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Poetry

	Patricia Etienne
	PROFILE About me Friends (11) Collections Books (1) Poetry (25) Video poems (5)

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Patricia Etienne, 11 september 2013

* America Remembers *

Simply Tuesday morning, a day just like the ordinary
But to some Lucifer's hearts,
It's planned to be a day in hell
And continues to be a hellish memory to some.

Yeah, America Remembers!
A morning that goes the opposite
When the sun overtaken by cloudiness
And darkness spreads onto her land.

Yeah, America Remembers!
A morning that turns out to be
A deadly viper assassination squad.
That serves thick blood on a plate, and tears in a mug for breakfast.

Yeah, America Remembers!
A morning that rips many families apart.
and hold many hearts in sorrow
And lead many children to the orphan world.

Yeah,9/11/01
America falls onto her knees.
It's as if the sword of Zeus is planted into her heart
Oh she weeps and weeps
The tears that fall from her eyes look like the river of the unknown gods.

Oh terrorists!
You strike my land but I'm not destroyed
You shed my children blood
But most are standing tall and vigilant

You must know
With my torch holding up high
I am who they say I am
My road is illuminating for life to come.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 22 january 2013

Indian women cry “Great St. Essa”

Oh great wisdom Sage of wondrous time

Shine up your great eyes on the women of India as they have been under difficulties

Their land has no place to free and their voice has no strength to cry for mercy

Each day is a struggle like a challenge for a limb to climb up mountains

For you Great Sage, stood against the great Sanhedrin's practices

Your revolutionary actions, had delivered the ultimate chance, and fair choices

That brought by far, women's and children's rights.

Like Mary-Magdalena became sin-free

The Samaritan woman spread the gospel of salvation

The crippled woman who first took steps inside the synagogue

for you broke down the hall of patriarch superiority

your affirmation on behalf of women, had brought The Pharisees to humiliation and shamed

Oh Great Master-avatar!

Why in India a woman is raped every twenty minutes?

Why such adversities on those women ?

Why tears take the place of their glowing eyes?

why sadness takes constant notes in their hearts?

Why such malevolent at large?

If follow your theory by turning the other cheek to the aggressor.

It won't be much hope and

MeditaTION wouldn't be the answer either

For those Indian women cry “Great St. Essa”

You sacrificed to create peace and gender equality.

Let the bell tolls and said “Beware, Brute-Men leave the site of those women for they are sacred and loved!”

Let those unleashed rapist be refrained to normal type of behavior

For legacy of justice reigns, and the fallen souls shall depart in peace.
© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved

number of comments: 3 | rating: 3 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 15 january 2013

The Monopolize Way

With your narcissistic aspects,
How can I grow under your shadow?
Must I always carry a panhandling,
or...
Break
Away?
Either way...
The thought of you give me the fear.
Must I remain passive
so I can be pet around?
Must I act coercively-
Again...
How can I break loose
From this-
Hypochondria form of you?

number of comments: 5 | rating: 2 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 21 april 2012

~So disturb! ~

It’s 6: 35 in the morning
I wake up sweat and breathless
Thoughts pounding my head
The ramblings of my brain
Wanting to come out live through ink
I slip my hand to look for you
Then, instead my hand touches
The folded sheet on the pillow
Damned you!
Damned you!
I slip my hands between my thighs
The early sun set hit my eyes
Through the thin curtain window
Allow my eyes to close
The memory of the beautiful night
Shivers my body, then I get angry
Hear my heart cry
God of misericord
Why must it always have to be this way?
Like a hit and run situation
Like a Doctor’s visit
You come and treat my pain
And then hit the road
Never once have the chance
To wake up cuddle in your arms.
To cry our joys of the night passé
To gaze into each other’s eyes
Share a good morning kiss
Or drink a morning coffee together
Never mind!
O’ ma tête me fait mal
C'est comme une piqûre d`aiguille
ça me fait si mal, si mal
Dans ma tête...
I try to think of something else
Still my thoughts want to
Transcribe on paper and
Here is my endless story (…)
Patricia Etienne

number of comments: 0 | rating: 4 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 20 april 2012

