Best Bothering Poems
We buried him under the large yew tree,
We all wore thick face masks as they should be.
The shade of the green yew tree was pleasant.
Yet we all knew the poison there present.
It was not his wish to bury him there.
He died under the tree eating a pear.
Little bothering about deadly fumes
His mind elsewhere humming her loving tunes.
The yew yielded a deadly red berry,
Fell on the white pear, tasted like cherry.
They spied him there, dead, under the yew tree.
All left to enjoy the breath of the sea.
Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.
Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.
Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.
God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."
I think I'm getting older ~ there's difference in every way
Body doesn't feel the same ~ on an ice cold Winter's day
What's really bothering me ~ is how my mind has changed
Now I listen to hearts aloud ~ in the howling of the rain
I think I'm getting older ~ silver fox hair on display
Not the Loverboy I used to be ~ sometimes I wish I'd stayed that way
So I'll face what I have to face ~ wrinkled up I'll push ahead
I think I'm getting older now ~ it's hard to get up off my bed
I think I'm getting older ~ vision seems a little blurred
I might not hear everything ~ but somehow I read your every word
What fascinated me for years ~ just goes by blowing in the wind
Autumn leaves are falling~ and I'm back to earth again
Once more you appear, crossing my threshold
after breaking the lock to memory's door.
Your illusion enters without bothering to knock,
stepping into my room as a wavering shadow.
You breach the barrier of cries and goodbyes,
escaping from the grave where lost love slept.
I wept long ago and swore an oath to my heart,
never would I allow you in, as a lover or friend.
Tell me, against your invasion, how do I defend?
How can I restrain you from entering my thoughts,
and if I knew, would you still haunt my dreams?
Through eyes blurred by streams of warm tears,
would you leer as a voyeur, lurking at my window?
Why do you channel the deep furrows of my soul,
gazing at me with mournful eyes blackened by kohl?
I've given up pretending that you're not here.
Here, in the chamber where we were never apart.
Please leave me in peace if you once held me dear.
On velvet nights when the moon is fully ripened,
I'm still drawn to you like the magnetism of her pull.
I tremble each time my lips whisper your name.
With each intrusion, I am powerless to defend myself,
for my heart wears no armor, my door has no sentry.
Vulnerable mortals such as I, must bear this burden
when a wraith from an erstwhile love desires entry
October 14, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 17 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Originally posted in May of 2018
IN SHAME
When I was a little girl father brutally beat me down with such severity, and humiliation, causing me to hang my head down low in unimaginable shame.
When you saw me in public, I was so intensely misunderstood defeated and defaced; but you only looked at my shameful head down, never bothering to try empathy.
When you didn’t ask what was wrong, I felt absolute aloneness in that I could not recount the horrific details of my life without feelings of devastating loss and unworthiness; it was safer to keep my head down.
Still, today, I consider myself a mere passing shadow, meaningless to this earth, so I remain head down with the deepest shame yet, as I breathe in poison that may cause my demise.
After all the battles I fought and survived, I fear this one is my last with head down praying for God’s mercy, forgiveness and His rescue so that I will not perish in this ill-fated manner.
I implore God not to see me with grave disappointment but to graciously pardon me, and though I still cannot raise my head without shame, nonetheless, He will raise me up to the Heavens.
Finally, I remain tragically sorry for my failure to break free of this tormenting mental anguish, however, I beseech GOD and All of you to see my courage and not my failings but instead be proud of me that I fought this long, lastly I plead that you always Remember My Lonely Wounded, but Loving Heart…
I, remain, Sincerely Yours, Diane Perna
THE BRIDE
The day is finally here
The groom has arrived
Here comes the bride gorgeously dressed
Her beauty shines like the harmattan sun
Her smiles are bright like the full moon
Little do you know she is sad in her heart
But i ask WHY?
She begins to cry for the day has come
She leaves her beloved mother
She leaves her wonderful father.
A day she forget being Aunty mi
A day she end calling daddy for everything
A day she end bothering mommy on what to eat
A day she stops spinster life
An entry into a mixed journey of a new future
A day she take up a "Mrs"
Oh! Here comes our bride
Sobbing on exit from singlhood
Again I ask, for WHERE
But to a place she has to start building a family again
In tears she hugged her beloved mother and she said cry not my daughter
In tears she kneeled before her wonderful father and he wiped her tears
Finally they both said, make us PROUD
WHEN I’M AN OLD LADY (many happy returns)
When I’m an old lady, I’ll live with my son,
To look after his mum is sure to be fun,
The joy it brings him, will thrill him to find,
He is able to share his home and be kind.
