Best Abandoning Poems
Your true dearest point when you harbored Dear dreams
And then you discover life’s not what it seems
Like abandoning hopes at an age Fresh and Young
Did you have an idea that it’ll last so long
For you left your dear home at only 18
And sent to Iraq at only 19
And been left forever with permanent scars
Even though you shone through with your sweet talent bright
So why did you enter with a 4.0 GPA?
When the Scholarships showered you at a Multitudinous rate
So Bright you could Major in any Subject you wished
And still Financial Aid Mounds till your Graduate Degree
So what did you think of that Beautiful Voice?
If you entered in Youth at least College Choir was a choice
Now Stubborn Hard winds stole most of the Treasure
And the New,Mature Life Obliterated your Thoughts of Such Pleausure
So what did you think of the Vagabound Life?
While you prized poetry collection on the shelf gathered dust
One which some though very mature, others overly ideal
Therefore what crossed Your Mind when you Witnessed the Real?
Did the snobbish streak strike you in diverse circumstance?
Did you feel they were commoners and you better than best?
With the dear loving members holding Fancy Degrees
And did you look forward to the end of ordeal?
And while at boot camp did you attempt to contain
Your own disillusionment and a deep poignant stain
At that tender age did you still fight your tears?
All the while duty called you to conquer much greater fears
All this Strain and Attack plagued you with horrible Nightmares
Not to Mention it gave you the disorder of stress
Yet the terrors continued for seven long years
For you definitely felt life to you wasn’t fair
Even though you gave Your all for hard won GI Bill
Did ever hold thoughts that this path’d be so Grim?
Though the dear teaching program greeted you with open arms
P’haps you had to abandon it due to Inner Snob
And continue life of horrors begun
All this adversity gave you the outlook glum
And your Engulfing eyes look Perpetually lost
The once Muscular Frame to a—Bare shadow gone
I
Practising something
Winning takes thinking
Like the world
Values curtailed, curled
II
Add anonymity
Online carefree community
Some will begin games
Not play; hope you go away
Courtesy questioned; charged with abandonment
Social contract corrected less fast (for content)
III
We play games
For variety, virtual community
Go everywhere, in His Peace, Shalom
Try always, to live your values, decorum
Yet, what shall one do? Use BLOCK!
ONLINE, we are unlikely to take stock
So play to see, as guest, good sport
Be Wise, but more, Be A Good Sport. The social - media editors overdo little problems ... I understand the tough balancing act. Just had these thoughts 1-2 years ago, when I played almost daily (CandyCrush & online chess).
She wears her pain like a stole of pure glass
The glinting fabric distracting from
Penetrating shards snarling beneath it.
She struts with agonizing precision
Portraying an ease she never feels
A carelessness born of sensing too much.
As the torment crescendos, fevered pitch
Assaulted from a new direction:
“Friends” who know this will pass, another come.
Sparkling eyes and a painted-on smile
Tears she can’t shed lest her public mask
Melt like wax left in the attic too long.
Normally she peals off the stole at night
Letting the loss ooze from the holes left,
Sobbing, desperate for sleep that can’t come.
Tonight she hugs it tight, ripping her flesh
She can almost see her broken heart
Merging with the red water in the tub.
Pain flies softly away on her last breath.
June 25, 2018
On the banks of your life
Doubt fixing you offshore
A gripping beast never quits feeding
On dreams hungry for more
To ask yourself questions
Are they answers you know
Always precipitously trying to learn
You justify with the flow
Will you see your opening
Pushing your given chance
Do the beasts raptly glower into you
Or escape a second glance
Whenever you travel alone
How will you pull through
Who has mind to deftly prognosticate
Just what a beast will do
Seeing beyond your corner
Most importantly learning
You discover the ideas of everything
What above life may bring
abandoning
all those who loved him
~ choosing the bottle
posted on November 8, 2018
Down, down the known street where
the quite evening lying down, my legs took me a walk
Sending the sun to west, something that street holding
for me.
Little, little lonely voices' hands knocking my ears
from where
tied my steps with rope pulling toward them.
Under a tree, a mere brown box.
Under the mortal sin, placed the box of abandonment who.
Stygian, stygian dirt on their white furs as
longing woken on their red eyes for their mother.
The hunt of hungriness befell their tums how long
Whipped in thirstiness, the begging voices of two little kittens
someone to be their saviour.
I found inside the box of abandonment.
Wanderer, the wanderer hiding eight hundred rivers
in its rucksack.
On that day, the wanderer unseen stopping by that street.
Do has a lot empathy in the thunderous wanderer' rucksack,
don't want to give the kittens cold trembling.
Tight, tightly their voices must have grabbed
knobs of unclosed ears passing by that street.
When I was about to carry the box of abandonment
to home, they came. Two unfamiliar girls.
The box of abandonment on their hand,
they put.
To be unfold in their paths,
blessings waiting for them.
Bigger their sympathy's footmark upon their foot
What that street holding, I saw.
Dylan got bitten
hard by fame
and though wounded
continues to tour
A thundering
majesty
in makeup and veils
jesters by the score
Divorced from
his wandering
a pilgrim of dreams
the past too great a cost
A caricature
of genius gone
eyes clouded over
—Camelot lost
(The New Room: June, 2023)