Best Availing Poems
Sometimes a day just like any other
That began or started carrying
forward all of yesterday's woes
into yet another
Can sometimes just end up availing
that sinking feeling in the pit of one's
stomach
Into something that you haven't felt
in so long it comes across as totally
foreign
And simply all that is one left feeling
half ok which at this current point in
time may be as good as it possibly gets
And it doesn't cost and I am sure giving
it leaves neither party with anything lost
or at all worse off
And what today Jenna gave me may
well be the most precious and important
gift of all if you indeed like me find yourself
flailing and lost
And that my friend is someone else's
time else's time they are willing to
give up and spend with you and engage
So thank you Jenna for the pleasure of
your company this evening kind support
and words of encouragement
Because honestly even I didn't realize
just how down in fact I actually was
Until after speaking with you and I am
not to proud to admit i have very little
faith and love for life at the moment
And as this is my only form and outlet
of cathartic expression and release
Tonight I find myself in a much better
place and feel somewhat at peace
So once again thank you Jenna
I am much obliged and appreciative
indeed
For both your kind words of support
and your most precious valuable time
You've seen me by a million names,
You've read all about my pain,
but do you understand me? Do you know who I really am?
My head is pounding slightly,
Sometimes I lose my eyesight,
my body likes to destroy me. It doesn't much care who I am.
My tears slide down my cheeks,
my knees are actin pretty weak,
but do you really know me?
My home life is a mess,
I fall in love deeply and get depressed,
I speak in flowing words as if everything were nature,
My eyes are ever changing, untrusting and availing,
leading me down whatever path I must,
I've been a broken doll,
I've been a caged animal,
A million different things,
But do you really know me
Im faceless, Ever changing in your dreams
That cancer has ravaged my family, it is true
My mom first with melanoma at age forty-two,
Bone cancer took my Uncle Cladie for a ride
Until the pain caused him to commit suicide,
My dad lost his battle to non-Hodgkins lymphoma
Then, my wife Deb succumbed to a rare carcinoma.
I believe most forms of cancer we can prevent
Doctors say our lifestyles can cause us to present,
Not availing ourselves of many self-cancer tests
While ingesting carcinogens and being stressed,
Using tobacco products like there is no tomorrow
Will sooner or later cause us more than sorrow.
If one of your close relatives died from the disease
It’s a warning signal you cannot do as you please
Eat nutritious foods, exercise, get plenty of rest
The least to be said is doing your dead-level best
To maintain a healthy lifestyle with a regular check
Do not say, “We’re all going to die—what the heck!”
Yes, it is true, we are all going to die…someday
Experiencing the suffering from cancer, I can say,
Leads me to believe there is a much better way
So, heed the advice I am sharing with you today,
Believe me, my friend, tobacco use is not okay.
Please, do not let a frivolous habit make you pay!
FIRST PLACE WINNER
May 31, 2021
written for the "Cancer Ivy" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
(an abbreviated sestina)
[NOTE: I purposely chose the provocative title to attract
as many readers as possible. It's an important message!]
To start with, I desire, I were a dictator
If destiny were to decide at its leisure
Choose to crown me as a probationer
I would become a benevolent dictator.
I would in the first place announce to all
That there is no scope for nonsense at all
Those who obstruct the nation’s revival
At no cost be worthy of any mercy at all.
That serving the army by every one able
Shall be made mandatory for a year full
To inculcate discipline among the people
That helps the nation to remain watchful.
Health and hygiene of all the citizens
With special program for the old ones
And the disabled as well as the orphans
The basic aim to build a healthy nation.
With force would stop wasteful spending
On such things that affect nation building
Enforce through out the country a canon
Apply law of plain living and more action.
Literacy and education are basic for growth
None availing the help would attract wrath
Impose a firm ban on concessions forthwith
Make merit the standard, to build up strength.
No pampering of any community or section
Put down with firm footing all vivisection
Religious liberty granted to all and sundry
Severely deal with fanaticism and bigotry.
