Sixteenth poem

I love delicious tea
with tags of hope
and fun for me
that help to cope
on days I’m not free
to just say nope.

It was a nope
when without tea
I couldn’t cope
and inside me
was shrinking hope
for I could be free.

I yearn to be free
and void their nope,
bold on tea,
that helps me cope
for who would expect me
to give up on hope.

But is that hope
what makes me free
what if it’s nope
does my tea
which helps me cope
lie to me

But inside me
I know my hope
isn’t in my tea
but in my heart. Nope,
the tea is free
from duty to help me cope.

For I’ll always cope
and you’ll see me
manifest hope
completely free
of anything, so nope,
I cannot blame the tea.

So with tea I may cope
but my hope is just me
I choose free over nope

My Diary

I awaken in the morning
To lick my master’s face
I need food to survive the day
If I play at my pace

I run around the house till rest
And cuddling I need
I dedicate to snarl at cat
Or Mailman’s dirty deed

I protect my parents daily
And show them lots of care
Because one day I might be gone
So my love, I must share

Repeat daily

Emotional Impairment

 

He stands defiant, a child without Hope
Everyone cares and no one is Kind
He’s alone, untrusting of Compassion
Demonstrating his artistic Rage
Lonely child full of Hate
Home is the comfort of other’s Disdain

Awaken by Disdain
Devoid of Hope
First to Hate
Keeps to his Kind
Full of Rage
Lack of Compassion

Show him Compassion
Free of Disdain
Calm his Rage
Show him Hope
Please be Kind
Reframe his Hate

We deserve his Hate
We expect Compassion
Him to be Kind
We show Disdain
And squash his Hope
While feeding his Rage

Igniting his Rage
Fueling hisHate
Killing his Hope
And Compassion
Promoting Disdain
Of his Kind

He tries to be Kind
Dampen his Rage
And Disdain
He buries his Hate
Tentative with Compassion
And Hope

Teaching him to be Kind, releasing his Hate
Letting go of Rage to make room for Compassion
Converting his Disdain into great Hope

A marriage that last beyond time and space

a courtship

 

A courtship occurring day by day
A commitment emulating so deeply
Loving so intensely
Endless yearning fulfilling
An engagement so fulfilling
Commitment forever and always faithfulness
A marriage that last beyond time and space

10:30 pm 14/12/2014
© ROY MARK AZANZA CORRALES All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

#16

I hope to create in this life more than a noise
and to leave behind, as I go, more than an echo.
It might seem like vanity, but truly
it’s an ambition. For my dreams are surreal
and my soul is electric
and I hope my words are not forgotten.

Ideas lose value, if they are forgotten,
And everything becomes just background noise
from the chatter to static electric,
useless gossip surrounding you like an echo
of the world so surreal,
that it’s no longer perceivable truly.

As for myself, yours truly,
I am not yet forgotten,
but saying “remembered” would be a bit too surreal.
As I try to tune out all the noise,
to avoid turning my writing into an echo,
my mind tunes into the steady buzzing electric.

Let’s keep our lives in a state of electric,
plugged into devices, as if we are truly
nothing but an echo
of our human nature, long forgotten.
Our ancestors would find the city noise
confusing and our lifestyle surreal.

We made our art surreal
as if life is not moving, not electric
enough on its own, as if we need the noise,
the disturbance, the distortion to truly
see what would otherwise be forgotten
like a fading echo.

Let your own words become an echo,
so they reach farther, even if they sound surreal.
Better that, than be entirely forgotten
in this age of electric
communications. Say what you mean truly,
and don’t become part of the noise.

We live in the age of echo, surrounded by the electric
and the surreal. I’ll make my words truly
my own, in hopes of not being forgotten or dismissed as noise.

7 a.m. Haiku

summer clouds

my eyes more asleep

than the rest of me

 

 

red poppies

now bloomed out

as I run out of rouge

 

 

June rain

wet sand in my shoes

and a crab

 

 

 

©  Ella Wagemakers, 06.58 Dutch time (= 00.58 EST in the US)

Sleep Deprived

Sleep deprived, I can’t decide,

Continue? can’t open my eyes.

Foggy, soggy, liquid matter.

No time for idle chatter.

Beauty rest, I cannot get,

falling fast, like off the fence,

when I hit the final fall,

its gonna make a splatter.

 

 

Seduction after Dark

After dark, the moon is full and bloody red

Eyes longing, searching for a victim to devour.

Victims who are susceptible to her magic charms,

her tempest beauty is enticing and tempting.

Lonely spirit are inviting and she’s itching her way

to seduced her first victim. Blood oozing from first bite.

The night is in desolation, victims longing to draw closer,

spreading her aura of desires to get in.

She sneak in the dark alley to steal the moment,

Of forbidden sin..a crime passion.

The water here is no longer viable
And food deliveries, are at best, unreliable
If we are caught here, its undeniable
That we would all be held liable
But be like Hickory wood, unpliable
For no bounty on our heads is even remotely justifiable
For no bounty on our heads is not remotely justifiable
not just water here is viable
They would hold liable
If we are caught undeniable
And are, at best, unreliable
to be like religion, unpliable
like steel, unpliable
is any remotely justifiable
Theater no longer viable
That which would be liable
caught here, undeniable
And delivers the unreliable
yes, even the unreliable
however unpliable
calls for the  justifiable
thirst ending viable
absent of liable
its undeniable
undeniable
is this our reliable
no longer viable
remotely justifiable
still unpliable
liable
We hold liable
If caught here undeniable
at best, unreliable
the forever unpliable
bounty on  justifiable
The viable
no longer viable held liable
best unreliable, its undeniable
like Hickory wood, unpliable remotely justifiable