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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Thursday, 28 February 2013

Why do we keep gong at it?

Could it be that love is an ocean?
and we're clashing waves riding high and low,
so some days we are still,
others we get aggravated then shrill,
as we swish and swash 
 'cause it's no longer a thrill,
its inconsistent motion has made us love sick.

Could it be that love is war?
and we're engaging in friendly fire
raising emotional barricades to shield our hearts,
from verbal and non verbal bullets
whose triggers are pulled by our partners
having failed to solve matters in diplomatic manners.

Could it be that love is a game?
Where we are competitors,
and in this Colosseum,
we fail to fathom the reality
that we are a team,
and that to go past whats grim,
we need to pass it.
to end the score that’s putting us at war.

Pieces of love

love is a worship place;
some run to it for joy,
others seek it for peace,
while some seek forgiveness.

love is a battlefield!
Fight for it and you will unite.
fight as a team and enjoy its perks.
fight against it, hate will consume you.

love is abstract art,
treasure its value it'll display in your heart.
stroke its plush nature against the- 
walls of your heart and the outcome, 
will leave the world envious of your work.

love is undeniable to the heart.
Fight it, it will fight right back.
resist it, your shield will grow weary. 
embrace it, and it'll will be yours to keep. 

Life is strange

Life is strange, it contains much beauty, 
and in its colour dwells beasts to juxtapose.

It has music of different genres and roles, 
from the nonchalance of soul-
to the rowdiness of rock n roll.

Love that burns a phoenix flame,
some get burned and relinquish it, 
others seek its warmth and cherish it. 

Joy that takes on multiple forms,
from narcissistic demagogues that revel in anarchy,
to helpless hippies that frolic in a world of iniquity

Nature that flourishes off of itself, 
rain feeds seeds and a rainbow forms when it leaves, 
seeds sprout into trees and the ground feeds off leaves.

Religion that has bewildered man,
from the idol worshippers ridiculed by Abrahimic followers, 
to Buddhists that pay no mind to scrimmage of blasphemers.

And of earnest men;
dwells those gliding over cascading luxury
while some tumble down a dark pit of penury. 

life is strange, it's a mishmash of isms,
in which the diabolic and uptopic worlds co-exist.