Best Back Off Poems
I write-
mellifluous sweet murmuring poems-
gossamer whispering words
a labyrinth twisting and turning
serendipity writes
and woebegone sadramblingswithtears
and all I want to do is share
my feelings
sweet murmuring poems-gossamer
but here come the don'tdoitgang
a labyrinth twisting and turning
with their opinions stabbing
their rigmarole
wanting to make my safe harbour a hoosegow
oh the words and wordsdribbling they let fly
to our souls and
my mellifluous
sweet
murmuring
poems whispering
the discontentannoyingwordgang
a labyrinth
twisting
and turning
come with their constanttellingus what to do
smellfungas comments
and I
am guilty of everything it all
I enter my poems
written from the depths of my soul
in whatyoucallmeaningless contests
andIwinsometimes
so bite me
I leave comments lovelyandawesome
with words like beautiful and wonderful
so back off leavemealone bite me
I like to post
pictures with poems
everheardoffreeimages
I dwell behind a mighty high wall where
I write-
mellifluous sweet murmuring poems-
gossamer whispering words
a labyrinth twisting and turning
serendipity writes
and woebegone sadramblingswithtears
and all I want to do is share
my feelings
________________________
May 31, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/bite me
Copyright Protected, ID 05-678-683-31
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Bite Me,
sponsor, John Lawless, Judged 2015
First Place
There is a chocolate monster
It’s lurking around my house
Hiding here and hiding there
He’s as quiet as a mouse
The cake and cookies soon disappear
They vanish as if by magic
It is something I mustn’t fear
My depleted cupboards look so tragic
The Haribo sweets were sadly depleted
When I opened the kitchen drawer
Only ten left in the bag, oh I feel defeated!
Oh this monster is beyond the law
But I will miss my monster for soon he will leave
Back off to university he will go
And I will be sad and my shoulders will heave
So I must simply go with the flow
In a few weeks time my sweets will remain
For my son will be oh so far away
I’ll be wishing that he were back here again
Candy will be here when he returns one day
09~27~15
My Monster Contest Sponsored By Anthony Slausen
I seal a kiss of blessings away from traitors
away from judgmental people and haters.
I am weary of reading and listening
to people using their pen to cripple, bringing
pain and suffering to other living souls.
I ask what their goal is to cast hot coals.
The vengeful dishonesty to incriminate
just makes us accumulate and abominate
the actions of the judgmental people and haters.
That is no way to behave, like mud swamp gators
because it seems to be conveyed that way.
Stop and surrender your brawling and say, "Nay!"
Back off! No more! Stay away!
11/8/2017
Don’t get down because of haters hating,
use it as motivation to shove your success in their face.
Welcome to the old you
Hello, Hello,
Despair so Crude, Dreams are gone
Yet we still follow the old Path
Where empathy kills
And the Sympathy we find is another Lie
You were born to deceive
A puppet-master of emotion
Back off this fixation while you have a chance
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Sorrow-- My Emotional High
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Better to be Frozen than Numb
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Exchange pleasure for pain
It's all coming t you
The facade of Joy falls again
Violet Hearts crush easy
Your Pain you don't Want this
Your Sorrow, You Want This
Back off this fixation while you have a chance
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Sorrow-- My Emotional High
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Better to be Frozen than Numb
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Back off this fixation while you have a chance
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Sorrow-- My Emotional High
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Better to be Frozen than Numb
Who Would Want To Be This Cold?
Through the eyes of one born in 1952:
1950’s TV craze
Muscle cars, blue jeans
Poodle skirts, class ring exchanges
Simple time, grandparents involved.
Girls want to be pretty, men call women girls
I Love Lucy
Topper, Loretta Young,
Show of Shows
Grandma’s house on Sundays. Grandpa’s teach skills.
Girls want to be beautiful, men call women “dames”
1960’s Marauding cold war
Russia cosmonauts
Space race
Grandparents are moved to nursing homes.
Girls want to be Jackie, men call women “wife”
JFK and Bobby
Dr. Martin Luther King
Killed by cowards
Grandparents give advice, but visits are more seldom.
Girls want to be housewives, men call women back home.
Early 1970’s, hippie revolution
Egyptian cat queen make-up, free love, anti-war.
Barbara Streisand, Sonny and Cher, Bette Midler,
Grandparents see an alarming pattern of disrespect.
Girls want to be singers and dancers, men get confused.
1980’s
Fur vests, striped pants
Disco Music, John Travolta, Sundays are just another day.
Grandparents have rights, and try to get part time custody of their grandchildren.
