Best Best Efforts Poems
My self-awareness is clear.
Blunt.
It's ugly and painful. To call it enlightening, is putting it lightly.
Honestly though, it's relieving, intriguing, and totally necessary.
Character building, and damn near life-saving.
They say "seeing is believing"... But what about these feelings?
The temporary, non-factual, and oh so ing deceiving.
I prefer to walk this life in honesty. Real, raw, and owning responsibility.
Without concern for the possibility of living "lonely".
My truth.
Your truth.
THE truth.
I struggle to grasp how it's so hard to direct all my best efforts...
ANot for you, not for him, or for any of them. But for me. And at least for now, only me...
Like clockwork. One, two, three.
The bad decision making.
I always have been, I am now, and always will be, my own worst enemy.
Some will say that they "admire" my ability.
My ability to rep nothing more, and nothing less... Then just me.
Inside I'm laughing.
It's almost really ing funny!
With a head clouded thick and smokey and a heart I seem to keep on freezing.
Painful realities,
I continue to keep on stuffing.
Like it's all okay. Right here, right now...
see in my eyes that my lips are saying it.
Again.
Sell off another piece of my soul & commence to feeling nothing.
Turns out with all this ducking and dodging of reality, I myself am being robbed of the real me.
The chick they so ignorantly pretend to be "admiring".
It's gotten to the point of what I deem as wasteful & petty, being sold short...
Ultimately starving your life, my life, and this bag Society, of true, legit beauty.
The crimes of passion that fuel within me.
The answers remain exposed. Ever so transparently.
As I once said, my self-awareness is more than a blessing.
Granting the ability to understand what blatantly lay before me.
Allowing my swollen eyes to see ever so clearly.
Observing, the chaos and defeat.
hear me say, although I'd prefer to scream....
No matter the faulty choices, or the seemingly impossible hopes and dreams...
I can be my own muse, my own Mentor, I will be just me. My own home team.
Completely denying the hopelessness that the greatest of evil strives to feed within me
Note: "Arete": Pronounced [ ahr-i-tey ]
Sometimes our best efforts go unnoticed
by everyone but ourselves.
We strive mightily to succeed and accomplish
something we think is important
and of value to others
that ultimately ends up in the proverbial wastelands
of unseen and unrecognized accomplishments.
Poets know this all too well
as we put in endless hours
of deep thought and effort
to mold a few letters and words together into
something never seen, heard, or experienced by another
to lift one's heart and soul up off the ground
or change or challenge a reader's perspective
on any number of the innumerable mysteries
and enigmas of life profound.
In sum, we strive to shed new light on those around.
Too often, however, our efforts fall far short
of those whose eyes we hope to entertain
and our endeavors appear to be all in vain.
But are they? While we may be writing
for the response and recognition of others,
above all, we should be writing for ourselves,
because at the end of the day, good writing
is an arduous, lonely and persnickety pursuit
towards happiness, self-satisfaction and improving
our own mental well-being and state of mind.
Writing builds character and helps us shine.
The ancient Greeks called it "Arete," meaning excellence,
or the extreme commitment to attain.
It's nothing new to poets or writers of any kind
or any other person who's dedicated
to being, doing and/or becoming the best
that they can possibly be
at whatever it is they're striving to achieve.
It's just a little something we would all do well
to remind ourselves from time to time.
When the recognition doesn't arrive
to fill our hearts and heads with pride
or obstacles stand in our way,
remember writing means more than what we say.
And blessed are they who think
in terms of Arete`.
Dear Abbieanne, my love life is in tatters.
All I seem to do now is blither and moan.
Absent a mate all my dreams have been shattered.
In spite of best efforts my prospects have flown.
I thought a good heart was all that would matter.
Indeed there are other traits I have not known.
Like brushing my teeth and taking a shower.
Plus shaving my nose so hair doesn't flower.
And using a mouthwash so breath won't offend
like a wealth of garlic and beer seem to do.
Or wearing clean clothes with no stains on my end
and watching my step so no doo's on my shoe.
And washing my hair. Deodorant's our friend?
All these endless tasks. Will I ever be through?
To my misery this letter will attest.
Very Truly Yours, Despondent in the West
Adorn yourself with vicarious, honest, enjoyable living.
Be someone else if you must, but not every day, and not all the time.
For your soul is waiting to treat yourself, delight yourself.
Enjoy a silken impetus, and a truly joyful exult.
Be whoever you want to be, and it does not necessarily have to always be you.
Safeguard yourself from your enemy’s jealous mockery.
Do not give credence to the angry looks or irritated smirks.
Save yourself by not caring, in any kind of way.
Lean rather toward your well-earned esteem, daily fulfilment and
The possibility of earning wealth and opulence through your own best efforts, and joys.
