Start journey quest now where love shows,
Stride with calm poise shrewd path of fate;
Feel touch fling zest in sublime flow,
By your own choice greet lavish state.
Learn how to glide as act funds proof,
Match your fine grip to charm lots more;
Peel off vain pride to see plain truth,
Glimpse that fond trip from mortal shores.
Watch the wind blow taut misty lease,
Be on the way of mystic feel;
Sense touch you know with heart at ease,
Cause crafts deep play of apt goodwill.
Exult true gains karma consorts,
Embrace hard pains that love retorts.
Once in the star-filled winter sky,
When I looked at the crescent moon,
Hanging like a delicate jewel
I knew you too were looking high,
Our gazes might meet and get entwined
Far away on the surface of the moon
But now, I know your gaze never left
The atmosphere; never transcended
the barriers of time and this sphere
For you were always busy on your phone,
Watching reels and scrolling feeds
You never accompanied me
In my journey to the realms of beauty,
Which for Keats is joy, but for you,
A time waste and guilt.
Two hearts with different needs
Yet with the zeal to be consorts
What would it lead to?
Would it alter the spirits?
Or would it be aesthetic..??
~Paghunda Zahid
13th of October, 2023
In ancient cities and times,
kings, rulers and their often-faceless consorts,
were exalted in marble statuary,
yet
so much of those effigies
now remain headless.
Those bygone exalted figures
have lost their heads,
(or occasionally the odd arm).
I ask myself,
where did all their heads go?
Were they deemed to be sculptured flowers,
doomed to be dead headed like roses,
by stone-faced gardeners?
The beheaded, the headless,
litter history,
it makes me want to check my own neck,
to confirm my often weak-headed state.
Heads are easy targets,
you strike a light in the dark
then some petty tyrant takes offence
and poof,
there goes your head.
Genghis Khan played polo
with human heads.
If we were born
with a dotted line around our necks
we might put two and two together,
we might be better prepared,
for being booted around
like footballs.
If I had been clearly told
to always keep my head up my ass,
I might not have had this death wish,
to write weird poetry.
*Image of Elon Musk & Brut by Wiki & Unilever.
The Musks
Homonyms, closeness or likeness,
name or smell, be all there,
creates vanishing impetus,
Twit byes and scents to air.
Brut (cologne) was by Faberge,
Joe Namath modeled them,
Brit's Unilever owns today,
autistic Musk use--'um.
Kicked-up raw earth lingers...consorts
just when a mug pivots,
trigger the hounds and all their sorts,
unfeeling and vicious.
Commercial Brut Musk spray wear's off,
sure and forward sashays.
Refine defines, sign-wavers scoff,
Blue Origin tweet praise.
Like Men in Black bruises those teased,
bypass pedos and smile,
a wound-up car humming was eased,
brute Musk in Space-X style.
2023 January 15
*7th Place*
MUSK
~~Anthony Biaanco: Judged 2023 February 04
*RZ & HMS.
The end layers over the beginning
in contours of time
Blanketing the middle
in consorts of connection
Rescuing the lost from themselves
—saving the foundling’s parade
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
In a long blue satin dress she walks in
given in honour and betrothed to be -
to bear for and new alliance begin
and wear a crown ring of matrimony.
Thus played a wedding song of divine prayer:
“Have I told you lately that I love you…”
to march the aisle of veils and true love swear
and hear fairest of consorts vow “I do!”.
When in worldly union spirits align
a man and wife joined in soulful promise,
and exuberance of gay hearts and wine
gently pause in virtue upon sworn kiss.
Till she looks up and screams “what have I done?”
and ponders “do I stay or do I run?”.
Written: December 1999
The eyes of the world are upon two men today~~
One continues his assault upon a sovereign nation
The other travels to shore up peaceful alliances
One isolates himself, knowing his life is in danger
The other visits a town where people are suffering
One’s poll ratings are very high as thousands perish
The other’s polls lag as he deals with enormous issues
While juggling tremendous problems not of his making
One consorts with oligarchs to increase his great wealth
The other works for meager salary considering his task
One will remain in power by manipulating an election
The other will stay or go, as the people make a choice
If I have a choice to live under Joe Biden or Vladimir Putin
I choose to live under Joe Biden, any day, no disputin’.
Written May 21, 2022
There was a time when freedom
was found outside the dictionary,
in the hearts and minds of men;
we wrote our songs, sang and
danced, proud masters of well-tuned
instruments and pen – how I long
for those days for men to be free
again: regain their balls, before
freedom falls, to the feminine within –
good to be soft and cuddly...but not when
wars to be fought; good to have a gentle
side, but testosterone men should
never deride, for the enemies will
have their hide, make slaves
of decaffeinated warriors – not one
rebellious allowed to survive; their
women and children relegated to
obedient consorts, surplus, roasted
alive....
Full moon brownies are breaking up adjectives
in the fairy land of poetry
Mushroom elves ignore their efforts.
They have nouns to chop up
Leprechauns toss some lively verbs
Owl rolls her eyes,
Although this is just the usual evening
At the fairy land of poetry
Colloquialisms? What? Why? Queen Faerie asks.
Her consorts do not know, but they have heard of them.
So now they want them.
She scoffs at their crazy notion.
Where are the prepositions? the Queen demands.
What kind of castle would it be without them?
Over the rafters, under the eaves, and in the water?
Moat faerie laughs because she has hidden the prepositions.
All those COVID-19 reports
Intend to blackball bedroom sports
Its all an hoax
So listen, folks*,
Consorts cavort at Trump Resorts!
*I do know "folk" is plural, but
Trump was raised on, "That's all folks!"
Plenary consorts
Reticent ripe residuals
Neanderthals wake
SANS 7
Each end begins a new spin
As impulse meets odd boundaries
Each start embraces the end
As assorted personas tangle
In a disturbing web of circumstance
Beyond the grasp of simple notions
In the complex seduction of the simple
Where fickle fancy consorts with madness
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
05 October 2019
Singapore
The sky is smiling
Luminous clouds concede a simple clearing
Boasting rays of an aureate sun
Gleaming
The brightest smile I've ever seen
It shines on me
The leaves are dancing
Cool morning breeze is autumn sweet
The crisp of crimson and ochre
Swirling
Their revel consorts my footsteps
They frolic for me
The path is clearing
Shadowy moods of uncertainty are lifting
Mist of fear and doubt
Vanishing
It seems that nature agrees
It speaks to me
Be aware then of a lost pause
Where noting when sets a sure cause.
Notice the mood of virtual loss
Where all things good can need warm gloss.
Consider well the need for words,
Where spiral dwell is seldom heard.
Beware of flights of fantasy
Where dazzling light shines scarcity.
Begin the end right from the start
As puzzling trends shift your sure heart.
Shape-shift your way to parts unknown
When come what may joy spills what's sown.
Release the pain that hampers joy
As living plain can assess ploys.
No matter why you know not ease
Watch rapture ply a lovely peace.
A sacred space consorts with style
As your fond face reveals sad smiles.
Here in this room the subtle tints
Of floral blooms in lovely mint.
Leon Enriquez
14 March 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT
Noon siesta
Windy squeeze
Dream fiesta
Sensuous breeze
Fancy lights
Certain feel
Music flights
Lovely zeal
Zest consorts
Impulse swings
Quest retorts
Savvy things
Random needs
Forge fancy
Fertile seeds
Spice sexy
Deep purses
Affluent kind
Odd verses
Poignant finds
Leon Enriquez
22 February 2018
Singapore
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