I'm Done

It’s a business,

Done with finesse,

Through giving happiness, though,

Only to the self, and to you,

Quite a lot, not few,

Standing, in the lines,

Reading the signs,

And returning, without,

A glimpse, a sight,

Of His might, in the light,

Of the night, shining,

And whining, of the wait too long,

I guess you just aren’t that strong.

It’s a tactic,

To make people frantic,

Using the panic,

Of the manic, people,

Who stand on the steeple,

We also worship the peepal,

But I’m done, there wasn’t no fun,

In the run, or in this rhyme,

And I’ll cut short, as there’s no time,

But there’s lime, damn,

That went with ham,

Now I wanna curse,

So I’ll shift to free verse,

Rather you get a nurse,

For me, not you.

Idol, not idle, they say,

Standing firm, upright,

Gaudily, not godly,

An enterprise, a machine,

To earn, to print, reds and greens,

And those signatures,

The ink fresh, gleaming,

And He’s shimmering,

Not screaming, or saying,

A word, as they sell, Him,

To us, a name,

That should have begun with g,

Or f, fame, I meant game,

Played alone, not together,

As we pray, and so do they,

Just an e going in, prey.

I stood, and understood,

The fact, the truth,

The real meaning,

Of life, of God,

Of people, of minds,

Of thoughts, of dreams,

Of wishes, of needs,

Of Him, of His presence,

As it dawned, first light,

And my eyes went to the skies,

Hands raised, I knew,

It was Him, in me,

In you, in them all,

In the soul, He’s not one, sole,

That has an o,

Saying it all, clear,

Realization, insight,

Well, I’m done.

A story, a trial,

An experience,

An attempt, new,

Destroying perception,

I’m standing, and smiling,

So is He,

Above us, somewhere,

He’s there, I know,

For me, for you,

For us all,

But I know,

I’m done.

Miss Trust

I’ve begun to rhyme, again,

This time, it’s true, and not in vain,

The clock’s chimes, in the back,

We both got nothing to gain,

‘Cept the pain, which we can’t tame,

‘Cause I felt it, you didn’t, so we ain’t the same,

Now this was lame, but,

That’s what happens in the real trust game.

I’d thought you a friend, till the end,

But you couldn’t defend, the trust, you got,

So you did offend, me, too much not,

A bit, a tad, I’m glad, you did,

Right now, I know, you truly,

Your act showed clearly,

No tact, merely,

A scale to know how good you were,

But you surely were a jer-k.

It was fine, one moment,

Spoiled it all, and made me resent,

And repent, the idea, to trust, you,

A figment, of the imagination,

An element, of happiness, the smiles,

You brought, and taught, me, a lot,

Even this time, you did teach,

Something, everything,

And showed me I knew nothing,

About this feeling, and now,

I’m not trusting, you,

Me, or anyone else, too,

Oh yes, I’m done,

And I’m telling you, it wasn’t fun.

Award Night

Last time it was about success,

And this style is being used in excess,

But I’m not going to change this now,

‘cause I don’t know to write it how,

Else, or it might sound like dogs barking, bow,

And you won’t say wow,

I’ll just begin, or I’ll be hit and all I’ll say will be ow!

Award it is decorating my wall,

Waiting for my turn, for them to call,

To the front of the hall, shining, standing tall,

Been some time since I held a doll,

But they still call me kid,

In a bid to get rid, of me,

But I’m with The K-Factor, that’s my name,

Writing is my sector, and it aint a game,

But the award ain’t coming,

‘cause I’m running, away,

Words rhyming in a try at rapping,

Between my napping,

And I say I don’t deserve it.

There’s others hiding, in plain sight,

Working, through the night,

Earning every penny, for a bite,

Kids studying, in the streetlight,

And some racing with guns, to fight,

To protect from harm,

To maintain the calm,

On the streets even during the storm,

So I guess I’m right,

To say I don’t deserve this tonight,

With the examples I cite.

The postman, the salesman,

Walking forever,

Army, navy, air force, policeman,

Resting never,

Just to keep the nation going,

On and on, whenever,

Teachers teaching, light of education spreading,

Maids cleaning, as we keep polluting,

Farmers farming, be it sun or rain, feeding,

As we just keep eating,

Now do you agree, or am I just bleating.

It’s ‘cause of them doing their bit,

That we’re fit, and our homes are lit,

And we’re smiling, as they run, not having fun,

With their kit, in the mud,

And some giving the light to the new bud,

The future, as we just sit,

Choosing words, I wouldn’t call that wit,

Well, that just fit, a repeated rhyme,

Is that a crime, I guess not,

I don’t care a dime, if you eat lime,

Or thyme, well I just got hungry,

And I’m ending, and then sending, this,

Not bending, through the blog,

So it doesn’t clog, and I can hog,

With the song, moving my head to the beat, nod,

And that piece of metal comes, award,

Not really, no.

This post is written for Project 365’s Open to all Prompt for today.

Success

An emotion, a notion,

A feeling of happiness, a condition,

Super-position, of two plusses,

At the top, of the world, and inclusion,

No exclusion from nothing, completion,

And I’m facing addiction,

To the words, not fiction,

And I’m trying to make rap, construction,

With a smile on my face, decoration,

Well, that’s success.

And then success, is winning,

Something, more than nothing,

Like everything, and I’m not kidding,

Or making, fun, this time round,

‘cause success is a feeling,

Not described, by words, dancing,

Or creating, a meaning, to a verse,

This verse, any verse,

Or giving, or gaining, obtaining, applause,

From people after reading, no,

That ain’t success ‘cause,

That didn’t have no learning.

Success, meanwhile,

Is about the smile,

Which goes on for a mile,

Plastered, from one ear to the other,

Or did I mean year, well that was some guile,

To rhyme, with style,

Like RDJ, in Sherlock, by Doyle,

That was bad, but I’m not mad,

To end without having some fun,

So yes I’m not done,

And there’s one to go, but expect none.

Success, a figure?

Which just gets bigger,

From the bottom to the top,

And I’m not a digger,

To go down, and now I ain’t rhyming,

And there’s a frown, on my face,

Where’s success hiding, unseen,

So should I drown,

‘cause there isn’t a crown,

On my head, nod you don’t,

If you can’t clap, or applaud,

But I’m not a king, ‘cause I can’t rule,

Well I’m a fool, but no,

I’d rather be a God, than be a king,

Now that’d be some success.

This post has been written for Project 365’s Open Prompt for the day.