An unavoidable chasm with the naysayers might be exactly what your
Waiting expectant soul needs to never look back and enjoy every solid ounce of
The rest of your life.
Save yourself.
Be you, but in your
Own way.
Live big!
Written 8-21-18 Contest: 8 Word Challenge 8
Sponsor: John Hamilton
China laws philosophy…
Evil guts explained for evil moods. Much and more are tyrant wills. Easy bounces are Taiwan ways and wills. Taiwan peoples favored are peace. Muster one and gather all would be Taiwan forces.
Mutate life is times that changes. Solid laws are names that rules. Make our best efforts to build a better state.
Come expository teaching all may calm as laws.
China violent all are leader hearts. Fierce and cruel run the bloody worlds. Poses of Maoism get to lie to Marxism means. Equal laws should previous and pioneers all for china peoples. Powers must to you and toward U.S.D (humble workers).
Speak so stern and means to kill or oppressed some noble hearts that fight against commie by thoughts and speech. All enforced are martial laws are evil wills. So retained the truths our peoples need the rights. Cast our lights are better ways. China ways and laws are strict but wrong.
Literary persecutions all are china tyrant sins. China laws cohere needs are must for human rights.
COHERENTISM ways have cohered principals rater than abrupt china laws. MATERIALISM functions are central nervous. Most of all for peoples feels must be good. That is ways to china peoples. States are for peoples and with peoples and to peoples. Strongest laws should all with rations best to all. Rational psychology needs our views of breadth. Empirical says or rationalism both is rights. Laws and ways are both are forms reformed.
All our worlds may test by senses.
All our laws may call by cohered reasons that good to country peoples that come to best of earth. Natural laws have natural lights. Social treaties all are need abided.
Materialism equates our worlds of things and stuffs.
Who is who as only ideas? What is what as only ways?
However laws and matters all must exists even we are finished.
-----------Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3-----------
hi I'm Baxter Belknap Mandible IV
the Ninth Earl of Burneydick
I'll be heading your inner assault team
would you like the wine list
we have a nice Retaliation 666
somewhere over the rainbow
where every two-bit overheard whisper is an omen
and other vile statistical deceptions
where the big wheel spins like a drawbridge ratchet
but it never stops too many numbers
and the future continues to remain hypothetical
in degrees depending on the reading
an experiment in capitulation and submission
it was the War of the Parasites
but when has it been otherwise
this is a mathematical demonstration
bold as a distillery padlock
that insanity is the flip side
of merely more insanity
that would be Mandible IV driving
his dream hearse down memory lane
smoke from burning bodies
badly needing a wick adjustment
apparently fogged his lens
the horrors of the world are entertainment
weather permitting we'll visit the ruins
and insist upon representation
in the government Pilgrim Travel Advisory
you see the difficulty
serenity having been proven
a monstrous violation of reality
pause
every idea is a unit of measure
another pause
the pixels swirled and another
unholy vision drifted past in the tide
riveted to my screen
and it's trauma etched engrams
picked up on my middle finger antenna
in the last act you find out why
good bad and maybe mostly maybe
just trying to be more numerological
be certain of your conclusions
or call them something else
sure people's faces can be read
most are possessed by a mad hunger
or acts of cosmetic genius
proving it's more than brain chemistry
they told me that self-creation has its dangers
lots of mockery out there in hammer land
but there's no mocking your best efforts
kept them off my back for a while
set free for the propaganda value
and still always curious
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
NOTE: Sorry that in spite of my best efforts &
attempts the Poetry lines are breaking while
placing the Poem on PS. I have no idea why it is
happening. I have even deleted the contents and
have reposted the poem. No results till yesterday.
Ravindra K Kapoor
11th Aug. 2014
The Love Story of Kacha And Devayani
Part 7
Devayani
And you remember
Kacha?
How after hearing
Our duet love Songs,
The little fairy like fishes,
Often used to jump one after another
While running with our boat,
Sometimes touching you,
And sometimes touching me,
To convey their feelings and love,
And perhaps,
To show their appreciation,
For those melodies,
In which even,
The water creatures too,
Saw the images of our love
How you can forget
Such abundance of beauty and love.
You remember,
They used to vanish and reappear,
Again and again,
In the soft flowing water
Of the river Venu,
Till our songs were there in the air,
So that they may enjoy,
Those rare moments,
Of the melodies of our,
Unforgettable love tunes,
Dear Kacha. 22
Is it really possible
That no such sweet feelings,
Of love and enchanting images,
Of our sweet togetherness,
No longer exists and lurks,
In any part of your heart?.23
Ravindra
Kanpur India 12th Aug. 2014
To continue in next .......
Protected under the
Copyright provisions
of Poetry Soup.
Ravindra K Kapoor
NOTE: To know the
background of this
story please read Part 1.
