Best Absentminded Poems
I am here but only briefly,
a believer in today, tomorrow
and ever after. I am a blustery wind
shaking the foundation and a gentle
breeze rustling the leaves.
I am an observer of the beautiful,
graceful, awkward and absurd,
feeling like a spy amongst
voices and visions, kinetic energy,
filling the spaces between footsteps
and the void between us.
I am an over thinker, one woman,
always wondering, waiting
for the rain on a sunny day.
I often remind myself:
I am not the center of this world or any other.
Still, I must find my place even when
circumstances change. I do not like change.
Like a sturdy oak, I am rooted and earthy,
but sometimes…I want to spread my wings
and land on a rugged mountaintop.
I am a rock star yearning to ramble
from city to city, finding solace
in a sea of faces. Oh, to just get lost in the
music and crowds would be sublime!
I am passionate on the inside,
reserved on the outside –
complex in all my contradictions -
a broken child with shattered dreams
yet I still find hope in each sunrise and
peace with each sunset.
I am always searching for more time,
just one stolen moment to take a deep breath.
I am forgiving and want to be forgiven.
I am a nurturing mother.
My sons are my reason to get out of bed
when I’d rather hideaway.
My sons are my joy (both scream
for me right now).
I am a juggler, trying to keep
all my balls in the air, and also
absentminded for obvious reasons.
I am a woman who loves to be loved –
complex in all my contradictions.
I am not that different than you.
We all just want to feel connected.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders for Frank Herrera’s I Am Contest, 11/5/14
Your e-mail engraves a smile while opening its contents.
I wanted to reply, to share a thought,
but my daughter reminds me during that curiosity,
an obligation to buy new shoes.
Being careful not to lose this thought in the pocket where I found my keys,
I placed it with a melody, a familiar whistle on tongue tip.
She with I weave like a zipper into traffic talk about school, friends, photographs
we found ourselves still framed on 6th and G.
Placing her hand in mine with careful grip,
she stops in time to save a purple flower called moment-
forged loneliness- alone in the parched concrete seam.
Placed it in my shirt. Seemingly protected by a giggle she looks for shoes;
She is only thirteen, tomorrow she will be sixteen
maybe laying in her bed with a realized
pain of the first kiss placed with ruse. Not today.
Today, we drove home foolishly to the radio,
as your thought is misplaced from absentminded lips.
We pull into the driveway. She kisses my cheek
within a single brush stoke of innocence;
suddenly redandblue skyandsun understand the simplicity
of the single purple flower (that replaced your reply,
When dinning out in a restaurant there are things you should not do!
Please use the napkins that have been provided not the edge of the table cloth
while pretending to be absentminded and leaning lopsided
If your roll flies of the table politely say whoops or even oops will do
as long as you pick it up so someone else doesn't ski doo
When your belly is a little larger and is sitting on your plate
as you try to investigate what happen to your plate
sit further back or bring your own crate
While eating your delicious dinner you proceed to pick your nose
explaining to your guest a fly flew up your hole
when you know this isn't so
Now as for gas goes you feel your stomach start to rumble and roll
seeking a way out below
whether it's loud, quite, or a little tweak it's definitely going to stink
If you feel a burp coming on leaving a taste in your mouth
like that of a derriere
keep your mouth closed so nobody else has to wave and swear
Now ladies with the bright red lip stick who feel you have to rub
your teeth with your fingers searching for those sneaky food invaders
do it in the bathroom and you can even use your tweezers
When dinning out without a doubt good hygiene is a must
please at stay home if your hair is so greasy it's started to gather dust
While slurping can be a sign of good taste
it's not if you are eating in haste and half of the food is on your face.
So please show some couth when dining out!
T Reams 4/4/2015
A- My Letter- Aye
Why- Y? No- A
This first letter of the Alphabet
Seems so simple, yet so complex
Explains my brains, history and mystery
Some makes sense, same profound, some slippery,
some confused and, At times blistery
A- My name. Aquarius – my sign, no shame
I live in Awe of Antiquity – add a small Army to my Acclaim
I claim no fame- just the American way.
