Category: Poetry-Thing Thursday

Anything rhythmically or structurally varied from general fiction.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Duty and Honor’s Calls

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

The words of saints,
are written on the walls,
of political prisons,
and private jail halls.

We rose as one,
against tyranny’s fist,
200 years ago,
but now we hesitate to list,

those we know oppress us,
because their money and greed rule.
Man.
Woman.
Child.
Society their collective fool.

When will it break,
for the willfully ignorant?
For I attempt to change it,
with words that are not arrogant.

Many do not see its worth,
to that I have no argument,
because I know the truth,
and I hear the oppressed lament.

Do not mistake my words,
for the ravings of the belligerent,
they are rather pleas,
that with hope I’ve sent,

so that in time,
we may act as one,
and come together,
for sake of Earth and Sun.

Unite and rebel,
against those whom wish you ill,
but do it cleverly with words
and others shall join–
or at least I will.

For the words of saints,
are written on political-prison walls,
but they belong in our hearts,
along with duty and honor’s calls.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: A Feast of Life

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Lead me not into darkness,
for I seek the light.
In times of trouble or sorrow,
it is that for which I fight.
For there is no heaven, nor hell,
only those meek and with might,
and good and evil,
is only a matter of sight.

Do not speak of atrocities,
for I intend to feast on life.
In the living there is to be found,
something of a double-edged knife,
two-sided– a duality,
of equal parts joy and strife.
Love is its queen, virtue its king,
loyalty and truth its husband and wife.

So open your mind, and heart, and eyes.
Listen with soul, fingers, and ears.
The world has much to tell.
There are greater things than one’s own fears,
and there is much more to see–
some older than even man’s years.
All of them, in the right moment,
can bring one to tears.

So open up and embrace,
that which is all around you,
life and love and happiness,
all the things you can do,
and live to feast on life,
for your death will come too,
and between here and there and then and now,
it is better to have lived anew.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Of That Which I Speak

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Teeth gnawing bone to marrow.
Blood red spatters along a predator’s mouth.
Death taints the air with sickening sorrow.
But is it beast or man,
of that which I speak?

Cold and harsh with icy wind.
Needles stinging lungs with each breath.
Nipping frost along dew-moist eyes.
But is it love or hate,
of that which I speak?

Perspective.
Infective.
Detective.
Corrective.

Flowing outward in diverging currents.
Sounds both entrancing and distracting.
While in the middle of it all drifts dead-wood.
But is it a river or a crowd,
of that which I speak?

A million more ways it could be put.
Perhaps infinite more than that.
Going round and round in circles.
But is it life or death,
of that which I speak?

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Illusions, Delusions

~ S.M. Nolan ~ 6 Comments

Illusions. Delusions.
Superstar collusions.
What mad profusions,
have granted such allusions,
as those formed by occlusions?

We stand for fraternity,
and to procure eternity,
for all whom modernity,
garners uncertainty,
from opportunity.

With salutations,
society’s ovulations
warrant congratulations,
in hopes of greater gradations,
‘stead of capitulations.

But the painful suicide,
of the truth we do hide,
can no more deride,
than a wave at high-tide,
one hoisted port-side.

With it we contend,
but I do not depend,
on your lunatic bend,
for realities mend,
and you can be penned.

Until your reality,
meets the Wisdom Tree
We’ve no need of thee,
so you may go free,
as we pause to take knee.

Life is no game.
You should feel shame,
for the way that you maim,
the world you find tame.
Ignorance your claim.

I hereby remove,
you from the groove,
until I see that you’ve,
found life to improve,
and have wisdom behoove.