Best Brooded Poems
Tonight I speak to you,
with a sober mind that
keeps my memories vivid,
and a melancholy mood
that reflects the deepest
darkest depths of my
dangerous depression,
Sealed with heartache
Stamped with the hurtful
indiscretions of a man made
ignorant by the reality of a
loss that eradicated his soul,
Be it prudent to allow my
reminiscence to fade into
the infinite background of
forgotten brooded teenage angst
My memories are empowered
by love, and by such an emotion,
have denied my will and become
personified to the point of eternal
embodiment, grabbing my tongue
and squeezing out ink used to
express the immortal affection of
its own first and only creed,
Thus by the mutual compassion
once held by our hearts alike,
The monster of your imagination
was born to a world incapable of
comprehending the love of a
creature for the love of his creator,
A creature who hides his face
for he is hideous without you,
Crushed by the harrowing
lightening strike of being
condemned to a life without
the bolt of love that gave him
breath, he becomes the lost,
Yet he devotedly searches for you,
as I do, as we both breakdown
screaming and crying out loud,
in harmony, "Creator, please...
Love me again.."
Prince of this world,
you've meddled in the affairs of mankind
since the beginning
From the time of the Egyptian pharaohs,
whose gigantic pyramidal tombs
had been built primarily by slave labor
A living testament to man's ingenuity and cruelty
Then you were behind the Assyrian reign,
carnage was the calling card hallmark
these fierce kings signed whenever they came
But the Babylonian kingdom you really liked a lot,
ancient free market traders and slavers
Their god was commerce;
they bought and sold any and everything,
they trafficked in any and every whatnot
Then came those warring factions of Persians and Medes,
pure lovers of aristocratic indulgences of greed
They would fight you to the death,
until the Greeks came along
and became the gold standard, the best
They loved to preach democracy,
they loved to practice idolatry
For every god you said you had,
those Greeks said they had three
The Greeks fell to the next kingdom,
not so much by war, more through debauchery
But the prince of this world
came out of the shadows,
and was moved to want to rule when the Romans came
They had them lying cats named Caesar,
and crucifixion was their favorite capital punishment game
The Romans learned a lot from their fellow Greeks;
give the conquered their councils,
give them a voice with a vote
Then let them exercise it wickedly,
declaring the innocent Jesus Christ guilty
Oh, the prince of this world
was as ecstatic as a mad despot can be
The Romans were the best kind of servants ---
they were cruel, they were hard
They killed you dead with no regard
But alas, even their mighty kingdom came to an end
Since then, all of his wicked servants
and their feudal kingdoms have served him well
But alas, it was the Roman kingdom
he brooded over the most when it came to an end
And it's been a long time, since the prince of this world
had a Caesar he could call friend
The day that followed . . .
Blossomed blue, bright . . . beautiful
Clouds towering into the heavens
Wheeling white, wonderful . . . wordless
The clouds danced in the expanse
Rolling on a sea of silence
Sailing soft, supple . . . serene
Saw nothing
Cared nothing
Floated away
Alone . . . . . blind . . . . . marvelous
mute!
The trees . . .
The trees reveled in their own wild
E m o t I o n s
Old Man Walnut – a true heart-wood
Big boned brooded black
Dark, dangerous, defiant
Lady oak took red at the edges
A deep striking flame-red
Her heart a luscious lively living green
A gentlewoman of a long experience
Patient, Peaceful, persistent and powerful
Elms burst yellow – effulgent
Cried for attention
Demanded attention
Wind whistled wantonly through her leaves
Tall, tenacious, testy, temerarious
Some of the maples slurred
A bright primary red
Like harlots laughing, listening, languishing
Showed interest but cared for nothing
The Sweetgums stood aloof
Star-shaped leaves
Like bruises oozing deep purple
At first draft
S N
T A
O K
O E
D D
Abused . . . abandoned . . .
alone
Crape Myrtles cluster together
Gossiping busy-bodies
Bursting orange with outrageous desire
Watching, wanting, waiting, wanton
Modest were the Aspens
Slender and graceful
Giggling trees
But where they were
They were so many
They could afford to be
Modest, monomorphic, musical, memorable
The Pines and firs
Raising forth green among the colors
Unchanging
Unwilling to change
Criticizing by their contrast
every other change
The Woods
The woods
The chaotic woods
The heartless forest
And the trees . . .