Awe in so many things- simple praise to the “A”-
May I start with Ale and Apes- not together mind you
Ale was my way- red or blonde- I'd pack it away
Apes were my salvation from Ale- to Ax my Aloof decay-
Animals became my Attraction
my Abstract Ambition to Ardent – AGAPE-
Alumni to personal escape-
Ankh was a chosen forever symbol for Avenging Ambition
Of Allegiance and Appreciation
An Absentminded Argument for my own Awe
Defending it was a guffaw.
A stronghold of an Ablazed Angels Amour-
Belief's Anchored Ardor.
Art Aspired from hundred of Acres of Aquatic life
Appreciated by husband and wife
Acoustic strings ring in the night
Alight passions of two Aquarians hearts, desire
and playful sprites.
A storm is brewing.
Heavy water laden clouds rise thickly,
the darkening sun plunges quickly
behind deep purple mountains,
hiding the gentle moonlight
that normally lights my erratic way.
I meander absentminded
around a maze of mountain paths,
suffering a terrible purgatory.
For the storm is raging outside and inside of me.
Outside electric serpents flash across the dark skies.
Inside is an aching heart of old desires.
No tears flow as I think of you.
Foul fog screens my feelings,
suffocates righteous repentance,
murders my murky sinful soul.
Deep inside me
emotions mingle, then surge,
and dissipate in thin air.
By midnight the summer storm
has already well and truly broken.
Ophidian lightning blaze in the dark skies,
Crashing thunder booms and echoes.
Rain falls in heavy drops.
I am well and truly soaked.
Water, the sign of redemption enslaves me,
but I am not baptized anew,
instead I wallow in self pity.
There is no hope for me,
or is there? Let the storm decide!
Offerings all-inclusively controlled,
consummating thirst's affectations
eliciting truth's darkly responsive swallow
of pretenses pseudo-poetic poison,
flamboyantly feverish flavors from
gingered confections to Puffer fish toxins,
testing temperature's comfort zones
artless surrender of lucidity's aesthetic
yielded in winters' disenchantment - -
discontented, smugly wrapped
in tissue paper sweater's passion,
fumes of moonlit intoxication's sips
mid earthy disillusionment ticking,
ventured to inhale magical heady elixirs
within fusions of distorted disdain,
glass was neither half of any equation
merely a containment for elusive sunrises
and hourglass sand trickling down on
timely castles built betwixt skies' hallucinations,
sucking life downhill like an absentminded cool trip
drunken in fury's quenched neurotic afterthought
Today I dropped words
between cracks in the pavement:
half-written screenplays.
My muse, a cappuccino,
conjures romance while I sip.
~Absentminded Brent~
(Rhyme)
When somebody looks for him,
they find that he's never there.
He's the kid that people never see
In the classroom, emptied, they find his chair.
When the teachers run the list of names,
They call out, in fact, for Brent.
But Brent he's always full of games,
He just came in and just went.
Who knows! to someplace no one knows,
So they miss him all the time.
He's so often in the come and go,
or wasn't there at all, anytime.
When he's at home his parents call him,
but Absentminded Brent, he's someplace else.
He's either fighting with Big Jim,
or bullying and scarying little Kim.
He hides anywhere and everywhere,
of his own shadow he's so very scared.
So he goes to his very secret place,
and prays nobody will find him there.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004
January.09.2016
(woman) You've missed the first and last day of memory,
Absentminded completely.
(man) Being lull is an instinct you'll never acquire.
(woman) Being what, never mind you can't remember.
(man) How can I forget what you've found.
You're like an insect exploring every crevasse of my core.
(woman) The allure with you has gone dysfunctional, calling me a bug.
(man) Yeah that's right, dried flowers lack essence.
(woman) Me dry I am lustrous.
(man) Yeah ok
(woman) Lets stop this one, two step on my shoe game.
I'm still at awe whenever you're around.
(man) Ok I prefer you and you prefer me
Their is no ultimatum.
