BEYOND DA NINTH ISLAND
Plumeria Ikeda
wuz wun rambler and wun gambler.
Rather den just go Vegas
she kept on flying east
until she wen end up landing
by wun huge lake
dat looked as big as wun ocean.
In da city wit da Rock and Roll Hall of Fame
she suddenly found herself in Cleveland.
He Lost His Virginity to a Ball of Wool
His grandmother used to knit slippers
year round for all the grandkids
and –
during that entire summer he spent with her
he got ideas, finding himself home alone
he stared at the basket of wool on the floor
for hours, imagining the softness of each ball
before fingering himself a hole and defiling his favourite.
A large grey mass of fabric which he humped and threw away.
After that, he no longer considered himself a virgin.
And the slippers he got each Christmas
made him uneasy.
Precision Bombing, like Painting Your Nails
with a Bunker Buster Named Quincey
WHAT IF WAR COMES?
he yelled
like a chimney spout
full of soot.
Right to your house?
I asked.
Then I guess you’re
goners.
And he could tell
I was mocking him
which meant that he
was still there
in the outstanding
cable bill sense.
As I thought
about that chimney sweep
in a William Blake poem I had read
many years before.
And how no one escapes the prison
of anything if they don’t
want to.
WUTHERING HEIGHTS RETURNS
Once again today I remember him after many years. Heathcliff, my infamous hero! I would not have forgotten him easily. He is Infact my own reflection. My own soul. I am literally an ophan like him. That’s why I love him so much. Is it an unforgivable crime a man be an orphan? Is it our mistake be born as an orphan? Don’t we have a right to be loved? Don’t we have a right to express our feelings and emotions? Dear readers all of you know why and when Heathcliff began to think about revenge. Isn’t it?
Look at me you all. I am crying….. My eyes vomitting pools of blood! I know you people don’t believe me. You readers think that as I am a story writer I can imagine even if I am the King of Utopia! But the truth is different. All the salty tears containing red corpuscles, pouring over and over again on my shirt incessantly. Now I am wearing a red shirt! Earlier it was pure white.
If you don’t afraid I would disclose one secret. Do you? Ok. I trust you all.
‘The church is matching on
and the gates of hell shall not prevail’
The Word says
Yet, church is not only stagnated
but also a living manifestation of hell
Is the church really moving ?
‘Greater works shall you do…’ The Word assures the church
Unfortunately, the church has fall short of great works
Is the church really moving?
The word makes plain the role of men and women in marriage
but the church is a showcase of the modern couple age
Is the church really moving?
‘Love your neighbour as you love yourself’ the Word admonishes
However, the church is showing ‘conditioned’ love to its members
Is the church really moving?
I like a stream and tree in the mountains.
The objects make me always heal and purify my mind and it makes me
think of life.
Sadness, bitterness, unhappiness was under the water
but they are leaving now with the running water, maybe already gone.
Mean while, I can see positive hope and delight and much of the love I receive in the sunshine pouring on the rock.
I’m basking in the sunshine.
I feel that no good thing never dies.
Life is still beautiful……………….
Housewifery
It is an obvious fact that the smallest unit of any society is the family, chief resident of a home (not a house). Of course, the head of the house is the man but the home-maker is the woman. Though a man may acquire magnificent edifices to his enrichment, it takes a ‘good’ woman to make them homes.
However, the reverse is the case in our contemporary world of civilization where husbands and wives are in pursuit of enhanced convenience at the expense of home building, monetary gains at the expense of physical and mental development of their family members (especially children) and other seen interests. Unequivocally, these discrepancies have truncated stability in most homes thereby constituting inauspicious divorce and estranged issues and eventually broken homes.
At this point, an instance will be necessary to explain the importance of a ‘good’ home-maker, a woman (precisely a wife). A law is passed into a country’s constitution as its recognition. Without the functionality of the executioner, what is the essence or potency of the law? Similarly, a man, the head of the house, can (only) practically pass the instructions to be executed by the woman. Without this, the home will undoubtedly be in shambles. Come to think of it, the executioner is a trained person equipped with the skill of properly executing or acting appropriately on laws passed. In the same vein, a woman or better put, a wife is nurtured with the necessary physical, mental and spiritual empowerment, recognition to deal with issues that face the home. What happens if the woman is not equipped with these empowerment recognition over the years? The answer can be likened to a plant without a functional nucleus. That plant is a phantom!
Ash
Creature of smolder,
a dream put out. Smoking
into the air. Tickles
the nostrils.
That’s ok. It wouldn’t
have been my dream
anyway. Lost heat.
Years-ago lack of reality.
A pile of ashes fittingly
left as a tribute to
something that used to be,
but (being matter)
hasn’t disappeared yet.