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Constance Gilmore Poem
Exhaustion drips its weary head
Shrouding me with desolate apparel
A forlorn wardrobe of melancholy blues
Colors of emotional peril.
Indifference holds my body still
Unconcerned with the cold
Distant journeys in my thoughts
Apathy strong in its hold.
Nonchalance a steady companion
Detaching me from reality
Unaroused by what’s in front of me
I’ve lost all sense of vitality.
Inattention stands unyielding
Unwilling to make way for diligence
Insensitivity plants a seed
Growing strong in its militance.
Numbness gnaws away at my spirit
Paralyzed from its greed
Dulled by life’s anesthesia
I lack the passion to be freed.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2022
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Constance Gilmore Poem
Love
Passionate, Patient
Encourages, Uplifts, Captivates
Feelings, Control, Power, Emotions
Hurts, Belittles, Consumes
Dangerous, Burning
Hate
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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Constance Gilmore Poem
The sun kisses my skin with a thousand burning lips,
Making it sensitive beneath my gentle fingertips.
The shade offers no comfort in the miserable heat
I wish there was someplace cool where I can retreat
So I head to the beach where the water is so blue,
Ocean so clear that you can see straight through
Seagulls selfishly screaming “MINE” at everything
Loving the noise that these winged gluttons sing
Sand so soft that my feet sink in and disappear
Children laugh gleefully as they jump off the pier
Waves hit the shore leaving behind thick seaweed
And hermit crabs race back to the water with speed
Beach volleyball games and dogs catching Frisbees
Teenagers flying their kites in the soft, pleasant breeze
Ladies sunbathing while their men apply sunscreen
Laying there peacefully and looking very serene
I’m standing on the beach taking in my surroundings
As the burn from the sun continues its pounding
I run into the water to cool off in the sun’s ire
And the ocean is where I relax from the wicked sun’s fire
Like ice cold lemonade caressing a parched throat
The water refreshes me as I slowly drift afloat
The water kisses my skin with a thousand soothing lips,
Making it silky smooth beneath my gentle fingertips.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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Constance Gilmore Poem
Summer is coming
The angry sun burns my skin
No comfort in shade
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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Constance Gilmore Poem
What came first, the chicken or the egg?
The answer is still relatively unknown.
Which tastes better, the egg or the chicken?
It depends on the person, so really, who knows?
Little baby chickens taken from mother hens
Still wrapped in their little hardened cocoons,
Ignorant to the fact that they are about to die
Slaughtered by plastic forks and silver spoons.
Ol’ poor little unhatched chicken embryos
Bet you didn’t know you’d end up on my plate.
Your parents procreated and made such tasty treats.
Sorry lil’ chickies, you shouldn’t taste so great.
You are so multitalented, you come in many forms:
Hardboiled, poached, over easy, eggs benedict,
An egg salad, an omelet, or have you sunny side up,
Maybe even scrambled for something really quick.
You get me going for the day with you for breakfast;
Have you in the morning to provide my body fuel.
I apologize for eating you before you were able to live.
I sincerely don’t mean to be thoughtless and cruel.
If we should place the blame, it should go to your parents,
To that loud, cocky rooster and that little red hen.
Your taste pales in comparison to the both of them
Because I can eat them over and over and over again.
Sometimes they live long, sometimes they don’t.
Either way, they taste awesome on my plate.
Barbecued, grilled, fried, or on a stick
Boiled, rotisserie, roasted, or baked.
Either way, little chicken, you were born to die
And unfortunately, that is your earthly fate.
Take pleasure in the fact that you are enjoyed
And that my stomach is your final resting place.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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Constance Gilmore Poem
I love you with all of my heart
Forever is not long enough
A masterpiece, my love is art
I love you with all of my heart
My love cannot be torn apart
My love is strong, created tough
I love you with all of my heart
Forever is not long enough.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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Constance Gilmore Poem
I have been hurt, but you have eased my pain.
I have been burned, but you have soothed my anger.
You have given me hope when I've been scared.
