Best Bitter Poems
As a misty autumn succumbs to winters harsh chilling grasp.
The sky turns bleak and hues of shrouding grey.
The ominous days unfold shorter and colder.
The remnants of vegetation lie pitifully withered and sparse,
as nature rests dead and in the throws of decay.
Early morning frost like sprinkled powder
smothers a barren land
and shards of ice hang from naked trees as fingers of a hand.
Dew drops appear like goose bumps,
along a parade of wrinkly naked trees.
Bare branches and rooftops seem lifeless,
as birds have no desire for frosty serenades.
Trampled iced leaves, decay in ashen damp air,
as snail-like sluggish humanity adorns its seasonal fleece.
Despite winter's scentless bitter breaths,
the soul ignites an internal bonfire -
radiating a vigilant glow to the surface.
Silent One collaboration with Peter Dome.
13 November 2020
Thank you Peter for this brilliant collaboration.
Peter is a very talented poet, please check out his poetry.
It was so long ago
true love I thought I knew
and it was lovely as a ruby rose.
Like Romeo and Juliet were we,
pledging our love forevermore.
But can a rose stay fresh and lovely
even when the weather
continues bringing sun and rain?
And can the sweetest day
stay shining with no nightfall -
except in one’s memory?
Like a lovely rose, you vanished.
Unlike the rose, however,
you didn’t simply fade away.
Instead, you ran from me,
and unlike the sweetest day,
you did not even leave me with
a twilight to gaze upon
as you fled away.
We’d called it a forever love,
but now I know
it was a withered rose
before it even started.
You vanished like the sweetest day,
but bitter only
is my memory of you.
October 19, 2022
for JCB Brul's Inspired By A Song - Once There Was A Love Poetry Contest
As a misty autumn succumbs to winters harsh chilling grasp.
The sky turns bleak and hues of shrouding grey.
The ominous days unfold shorter and colder.
The remnants of vegetation lie pitifully withered and sparse,
as nature rests dead and in the throes of decay.
Early morning frost like sprinkled powder
smothers a barren land
and shards of ice hang from naked trees as fingers of a hand.
Dewdrops appear like goosebumps,
along a parade of wrinkly naked trees.
Bare branches and rooftops seem lifeless,
as birds have no desire for frosty serenades.
Trampled iced leaves, decay in ashen damp air,
as snail-like sluggish humanity adorns its seasonal fleece.
Despite winter's scentless bitter breaths,
the soul ignites an internal bonfire -
radiating a vigilant glow to the surface.
Silent One collaboration with Peter Dome.
13 November 2020
The pains of those ailments that grab us at will
Once better, like stalkers, can linger on still
But it’s patently true that life’s bitterest pill
Is the pain when it’s someone you love that is ill
When struck down, bedridden, we try to be brave
Though we feel our survival might be a close shave
But we’d gladly accept our God’s beckoning wave
If that keeps our loved one away from their grave
*
And so when I hear that slight tremor of fear
No hug and no words for the one I hold dear
Can bring forth a smile full of genuine cheer
And that forehead kiss… conceals my own tear
At night, to the God in whom I don’t believe
I sheepishly say, “I don’t want her to leave.”
I snuggle up close, I’m not ready to grieve
And I smile in the morning as I hear her breathe
The doctors I’ve trusted I must trust in still
For they’ll mend her again; I’m sure that they will
But it’s patently true that life’s bitterest pill
Is the pain when it’s someone you love that is ill
I fear for you,
much as I fear for me
or for others like me
who may be here
for longer than I’d like to be.
But more than that,
I fear for you
nearly as much as I fear you.
The world so big
and overpowering and cruel,
and you so small
and young and exposed.
We’ve ruined you, I think,
and all that we’ll leave you
is just as badly ruined.
I fear for me
as I fear for those like me,
and I fear for you,
but more than that,
how sickeningly I fear you.
15th Match 2019
From The Saddest Depths Of Bitter Despair
Within this heart love born
once beloved now scorn
fills each little crevice
life seems out of service
bitter cold turns the wind
dark sets its pains to send
Alas! Loneliness reaps
broken shards into heaps
while moonlight will not shine
on these blues I now dine
and the aches seem endless
here, I am now friendless
dark on this soul assails
nobody hears my wails
In this chasm I soft weep
So, so cold, dark and deep
Within this heart love born.
Once beloved, now scorn.
R.J. Lindley,
Dark rhyme
( From, In for a penny, in for a pound )
Bitter Harvest Of Thy Wickedness
Thou hast slain thousands for that golden throne
Sleep in peace upon a silk laden bed.
Why now in old age, do thy dare to moan
In deep fear of ghosts of those murdered dead?
Are not thy treasure vaults filled to the brim
With stolen wealth from lambs of this dark world?
Yet thy black heart, feels the murder of him
And that Heaven bolt that may soon be hurled!