~Humanity Cries Woe~

Gazing upon the rocky grey mountain peaks
Abruptly, particle of rocks avalanche break away
Rush down the surface of the mountain
and shake the ground into bitter disaster
It seems like darkness holds the world hostage

Rush down the surface of the mountain
Like a cat sink its claws into the wall- people hang on the edge
Fighting not to slide down below the cave erosion
Anatomy of fear stares in the eyes of us all
Really no room to talk, humanity is caught in the act of misdeed

Anatomy of fear stares in the eyes of us all
When we are trapped under the cloud's veil
and evil paint-balls spread all over our bodies
Should harsh reality to be tossed in?
What is our reasons and alibis?

Humanity cries for help and attention
What is our reasons and alibis?
We are of different races, ethnicities and creeds- love must not flourish
For you not silence- I must retaliate
For we are not in the same political comfort zone- war must declare

Humanity cries for help and attention
Who to blame and who should we go to for repair?
It's to keepsake, and can't be left in this lucrative scene
We should collaborate, and make amend, but when?.
Humanity cries- look at me, notice me and stare at me!

© 2012 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 25 march 2012

This Poet I Am

Midnight hour sets on the clock

Mother moon, lights up the deep black sky

The ray of light strikes on the surface of my bedroom window

Appears to disturb my sleep cycle

– Meanwhile,

I am tossing and turning unable to find comfort

Alphabetical letters whirled inside my head

Images and shapes throbbing my brain

looking to cluster and birth a meaning.

Under a teeny cylinder candlelight

I oblige to transcribe down my thoughts

Perhaps a poet I come to be?

~~~~

I glimpse down on the paper

Ponderous words exert feelings of discontentment and concern

The muse is coming stronger like a tam tam beat

So words are climbing down as though on the activist dance-hall

– Unbelievable!

They are revolutionise words

In form that pursuit a cause

It seems like my clever in action.

I rebel against my thoughts

I attempt to replace bitter lines with soft sentences

In the end the true rhythm of my heart reveals – A superlative minder

This poet I am

