Who dares to define what poetry is
Romantics feel it’s hearts and flowers
Some might say it’s a ruthless biz
others would point to its staying power ...
A novel has a beginning, a middle, an end
Most short stories, a denouement
I say poetry reflects the spirit in me ~
though I suspect most folks would disagree
The problem with Kamala Harris
Is she never dares us
To reach deep down inside to find our better selves
We're left to gather moss in the forest ~ random elves
Who dares rouse Leviathan,
the Giant beneath the heaving deeps?
This world now teams with Ahabs
whose heaping anger never sleeps.
Each one wants to hook its jaw
and each to press its tongue;
to try its rich and fragrant oil
and see it bound and beached and dumb.
Poor soul captains on fragile ships
vainly sharpening the barbless spear.
The Whale scoffs beneath the waves,
rising to teach all wisdom through fear.
Soon the Brute will breach and blow
and send each Pequod down below.
Wednesday, believe it or not
twenty-nine people shot ~
Chicago's gone to pot
______________________________
Yesterday, Wednesday, July 14, 2021
Privately Peony practiced the art of purple magic
Reaching into her ruffian wand,
Lingering lovingly for a second or two
Outrageous? Sure. Ostentatious? She hoped so!
Further down in the feathery contraption
Under a peacock’s underlying ribbon of worth
Bringing a bright bubble of blue into the air
Ruffian wand wrote ridiculous on her forehead
No one had dared do that in Nam City
Kindnesses of knights would have nixed this
Coneflower her creative sister tried to explain
Antagonizing Peony in the process
Heathcote heard and had his hardy opinions
Look said Lavender, stay out of it!
Simmering softly, Heathcote wrote to Peony
Guess what? She grabbed his idea up!
No one else helped me north or south!
I appreciate your ideas, Heathcote.
Oh sure! Said Coneflower, take that ogre’s ideas.
They were enemies, she and that Neanderthal.
Death is ok only if
It creeps and seizes abruptly
Snipping down on prey
Like hawk on loose fowl
And take us once
Leave deceased in lamentation.
Yes thats ok, we die once anywhere.
For this path has two ways,
The coming and the going
Its better die not knowing
The ailment bearing your death calling.
Death is ok only if
We are to endure
Heightened climax of life by pain
As our ableness is drained
In perpetual ailment inviting
Eyes to pair around as to cradle,
Attesting the last lap as minds confound
To the mystery of this debilitating vigor
Gazing to the groaning mutters
Of the living tormented soul.
There was a writer so fair.
Who never put on any airs.
But, she couldn't foresee.
Till she ran into me.
She couldn't keep up with my dares...
Villanelle : Who dares to doubt must he questions address Fate
Who dares to doubt must he questions address Fate
Let tears on High Holy Mass spill down the Seine
Would one propose to the Lord what's not innate
Is the Lord's mise en scène an act desperate
A dire call to fill Church benches lone vain
Who dares to doubt must he questions address Fate
Who'd wish the Crown of Thorns be crushed under weight
Aging oak high rafter timbers tumble rain
Would one propose to the Lord what's not innate
Witness the Lord's will red-hot Spire irate
Whose felo de se the Flèche pierced heart in pain
Who dares to doubt must he questions address Fate
Montmartre's severed head Saint Denis lugged Frankish hate
Who'll don Louis IX Tunic to rule Louvre brain
Would one propose to the Lord what's not innate
Could Man his collapsing structure rebuild to date
Lord's Agent be or manage the mise en scène
Who dares to doubt must he questions address Fate
Would one propose to the Lord what's not innate
© T. Wignesan - Paris, April 17, 2019
5star tuning fork then. Interesting information from a cat who is curled on a very high shelf. Street credibility is neither two frogs in matching hats or a piñata. Oh drapes then. Opinionated official onion oaths on orderly ordained octagonal oceanographic oranges. No boats. Hahahaha and now a long lengthy bean discussing pines in lines. Hahahaha and fortress of fork. Blame not a seafood oriented programming language. Xxxx Daedalus z
Who Dares…..
Who dares to open this old and weathered tome
seeking knowledge, seeking to determine which
road to take, what thoughts to think, what must be
done to build upon the yellowed pages of another’s
dog eared life. Are you so prematurely defeated
that you seek another’s armor, shield, and buckler
not your own, weapons discarded by long past
warriors? Have the wizards of wisdom tainted
all creativity with fear, have the speakers of the truth
lied, has all been taken but faint memory of a
once held dream? A dream of naked pages and
empty books awaiting the touch of new pens,
new ideas, new rebellions. A dream of words
bathed in the breath of youth crying to be fed,
not old and withered fodder but fresh buds
in early stage of ideological bloom, words whose
meanings have never changed yet will be the
words that change ideas, thoughts, dreams,
and destiny. Words imbued by a new passion,
a new zest, possessed of simplicity and
teased by genius, written on the acts of daily
life.
Who dares to open this old and weathered tome!!
Learn, and dare to write your own.
8/8/2013
submitted to – Theme #4 – Poetry contest
sponsor – SKAT A
The Lizard lays in the Sun
It has no fear
Its Island is deserted
How will the Lizard survive?
It tastes horrible.
Predators know that from it’s bright colors
Tasty treats are camouflaged
Lizard dares the predators
Bite Me!
Not even a juvenile predator does
The lizard flicks it’s tongue
Scurries under a rock
The teasing is done
Who Cares?!
They see horrible things happen!
They observe and take no action.
Their sick defense is who cares!?
Let me rephrase it: who dares!?
You stop caring, you stop feeling!
You stop feeling, you lose meaning!
What is life like without meaning?
Worthless, sterile, and demeaning!
What is life like without caring?
What is life like without sharing?
Fake ideals and false pretensions!
Hell incarnate with good intentions!
13/4/2014
Innocent Youth.
Potential Danger.
Worlds'collide in the path of an unwilling crane.
Yet,she excepts her fate.
by-Kacey Greenlee
kaceymike29
Long i stood
in shadows deep
with changing faces
eyes piercing with flame
feelings so strong
desiring for so long
in choosing a life with you
when everything seems to go so wrong
no one ever sees my pain
If i should sleep
would i wake into a dream
to deny my feelings of craved fantasies
to kiss away my tears
without reason my eyes blink
here i stand
in shadows deep
with changing faces who dares to care
February 28,2011
dragonflies touch off
from amongst pond's floating spheres
beauty dares emerge.
(January 21, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
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