Best Begrudge Poems
Don’t censor me and let me write at will
The longings of my heart these pages fill
You fathom not what lies there in my heart
So don’t contrive a way to ban my art
Unfettered let my fingers pound these keys
My passion and my strength these rhymes appease
I live to conquer fears that vex my mind
And solace sweet in written words I find
Those fantasies that lie within my breast
All naked now, they lie in words undressed
I ride the freedom born of words revealed
And cannot bear to keep these thoughts concealed
So don’t begrudge impassioned poetry
It is my life, my joy, my ecstasy
Eileen Manassian
The eternal buzz of city anglers
brash, angry, hornets ever selling egos.
Shrieking anxiety laced, analog, syllables, idiotically.
Hoping against hope, urchins, desperations end,
strumming ancient chords in vain efforts,
praying evermore for ordained kindness's eye.
Telltale ubiquitous blighter's energetically begging on.
How on heaven's earth can anyone
begrudge absolution, hand out shackles instead.
The august city in full ultraviolet,
never ever satiated, each mouth open.
Raw as meat, uncooked, questionable, objectionable,
waiting on the angler's hook obediently.
Eyes playful with insecurity--
I've seen them innocent, coy, enticing
and distraught--all teasing masculinity!
I've seen them in disbelief, slicing
to what's left of me; hurting her was easy--
she was fragile! Protecting her from others
was easier than from myself, and how sleazy
that I'd betrayed her trust by way of another.
Had I lied when I said I loved her?
As for that, I don't quite know.
What I do know is I hurt her--
when I could've made her glow with magnitude.
They say brown eyes make the best liars,
and in this case, I don't regret the lie,
for in that brief fit of desire,
I allowed inhibitions to die.
Blame him? I am unwilling to begrudge
on behalf of one clear and specific point--
he allowed me his imitation love,
and our bodies, this love did anoint.
Engulfed in the music my mind plays,
my heart becomes my soul's own lyre.
Though I'm aware it's just a phase,
my heart still loves her brown eyed liar.
A wall holds a bright white clock,
Five minutes tick to breach the span.
Time is relative only to breathing,
While immortality strives to live.
I rise from the depths of pain,
In fragrant mist of triumph.
The room unfolds behind me,
Where flesh obliges morbid death.
In parting, I reap one last glance,
To those that begrudge my leaving.
I bend to wipe their cheeks from tears,
As their souls churn in saddened anguish.
My spirit trembles between sorrow and joy,
Being pulled by love from earth and heaven.
Then, the time is marked upon the doctor’s chart,
Releasing me to my glorious eternal departure.
Dusk
As the dusk summons twilight,
The sky deepens its colors.
It gathers the quiet as it demands an audience.
Transparently slow and thickening light,
Sends out a scented chill, so slight, and at will,
While the land below prepares for its darkness.
It's colors of golden, red, brown and yellow,
Submerge together in its mellow haze of lines,
And with its swift action diminishes the sun.
What beauty beholds us a gaze to its sight,
A magnificent artwork for a moment or time,
But it too shall pass with a blink of an eye.
For dusk will begrudge dawn,
With the passing hours of its shadow moon,
A partial absence of sight, I bid you a good night.
date of poem 24 July 2018
I'm a balanced individual
I have a chip on both my shoulders,
And they are getting bigger
As each year I grow older.
I seem to begrudge the young their youth
It's just plain jealousy,
I envy all their years ahead,
So many more than me.
I hate it that my back aches
And that my knees are sore,
And how careful that I need to be
To pick something from the floor.
There are hairs growing in my ears,
Why on earth is that,
I can't bothered trimming them
I just wear a stretchy hat.
Is the reaper coming,
Will I get the nod,
I realise now what I've become,
I'm an old and grumpy sod !
Entry for
A contest on aging Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet.
31/5/2019. Placed 5th.
The world's abuzz with soccer
Though I couldn't give a hoot.
I wouldn't even have a clue
For which team I should root.
The bars are packed with rousing fans;
I don't begrudge their cheers,
But I prefer a tennis match
To savor with my beers.
I'd also watch the Yankees play
'Cause baseball's what I know,
Though baseball-haters claim the game's
Inordinately slow.
So while the teams do battle
With the World Cup as the prize,
I'll find a book or other show
To occupy my eyes.
Throughout this prosperous country stands
many forsaken islands of poverty;
There is no need to visit foreign lands
to find children poor and hungry.
Yet charity flows to third world shores
as if blinded by what’s so near;
These islands that lie right outside our door,
that we seem to just hope will disappear.
