…” starts The Word’s first page
“…Christ be with you all. Amen” marks the final stage
From the first fillip of light I’ve ever shone
That setup the first of a Seven-Day age
Words that still have the power to assuage
Words that can inspire, words that help to atone
On those days, when you’re lost as what to do
Remember “These sayings are faithful and true.”
My love is reaped in reward as all love sown
And always remember, you’re never alone
<>==========<>==========<>
Johnny pumps sprinkle water on the kids in its midst
A modern city’s version of a provincial mist
The drifting mist calls, but I somehow resist
Knowing wet clothes aren’t high on my boss’ list
From blocks away I can see the asphalt steam
Summer in the city makes me want to scream
Summer sun blazes down on the street
Feels like my soles are melting off my feet
It’s just 8 AM and I’m sweating from the heat
I’ve got a long day to go and already feeling beat
The humidity making it all the more extreme
Summer in the city makes me want to scream
Perfectly pressed suit of the business woman
Perfectly squashed in the subway sardine can
Hotter than the devil’s cooking pan
Even in the shade I’m catching a tan
Skin feels like jelly oozing through my seam
Summer in the city makes me want to scream
Sweat drips and I can feel the drop of each
Fall to places my fingers simply just can’t reach
Another working Jane, dodging taxi tires’ screech
Adamantly not losing my manners with my speech
The horns, the haze, the heat, it all seems
Summer in the city makes me want to scream
<>==========<>==========<>
Knowing you would be there for me
I laughed at your loving transgress
The proud boasting soliloquy
Of forever you would profess
Too long it took me to assess
All I feel now with abundance
And words I’m ready to express
Now fall on your heart of silence
<>==========<>==========<>
I wish I was with you.
As full as the moon above,
is my heart’s frustration
I want to be skin to skin.
Within your arms of love,
emptied of my desperation
Freed from the regret.
Sometimes harsh, sometimes sublime,
drifting between then and now
Time I know I shall never see
To meet again as if for the first time,
someday, somewhere, somehow
But I lay alone in my darkness.
Dreaming it’s your warmth I feel
as I tightly grasp my pillow
Desperate for your touch
Pretend that the wind’s gentle appeal,
is a sensual kiss you blow
Looking into Luna’s face instead.
I pretend my moon is the same
as the one that rides across your night
Just as strong, just as fragile.
As the eggshell syllables of your name
I whisper to the ghost of you in the moonlight
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dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 57
From the cerulean
Gold falls
And ocher vales
Crimson plummets
In violet frenzy
Solemnly descending
To the depths
The nadir
Of night’s indigo
Reaching out
The vast emptiness
Bitter reminder
Of what was
Once again
Finding it fitting
My heart
As deeply plunged
Into azure
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dVerse Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar – Impressionistic Writing
i watch as the world dresses in hues
of goldenrod, carnelian and fawn
shades of reality harden with dollar wine blues
then again, maybe it’s the sixth beer i’m on
refusing to believe the revolution, its been 365 tonight
the encore of champagne promises spilled among burned biscuits
and buns hard enough to make martha stewart cry outright
as i drained bottles and tears over the possible end of us
thrown off kilter i pleaded give me time, you gave me until fall
and seasons of dancing pixies floated atop my vodka on the rocks
waiting for the warm liqueurs to answer the call
but eyes glazed, would i have known if opportunity even knocks
my friend bill w knocked several times but i turned my face
thinking i still had time for you and him after my next beer
i never noticed as i fell from all my close friends grace
i had new friends in a variety of bottles colored and clear
straight faced i refresh my promises
to sailing sober no matter what it took
charm bought time with the doubting thomas’
but it wasn’t a trip I was ready to book
a year of a thousand little cases of dying
slipped by without fulfilling even a shadow of your desires
it’s once again smoldering in fall flair and i’m trying
but all i can smell is the burnt rubber of departing tires
class is over, but for me the lessons yet begun
it took two for conversation to engage
but the play had reached the end of its run
and you, the main thespian had left the stage
the job, the flat, the wheels left too, but still life’s sweet
with a flourish take a sip to autumn in the park
lying on the grass stretching out my feet
and take another sip to life in the growing dark
i note that dry leaves make fantastic kindling
thinking maybe i should extinguish the flame
my mind drunk in suicidal spindling
but i swear dropping the cigarette is not the same
damn i don’t know, did you kiss me goodbye
would i have even noticed after all
my ocean of tears can’t make inflamed kindling dry
i never did recover from the wagon’s fall
====================
Hyde Park – Thursday Poets Rally – Week 70
Hyde Park Purfact Poet at Rally – Week 70 – The Fall
I accept the award and nominate – Bohdirose
No one but me can save myself, but it’s too late
Now I can’t think, think why I should even try
Yesterday seems as though he never existed
Death greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye
“Fade to Black” – Metallica / Live, Sh*t, Binge & Purge
I’ve tried this before to little avail
But this time determined to stay gold
My aim was true the blade took hold
The gashes on my arm a tempest of Braille
Of each attempt before where I failed
I believe I’ve played my final checkmate
In this quiet club where most anything goes
No one notices as I’m caught in pain’s throes
The link between life and death starting to mutate
No one but me can save myself, but it’s too late
My thoughts miles away, with millions to go
At last I leave this earth, this fool’s paradise
Smiling at the success of my pending demise
My heartbeat a descant to my blood’s smooth flow
An improvement on this life I’ve come to know
It’s an odd pleasantry as my body starts to die
The euphoria on knowing I will soon be free
My shirt adorned in the crimson spree
And try as I might, I simply cannot cry
Now I can’t think, think why I should even try
He will come now, I say dispelling my fears
A hole in the wall expands revealing a park
Giving entrance to a figure cryptic and dark
And I marvel how no one else sees or hears
As the avatar of death himself slowly appears
He comes now, years after his help was enlisted
His movement young and yet somehow old
Beauty redefined in his most unique mould
The “what if” and “what is” become rapidly twisted
Yesterday seems as though he never existed
And he comes soft as a murmuring breeze
To guide me from this plane to the next
I welcome this release from the pretext
That each day here was worthy of reprise
Feeling the release of life’s final degrees
I wanted this death, and Death is willing to comply
It’s the start of a beautiful friendship
He grasps my frail hand in this new kinship
But I’m not dying, for to say I have lived is a lie
Death greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye
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Yes, another glosa.
Raivenne-lations 