Of course I‘ll expect to live there rent free,
The same as he did when living with me.
I’ll raid the fridge, leave a mess of ice-cream,
Sneaking his chocolate, Cadbury’s white Dream.
I’ll go out with friends and party till morning,
Only come home when a new day is dawning.
After showering, I’ll leave clothes on the floor,
No one will see them, behind the closed door.
If sometimes I’m told to tidy my room,
Pick up my clothes and try using a broom,
I’ll hide everything, way under the bed,
After that effort, play loud music instead.
Whenever my friends come home with me,
I’ll suggest they all stay and have tea;
My son’s wife won’t mind, may give me a look,
I’ll prime them to tell her she’s a great cook.
His car I will use on Saturday and Sunday,
I’m sure he won’t mind, he can use it on Monday.
Not bothering to buy any petrol you see,
I’m always broke he has more money than me.
If I need extra dollars, I’ll borrow from my son,
Knowing he loves helping his kind loving mum.
I’ll forget to return it, may only be about twenty,
I doubt he would miss it, I know he has plenty.
I’ll hog the TV, by hiding the remote,
Then watch all my soapies, and silently gloat.
My son thinks he’s much smarter than me,
But I’ve been around a lot longer than he!
When I feel tired and fall asleep in my chair,
With mouth opened wide, and tussled grey hair,
I’m sure he’ll look at me with eyes almost weeping,
Thinking how peaceful it is when I’m sleeping.
…when I’m an old lady and live with my son.
Copyright © Vivien Wade 1989
Coffee aroma tingling the nostrils,glow of the first sun ray on the skin,
pleasant sight of a blooming flower--all have become bygone,
since man is busy chasing money.
Smile of a baby,beauty of a drizzle have been forgotten.
he is so focused on goal that he no longer
looks at the field he is playing in.
Greed to be at the top,has de-humanised him.
everything has become a battle and each one a warrior.
is this really what a life is worth?
everything in the nature enjoys being itself and lives in harmony except for us.
he is the only one who keeps track of time and chases it
down but in vain.
in the midst of tall and glass buildings he forgot the shade of trees.
he progressed in tech but fears himself.
invented weapons but always afraid of the inner self.
talks good but thinks bad.
no one has set alarm button for life except for man.
schedules fare for machines but man is living in it,
though when its hell,making others jump in the well.
A river does not create a new flow but flows to create a path.
only flows forward and never looks back what it has gone through.
not bothering about the journey.vigorously flowing ,assimilating so many new things.
A beautiful world is to be enjoyed now,not yesterday nor tomorrow.
An hour spent with nature is worth more than thousand lives.
Hope a day comes when man lives his life and letting others do the same.
When I look into your eyes
I see right through
To the back of your mind
What’s bothering you
Everyday you carry guilt
Never bother to pick up the phone
Just to straighten it out
But it seems you want to be alone
You say you want to make up
The lost birthdays and years
For destroying our family
For the dreaded tears
Over a year no letter in the mail
Over year there’s no call
Over a year no sign of life
Over the years you never cared at all
You only want to get it out
Just so you don’t feel bad
Only for your benefit
So your life is no longer sad
Y say you want to be close again
By buying me anything I desire
But love you can’t buy
So all you are is a liar
I know you have regrets
But you’ll eventually pay
You might be happy again
When you grow up one day
You let the pain stand in your way
You tried to block us out
But you only put distance between us
Now your own kids you know nothing about
You never know what to say
Being selfish and covering up the pain
Never saw what it did to us
Tired of losing now you want to gain
Over the years I forgot how you hurt me
I forgot to call you dad
I forgot you all in all
I forgot everything bad
You say don't talk about it
You say let it be
You say its too dark
And the words are scary.
Don't speak the unspeakable
Let the rape and murder
Remain a headline to disappear.
Don't discuss the pedophile
Who isn't bothering your child ...
Yet.
A moviestar father talks to his daughter
Like she is crap
Just another rap
All he has to do is apologize.
Thats the new deal ...
just apologize
And It will pass and be forgotten except
For the darkness of her pain.
Her pain that will remain
Forever.
I am sick in this darkness
Oh God, if you exist
Please help me undo this twist
Of the knife in my soul
Of the rage that I feel
This can't all be real
Oh God what have we done ...
How could we?
How could we?