Implement free market economy and trade
Licenses and permits at a stroke removed
Every subsidy instantaneously abandoned
And tell the public to walk without a bend.
contd-part-2
Monotonous keyboards clicking
Redundant clocks ticking
Phones ringing, elevator doors swinging
Coffee pots brewing, vending machines spewing
Insouciant workers, carefree shirkers loitering
Clerks, secretaries previewing, managers reviewing
Visitors on stairs, in lobby chairs, lines queuing
Fate's dissonant chords o'er content hordes teeming
From Crescent's waning moon, spell of doom flinging
Across availing sky, a wailing strain is stringing
A portentous raven o'er torrentous swells winging
To his charted course, a venal force with guile clinging
Feral beast an imminent peril to prey quickly bringing
On the ethereal cusp perching, for crown jewel searching
Swooping down with force, beams from foundation divorce
Death's shadow in dust o'er screaming remnants streaming
Night's, palling darkness Day's ordained glint stalling
I’m dying…I really am
And those around me see the forces pushing me out
Sticky black outlines me, scratching its way inside
I feel like the divided creatures are availing…
My heart is failing
Is there a worse feeling?
I want to find a healing…but the eyes keep closing
FACEBOOK masks and seething lies bleeding outwards
Murdering personality, some say
Words of poetry undeserving recognition
Minds are crawling away from me as I reach for warmth
Grabbing onto a glob of black
I can’t see their real intentions…he needs an intervention
The priests won’t stop dunking her in the waters of perversion
Spitting open Pangaea, letting them flood its base
Things are going so fast…time is ticking disasters
A quiet sadness in souls I’ll never know
I’ll never come to understand you—I can't look them in the eyes
The tumultuous pupils overflow with the blackness…sticking the eyelids together
And drying…coagulating…
Binding…blinding
Only burning flames can lick it away
But my fingers are smoldering from the metallic roll of the lighter’s starter
The fuel is running too rapidly through my veins
Smoky ambience is weathering the skies
While Pangaea is depleted…broken
The creatures are separated—WE ARE SO MAD AT EACHOTHER
Racial content bleeding from the melting wax of our exteriors
Brotherhood—merely incestuous wasteland of hornless hornets
Empty stomachs moving special organs
Singling the heart out…
Shifting the lungs that give them airways of achievement
My teeth sinking into my cheek
I can’t move them…I can’t even speak
African I Am
An African I am
From the motherland,
The charms of natures wits
Hair,nose,lips
My ancestral gifts.
With the beauty of an inner soul,
I will spread the joy of unity,
To the discredited,rejected and ejected
To the confused branches,
Blown and scattered in the winds of discord
Elevating to alien drifts,
Whilst roots disengage from the soil,
Of an African heritage
Laden with gold
Contrasting,uniting with an availing skin
Dark ebony,golden sun.
Self love,hope and yearning
To be what I am
And not what I am told to be
This is freedom
True liberty.
But many have gone astray
Father guide them back to the fold.
Africa awaits you!
Just be bold.
(written in collaboration with Thererassic Black BNVillage}
Thank ye immensely devoted sister Shari
for availing Shana Aubrey
an expansive plethora of blessedly
extravagant opportunities
wherein here anatomical fist-sized noggin i.e. grey
matter sponging up - less doable from me
the biological father, who validates
your doting, helping, kickstarting,
et cetera I clamor to see!
--------------------------------------------
Matthew Scott Harris Born January 13th, 1959
I shake my shaggy hirsute hair
in utter disbelief, when the cocked arrow
begat thine conception,
when meal ate mum and octogenarian papa
begat their second offspring and only son,
what now seems to be a stepped-up pace,
where father time
doth affix another candle to blow
where the passage of life now measured
in swiftly tailored decades
denoting another birthday,
when in the blink of an eye,
I vividly recall crow
wing like a Lil whippersnapper of a boy
leisurely playing monopoly
for make-believe dough...
