My fragmented heart defied my mind's authority
A gloomy transformation carved from sorrow's blood
Dopamine disappears while endorphins are the minority
The down feeling crashes in like an uncontrolled flood
An unwelcomed intruder colonizing my obedient body
I routinely succumb to your callous commands
An old foe by the former name of melancholy
Like a sponge you absorb my joy unarmed
Your fourth unsolicited visit in fourteen years
The voice of my normality fades in your shadow
Familiar with your punishment I become immune to fears
The heat of your rule coerces my heart to feel mellow
I forbade hopelessness to assert its voice in my head
Through gruntled teeth I allow my pride to fall instead
Antidepressants forces a ceasefire in our internal war
Tranquility pushes you out through my heart's aluminium door
I embrace peace knowing It too visits but does not stay
For I know you will return again in a few years from this day
The Gods created music
so poets would not have to talk.
The dramatic or moody warblers
stood forth.
Now we had a sing-song mouth
for the scribes.
You’d think that both singers and writers
would be content to plaster the page and air
with these heaven-sent arts,
but
no,
poets sulked, grew sullen
their egos swollen to an eighth degree.
None could not be silent,
And so they invented ‘slam’ and ‘jam’
and every which way
to yells at us -
as if anyone gave a damn.
Gonna miss the days
of those scathing diatribe rants
Gonna miss duh daze
of that diss-gruntled miscreant
Ask me
what is my most fond
memory, silly
Waxing poetically
‘bout the wretched fall
of genteel civility
Ask me do I believe
what my repressed heart
pain edit shows me
No, not really
Gonna miss the nights
of those backward scroll bark tweets
Gonna miss duh sights
of that carny clown moonwalk deeds
Please ask me
what be my bosom best
selfie safekeep, silly
That cherished chain
‘round my neck
Which give my fetter thoughts
slumbering liberty
Ask bluebird me,
as I pillow drop in free fall ease
Ask soaring sigh me
‘fore I rain cloud drift to sleep
What is my most favorite
bedtime story, silly
It’s Snow White tenderly caring
for black swan me
It’s such a beautiful celluloid freeze,
this imaginary empathy
brings much tears to my wry cheeks
Gushing romantically
‘bout the downtrodden rise
of Pharaoh sensitivity
Ask me do I believe
what this broken heart of mine
REM knit telly me
No, not lullaby really
Wouldn’t it be wonderful
to live in a
wintry dream alternate reality
11-13-20
I've been whining for years
And I know you'll agree
That it's now safe to say
It sucks ... to be me
The only normal family is abnormal.
Do we have daymares?
Thinking is a soliloquy of the mind.
Do you really think Jack and Jill only wanted a pail of water?
To be great is to be misunderstood.
Some people must dream to balance those who don’t.
I am entombed by the landscape of my mind.
Don’t live in a sand castle hoping the tide will stay out.
It’s hard to be an odd person in an even world.
Why is common sense so uncommon?
Your perception of reality may not be real.
The wave does not have to look for the water.
Life is making sense out of nonsense.
Is insight the opposite of outsight?
Are the colors of the trees the colors you see?
Is the opposite of disgruntled, gruntled?
We are always giving our attention to something.
Don't be conspicuous about being inconspicuous.
Is what’s behind your front in front of your back?
Isn’t nothing, something?
bedecked golden bride
golden goose for gruntled groom
golden noose or life
~25 Jun 2016~
A commentary on the odious practice of demanding dowry from the bride's side in an arranged marriage still prevalent, though outlawed by law, which is often the cause of great harassment leading to suicide, or even murder of brides. The present Law in India provides for immediate arrest of the groom and his immediate relatives on complaint from the bride. Any death of the girl within 7 years for any reason is considered a dowry death unless conclusively proved otherwise. Cultural and societal pressures (including extra-judicial "kangaroo courts" often prevent or hide dowry related incidents. It is either a life of servitude and submission or death in cases of Dowry Deaths.
The practice of Dowry is on the decline in present times, but indirect demands are often made.
OPPOSITES
Joe is always feeling disgruntled
Can’t remember when he was last gruntled
His garden shed was dismantled today
It’s only two years since it was mantled
In the mirror his hair looks dishevelled
Rarely these days is it shevelled