NOTE: Sorry that in spite of my best efforts &
attempts the Poetry lines are breaking with extra
spaces between lines here and there. This is
happening placing the Poem on PS. I have no idea
why it is happening. Earlier I have even deleted the
contents and have reposted the poem with almost
no results.
Ravindra K Kapoor
18th Aug. 2014
The Love Story of Kacha And Devayani 9
Devayani
And you remember Kacha,
That in the season of autumn,
You often used to get lost,
In praising my beauty
In your poems and songs,
With the beauty
Of your dear Nature,
While watching the splendid treasure,
Of the forests,
And its falling leaves. 30
How such alluring images,
Which were so sweetly carved,
Deep in your heart and soul,
Have suddenly vanished,
From your mind and heart,
Like the glimmer
Of a summer clouds,
Dear Kacha? 31
Try to remember Kacha,
Those strong gush of,
Autumn winds,
Which used to take away,
The half hanging dry leaves,
From trees,
Creating the most pleasing,
Musical sounds,
Of the flying and falling leaves,
In the calm and quietness,
Of our lovely forest
Where we both
Used to spend lot of our time
In searching and collecting
The wonderful herbs as needed
By my father & your Guru
For making his magical remedies. 32
But in those moments,
You were often more fascinated
By the beauty,
Of those few golden leaves,
Fallen from the trees,
But staying in my hairs,
While kissing and playing
With the disturbed locks of hairs,
Which always inspired you
To create,
Some of yours most fabulous songs,
In praising the splendid beauty,
Of your dear Nature
And your beloved. 34
Can you recall sing those lines
Of your sweet song
Dear Kacha
Song lines Part 1
“My beloved’s face and beauty,
Has magical charms,
To attract anything,
In this wonderful season,
Of Autumn,
The shining tiny golden leaves,
Have come,
Not only to stay with her,
But to decorate,
Her long golden black hairs,
As a crown,
On Nature’s most beautiful Queen.” 35
Ravindra
Kanpur India 17th Aug. 2014
To continue in next.
Protected under the
Copyright provisions
of Poetry Soup.
Ravindra K Kapoor
NOTE: To know the
background of
story please read Part 1.
Last night my missus gave me oysters for my tea
I was really kind of hopeful for a night of tumble round whoopee
I showered and shaved, it helps to smell like a stud
But her half dozen oysters must have all of been duds.
Things were looking desperate so I engaged in some foreplay
Thats the thing that old men do when they want a roll in the hay
I grovelled and I pleaded, even whined like a dog
But for all of my best efforts all I got was a snog.
So should she ever come home, bearing that little wee blue pill
Don't think that I got lucky or had an evening of thrill.
Doe Ray and silly me began to bake
we dream't up a special taste brownie cake
the plan was as easy as one two three
it was time for some fun we did agree
following a recipe seemed simple
only thing my mind went wildly cripple
glazing a concept far too confusing
beating batters became quite amusing
somewhere our baking ended in white smoke
the whole party ended as a big joke
our best efforts could not get the right mix
our smoking became the recipe fix
concentration just ended in jiggles
our best efforts a gaggle of giggles
Feasting and exchanging gifts in full swing
On the New Year day in King Arthur’s court
A green knight armed with an axe enters
And challenges anyone present in the court
To strike him once with his axe on a condition
That he will return the blow in one year and a day.
Sir Gawain, nephew to the king accepts it.
He severs the Green knight’s head in one stroke
But he picks up his own head reminding him
To meet at the Green chapel in a year and a day.
Time passes, Gawain heads for the Green Chapel
Tired on the way encounters a beautiful castle
Where he meets Bertilak, the lord of the castle.
Next day Bertilak proposes a bargain to Gawain
Before going hunting that he’ll give what he catches
In return Gawain’ll give what he gains during the day.
As he leaves Lady Bertilak tries to seduce Gawain
Her best efforts result in just one single kiss only.
On return Bertilak gives Gawain the deer he killed.
Gawain returns the lady’s kiss keeping the secret.
Next day the lady comes and gets two kisses
There’s similar exchange of a boar for two kisses.
On the third she comes and offers a girdle to him
There’s exchange of three kisses and keeps the girdle.
There is similar exchange of a fox and three kisses.
Then, Gawain leaves for Green Chapel with girdle.
The green knight belittles Gawain in the fight
And he could have killed him but causes a small scar.
The green knight turns out to be Lord Bertilak himself.
It’s a game planned Morgan le Fay, King Arthur’s sister.
Gawain returns to Camelot wearing the girdle in shame.
