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frost reincarnation[INSPIRED BY BARBARA]

visage princesses, promies or proxies
no.............................. Abel's BLOOD carbon offsetting
yes him, Abel, the scared angel of death
this day Cains petition bromance bargainous
delivering dreamed love among miniature
mercy and the unquantifiable fools lion den
when the sun shines , and the rains fall,
a lion is giving birth, big media to
precious embodiment of wisdom
delight and the epitome universe matchy-matchy
generation maker hypermilling
but Cain must hide for the rest days turducken
like your beauty regrettable my love

grateful for one drop in the famish viral
palms that hearken unique insatiable
even sacrifices of ivy-elms frond ornamental
gold and silver amongst companion sheeple

since you throw away my love
my feelings are like an Akudaya
in his frost reincarnation a mogul, cut short abroad
and was spotted yet days after deceased
then he became a wrathful satyr of the deep
always crying at night from sickle cell
blood group never cease extermination,
has the Ewedu leaf Di-chronic on the road
picked in the calabash for the tortoise
we have seen more intrigued in the malevolent past
and so married a twin brother flash-mob for frenemy
grudge of knives in the compound knaves

she was killed in the out-break of seed predecessor
you must dig your seeds deep
in the womb of the earth for sprout?
days, spell or short seasons
child birth and the embryo have suffered
not on this occasion,
there were three goals
what, when and why?

should she not be traced for nativity, where?
or make with contact the living and the dead
she would easily become a feather kola-nut
but we must go home,
after the rainfall, after the harvest
man-goose and mangrove will blur
these are the proof, her seed.
so Cain now heinous in his sin
loves this girl, but now has lion legs
how can he tell her his love,
he only watches from afar, a solvent
if love is real he asks forgiveness
she bathes in the lake Niassa fur to curb any fury
for gal-pal , fire is light
fire is yet black char Ragnarok
true love to the persecution home-shoring
but what thought will prefer a cougar congeal?

pat Jordan mantle with a sash
enigmatic lion splash salt
dead lion is better than living dog wet morning
seems mirror gift to twin beauty's vales dell
strangely curious and fascinated milk drops
who trembles not when the lion roars to milky ways
a prey in hand in sight or not
to wine and dine and make a feast
in present joy bask, fears no tomorrow
with jeweled cutlery devours slain beauty,
sleep where they fall, dreams without sorrow,
come dogs, good dogs, enjoy the crumbs
yes growl and squabble but wag the tail
and dance faithful to beats of dumb drums
for bark always the masters praises without fail

so greatly separate these varied traits
the lord aloof have none in dread
but boors remain shackled in drudgery strait
cautiously pondering the path they thread
mourn you the heritage of plebeian scorn
sycophants rife, all rush to please
a million friends beat time and space
a million leeches share in the bliss
all for to earn the masters praise
who dare attack a lion's cub?
in right or spite even in sport
the price foolhardy curbs
swift jungle justice meted on the spot
the king in his kingdom or in his cage
radiates majesty and inherent royalty
all hold in awe, all fear his rage
commanding obedience demanding loyalty
snarls and growls impotent none offer help
since progenitors have all tucked tail and fled
chasing mirages from autumn to fall

wherein lies the gates of apostasy
time praised the poor also the rich
the poor curse fate, themselves fate curses
and wisdom to all a lesson to teach
that life is about judicious use of the forces
and death? he knocks and all give heed
the master is gone, his breath is no more
some mourn the loss, some lust after the deed
and the burial? its glory out-shines the morn

o! breeze blind blows, fair breeze
that must make such elms submit
resplendent in glory exists the belle
and this hellish paradise, future golden
the world her throne, ideals trans mutate
atavistic chameleon, painful longing in its torrents
this weather beaten soul remembers
hence becoming empty essences without awe
perched high, throne a toadstool
mediating span of infinite pseudo-belief
and all existence being a shadow of phantom heaven
rationale and consciousness divinity contemplates.

Cain could hold quill and ink
so he wrote " THE TRAGEDY OF WILLOWS" :
pain dulls
throbbing between stoic mien
eat crow
head bowed in renegade mights right
truth dies silently without a fright
fight confidence ridiculed
respect is but the shadow of fear
charade perfected
buried by a betraying hypocrisy reality
before long
the willows constantly bending, falls and breaks
and tomorrow,
will we search for shattered souls in solitude
of screaming silence, racing heartbeats,
light grazes, dilated pupils, choked voices
intense euphoria emotions held breath
vanished thoughts time pauses totally amazed
active tingling blood, strength dissolve
will melts oblivious space missing
tango of hormones, humons nerves paralyzed
limbs rooted, nature watches interested
vision cloudy-apparition real
reasoning tangled, sense chained
feelings overwhelming expectations heightened
silent admiration, mutual fear
fantastic chaos reigns supreme
giddy revelry-intoxicating catalyst
weakness masked, consoled dreams,
will you still gain your colour bright
in a climate of repose?
this is stalemate- and stalemated
the sun though lives- for three days grace

Editing stage: 


Here is one of two of your pieces that have been here for a while.
Now your word power is most times above the average reader, this becomes a problem when writing long pieces.
You lose the reader as the flow has to be interrupted by reference to Wiki or a dictionary.
Now your works to me are confusing, the story wanders from place to place with many references in between.
Where Esker uses short lines and strict use of words you flow with your feelings and spread your work over may words..
Remember I asked or suggested at one time that you write poetry for the history and one type for the average reader, well this needs to be applied again.
Who are you writing for is it just for your own thoughts that the words fall from your pen.
Have a read of your last two pieces that are in the undiscovered works place, I would love for you to think of a market for your works and who they would appeal to.
Read more of the classics and see why they are classics.
Hope you don't mind me saying this but I would love to see you write for the future classics,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

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