Women want to have rights, be independent. Men call them “busters”
1990’s, Turn of everything, selfishness on the rise.
Assassination of Innocence, church and family are scoffed.
Grandparents back off, not daring to give advice, seeing it is not wanted.
Women are working all over the place. Men are not the only bread-winners.
2000’s Computers are in houses
Children are alone, latch key
911 happens, people pray for a day or two.
Grandparents are nowhere around.
Men and women get depressed; children are too.
2010’s
I-phone. I-pad, I-know. I, me, I, I, I.
Lawsuits, lawlessness, spiritually bereft.
Communication breakdown; facetime grandparents once in a pink moon (rarely).
People sit next to each other and text. Confusion reigns supreme.
Breaking down of family is complete. Sorrowful, angry people, disjointed, sad.
*** Awaiting Inspiration ***
(written for my brother and sister poets)
Reaching for dreams in the black of my closed eyes, but sleepless,
I go on in music, out past radiant lights —
Bright and brighter — spreading beams that hold back off every
Fright plotted by the cornered, infernal shadows threatening
To overwhelm as they amass over meadows bordering
The forested wilds’ protection of those — hidden therein.
Those, who, in their God-graced innocence, their divinely destined lives,
From infant cries to elder wise; and who will survive
Keeping in the depth of their beings a spirit of truth with
A visible valiance — seen upon a look deep into their eyes;
While —- in this place — in this secrecy thick with trees — I alone
Am ready with pen in hand...to be their mirror…
For I am a documentarian of the hopes held
In humanity’s array of feeling hearts:
Whose stories I note
In the bounce of continuous city din; in tales recounted by farm folk
Walking between their grain-growing rows; and told in chanted
Prayers rising for the ill, the poor, the despairing…needed and answered.
Thus, holding visions and voices, I persistently proceed with my work,
First, with a necessary pulling at these pliant walls
Of the creative cocoon — its soft, loose weave deceptively
Can seem easily penetrable. Possibly God will respond to these
Cries for his collaboration. Meanwhile, alone, awaiting inspiration, I stay
With crayons in hand, watching the approach of a very rare snowfall in May.
*****. ******. ******. *******. ******. *****
Inspired by Milton & Dante, may be Part i of a longer work.
Thanks be to God…
Also for Charlie and Jim with thanks.
11/21-28 (c)S. Young Eslinger
Why can't she learn to do that right?
You'd think that she'd know better.
Someone should tell her what to do,
To hone her each endeaver.
What is he doing over there?
He should be over here.
He should be told where he belongs,
And make it very clear.
She never does as she is told,
Although I've tried and tried;
What she should do and how and when,
I took it all in stride.
I spoke to her, I spoke to them,
To bring her back in line;
But she is stubborn, wants her way,
But she will learn in time,
That I am right and she is wrong,
I'll teach her that I know,
Much more about her work than she,
I'll tell her where to go.
It seems my help and good advice,
Is just ignored and spurned.
I only want the best for all,
The best for all concerned.
I guess my help's unwanted,
But if 'twere put to test,
They all would see that I am right,
And my way is the best.
No matter where you go or what you do you're going to find some people in the world who think they know more about eveything than anyone else and they will do their best to force their opinion on everyone they come in contact with. Th ebest way to handle someone like this is to give them a wide berth. Stay aloof but friendly in a distant sort of way. However, don't hesitate to let them know you cannot and will not be bulllied because this type of person capitalizes on your weakness. Whenever they start something with you it's important to make sure everyone knows exactly what was said and done when it happens so you don't end up looking the fool instead of them. When they find out that instead of keeping quiet you will fight back using their own methods against them they will back off and leave you alone.
Love, I hate you,
Not ‘cos you’re ugly.
Love, I hate you,
Not ‘cos you don’t love me.
Love, I hate you,
‘Cos of your great love to me.
Love, I hate you, ‘cos of it;
A listener, you don’t want to be.
.
You heeded not what I said,
Even thou, I beg you, to “back off!”
“Now, Look!
You see… what we’ve done!?”
A soul is in grieve,
‘Cos of us.
With your love,
My soul cries, too.
Love, I hate you,
For intoxicating me, with your potion.
Thou, you know…
I am a married man.