--------------------------------------------
nothing ranks as the greatest gift
since being a father twenty-one years ago
then bearing witness to grow
increasing autonomy
of my two precious daughters
whereby each will become master
of their domain, and meet a loving beau
(actually thy eldest dates
a delightful young man
from Puerto Re Coe),
whom intuition discerns would be
a near perfect match –
and this papa intuits dough
nuts to dollars – that such an
em man hint gentle, humble,
intelligent lad – doth hoe
pa fully become the future groom
of said firstborn, (which outcome I know
wing couched in a couple of poems
sent his way, and no doubt his smarts lo'
and behold revealed the slightly obscure wish),
where love doth most obviously abound mo'
then prevailed between myself and bride o'
mine these last deuce score
plus (21+) years, but now this Poe
whit aspires to recognize the worthiness of she,
whose chose thyself as a lifetime
groom cuz peaceful status quo
avoiding animosity –
as thyself and spouse gently row
merrily...merrily...merrily
our once quite rickety craft
which oft times in the past needed a tow
off the craggy shoals of constant woe.
Jilting muse with availing inspiration did wend
Barren reservoir doth futility portend
A bristling quill with no well to descend
No gratuitous frills on vapid contours suspend
Seeking with brokered shill to amend
Imploring vagabond seeking itinerant dividend
Wading through flooded channels, silty grains to append
From literary vault embezzled title apprehend
In voluminous discourse a simple aphorism distend
In ancient annals a trite fable from corroded parchments
rend
From Medieval chronicles a homily with which to contend
Out of Victorian poet's graded folio a euphemism vend
From contemporary laureates' silken threads, new yarn
spin
distend- to stretch out, to inflate
plus Doctor Kaunda also says family names
in tandem should not determine,
who to associate with, any more than nap
pulled lying flat hair, but rather character of hearts,
viz each one of every Zambian availing their lap
necessarily if seat space in short supply.
Speaking at a vision
ambassadors promoting peace
campaign fundraising dinner,
Doctor Kaunda says increase
in toto with discrimination,
suspicion, hatred, betrayal, malice, fleece
sing (the golden calf)
re: greed, selfishness, grease
sing palms, and other
negative behavior release
zing threatening opposition
to zeitgeist, and core values crease
and crimp unity if left unchecked.
He has recalled that during
struggle for independence,
people from various
backgrounds humming and purring
worked hand in glove together,
realizing that they were, spurring
above everything else,
brothers and sisters of
one nation hungry stirring
potential for harmony whirring.
Dr. Kaunda says the “One Zambia One Nation” slogan
coined many decades ago still holds
true and continues starring Hulk Hogan
to unite Zambian’s together as one motley crue
clinging as one to solid state craft toboggan.
He says Zambia remains
a beacon of peace in Africa,
that dare not smother
snapchat, nor shutterfly - oh brother
scuttling important all Zambian citizens
should pay obeisance with mother
land maintaining grew ving
peace and loving one another.
A crippling desire
Empty of meaning and depth
Hope of lasting fulfilment
That soon burns into soot
Aims for self importance
Though, that does not exist
And thoughts ceaselessly, craving nothing but
I want… I want… I want…
I want to be better than her
And also better than him
I want to have more than all of them
I require
I desire
I demand
Look at me
Idolise me
Am I not a godsend…?
It extorts one of reason
It smothers the inner shine
It dilutes intentions
Integrity starts to decline.
It makes the rich exploit the poor
The learned availing of the simple
The once was, a good friend
Ailing, without a cure!
Sleep deprivation,
Aggression,
Mood swings,
Depression,
Are only the beginning!
It is a deceitful word.
Why would want let you stumble?
When life is made to be simple!
Michael
As your wish of Persephone’s homecoming
We prepare minimal harvests from upheaval
Lost cause is the aid from ill-advised panic,
This casts doubt on her uncertain retrieval.
Demeter! Eyes of own appreciate our harvest,
These distant fields furrow with guided fracture
Stippled under greenery from a veil’s blockade
Virtues the gauge in which patience decides,
Miniscule the remnants with featureless serenity.