My verse is free
My cadence my own
But maybe I should stick to
I Do Not Know
For trying to find
A pigeon hole
Constipates my poetic flow
While I love to cook
I love to taste
I'm hard pressed to follow a recipe
I'm here to admit
Despite my best efforts
It simply isn't me
So in I Do Not Know
I will push my poems
Such should suite me fine
There I can stick my rhyme
Wherever I like
Including where the sun don't shine.
Once upon a time,
Almost 6 years ago,
A boy met a girl
With his best friend in toe.
This boy and this girl
Became young love in its essence.
His best friend became what some would call
Her own personal hidden blessing.
His devotion for his friend
Couldn't quite bring him to confess,
But he cared about that girl enough,
To warn her of future distress.
After 3 long years,
Of the back and forth romance,
Their young love finally ended,
The girl was broken hearted and defenceless.
She had given her all
To someone who was only willing to take it.
The best friend tried to warn her,
But she couldn't see her lover fake it.
A year would pass,
Before the best friend would find,
His best friend's ex,
The one he longed to say was "mine".
A birthday of hers
Was his golden opportunity.
When he missed her night out,
He offered to take her to a movie.
She wrestled with the thought:
Do I open that door?
She kept pushing it off,
Until she couldn't avoid it anymore.
Neither one of them expected,
Or even could dream
Of all that would come
From one night, one movie.
A love affair of sorts,
Filled with constant ups and downs,
But despite their best efforts,
They couldn't help but stick around.
A year and 2 months
Of the greatest love that ever lived,
Was shared between these two,
Who were only just kids.
Neither one of them was ready,
They didn't know what to do,
They loved so deeply,
But this experience was so new.
A girl with a broken heart,
With no sense of true self worth,
Met a boy with a broken heart,
And the desire to move forth,
With her by his side,
Forever hand in hand,
Yet she felt she didn't deserve him,
And did what she could: she ran.
Now her love for him consumes her,
But his heart is in pieces.
Now he's too afraid of her
But his love he swears never ceases.
And she cries herself to sleep at night,
For the best friend she hurt foolishly.
And she prays for their future together,
The one he says can never be.
ACROSTIC ODE TO SINGAPORE
Urge strikes a feel and flow of obvious appeal,
See a tiny red-dot enroute to places,
Embracing the path of economic will.
Bestow on this land of many dear faces
Use of timely ideas and productive strides,
Yield to our people fond smiles and fine graces.
See this island nation in Asiatic tides,
Immersed with multi-racial community,
Now living the modern age with bustling pride.
Glimpse beyond the struggles of democracy,
Align the prospects of resolute progress:
Pursuit of excellence and competency.
Opting to serve the world via business express,
Reaching outwards and upwards through ample trade,
Exploring better ways and means to progress.
Join our contemporary lifestyle parade:
Open minds that make ordinary things great,
Yes we embark on a quest to keep our grades.
Now and here we gather our wits to greet fate,
Open our hearts to make lifelong learning fit,
Willing to work our way to wealthy estates.
Give all we got to spur progress more discrete,
Employ our best efforts to niche steady bits,
Trust in the truth to live our national grit.
Make what you will of our solemn choice of wit:
Echo our song beyond scenarios that pit.
(Notes: This work is an Ode written in Terza Rima. Each line has eleven syllables throughout for the tercet verses (3-line per verse) and for the final couplet of 2-line verse. I have also added a new part into this Ode: an Acrostic element. This is just an idea to make the composition more interesting and offer another perspective to the reader. This acrostic fit is definitely more cumbersome but well worth the wordplay and effort. Tell me what you think if you have a comment to make. Thanks.)
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Leon Enriquez
06 Mar 2014
Singapore
....useless undertakings....
...my best efforts were shot down...divided...fragmented...
...spirit pulled apart my exertion... dismantling me...
...I guess I was my tries....
....leaving me looking at how I was rejected by the universe...
So now, I no longer crusade for my own campaigns...
...the movement came apart and died.... and with it,
took my drive and the pride of my drive....
...it doesn't matter what my goal was...
...the attempts were my best...
...my all declined, resisted, turned away
when my all was me....
What can I say?
Obviously, my spirit is still broken
and time looms on.... and on and on....
I've grown unsettled not being whole....
....swimming amongst the puzzle pieces
that once held the picture together......
the goal disassembled....a result left in parts....
...and I long to move on, I do!.
...but action was what got me to this point...
...activity walked me onto the path of deconstruction
over and over again....
How can I move on?....
Can I operate without doing?
Can I proceed without process?
How God?
...How?
I know this isn't rational....
....just cause my words get me into trouble
doesn't mean I shouldn't speak...
....but my emotions reason for me....
....and this is how it feels, feeling more real
than breathe... than light.... than now....
these childish impressions leave me sensing
premonitions that dispute function as a problem
...I can't do...doing sends me destruction....
...but love is action...
... there is no other way...
...I need a miracle....
...a shift in perception...