Best Bereft Poems
Written: January 20, 2024
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Weary of heartfelt kindness,
on rugged slopes,
Charming and brilliant,
will fall back into darkness.
Yet they suit rose and oak,
I survive,
Mates and minds meet on Earth,
Mingle with subdued dust,
Few opinions or facts,
Slurries, or rules, are vestiges,
yet the finest has vanished,
An aversion to caring hearts,
Amidst rugged scenery,
Charming and well-versed
Shall revert to oblivion,
Dot with ivy and blooms
I endure unblemished
Soar into space, mates, and sages,
Mortar and grime
Low empathy or moral venture,
yet the finest has faded away.
Beneath a veil of dense foliage,
I'm back to my ethereal abode
peaceful midst of rustling woods
My worldly life is over,
The cacophony drove me
loudness, delight, and pain,
faded into timeless quiet
I am at ease
Dancing across your mind and heart,
infusing your soul with tender views
Grief will lessen in-depth agony,
At sunset, daylight will wane
I'm here.
I can be felt as you cross this place,
Feel the soft breeze on your skin
sun-dappled woodland floor,
high-up branches whisper,
I'm everywhere
I've returned home,
My clay-creating plug-ins
Earth blessed me with an idyllic life,
has brought me back in,
To adore her radiance,
Under my leafy shade
It is my place of peace,
I'm home.
I heard echoes of scurrilous snarls,
from my conscience as it spoke
contemptible remarks aimed at me.
What shame those words delivered.
"Fatuous one, why does your hand quiver,
mimicking trembling lips of a child in fear?
You dare call yourself a poet,
but you're nothing more than a joke."
Guilt, the culprit that tunnels my mind
as my passion flower shrivels on its vine.
An empty heart has stripped my soul
of its craving need to write.
It's my own foolish notion
that causes me to shiver.
I weep over my planted seedlings,
their mournful cries I hear.
Abandoned by their mother who begot them,
and for this I'm filled with remorseful regret.
That mockery invaded my aching breast,
when it ridiculed me as a fool;
"A self-proclaimed bard who gives up the task,
should put down the quill and live in disgrace."
There is no saving grace for me.
No nourishment for my verses to thrive.
My heart is broken and lost in memories.
Without the will to live, how will it survive?
It only beats to keep me alive.
Rows of sprouted thoughts have withered
dying of thirst, drying up in a field of grief,
and I, their neglectful sower, helplessly sit
as time elapses and I watch them expire.
I’ve fallen between the gaps of missing lines
and must retire.
I've watered the seeds of my self doubt
with salted sweat from my furrowed brow;
over fertilized them with tears of frustration.
I do not seek salvation or redemption.
Damnation will out.
My ink well of impetus has sprung a leak
or maybe it's a new watering hole I seek.
I have not a drop to quench their thirst
no morning dew, nor afternoon shower
to give my wilting buds a reprieve in relief.
I've tried to save them all,
but half-hearted attempts were all in vain.
Not one more rhyme can I rescue from pain
and suffering loss. All hope is gone.
My fear is that I cannot express myself
in what was once an emotional voice.
No wonder my pages remain barren and blank,
except for the blotches of spilled ink.
My parchment lies in a state of immortal decay.
I relinquish my quill to a better hand than mine,
setting it free and pray that it may be forgiven
for my folly, for I've given it no choice.
I've only myself, this bereft poet, to thank.
Written January 24th, 2021
Judged N/A 2/22/21
Contest Open Poetry !
Priceless pearls scattered as the necklace
Was snapped, ripped away by greedy
Hands, envious of your sublime beauty
And even gentler encouragement. Bounc’d
Every one of them cross cobblestones, cracks,
And down the storm drain irretrievable.
Holding that golden empty promise string
Your fountain of tears so scalded my soul.
Could I but hold you, say comforting words,
I would have. But words are trite when the heart
Is blistered in injustice’s heat.
We gathered what we could, returning
To the Sea, knifing open more oysters
Restringing your dream, one pearl at a time.
Like squeezing and gripping
a handful of sand
Your love dropped through
the crevices unrhymed
Defining our feelings
with each orphaned word
Lost in the random
—abandon of time
(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)
And ever above,
clouds of sorrow
assemble in thunderous ranks:
a surfeit of threat
and gloom.
