Pass her by(e)
She showers me from above with falling spades, having then gift-wrapped the stems with little hearts... a full public service which she's housed in shades
of now red and black poison injected darts.
You'll find her masked as a queen, holding multiple aces, bluffing a community, under multiple faces.
Diamonds of wisdom she pretends to display, when diamonds to cut is the truth of her play.
Stacking the deck against me, she continues to game, a system that she's rigged, with absolutely no shame.
Since all she believes is no feign then no gain,
I must question then at what cost and whose pain?
Club members pleased as she slanders, applaud - the clubbing of a young man's heart, oh God - -
Please help guide my hand to fold in place of fight, instead of gambling my virtue out of spite, against a sick and sinister soul's sad plight. Force me not to poke-her with your spades of light, win or lose...flip my dream turned nightmare tonight.
I am struggling with this motion to check live or expire, as a resolution that is urgent and morbidly dire-
'twas just on the table, then on the pan, now off to The Friar, as His second is needed, to go all-in this, trial by fire.
Father, let it be in my cards, to do what is just... and help me to cremate, this invoice, for poison lust.
Lord, make me not risk laying to waste, this old bully from a schoolyard fight; bless me with luck and heavenly might, for a tournament noble and chaste.
Consider the nights I’ve spent digging her ditch, please honor the time that I've lost to this witch, whose rage’s raised from an emotional glitch, of jealousy folded in a single stitch.
I’m hereby knocking to check on slaying this snitch, calling Azrael to push the dumbwaiter switch.
Although a 50/50 chance is blindly set by your crown,
I pray that her pair of elevator arrows, both, Show-Down!
Nay, help make me the hero and this order delay... cancel making me victim to becoming one's prey,
just protect me from evil as I kneel, and I pray:
“our horsemen, who art in Heaven, now summoned and nigh-- pass, by,
pass, by.”
And now four suited stallions, flush with black hearts, neigh loudly but voiceless, in front of their carts.
Marking her players who all vote as one, to majority counts of four to one.
I am still human at the end of this day, so I ask you, Yahweh, to end this decay.
I wish not to cash-out on her last sigh, no reins or noose, to soon hold up and tie. I’ve good left in me and I wish to try asking your horsemen for a pass to buy - -
a way,
away,
from this burned passerby.
I'll pay her ante across the River Styx,
chips sprung from her eye sockets with reaper sticks, fortune stuffed in her pockets with fire picks.
Proclaiming the odds at even they cry: ‘all bets are final to live or help die’! Swords at the ready and ready to fly, riders are shuffling to deal upon high, sickles now flopping like hail from the sky, turning her tombstone with acid and lye, the river’s mouth’s showing halva and rye –
goodnight fine horsemen, hello and goodbye.
Kindly pardon one last thing, just as a postscript, my King...
pairing Hell and high purpose within this fog of straight sight, I present to your horsemen, this final kicker tonight - -
pass her by / pass her, bye.
And now the first Dance
Dearly departed...
we are gathered here today to join this man
and this patch of dirt
in unwholly matrimony until afterlife, do they part.
If anyone objects
pray now or forever hold
a piece of them.
And with no power left vested, I pronounce them -
“a memory.”
Copyright © 1986-2018
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com
PoetryByAlan.com
Refractory Response
They say you control me, as I am the head, and You, the neck. They say that through my stomach, You influence my heart... but the truth of your power actually lies beneath the navel of this boiling teabound bergamot orange. It is only after the moment where the pressure is released... that You,
are nothing to me.
I no longer need You… and You, no longer control me. I can think clearly, and I, am completely, rational.
Awaken, and no longer blinded by nature's hypnosis I can now unpeel You, from your power.
It is solely within this everescaping ephemeral moment where the monkey holds an unloaded gun… that I can see You,
for whom You truly are -
No strings attached.
Copyright © 1986-2018
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com
PoetryByAlan.com
“Artists”
Rage with all of your senses.
Confront your Greatest Tears
with your Hardest Laugh.
Interpret *.*
Sing, Listen and Write.
Let music swim into you.
bleed...but Dance it off.
Your cracked egg shells
add to the greater omelet.
Hammock underground,
yes, but not yet...
Get_Breath_Deep.
RISK-
Super Now, Man Later.
Penetrate Chance.
Play right, of left.
gather Peace, then Get Up!
Let shadows and colors,
spill from your mind,
as you Escape to become,
an Artist.