High coffered ceilings,
an odd filtered light,
mote constellations adrift,
rooms enfilade...
In the room at the far end
— the kitchen, it was —
I met my dead grandmother,
her crooked corpse
bothering a hot stove,
boiling up a pot of her
awful, brown, sticky soup.
She turned to me, as if to ask,
“Do you want a bowl?”
Startled, I turned to leave
(She was a ghost, after all...).
Her boney hand,
still holding a soup ladle,
brushed my right shoulder.
I turned. She whispered,
“You had your chance.”
Knock, Knock!
Who is it that goes there,
It is me; I am in your air,
And a deep root we share.
Knock, Knock!
What on Earth do you want?
It is me, the one they daunt.
But you and I have to jaunt.
Knock, Knock!
Would you just go far away?
It is me, and forever I’ll stay.
I ‘m here giving you the way.
Knock, Knock!
Why must you keep bothering me?
Because you are one of me and see.
I have come to set souls totally free.
Knock, Knock!
Have you not been here a time or two before?
Yes it is me; I will always knock at your door.
You’ve buried me alive deep inside your core!
®Registered: Ann Rich 2008
Every time I look I see a different face,
As the media gathers pace,
In the influencing race.
No longer in the news business,
No longer bothering to clean up their mess,
No longer checking before going to press,
No longer thinking about mases to impress,
With no more mirrors in the place,
For the past to embrace,
It is now all about the modern face,
And it's influence on the race,
With few caring about the hardship investigative reporters face,
If they have too many facts to put in place.
It is only a matter of time before the media will have to face,
Up with a "we misjudged the mood of the public face",
With little chance of another "thanks for the award face",
With every chance of no "poker face",
As they will need a "change of heart face',
Before the music they have to face,
For undue influence on the outcome of the human race.
Oh how on earth did the media ,
Get such an idea,
That influencers would for them, be there,
When there were so many of us who could see what was living there,
That influencers are masters of what people want to hear,
And are more worried about how they look on air,
And how much money can be made from them being there,
Than how many facts they produce for us to hear.
I wonder how the media will respond to what is here,
How much influence I have to spare,
And how many new faces I will be shown this year.
When the earth crumbles
Into something foreign and
Suffocates me—dead
Like a spider in the water,
I realise what has been bothering me all along:
It is my own mortality
A distant song
A bad fatality
A cool, unopened telephone
A modern dial
What’s the use in trying
To make life what it will never be
A pleasure is not what life is about
Because around you people are dying
And there’s no time for crying
So what is there to do
When the earth crumbles
Into something foreign and
Suffocates me so that I’m foreign, too
And everyone around me is foreign—dead
—Alive—wishing to be dead—wishing to be alive-
Wanting to give
What we don’t have to give,
Like a man inclined to drink himself to death
On an evening like every other evening
On a night like every other night -
I take the shining bullet
That my father left behind
Because what use is there to live
In an alien world where everyone is alien to everyone
And wishing to break free, not to be alien
Not to be sinners but to regain redemption
We’re all so sorry for what we have done
When the earth crumbles
Into something foreign
And suffocates me again so that I am dead
And the bullet that has often shined doesn’t seem to shine so much any more,
I will escape all that is alien by shooting myself in the brain
And hope that death is not alien
When I have always suspected that death is the same
Shelly said that Darlene said that
Tina said that you are an ignorant fool.
So?
Jinny said that Zinna was rolling her eyes at you.
Farina said you have cooties.
So?
Do you want to hear what Allie said about you?
No, thanks.
Minnie said….
“I don’t want to hear it,” I tell her, skipping away.
“You are a poppie butt!” she yells after me.
Thank you, I yell back.
“You are CRAZY!” she hollers, angry now.
“THANK YOU!” I yell louder.
“They were talking trash about you,” my friend tells me.
Wait a second. This is my friend?
“Are you going to talk to them about it?”
No.
Are you going to fight them?
I throw back my head and laugh.
Once I mastered the skip away, the stay away and the thank you
Bullies had no power over me.
They started bothering others.
I try to teach my friends
Bullies will leave you alone
If they don’t think you are getting mad or sad.
Being so danged light skinned .
I had a terrible time mastering
Those telling pink cheeks.
I had to practice with
Trusted friends,
By letting them calling
Me names and practicing
My strategies.
The Keep Away.
The Skip Away.
The Thank You.
Believe me,
I now have it right.
No one bothers
Me now.
It’s simply
No
Damned
Fun.