Friday, June 05, 2009

Of tongues and usurpers

It's not at all true sometimes;
perceptions conceived by the playful mind;
Succumbing to cancer,
words though fly a million miles...

Hidden behind the veil
Is a crack at the knife...
A drapery of acts;
A share of a thought or two;
All at the tip of a drummer boy's stick...

Plagued by the locust swarm...
Ran on over the edge amidst watchful eyes;
Happy smiles that turn red,
Prowling in the shadows...
Dull blades bent on infecting havoc in the back,
Lurking behind sweet conversations in front...

Claimants simply listen;
Let loose the bolt to hasten the quasar of words;
Untie the knot to let everything pass unnoticed...

Playing along with the scheme;
Rolling the dice for the poker of retribution,
Of which will come sweet...

Usurpers lead on;

Unaware that claimants knew;
Culminates a grin, along with every clue...

Someday, perhaps...
When everything has died down;
Knitting father time;
Until then, should the dove perch;

Lest the truth be told...
Usurper tongues should be gripped in an Atlantean hold...

Jasmin Uy






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