Glory

Prompt From @poetscity. Prompt: Glory

Resplendent!

You couldn’t have spent it

more redundant -

days un-dented,

nights un-scented,

dreams left un-attended...

yet, on your deathbed,

you’ll have said,

“I was significant”!

---

Subterranean

The sunlight underneath

the leaves,

which shadow

the streets,

which handle

feet,

which carry

people’s speak,

which hold

lies, truths, and everything

in between…

What happens when it all goes dark?

No shadows to limn

your existence.

Your feet disappear

in the perpendicular crease,

and when breaths leak speak,

we lie on the truth,

because that’s our home…

underneath.

Conscious State

Conscious minds,

consensus,

you won’t find.

If everyone looks out for themselves,

who's gonna look at societal problems and delve?

The “invisible hand”

isn’t an admissible plan

when greed seeps deep, seeks, and steals

to be more grand.

Demos kratos,

the hope’s lost ghosts;

the innocents,

left in a fall,

the victimless, safe in a vault.

Seems to denote,

fiefdom, isn’t over.

Even with the right to vote,

“freedom”, is a misnomer.

We’re presented with representatives unprecedentedly superlative -

Super! Let’s give

them the power

to speak on our

behalf.

We have,

faith.

Let’s elect policies of persons,

as if there aren’t agendas

behind the curtains.

They work for votes in the guise of inclinations,

then win and delegate the task to the next administration.

Resounding un-accounting,

mounting

to debts,

crediting our eventual threats.

As they hold us in liability,

we lie in instability.

Currency’s on the decline,

and our hands are supine,

awaiting the feed of the next line.

Unseen

Listless witness to the tic toc,
the moons lit with the sun drop,
and in between, all my breaths weren't sought.
So I thought,
let me go into my soul,
into this is
where there is
somthin' cherished.
Unshared, if without merits.
A dimension
where nothing bad is mentioned,
and harmony and peace
aren’t far from me and out of reach.
All I have to do is,
breathe.

So please, don’t ask me to open my world.
For, your words forwarded won’t move you forward toward my soul.
It will remain closed, for it’s one place I have complete control…
it’s one place, I’m safe,
…from your world.

8 Fingers

It’s needing 8 fingers
interlocked
and 4 feet
stepping on dry leaves.
And after walking 2 miles,
we’d come upon 1 promise,
such the one the moon has with the tides.
But, an emptiness such the distance between them,
is what I feel now..

it’s wanting 4 eyes
closing
as 2 faces close in.
Only 1 wish would remain;
to never have this come to an end.
But the distance between our breaths
is my emptiness,
and I’m holding mine in..

it’s starving for 2 hearts
to feast on 1 love.
But there being
their beings
being antipodal,
it’s impossible.
It’s me,mpty..
it’s 1 kind of loneliness,
my
…emptiness…