You have made me feel safe when I have felt danger.
Where I tend to lack, you pick up the slack.
Where I come up short, you help to compensate.
You have softened my heart of stone and now,
Love resides where there once was hate.
My bitter has become sweetened
And my resentment has become affection.
When I felt the need to be perfect,
You came and loved each imperfection.
Clouds continuously darkened my days
But the sun in you broke through with rays
Of patience, kindness, and selfless ways
So now, the sky is clear, no more grays.
I smile more frequently because I'm so happy.
You have renewed my belief in love.
Thank you for being my better half
And being the man I've always dreamt of.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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Constance Gilmore Poem
I'm alone in a crowded room
Mentally in a world of darkness
Consumed by sadness
Living a life of loneliness.
Why was I chosen?
What did you see in me?
I loved you and trusted you.
My innocence stolen
My youth violated
My childhood taken
My mind confused
As your hands discovered places
I never knew I had
As your lips opened mine
To seek the warmth within
My body betrays me
What is this feeling?
It feels good and it feels wrong.
My silence is loud
My tears are quietly unshed
I am trapped in a deep abyss
With no certain way out
My voice screams
And no one hears me
My subliminal messages are powerful
But no one feels them.
I can't sleep at night
My body is too alert
Waiting for him to come in
Touch me all over, do his dirt.
This man of God
HALLELUJAH, AMEN!
Becomes the spawn of Satan
Be careful, beware!
Night cloaks his perverted actions
And as the sun arises
He's holy again.
I began to hate this Jekyll and Hyde
They become one.
Good and bad
Bad and good...
The lines are unclear.
My posture slumps,
Clothes are oversized
Trying to hide the woman I was becoming
Maybe he would overlook me
If he couldn't see
The obvious
The overt
The ostentatious
But for 2 years
It did not work
And I was left alone,
My voice unheard
My pain not seen.
Writing, my therapy
Diaries, my friends
Dreams become nightmares
Shadows move in the night
They come to me
Fondling my prepubescent ******
Kneading my undeveloped breasts.
The silence is deafening.
I want the morning to come
My tears began to flow
Along the side of the face
And I look down at myself
With the sadness of self-pity
And wonder night after night
After night after night after night
Why me?
Why did you hurt me?
You were my daddy,
Even though you weren't
I loved you as the dad
I never had.
Your temporary pleasure
Is my permanent torture
And the distrust I have
For all things male
Certainly began with you,
Congratulations, take a bow.
Thank you for raping my innocence.
Thank you for abusing my childhood.
Thank you for tainting my spirit.
Thank you for corrupting my womanhood.
Thank you and God bless your perverted soul.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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Constance Gilmore Poem
I wish I had a great poem to write;
Something to inspire or maybe excite.
However, I've come across writer's block.
Thoughts imprisoned, no key for the lock.
Too tired to think of confusing metaphors.
No imagery oozing from my poetic pores.
My mind is blank like tabula rasa;
It's unwelcoming, mi casa es not su casa.
What do I write? What can I say?
Not even free verse is coming my way.
I don't have the energy to make some rhymes.
No brevity, no haiku with minimal lines.
No prose, no epic, no painting a picture.
No interest in various prompts to consider.
My brain's not working, so let me go to bed.
I hope when I wake, I'll have a poem in my head.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2013
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Constance Gilmore Poem
The color of the midnight sky,
I am the color of indigo.
I am the smile after every storm,
I am the 6th color of the rainbow.
I exemplify innate wisdom,
Allow me to be your muse,
Intuitive and understanding,
Mental wealth you can’t refuse.
I am the backdrop for the stars
And the background to the moon.
Look to me, you’ll find spirituality,
A higher power you’ll be in tune.
I symbolize solitude and oneness,
A sort of psychic capability.
A color of strength, a color of depth,
The phenom of self-mastery.
I am indigo, the color of knowledge,
The complexion of self-reflection.
I am indigo, master of personal thoughts,
The color of profound introspection.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2012
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