We refuse to raise the minimum wage
and begrudge them the few food stamps they get;
We call them “lazy”, in fits of rage,
and charity at home we soon forget.
I think it’s great we care for the world,
but not at the expense of the islands here at home;
It’s not the fault of those boys and girls -
we shouldn’t leave them on their own.
In one of the richest countries here on earth
islands of poverty still abound;
What is all this excess worth,
if a way to help cannot be found?
The humming bees and hummingbirds hang just above the dew
which sparkles through the hazy yon of shadows vastly few.
For lo, the sun peeks sleepily above the emerald east
as warbling birds announce to all, the Mayday breakfast feast.
At last it’s time to celebrate the annual awakening,
now won’t you please get out of bed, oh maiden of my Spring?
I beg you rise and take my arm, they will not save us plates
and down beside the entry stoop, a carriage for us waits!
I’ll not begrudge your makeup smears, nor your tangled hair,
if you’ll but cease this hibernation; you are not a bear!
Come now, free your frosty mind of winter’s chilly dream,
and in the cherry blossom rain, my youthful love redeem.
Alas, the fading carriage sounds. Great, now I’ll have to walk,
and on my way back up the hill...I’m buying you a clock.
4/18/15
Entry for On The First of May
the existence of known solubles
be they spiritual, molecular or imaginary
derivations, vain or divine
Protest
Implode
Disappear
Relinquish
Begrudge
Refuse
Rebel
Resist
Rebuke
Ignore
Mock
By chance, plot or plan
take maternity shops for example
pay phones
bill of rights?
alarm clocks
constitution?
looking up from our handheld
electronic god to greet passersbys
purge our souls
03/08/13
© All Rights Reserved
Some fudge
Begrudge
Covet
You bet
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Contest:Footles
A HEART OF GOLD
A
Symbol of a
Seraphic being you are,
For to the hopeless, without a
Behest a chest of hope on a platter
Of silver you offered, and the cold
Maimed, with your fur, warmth
You gave.
To
The feeble minded
In the battle against cruel fate.
Courage for conquest you gave.
To the ravenous innards, through
The darkest ravine undaunted
You trod to feed.
The
Cleaved hearts from
Belied oath of love,
Solace, found in your
Salving speech.
The solitariness fissured hearts
In your companionship suture found.
Nothing
Have I seen,
That you would begrudge
For a heart of gold you have
Even your life, you would as lief
As the celestial liege give.
For his nature, in you reflects.
He, though, just a pearl had, but on
The altar of love down laid him.
For the hallowed carmine from his
Sinew our flaws to blot.
Oh
How like the sun you are
For though we are by distance barred.
Yet, the warmth of your benign rays
Here I feel.
(DEDICATED TO THE GIVER)
I speak of My God with a heart that's on fire
I speak of My God with a true desire
I speak of My God who has given me life
I speak of My God that only a few will see his light
I speak of My God who has given me faith to dream
I speak of My God with no fear and this I've seen
I speak of My God who I pray to each night
I speak of My God that he will open your eyes bright
I speak of My God that he will take away your fright
For in God we should love and never judge
even for those who mistrust or begrudge.
T Reams 3/25/2015 contest sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux 'Tell Me'
3rd Place
We embark on a new journey,
Let our travels never end,
Keep us heading in the same direction,
Though the track may sometimes bend,
Let happiness be our destination,
Let our trademark be a smile,
Let us enjoy every footstep,
Not begrudge a single mile,
Let us revel in new discoveries,
Greet each fresh dawn with pleasure,
Let us find our inner-wealth and know ...
The true meaning of treasure.
Little I ask, my wants are few,
I only wish a roof and home -
a simple one this man will do
that I may call my own.
To within its walls live and age
with a memoir to fill my page.
Plain fare is all I need for me,
a ration a day to hearty fill,
and oft to satisfy a thirsty plea
water my dry lips to spill.
And so granted if I should ask
a cold stubbie or whisky flask.
I care not for gold and land,
nor chattel or title to obey -
just a mortgage and at hand
money enough to pay.
I only this need ask and pose
lest the bank on me foreclose.
My clothes I do proudly wear,
no robes of bejewelled ties,
for king ‘n yeoman are I swear
equal all in God’s eyes!
Nay, I am not of that noble ilk
and need no garments of silk.
I do not seek what I need not
like a rich man’s cars or toys -
my contentment is with my lot
and in life’s simple joys.
A humble man beholden for
if this world favour me more.
Truly not I begrudge no man
his Hope, his Fate, his Love -
I seek truths none more than
the word of God above!
And to behold if it is His will
His grace in life to death until.
Written: May 2018
With special thanks to
Oliver Wendell Holmes.