The handed instruction was ‘Within two hours’
Purchase two arresting flowers
With an overpowering scent
For A Heart pitiably rent
And a head sorrowfully bent …
And dutifully I went,
From head to toe A Gent
But back with flowers lent,
But for the same purpose meant;
The handed money with me,
The Nice Flowers for Free!
And to my person
It was no dent
But not to Embittered Carson,
Who speedily asked for Mr. Kent
And on the same errand sent
With a warning to be not as lenient
“To build a house, not pitch a tent”
I’d proved A Reincarnation of King Saul
The Not Sensible: Only Tall.
Preparing The Lips for repeated groans
And The Heart for as many moans,
Left long in it one’s contacting phone:
“To whom it concerns I’m pitiably alone!”
Suffering never was a stepping stone
To our Remote-Controlled Throne,
For all its merits steadily overblown
And at Non-sufferers readily thrown …
Some bit Suffering releases in The Grown
With the doggedness he’d sown:
The often insupportable lighter,
The Rather Darker, Much Brighter
Tasked legs that no longer totter
A furnace now cooler that was hotter.
Still, The Never Ceasing Suffering
Keeps Singular Pain Offering
And as a spring board
The Regionally Broad.
Faster advancing The Dish-Washing American
Than A Nigerian Mover of filled Jerry can.
Let's say we have capitulated
yes, let's say we have succumbed
to their whimsical naivété and inane wisdom
Let us assume that it is all phoney
that it is a bogus hoax-filled folklore
We shall now pretend that we have been beguiled by such marvelous
exercise of ludicrous folly
Such bombardment of contorted philosophy
But in our gullibility we shall yet ask
in sheepish inquisition and meek certainty
if this course so pitiably slandered be nothing but deceit,
why then does it stand conspicuously so therapeutic?
why has it made men
who traversed through the impossible vortex of
reality's odd challenges?
why has it given Invigoration with hope
the haggard Destitute?
Why has it restored green to those fallen human twigs
Why has it steadied nerves and halted addictions?
Why has it healed the sick and made disappear tumults?
Why has it prognosticated that which we now perceive
Does nothingness do that
Does nothingness tender an insight so revealing,
So infinite.
Does nothingness and baseless belief
deliver from the vague labyrinth of man's ordination
if these be true
Who then doubt's the veracity
Why then disprove religion
High up here,
amid this cold and alone,
my tools might best be
forgiven if they've
long-since forgot
that they deserve better.
But the only lips my teacup
have known are my blurburing two.
The only ink my brush has known
has been that scolded into some
sorrowful form on this not-mulberry rock.
The only skin this robe has known
was that of this persistent perpetrator.
It's yet to feel a worthy monk; the only sage its known
is the sage I've crumbled into my pestle
in pitiably inchoate mockery of an apothecary
when my knee went turned and grew as big
as my dreams.
The only ears or heart my poems have reached
up here, in this thin air,
have been,
has been my own -
Source and resting place of my
ignoble offerings.
I forgive my cup.
I forgive my robe.
I forgive my brush.
I forgive my flesh.
It never knew better.
It always deserved better.
It never knew better.
To a discernible memory.
To stolen identity.
How can we forget slavery?
We’ve become pitiably.
Not having any self-acceptance and self approval was our inferiority.
The corpus of unjust laws and the ghettoizing of our people placed in poverty.
The way we’re treated and disrespected in our cities, communities, and society.
After the marches, sit-ins, civil right movements, and all that our leaders have
done and
we still have no unity.
But society was shock due to our talents, skills, intellect, creativity, and emerging
personality.
Sometimes I’m crushed by an infectious malevolence that plaques our
community.
Racism has a blade that cuts through our equality, liberty, and democracy.
With our collateral knowledge and our bravery let us nurture and educate our
young about
our lost history.
Through all the Jim Crows, and walls of racism, hatred, bigotry, and obscurity.
We live ethically with Christianity and had spirituality.
We must continue our march and fight for justice and equality.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.