Triumph in destruction tis' bitter fruit
And thy wicked soul now sees the true light
Yet thou sprang from dark tree's most evil root
To try to bring forth never ending night!
Thou hast slain thousands for that golden throne.
Why now in old age, do thou dare to moan?
R. J. Lindley,
Jan. 11th, 1980
Acidulous feelings of hatred
perpetuates those heart
revenge is born in the dark.
The end of this road is death
where equanimty is destroyed
with irrepairable damages.
Love starts excruciating,
the deepest scars with
impossible recuperations.
What did you see in me uncle?
How could you even hold me tight?
I was born just a few months ago
My tender body still didn't grow.
I slept by the side of my mom
You have shown her the smell of chloroform
You took me away from my lovely home
You made sure that we are all alone
I opened my eyes to the harshness of your touch
I realised that I'm no longer safe and sound
I cried in pain until your palm closed my mouth
I shook with fear and my eyes searched for mom
You didn't just squeeze my skin but crushed the puny bones beneath it
You didn't just kiss my lips but caused my tender tongue to bleed
Your fingers ran across every corner of my shivering little body
Your pricky moustache irked every bit of my trembling nudity.
I tried hard to shout but my voice melted in the fearsome silence of the lonely night
My eyes searched for my mom's arms but I couldn't realise that they were beyond reach
My breath choked to survive under your violent paws
My life helplessly moaned beneath your wild claws
Who are you to pluck this mom's little flower?
Who are you to burn down a father's happy hour?
Who gave you the right to vandalize my unborn future?
Who advised you rack my bones to showcase your musculature?
Goodbye world, I'm leaving.
Your retribution on him should serve others, a learning
Don't just do a few candle rallies and forget me
For, within no time, another tender stem falls out from a green family tree.
Pure virgin flowers,
Kissed by Winter’s frosty lips:
Prudish affection.
There, watch, the clouds part and light shafts blackest night
particles of doss drift through a ray of white.
Ah, revelation unasked for, and unwanted,
coming endlessly unasked, and never daunted.
I see the bitter blight of man's neglect lay
upon the once fertile field of summer hay.
I see a mighty ocean writhe and foam, die
and n'er a voice is lifted, n'er an angry cry.
I see children put their parents out to die
and parents who accost their children with lies.
Ah, revelation unasked for, and unwanted,
coming endlessly unasked, never daunted.
Blinded by the first morning beam
Intense infatuation of adolescent love
Triggered emotions. His beguiling charm
Tightened its hold. But a flaw in the scenario
Entangled the script, and the seducer, less his veneer
Retreated into oblivion, leaving a broken heart in disarray.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Through the schoolyard running as shadows grow long
and the late day sun feeling warm and strong
I'm loving this vision that I am seeing
of children at play and as one in being
They illustrate just how life ought to flow
with effortless laughter and faces aglow
One day they shall look back at these very times
and perhaps write them down while grasping for rhymes
I think I'm in need of someone to say
that in spite all of this everything is okay
But I feel like I'm trapped in some miserable cult
which summarizes perfectly being an adult
We've lost something, each of us, since we were small
If life were a pitcher, it threw us a curveball
As I watch all these children, so happy and free
in joyful oblivion to the world I see
It's clear now that it was too bitter a cup
to drink for the sake of being grownup
I traded my childhood for what I've become
the cruel reality has stricken me dumb
I never saw coming my innocence lost
Never knew of a line I unwittingly crossed
No refunds are given, no way to return
this one-way transaction continues to burn
If I could have seen a sign or a door
or a clear way to know what I was in for
Behind is where I would have chosen to stay
And right now I'd be one of these children at play
Twelve little girls and eight little boys
Each one the source of their parent’s joys,
Innocent children following rules,
Paper and pencils their magical tools.
Holidays coming, rehearsal of plays,
These were the most exciting of days.
Safe in their classroom as their teacher smiled
Noting the presence of each beloved child.
No inkling of trouble, no feeling of doom
Until a mad man invaded the room.
I so hope these children had no time for fear
And had no idea that death was so near.
Six brave teachers went to their deaths,
Protecting the children with very last breaths.
The big gates of heaven then opened wide
For six teachers ushering children inside.
Twenty small children are angels today,
And six faithful teachers in Heaven to stay.
Mothers and fathers and siblings and more
Are mourning their loved ones whom they adore.
The teachers who willingly gave up their lives
To protect their charges were daughters and wives.
Some had their own children whom they left behind.
No braver soldiers could one ever find.
A whole town is weeping for dear ones they lost.
How long must innocents bear the high cost
For folks who clamor for right to bear arms?
You’d think such mayhem would lessen guns' charms.
These things will keep happening, the danger unchanged,
Until we keep assault rifles from hands of deranged.
bitter fruit
cast from rotten trees
bear no seeds