(Demeter)
When serenity further ventures availing hope?
Reminiscing confines a good past as undone!
Full quota the hearsay rumours have it false,
Alas, it is not! Had I reined her close, it might.
What patience has to honour, bereavement has none
Add Persephone’s quandary to the spectroscope,
Your purpose replies with a synopsis of course
Where underworlds design a stark reality to some.
(Views the harvest)
A penchant of well being in spite of mixed moods
Decides the mood, which in turn designs the season
Therefore, devise draining soils to your advantage-
Bale the thrusts of bittersweet as my tears became
Blocked in by sentinels’ the adornment of brilliance
Contrast with vivid twilight a beguiled revelation,
As wheat-sheafs’ bide an arc from golden chariots
Through displays, the haze of genial zephyrs brisk-
Mysteries surmise a whereabouts to quantum leaps
Exhibit confinement of spring to an autumn equinox,
And as therapeutics go, bereavement takes the risk.
~ ~
AD
(Mortals) Who are building nations.
Treasure the divinity of Demeter to all nations-
Answering to each nobility, her problem solving
Storing strength, our harvest elations;
Peace in our time, whilst mood swings evolving
Bond the religious bridge for neighbourly suffice
So we ourselves can understand those lands,
Whose barren terra firma distinguish the entice
Those future developments where trust expands,
More as an understanding, than self-sacrifice.
In ye old days of yore on Malaga's dreary shore
An untidy castle rimmed by salty moor
Housed a lonely, oft-drunk matador
In briny marsh grazed no sheep, but wild pigs three score
Staggering oft around soggy, muddy estate in boozed, dazed state; prating conquistador
With fitted bed sheet he dodged each, wild, voracious boar
On one fateful eve a rabid boar did his flabby posterior gore
Now ambitions stored, bedded his dreams, salved his sore
'Til one morn, a damsel in distress swooned at his door
Bereft of virility, but saddled with tales of chivalric lore
A hearty tonic the prone maiden he did pore, and spouted tawdry tales galore
Unentranced by availing circumstance, his rambling advances she did ignore
Intoxicated by her lovely essence, her father's residence did implore
Confounded by his incessant inebriating pleas, she fell to the floor
Mistaking her bended knee as fealty to be, he let out a drunken roar
Enraged by his licentious intentions, she yelled, I will not take any more
Mind numbed from numerous droughts, he heard, I am your whore
Giddy, his infertile, limp shaft tried into her sweet mound to bore
But his drooping shaft could not breach her silty core
Frustrated the horny goad reversed positions. riding her till both were saddlesore
Finally breaching the chasm, his spent rod found reeling a chore
But her tapped well gushed and she yelled encore
Now understanding his riding days were over, he cried and swore
His ripening virgin unsatiated bade his pallid pilot her canyon explore
Now contrite, he explained fertile streams no longer from stagnant fount could pore
Giving due penance, purged the dross, and from her steamy vat tore
Forevermore an unfit paramour, jilted matador; who no longer his tainted cape wore
Imagine true love exists
Virtue that on fealty insists
Extinguishing meaningless trysts
Patrimony, chauvinism resists
Tokenism, infatuation desists
Lingering romance that heart uplifts
Unbrokered love with mutual benefits
Pure motives that bridge all rifts
Honor that countenances no grifts
Steadfastness which mollifies truant shifts
Passionate embraces, carnal gifts
Amorous kiss that inwardly drifts
Synchronistic minds that all good fortune sifts
Harmonious spirits soaring life's rugged cliffs
Quintain of: sorrow, despair, agony, misery, lament scoring
pain
Dolesome drum o'er jaded psyche taps a dark, palling
refrain
Hamstrung harp bridled soul with dissonant chords
enchain
Shrill flute a dreary, eerie melody wafts o'er drifting
swain
Melancholy tenor of wailing violin doth all availing hope
drain