“Somewhere in every man, etched out upon his soul, is the one resentment, one love, one hate that his days have pressed out of him. Whether it’s written harshly upon the surface of his wizened face, or pierces out from the deep within his yellow eyes, it’s there!”
Ismith Khan, The Jumbie Khan
Sometimes it is healing.
A person no longer suffering.
Death is peace, depending on
your viewpoint angle.
It like a gentle sunset riding away
on waves of see you later, not
that you cared anyways.
Death is coming.
They did what they had to,
so they cross over illegally.
Now the Mediterranean screams
their name, floating their souls.
If they did not have ambition, they
would not leave for a better life.
Yet death snatch them tragic,
mocking their will to love – to eat – to breathe.
Post 15: National Poetry Month
Poetry Form: Monody
Source: Flo Perry / BuzzFeed
Became a part of history
but definitely not a mystery,
to all the memories you cuddle
into forever, etched in lovely bubbles.
Post 12: National Poetry Month, 2015
Poetry Form: Epitaph: A brief poem sometimes appearing on a tomb. It rhymes.
Shane rode into the sunset, hat bobbing along the horizon.
Chaos he left behind men bleeding, children crying,
women blushing, fainting like fallen soldiers, nothing surprising.
Why oh why Shane did you cause such a hurting.
He slaughtered all the cattle painting the river crimson red
leaving Pleasantville in a horrible lasting stench.
What will they do all the carriages are broken and the horses fled.
Why oh why Shane did you use Billy Bob’s wrench
Second week of poetry class with the poetry form of ballad.
Source: J. Pierre
So many afraid of you, they fear the uncertainty of the unknown but are you really that puzzling?
Some say everything stops when you step in; life stop to thrill.
But I say death is not only Mount Vesuvius over Pompeii.
It is the rest for that travelling heart, a heart which toiled over Himalayan of heavy load.
Hey, these shoulders need a rest at some point.
Death brings a slumber of the never return, alarm clocks are obsolete.
Just unequivocal silence, the type when you can hear yourself thinking and you cannot do a thing about that mental exercise.
Read the rest of this entry
Throw all you can at me, huff and puff and blow down my house, Mr. Big Bad Wolf.
Call out my dreams like the Pied Piper, let them creep and follow you like zombies into the unknown.
I was once so naïve, travelling through life with my red coat and basket, eager to help especially family.
Alas, I got the Pinocchios, stretching their lies, gambling their fables for favours. Oh Aesop would be proud!
What is the point of all the tricks and treachery only to come back to me with pretense.
I am not that coveted throne but winter is threatening with its demons and games.
In the end if I am among the statistics, you can rest assured, I can die only once.
You heard me right. Yes, you can only take my last breath only one time.
Break my resistance, kill my opportunities, block the flow of success but it will not last forever.
If only death can bring release, then do not gloat, your reign of dominance is complete.
Your flower opened almost a century ago, in the midst of the first war the document says but the family is certain you are six years older.
You helped bring four children into this forsaken world: three boys and one girl, two of whom predeceased you.
My first memory of you is passing by your home to eat sugar cane. I stretch my storage tank for anything earlier but nothing comes up.
I remember you as a teenager with the same mini sugar cane field but is that all?
I have nothing fuzzy, nothing warm, why am I so stainless steel?
I do not know what happen but you fell off my radar but you suddenly reappeared when my adult years began.
Everyone speaks of your troublesome nature, your eager want to converse, to ask about the girlfriend or the boyfriend 🙂
But I got none of that….
I received polite conversation suited for strangers.
Was I so cold to you, stainless steel again? Or was it you?
I went away for some time and I came back to polite conversations.
Now, your flower has faded, your light has extinguished never to blaze anymore.
Let your spirit return to its creator, now you can dream forever with no more pain.
Let me not be afraid as death persistently hits home of late.
Help me more and more to confide my fears to you and have you turn them into rainbows.
When the task at hand frustrates every nerve in me, help me bite my bottom lip and say nothing.
Help me to rely on you more and more and just learn to quit worrying and lord if I do not say it enough, thank you for always giving me one comfort when the black hole sucks everything else.
When everything grows hopeless and forbidden fruits appear acceptable nag me like crazy and drill me like a solider to keep up discipline.
Lord, the time are changing, have changed and will continue to change but let me change only for the better and if the better is unacceptable to those that love me, well, set them straight.
Thank you lord for always surrounding me with people who look out for me, everywhere I go.
Yes indeed sometimes I wish for more but I am realizing fully that getting everything I want, have consequences for me.
You give me a warm bed at nights,
When there are so many homeless people.
You gave me meals everyday and snack too; now many Haitians do not have that.
You gave me the opportunity to read for my degree making my dream into reality whilst many are still dreaming.
Contentment is not a crime; it is an art of self-discipline.
Lord, you make me think of the work/mark of the beast and the courage and yes the contentment needed for that time.
Therefore, if you are training me for then, I will earnestly try to humble more and more.
I will try extra hard, many of my friends’ say I need to learn submission.
Now that request and understanding is for another longer letter.
So for now lord, I say goodnight.