UNFORGIVABLE
Hey Joseph May my dear Souper and poet,
I’d pressed the send button before I saw it.
Three special friends I left out,
Please believe me Caren, Regina without any doubt,
Just an absentminded, dreamy poet, you must know it.
Under the feet of heartless passersby, a name no one knows
where from, rolling along the path blood-stained; the name
wounded from time after time is kicked and trampled
by the absentminded strollers drifting along the way
no one cares where it leads to
the name, if only not returned,
may still be lingering in the ears of the lover
as a sweet nothing; the name still remains in the heart of lover
who wanders in the wilderness calling and crying from irresistible yearning;
the lover, however, grew tired at last,
and became a wondering name itself,
it comes to the bank of the river Cocytus dragging its feet,
wails, and throws itself in the river and becomes a tear drop
in the end.
The tear drop carried by the Cocytus’ water
becomes the name that is downright ignored
now tossing around in the field cruelly treated without justice.
Although I have come this far fumbling a difficult way,
grasping the trying path, I hear no whisper my darling
once echoed softly in my ears; the name covered in bumps
and bruises rolling on the field holding her deeply missed
sweet and tender whisper in her bosom
the poor name, it would never been rather happier
if it threw itself into the Lethe and drifted away
in the water of oblivion.
Out on the field,theres no teams
My only guess is I'm late
The days to far gone to be early
Come to find out, it's just the wrong date
Just a lone star in the night
With no thoughts to ponder
And no plans for the light
Of myself I'm no fonder
Not sure what I've done
Or sure I want to know
I've forgotten why I asked
Forgot which way to go
As I'm saddened by my failures
Delighted by my gains
Intensely absentminded
Devoid of all my pains
PALLANES 09/16/19
Some men keep real cool at gunpoint
Having been swimming in the company of the military,
The nozzles of guns surveying in moments solitary:
Witnesses to soldiers dipping their fingers in wallets
For the purchase of that spitting out the bullets.
Some men keep grinning at gunpoint,
Because at them pistols have been pointed many times
And no ugly story followed the smiles;
It shall always be a nice evening story by firesides.
Some men choose to be absentminded at gunpoint,
When sure they are that the thing will happen
And already glimpse the bullet their brains open:
One’s best bet to start visualizing the after- life
forgetting everything including one’s wife.
Man can be cynical at gunpoint,
When fixated his mind is upon a notion
Whose abandonment would cost him a demotion
The watchword of unwavering Arabs
Between the Healthy and the On-Tabs .
But should any man be unmanned at gunpoint
Following a menacing loosening of the thing’s safety catch
Behind a door complete with a latch
A hang man’s look on the faces of the Gang
Thinking of nothing else but the loud bang.
Lessons were over
But there was no sight of mother
Decided to wait for a while
However patience fell victim to guile
Walking down the hill
My body consumed by chill
I hoped that the car would unexpectedly appear
To ease my mounting fear
Saw many cars pass on the main
Not one the blue Laser, leaving me on a frame
Encountered three beings on my roam
Each one assuring me that they would safely take me home
That they did
But inside there was a catch that hid
Gran greeted me at the entrance
Expressing that she did not sense mother’s fragrance
Half an hour later
Mother entered like a gator
Thinking the excitement had subsided
Another detail was confided
Feeling confused and remorseful
Couldn’t this be enough to subdue the forceful?
Out came the leather
The ordeal that transpired certainly made me wiser.
rock hard ribbons string
cracking cobbled roads
hoards harmonize
with hidden steel chains
fractured silver mirrors reflect
an absentminded people
and ambivalence marches through
cloaked the anonymous labor
along grey stone city streets
cross crumbling avenues
broken beleaguered faces
the blind fail to grasp
the revolving refugee
plodding shadows darken
evaporate as mist
vanishing in the night
the rage inside is self-contained
as throngs of travelers pass
vistas without a view
silent veiled silhouettes
shadows without voice
deny the passerby
wanders now gypsies
hobble home again
to return
from where they come, amen
February 20, 2020
B1210H