What if…?

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G.James, What if…?, 2017

Roused from dreams and mind still closed.

Picked up paper. Picked up pen.

From sleep’s dark depths a question posed.

What if…? Words appeared – then and now and when!

*****

What if now is then and then for now was used?

Put down paper. Put down pen.

So confused.

Returned to sleep again.

*****

What if then is now and now for then transposed?

Picked up paper. Picked up pen.

So confused.

Awakened once again.

*****

What if then and now disagree?

What happens next?

Added when, makes three!

Do all evolve in dream’s perplexed?

*****         

What if yesterday to now succumbs?

Is today now lone’s abode?

If today tomorrow’s when now becomes

Will yesterday, today and tomorrow self implode?

*****

What if yesterday was today’s used?

Is today tomorrow’s ken ignored?

So confused

Returned to sleep once more.

*****

What if when, tomorrow, then survives?

Exacerbating bafflement!

Dream’s confusions mind’s disguise.

Absolute bewilderment!

*****

What if now is when and now is then?

Then is when and when is now?

So confused

Awakened yet again.

*****

What if then and now and when apart exist?

Wearied by attempts to understand and solve

These unruly confusions forcefully persist.

Notions’ complex still unresolved.

*****

Then and now and when encore.

Picked up paper. Picked up pen.

Turmoil rages. Thought’s explored.

Do such nightmares ever end?

*****

Meandering words and idle musings full run.

Such rambling verbiage unable to defeat.

Then and now as well as when’s victory well won.

Subjugated retreat, finally, to sleep.

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Midnight Rhapsody

 

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Midnight Rhapsody

’Neath midnight’s mighty darkened sky

Rising luminous clouds I glance.

O’er nectared hill tops wisp winged fairies fly.

Seduced, imbibed I join their sacred dance.

                               *****

‘Neath starlight’s sapphire cosmic vault

Sweet perfumed breeze my being fills.

Such beauteous stillness, mind and eyes exalt.

Eve’tide’s lullaby weary soul distills.

                                *****

‘Neath plum trees silvered blossomed boughs

I watch the stars immortal blest.

Snow pearled petals fall. Peaceful rest endows.

‘Pon earth’s verdant pillow, my head, I rest.

                               *****

‘Neath moonbeams failing floodlit rays,

’Twixt dawn’s burning breaths, morn conceived.

Bliss filled rivered dreams ebb and flow away.

Life’s transient mortality perceived.

https://goffjamesart.wordpress.com

Hatred

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G.James, Hatred, 2017

Hatred’s aging darkness spreads.

Hatred’s vile diction

Hatred’s ugliness dressed fair.

Hatred, truth’s beauty defiles.

 

Hatred’s masquerade.

Hatred diversity denies.

Hatred parity scorns.

Hatred’s bloody hand destroys.

Hatred, democracy’s threat.

 

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Dawn’s Symphony

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G.James, Dawn’s Symphony, 2017

Night’s dark curtain folds.

Storm strewn street rain soaked washed.

Morn’s first light ignites.

 

Cock’rel’s trumpet loudly greets

Daylight’s waking symphony.

 

Sun subdued appears.

Blackbird’s quavered piping heard.

Sparrows’ chatt’ring cheer.

 

Greedy gulls sore throated mock

Daylight’s waking symphony.

 

Dawn and chorus share

Robin’s roundelay most fair.

Day emboldened breaks.

 

Doves’ song, sunrise celebrates,

Daylight’s waking symphony.

 

Night’s shadows dispersed.

Morn’s advent harmonious rings.

From sleep’s depths I wake.

 

Life refreshed I rise and breathe

Daylight’s waking symphony.

 

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Lamentation

Lamentation. A poem after reading Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984) “First they came …”

 

Lamentation

…Naked,

Hungry, Thirsty,

Naked, Hungry, Thirsty,

Hungry, Thirsty,

Naked.

Humanities’ lamentations soured sung.

Innocence besieged.

Moloch’s altar children’s ashed corpses hung.

Agonized aching voices screamed.

Naked, I heard nothing, I wasn’t naked.

I saw nothing. I was clothed.

I said nothing.

Hungry, I heard nothing, I wasn’t hungry.

I saw nothing. I was fed.

I said nothing.

Thirsty, I heard nothing, I wasn’t thirsty.

I saw nothing. I was quenched.

I said nothing.

Naked,

Hungry, Thirsty,

Naked, Hungry, Thirsty,

Hungry, Thirsty,

Naked.

Agonized aching voices screamed.

Then they came for me.

Evil’s talons clenched fast held.

Then there was no one left

To speak for me.

To speak for me,

Speak for me,

For me,

Me…

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_they_came_…

http://hmd.org.uk/resources/poetry/first-they-came-pastor-martin-niemoller

 

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