Birds the word

River spelled backwards is revir
(like revere your river)
water in what nurtures
the sure pure fervor of scandalous shimmers reflected in summers
natural systems don’t count by the numbers
style of the wildest flowers

the birds whip as they swoosh
landing on branch lines
loose handling in mid stride
Glide flying guides who prefer the outside
making a tortured cat cry
nest building from twigs and twine
some fought back when the hawk attacked
some come even more tightly packed, together
a mirage the size of clouds in bad weather
creatures like this
swim in bird baths of leisure pure as happiness
don’t even mind them chirping
The Palace of Rhymes is learning when they rest
the birds musicianship

We imitate their calls, observe with bernoculers
the guardians of the yard

Ending points

The last day off  before work
the last cigarette smashed in the dirt
the end of pain and hurt
the finishing line of thresholds staying alert
the end of a meal with dessert
longer goodbyes and more time to flirt

the ending points start new beginnings
clear the grass and weeds so the ground can be breathing
planting love time bombs that will be older than your mom
so her grand children can lay on the lawn
under these plants are relics of civilizations and different organisms
The turmoil of a slick oily situation
Wars fought for erecting a flag on another’s nation
droughts to famine to civil wars to displacement
the poor cannot afford their mass incarceration

When we finished starting our own radio station
The last night of our cyphers appearance
the last emcee to make it the clearest
the mask of efficiency in a Capitalist’s fist
the path to enlightenment has no known conclusion existing
confusion at it’s turns is what makes it interesting

The ending points start new beginnings
Graduating probation, a university’s education, and an indoctrination
into emancipatory thought provoking discussions
the next chapter is writing the reading’s interpretation
Fighting for more articulation of non-freedoms
to question

The Q and A did not stay for very long
as the orator took time giving his points before he was gone

poetry freestyle 23

Discerning what he learned from what was internalized
written down sounds of codified expression solidified in truth that doesn’t hide

Why try for music without the beat?
the Mystic poet points instead of to the sky, to his feet
galaxies of dirt to mud to concrete
to rhythms to words
to curbs that don’t sleep until everything is heard
the birds recklessly fly hazardously in close public eye
while cool cats casually cry until their day is not denied
ready leap
spaghetti and beef
the dinner of family was more important than what he eats
growth of the enormous growing importance
an ending of bitter hindrances that have been taught to kids
the lid is opened, information has spoken
granting freedom a token for two cents
ever since we saw benevolence in the presence of defeated negligence
whence the sum of inclination took over more spots & locations
the pots stay hot when we are cooking in the kitchen
send the lasting lyrics of light to the sun set in its plight
been missing for a quarter moon’s turn in rotation
tomorrow is fasting in divine revelation.

Writers searched the poets’ handbook for suggestions
brevity ain’t easy
protection isn’t a possibility with intellectual theft, treason and bigotry
who are the Idols and are they worth following?
spectacles aren’t always exciting/frightening/or educating
usually, their mostly advertising for the commodity pushing

The Palace of Rhymes by John Tabrizi
says stop branding 😉
Irony is fitting if you have the lungs to laugh
growing a crony capitalist’s mustache in a flash
the Ode to our times of past
Go Flow and crash like river water to a stone’s splash
rowing a boat with no mast no task or direction
away from home but always in memories of recollection
so though thought was caught on the tongues of voice
we know we might not show our true intentions of choice
the in-betweens from rows and columns can be seen
the hoisted beams of dreams rejoicing

Celebration upon death

Maya Angelo has died
lets celebrate her life as proof that truth has survived
“I woke up this morning with my ^ eyes on Maya

I woke up this morning with my < eyes^> on Maya

I woke up this morning with my >eyes^< on Maya

Gonna resist, gonna love,
gonna resisissisisisis like herrrr”.

Dear sister, your roots grow deeper than oil wells
we know well that they play where you dwell
oh child, we wondered if you would stay for a while
listening and reading the stories from books in a pile
serene rivers waters and brooks took us farther, faster
miles in minutes of cooking that homemade recipe
chapters of written masters translated through spoken oratory
the benches and raftars occupied with fixed attention like a jury
One of the most beloved poets of the 21st century

“let’s play one of her songs at the festival when we are camping”
At the celebration upon death we will be dancing

the reed flute plays in a key of C

For that girl that loves freedom
Your more powerful with a voice than a gun
rising like a hawk or eagle towards the sun
She’s a combination of faith and reason
with no happy medium when it comes to oppression
her opinions are known without guessing
Ask and you shall receive the harmonic melody
she would bask and then arise to leave beatific stories
more for how she   waited    into the delivery
waded through mud and mortar stone hallways and alleys
Faded to a blue hue on walls like paintings

For that girl that loves freedom
to meet a boy that loves justice
is just this kind of mix for the continuum that exists
spun like a disc,  fun dancing with hips, some whisper with their lips
one could see the the eventually family
birthing a child named Equality

who destroyed the imbalance and brought peace among much violence.
Who deployed the troops and tanks by having bought representatives by the rank?
Organized farmers, factory workers, and food service servers (even big data machine servers)
changed the training of a game not worth playing the same,
letting freedom ring
makes people feel the things of joy, truth and pain
as the chapters of life are written every night
I prefer the mornings with the sun shining it’s light

For that child named Equality
your wildest claim is having a beautiful mane of ideology
Changing the way we view our environment and ecology
the underlying truthful fruits we are picking are to feed our youth
the growing continues in cycles
tree to seed, seed to tree
the reed flute plays  in a key of C