And ever below,
unhappy footsteps
surrender rhythm
to unyielding pavement—
against a gray and endless plain.
Who but a fool
dreams that sorrow
can be bartered
for kindness and love?
The beggared soul abides.
And, in his eyes,
the ashen world
grows, blurs and overflows
to run down his cheeks.
And it rains.
When I lay my head to sleep
Dappled moonlight shines down
Whilst gently, softly I weep
The furrows on my forehead as I frown
The fear i'll die alone, forgotten
And in my sorrows drown
The thoughts I have are rotten
Like a heart of stone
So ill-begotten
I must not die alone
Bereft of love, bereft of home.
Boorish hater of light.
Bashful, burrowing soul.
Baited with putrid smells,
Bereft of colorize.
Basking in dirt and damp.
Baying at sounds above.
Being ... once a human.
Here cries a young woman who recently lost her friend.
She was angry with her friend; she scolded her rage, her rage did end.
A voice from the dead said: ‘‘Friend! I know what I did was a great mess;
I’m sorry –and to be honest, I wouldn’t ask for your pardon unless
I was at peace. Where I are it is evermore burning and there’s no getting old;
Yet there’s only a way in and no way out; no food, no water, nor feeling bold –
Apart from that though, I know that my death had put you through a lot of pain,
But there’s definitely no need to cry; I won’t return, for there’s no dying again.
Now listen: ‘til the sun sheds its tears, just keep on singing our favourate song;
And at any rate, the lamentation shan’t recur; yet the song will keep you strong.’’
I stammer and stutter
Trying to find words
I am all muddled up
Tongue-tied
I guess I am dumb
I just can’t seem
To make sense
To you what I mean
Am I wired up wrong?
Are my wires crossed?
Do I have wires at all?
What are these wires Doc.
You are putting on my head?
I think it is shocking
They way they treat people
These days
All I needed –was to be loved
Love is action- not only in words
Understanding is -the wellspring of life
©? Brenda V Northeast 1st Jan. 2011
Your silence
casts a shadow
your stillness
is my weakness
your pallor
leaves me wretched
like a fallen leaf
prostrate with grief
I lie, by the tree
which gave me life
My senses
are dulled
Time is relentless
Tomorrow I walk
the slow path of sorrow
Near to me still
yet already lost
you lie
and my wishes
are dust
at my feet
loneliness is a period
without
a full sentence;
it mirrors a riverbed
that once
knew water.
loneliness is like a dried
empty egg shell
that has lost its all;
you were the watered
sentenced yolk of my life
and i miss you so dearly.
Like the wind on my cheek,
Life passes me by,
Unlike my pain,
That wants me to die.
Grey skies turn blue,
The winds pick up,
It's life again,
Waiting to be nuged.
My candle flickers,
In the dark I sit still,
I see the soft light,
On my windowsill.
The morning is near,
There's winds blowing in,
I think I'll let them,
Caress my cheek again.
pen in hand with the
intention of writing a
haiku or tanka
but nothing is forthcoming yet
no inspiration occurs.
Please help me in my confusion
Come to my rescue
Do not leave me sitting all alone
On this lonely beach of abandonment
Help me my brothers
Help me my compatriots
Help me you all men of good will
To make a modicum of sense
From all disconcerting confusion around me
My country has become an enigma
Difficult to fathom and rescue
From self inflicted contradictions
We were in the abyss of despondency
We were in dire need
To wriggle out from Economic strangulation
Kidnapping and banditry
General insecurity and insurgency
Glaring leadership failure
And like furious flash flood
We trooped out with hope in our hearts
With one goal in mind
To cast our votes and make a change
Particularly the youth eager
To put their trust once more
In a system bereft of any trust
And like a Gale of disappointment
Our hope came cascading down
To the abyss of disillusionment
And cacophony of claims and denials
And waiting for the unseen hands of destiny
To steer her from annihilation
To the habitual and perpetual state of inertia
I did the same thing that you did today
I took all your secrets and threw them away
Of the little there was of us nothing is left
I dust off my hands
And feel slightly
Bereft
© Gail Foster 10th July 2017