~~~~

Now the candlelight goes out, and

I’m sitting in the dark thinking.

~~~~

Thus, I bump into some difficult tunnels

To hear the voices, to interpret them,

then to feed them accordingly through the mind of the reader and listener.

Not an easy task. Sorry for those who think this way.

– Controversial!

Some depict me as a feminist thinker, a citizen poet--

Others view my approaches as 'A bowl of mixing salad.'

Either one bothers me not

What matters to me is the one life that I touch and make the difference.

There's always one indeed, not to say many

It's the power projected in the pen

The free verse unravel,

and create a piece of evocative writing,

Which is free to revise at any time-- makes me the poet I am.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 21 february 2012

~~The ist and ism discoloration~~

I am the  creation of the higher up

Can't be the specimen of Virgin Mary

Can best be the seed of Aphrodite

Created to please-

Satisfy,

Submissive,

Lure,

Discrete

Strive and grow

(… Enough already)

~*~

If I choose to follow the path of Lady Godiva

To strengthen things-

Gain remission,

Rebuke oppression,

Acknowledge,

And to set up justice whereupon

(… Frankly, I find nothing wrong with that)

~*~

If I choose to follow my meanings in life

To voice concerns

for those in the dungeon,

Keep in silence with a leash

and blind folded with a gipsy veil

(… then, that's great!)

~*~

If I choose to be me!

I bow down to  no fear , just dare

In spites of being a woman

I step on my imperfections

To flaunt my women-ism-

Socially involved

And, an...

(… Go on , don't crack down, please stop it, stop those tears of yours. You are stronger than that, go on, I'm listening)

~*~
Then why must I misconstrue in the  plethora of  the ist and ism characteristics?

Feminist,

lesbianism,

Envy-ism

All called names  by male chauvinist, sexist

who solely perceived Aphrodite's seeds as stupid and worthless.

Stand on the superiority scale

Throwing dragon fire if winning and controlling are not up to their vantages

(… But sweet pea, you sound very upset)

~*~

Unlike the Virgin Mother

I am a modern woman

I put on the red eyes

When I'm bit by snake tongues

Cruel judgmental minds

I wear my trouser and boots to maintain my activities

I hard labor around the clock

For I sustain and cater to my family

I carry my banner up high to denounce  malfeasance

Intimidation is aroused when imply  the ist and ism cycle

The idea behind is to hibernate thoughts

Cripple and crush  women's souls

In spites of all called names

I remain to be me

Whole and concrete

(… You said it all sweet pea, now rest your case!)

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 21 february 2012

`~`the Forbidden Flea`~`

It hurts to feel

When you have a dream

A very funny dream

That is bigger than your thoughts

Than what you can take on

When illusion rises

You feel to take the world by storms

Then limitation stands in your way.

If only she could, she would

She would find a way to defy

What is appeared to be

The scourge of our time

The irrational thing

The forbidden flea

That literally sucks life

And supplies darkness in return

If only she could, she would

She would destroy by rage

This funny pioneer wants to be

The gloom and doom insect

With the ultimate intention

To destroy man kind

With no exception

Nonetheless, she is so very heartbroken

When realize this demon is at its will power

Nobody has yet to come close to its match

In fact she finds it to be so very difficult

To even finding words of motivation

To alleviate its victims' souls

Knowing half of the time

It's just...

But when she looks on the bright side

She takes a very deep breath

Hopeful breath!

Knowing, that we are human, the biggest species among all!

The celestial gift given to us

We will not be defeated by cancer

The dubious insect

The supreme victory is to us!

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 3 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 13 february 2012

The Bogeymen In The Black boots

On this foul terrain

Even the very light blowing wind

Bring the strongest man off balance

Go figure the heavy black boots predators

who spread torture by buckets.

They blow fire with burning pressure

and oppression with no measure;

attempting to meltdown those who are reluctant of their wrongdoings.

Like the no kindest, no heart Apocalypses' laws

Intimidation is ruled to win souls

Rejeanne's father underwent the knife of oppression

The tried to drain off his activist blood

Poor Rejeanne, she witnessed the entire reckless operation,

and when her father’s last breath went flatlining like a candle light.

Her mother escaped through the back wooden window

With little Rejeanne carried on her shoulder

Hours later she fled the country,

and left Rejeanne behind with her Grand-Mama.

Poor child has carried the cross of her time.

She felt short-changed to have lost her father,

and sort of abandoned by her mother.

She shed tears of broken memories;

especially, on father's day same for Mother's day.

Although, her Grand-Mama really tried to act as her parents,

but at times that didn't cut the drill.

She really needed someone to call Mom and Dad and she needed parenting love.

For Rejeanne, being a toddler and life without parents was very upheaval.

The many distressing dreams she always encountered,

Related to the traumatic event she has suffered.

Her nightmares content – the bogeymen in the black boots;

who were trying to break the door open.

Horrific dreams, that she often awoken with her heart pounding from fear.

Through many years Rejeanne spent each day of her life like a massive morn.

She grew into an anxious adult

Nonetheless compassionate...

Still with the long lasting emotional effects of traumatic experienced

© 2012 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 4 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 7 february 2012

`Hatred rules`

Since the ancient time

It has been a constant fight-

Between the two forces

With a profuse imbalance

The small walks on the blade of grass

With the end result of ongoing tears- of anguish;

The big delivers endless corruptions,

And make certain their victims' joy is treason.

A battle of justice versus injustice-

Knowledge debating with ignorance

Prejudice leading towards racism

Eventually proclaim world apartheid.

Oh this chronic fight of agony

Where things are taking a twist

Hopeless marches on the graveyard

It's like bringing knife to gunfire

For the small it's a fight without pod

Since an ant cannot tangle with a giant elephant

The scale has remained imbalance.

Again the sadist with a smile on his face!

© 2012 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

Poetry

* America Remembers *

Indian women cry “Great St. Essa”

The Monopolize Way

~So disturb! ~

~Humanity Cries Woe~

This Poet I Am

~~The ist and ism discoloration~~

`~`the Forbidden Flea`~`

The Bogeymen In The Black boots

`Hatred rules`

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