Fell back off of the wagon
This, old ass been draggin’ now..for years
Tween the whiskey and the worry
The, always in a hurry and the beers
Guess the seats were just too small
The, loneliness of last call
Always seemed to get the best of me
Now I’m a bitter man whenever I look back
On who I used to be
From a father to my daughter
To a, why’d you even bother
I’ve sank just like a ship out on the sea
And I’m a bitter man whenever I look back
On who I used to be
Meetings told me, that once I was I’d always be
12 steps away from possessing, the darker side I fleed
It only took one reason, for me to keep believing
I’ll never be the man I was
Or who I used to be
I’ve been changed from a man into a memr’y
And my road to sober never seemed to be so long
I’m guessing, had she kept me, instead of having left me
I wouldn’t be here drinkin’
And writing you a song
I’ll never be the man I was
Or who I used to be
Whiskers of time brush up
'gainst gossamer silk web
Slow down, slow down, they said
'Til forces impure
back off their attack
Faced down, turned-around
bone-dry bled
Social injustice and economic inequality
have always been practiced in our Nation's working industry
Irish need not apply, Hispanics we don't want your kind
and Blacks don't even show your face
this was the typical response to ethnic minorities in America's workplace
nepotism and favoritism were the norm and status quo
as it was not about your knowledge or skill but about who you know
let us never forget the unions and labor laws which evened the playing field
for if it was left up to corporate America economic inequality would never yield
Racism, discrimination and segregation on our Nation's history is a blight
and in spite of all the civil rights laws we still have to fight
for a measure of equal opportunity
for some respect and a little dignity
let us never forget the Rev. Dr. King Jr., Medgar Evers, Cesar Chavez and Rosa Parks
those who stood up against injustice by igniting a socially conscious spark
they did not back down, they would not back off, they took a moral stance
so that every single human being in this country could have an equal chance
We hold these truths to be self-evident that all citizens shall be treated the same
regardless of race, color, age, gender or how we pronounce your name
and as we celebrate Black History Month let us never forget those who led the fight
in the struggle for social justice, economic equality and basic human rights
CANIDS
The Fox
with cat-like slit eyes
lurking near the hen house. . . .
meow-less creature
Chihuahua-like ears
catch a sound in the bushes. . . .
hens can rest easy
a small rat scurries
with that vixen in pursuit . . .
it’s fast-food tonight
Coyotes
song of the desert -
long howls declare “I am here”. . . .
mice and rabbits hide
barking dogs in threes
unlucky mice collected. . . .
live practice for cubs
yippy yippy yip
heard among those happy cubs. . .
celebration time
The Pack
the pack starts its hunt
mountains rise up before them. . .
thirty miles to go
in dark night - dog fight
one alone - tail stands erect. . . .
yellow eyes back off
wolf faces grinning
twenty pounds of meat for each. . . .
like one hundred burgers
For PD's Inner Animal Contest:
for fox, coyote, wolf haiku
Some people insist that I keep writing limericks
Don't want to overstay my welcome in this mix
So I'll write a few
But back off, phew!
Unless of course youse guys start throwing big bricks
© Jack Ellison 2015
License
Learn it
Earn it
Road signs
Traffic's
Graphics
Parking 101
Rehearse
Reverse
Text messages
Checking
Wrecking
Back Off!
Tailgate
Jail bait
Officer on duty
Patrol
Control
______________________________________________________
Contest for March of the Footles-- Sponsored by Timothy Hicks
3/3/16
Fire burning bright how we take you for granted without a revelation of what you are.
Before the phrase was uttered you were there to start the beginning.
An ending to the previous flames of previous times.
Always sparking! With a passion of anger and love.
The warmth of over 10,000 years has been the same.
Some use you for love; while others use you for the cause of death.
Some deaths are noble; while others are works of those who claim nobility!
The Romans, Moors, Holy Romans and even the new world use you for wrongful reasons.
The dogmas want you to bleed with them and fight those they believe are wrong.
The real people whom are wrong are those who hinder the progress of truth with falsehoods of the past that they claim to be true.
A tribute to the dead you forth shine.
A tribute to the life of many you come as a welcome.
What would we be and where would we be without you?
Spirit of electromagnetic radiation
What are you?
Where are you?
Are you just a combustion to us?
Regardless of your rest we still use you in a condenser.
Always grateful and always bleak we are to you.
Coursing through our skin in the wind and snow.
Even coursing when we back off.
Except we take our extra skin off to bathe with you.
In the eyes of scholars and growing scholars the passion of you burns within them!
We hold you dear and try to uncover more of you.
The knowledge inside brings you back to the stars.
You are light and a reflection of a truth that we are constantly trying to discover.
We admire your power.
A truth you will always be.
Even in the end of the universe you will sleep; however, after a length of infinite to us you will explode into ignition.
We cry to you and ask for you to never go out?
The only hindrance to you dying in us is when we let others control us.
This is why so many have fallen.
They have lost the passion; they have loss you.
We are the children of you.
We are the children of fire.