Poetry Blog by Clarke

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Clarke on the well (Mon, 22 Apr 2019 07:38 am)

Marie Alyza on the well (Sun, 21 Apr 2019 11:08 pm)

Clarke on Augustus (Thu, 11 Apr 2019 11:32 am)

Dominic James on Augustus (Wed, 20 Mar 2019 09:01 am)

Heart of Lead on Augustus (Mon, 18 Mar 2019 06:30 pm)

Hazel ettridge on On love and self-efficacy (Mon, 18 Mar 2019 02:59 pm)

Hazel ettridge on Augustus (Mon, 18 Mar 2019 02:53 pm)

Clarke on On love and self-efficacy (Mon, 18 Mar 2019 10:49 am)

Hannah Collins on On love and self-efficacy (Sun, 17 Mar 2019 02:38 pm)

lisa donohoe on 曲折 (Thu, 17 Jan 2019 02:37 pm)

the well

There is a type of loss that embodies the feeling of standing still while everything around you is in motion.

This kind of loss stalks memories and preys on helpless moments of joy like a stealthy predator.

It is a cup of sand for a thirst so unbearable;

A full-body dizziness,

Nausea so intense that it hurts.

It is an unnatural fear that paralyzes one’s existence.

There is a loss...

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Ode to Harleen

The mind tends to fear what it does not understand,

And I have seen the laws of nature bend to your will.

I have seen the impossible manifest itself into reality at your command.

I have watched the currents of oceans retreat as you approached their shores.

I have seen rock turned to dust at your touch,

And brush set ablaze at a single glance.

I observed these phenomena, inconceiv...

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Augustus

My father used to drink Heineken.

Naturally, when I was old enough to drink, I too drank Heineken.

He used to smoke cigarettes, though he hid this addiction well.

So, when I was old enough to understand that this caused his death,

I vowed to never pick one up.

He would always give to beggars and assist strangers in need,

Even when he knew that it might be to the detriment of his ...

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On love and self-efficacy

I used to believe that when it comes to love and hate, right and wrong, good and evil; the notions were night and day.

And though I still believe that there are very clear distinctions between each pair of opposing ideas, I have begun to question such simple binaries.

Our progenitors committed acts of violence and hatred that we still commit today.

For that reason, I pray evil isn’t conge...

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曲折

Guide me through the shoals of this place.

Take me by my hand and protect me from the truth.

Hide me from the hurtful things veiled by the delicacy of naivety and youth.

Save me from learned helplessness, save me from disgrace.

In these times, as Byzantine as German bureaucracy,

Make life simple for me.

With your reassurances, rid me of my anxieties and doubts.

Place your hand...

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Still

The nooses are still around our necks.

We are still shackled and bound by chains.

Our backs are still bare.

And the smell of rotting flesh still lingers in the humid, midnight air.

We are still born as gods and goddesses.

Yet the demons of our past still haunt us.

Our bodies are still weathered and hardened by the harsh elements of our predicaments.

Still used on this hemisphe...

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The title of a decent poem

Do not judge me for my actions.

Do not chide me for my mistakes.

Do not jeer at my defeat.

Do not cheer at my frustrations.

Do not laugh at my heartache.

For every chink in my armor and for every new battle scar,

comes with it a reinvigorated fervor to soar beyond what were once thought to be peaks.

So do not pave where I have misstepped with your 'I told you sos' and 'you'll ...

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Filial piety

O! Brother where art thou? Sister, you’ve been slain.

I have rummaged through the heaps of lifeless bodies, searching in vain.

O! Brother, where art thou? I barely remember your name.

Brother, brother, o brother, where art thou?

Can’t you hear my pain?

I swore to mother and father that I would protect you, I have failed them and you, yet again.

Brother, brother, brother where art...

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Makings

Nine of them garnered relevance.

Two of them found 'truth'.

Three of them found fame and fortune.

One of them posed questions and challenged the status quo.

One opined that one can never find purpose without faith.

Two of them gave way to nihilism.

And so the nonet intoned in unison; paeans of varying tenors.

Yet each was heared and each gained followers,

who practiced ritu...

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Reckoning

Oft, the winds blow;

Twice fell'd to lust.

Last, the ardor of doting lovers is quell'd with contempt.

Once, the pain of the past brings new beginnings.

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Pomelo

I remember a time when I used to make kites and slingshots.

I would fly those kites on windy days, and hunt birds with my slingshots.

I would run shirtless and barefoot under the beating sun.

Somewhere, that boy is still running.

Somewhere, he is still innocent and inundated with the joys of flying kites

and hunting birds with his slingshots.

That boy will never die.

He will n...

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