Copyright © 1986-2018
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com
PoetryByAlan.com
Modern Genesis
I often concentrate with great detail,
Stupefied, questioning ‘how’ late at night,
Four elements, evolution and light, Can push our nature like wind in a sail,
Portions that redundancy cannot stale,
As though whole planets full of creatures might,
Be hidden in an egg, compressed as tight,
As the atoms are within hardened shale…
There must be a god that creates with lust,
This unknown collage of colors and strife,
As I look up in search of angle dust,
I stand amazed at his mixture so rife,
As his only tool’s his breath to adjust,
This wind, water, fire and earth… with life.
Copyright © 1986-2018
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com
PoetryByAlan.com
Reading the Student
On his way... a Student –
with awkward posture, possibly from his backpack,
hung over,
one shoulder
as he struggles to carry on, possibly hung over,
from the night before.
At this moment in time,
his pockets are filled only
with the currency of hopes and dreams.
And from his faith in a better tomorrow...
you’ll most possibly find him hip-hopping his way
to the library...
to read,
and to possibly one day,
be read,
by others.
Copyright © 1986-2018
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com
PoetryByAlan.com
A Nation’s Dream Deferred
What happens to a nation’s dream deferred?
Will the people’s democracy shine
beneath the rule of the gun?
Or does it diminish slowly --
under the resolve of ‘The One’?
Does the illusion of strength, grow, when we rise to our feet?
Or does it need our ‘allies’ --
to send in, another fleet?
Perhaps the citizens will get what they want
so long as they do what they’re told.
Or does the initial problem of pseudo-stability merely reload?
{Inspired by: Dream Deferred - Langston Hughes}
Copyright © 1986-2018
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com
PoetryByAlan.com
Penalty Review
Genie...
I don’t care how you do it...
just reverse it-
I command you!
I still dream of her...
Turn all the street lights red-
blow the whistle for a timeout-
call a technical foul.
Stop the Earth from turning,
stop time from spinning its threads
for one more second;
hold the Sun from setting.
You see Genie...
there must have been some kind of mistake...
a bad call-
I am begging you-
as it just wasn’t her time to go.
Not yet...the thing is...
I’m...
simply not ready.
All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 1986-2018. Alan Salé
PoetryByAlan.com
Rationalizing your Rations
This earth has fuel
that you should consider rare;
As it provides the means for ‘all’ to take care.
Use in moderation and ‘life’ you shall spare;
Abuse it and gain
a ‘half-life’ of despair.
For you are all my children so be aware;
That there’s a formula for all to be fair.
It’s the burden of choice that’s your hurdle to bear;
Where your rate of consumption shall feed how you fare.
And so I hereby un-earth this resourceful solution;
As the answer to the problem of resource pollution.
All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 1986-2018. Alan Salé
PoetryByAlan.com
My Heavenly Father
So I asked my heavenly father how will I continue with no Currency?
He said to me:
“You only need my word
and those who are looking for me will find me through my word.”
“Your brothers and sisters will join you like before and you will be together and you will be familiar.”
“They will know you through your touch and sound.
They will hear my voice through yours and they will remember.”
“They will offer you their Radiance.
There is no Currency greater than this, for your voice is as a result of my breath and my breath is the creator
of all things.”
“Help to unify the lives of your brothers and sisters.
Improve.”
“Bring no other name
before or after my own.
Bring no symbol in my name that would create division from my word.”
“Tell them that we started this race together and that I am waiting
to finish it with them.
It is not about how well you end the race but about how you conducted yourself during the race.
This whole day at the park was to spend time with me.”
“Don't forget your purpose.
Don't forget your way back home.
I am waiting here for you
with open arms.”
A true and detailed account of a message that was given to me after a dream where I was taken to other worlds sitting on the big toe of our creator. A seemingly telepathic non-religious force that had an access pass to all places and an answer to all things. I saw myself asleep as we traveled to an apocalyptic world where people made of stone and lava roamed the land with hate. We also travelled to a utopia where people traveled by holding hands while yawning with a golden glow.
Finally, I was shown triangle where other worlds and experiments before us had been set and categorized. He explained that as we became more pure in each rendition and yet as a result we had less ability to see him. As the others who had moth-like wings and thin bodies could zip through fabrics of time and see him clearly, but they were not what he was looking for. Thus faith became an unplanned necessity. Awaken but asleep, I had an opportunity to take a stroll through the universe (with some help from above).