. . . . .The boughs, leafs, limbs, roots
That whole glorious community
Simply went about its
Natural business
Another day in creation.
Live and Love Generously
She sat there under a rooted lofty tree.. Shading branches and fanning leaves kept her company... The hissing of silence and the reigning of solitude driving her cold at home. She took a step out to let vanish the void that filled her chest. She brooded over herself the one of the past leafing through her memories... "That's the apple of my eye.. The lifeblood of my heart!.." She came to taste beauty.. To touch the very core of delight when He was brought to her life. Burning all the candles of her youth at both sides, extremely weary but profoundly contented. The echoes of giggles and whining a melody she did not cease to revere and treasure.. She kept cradling him in his most vulnerable stages of growth.. He kept clinging to her rocky power feeding on the fountain of her pure, generous, unconditional and infinite love.. She kept sharing with him his passion, his dreams, his world.. She kept showing care and interest to all that he adores even though it happened that she disliked it and abhorred. She kept living his very life as if she never existed.. She could feel the warmth of her home.. She could venerate the meaning of every single sigh, whisper, sound that could reach her soul from every corner of her home...
Fragile, vulnerable, nostalgic.. Tears betrayed her and found their way to her.. An ache piercing her heart, a lump clinging in her throat and drops of hurt veiling her eyes..
She sat there under a rooted lofty tree.. Shading branches and fanning leaves kept her company... The hissing of silence and the reigning of solitude driving her cold at home. She took a step out to let vanish the void that filled her chest.
Wedding bells rang this
Early evening:
We tossed seed
Into air hued
Lilac by shadow,
Laughing with joy though
Papa, he brooded,
And Mama’s red cheeks
Ran freshets of
Tears, brine for the
Years she pampered and
Loved, cared for her girl,
In hard times and good,
Knowing one day
Eros would call,
Tempting our sis, whose
Husband’s a fine guy who
Earned our acceptance and
Really deserved all our
Expressions of cheer and
Shouts of “Good Luck!”
Now, let’s move back to the bar,
Our newlyweds gone, let’s
Toast, again, baby sister,
One ravishing bride and
Married (believe it?)
On this fun, festive day, so
Raise high your charged glasses and
Roar with approval and let’s
Open more bubbly, abolish the clock, and
We’ll party like there’s no tomorrow.
November 8, 2016
Wild Acrostic Poetry Contest
(We Will Party Like There's No Tomorrow)
Julia Ward, Sponsor
The Second Wife
Making its round in the ever pervasive What's app world...
Is a creative and amusing anecdote to raise a smile of mirth... ...
A stressed wife, harried as always from the endless house chores....
Receives a disturbing call from her husband on the way back from work....
The loving husband, wanted to give his wife a surprise......
There was a new eatery in town, so he thought a take away dinner would be nice ...
Would be a nice treat for his lovely wife, a respite from all that daily cooking....
So he called up his wife, told her he'll bring home a dinner for that evening...
Now, that new eatery in town, it has a unique name which was catchy all the same.....
The Second Wife, emblazoned big and bold over its welcoming entrance....
In his call, said the husband, I'll bring dinner tonight from The Second Wife...
Take a break, no need to cook this evening, he said to his wife...
After the husband's surprising call about a dinner from the second wife....
The wife, she brooded and bristled at the thought of a dinner from the 2nd wife....
The wife was sorely hurt and became increasingly incensed....
Righteous anger in her being broiled and roiled inside...
How did her loving husband dare keep another woman on the side...
How can he be so insensitive as to spring this on her....
Hell hath no fury to rival the wrath of wife wronged like her...
In the intervening minutes waiting for her husband to reach her...
The furious woman plotted murder and planned vengeance to hurt...
When the hour approaches, she reached for her chosen weapon...
She strode ominously to the door, stood behind it, the rolling pin firmly gripped ...
Murderous rage in her heart, maximum damage in her mind....
Woe to the husband as he arrived, dinner in hand, relaxed evening in mind.... ....
The husband, he opened the door, packed dinner in his hand.....
He knew not what happened next, the poor man....
When the door opened, it seemed the world collapsed on the man.....
The hubby, now he is laid up in hospital, all bandaged up and clueless what happened....
Hohoho...
Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake
On a sweat sizzling and scorching summer day,
I sponged my eyes with chilled water and said good morning.
I showered my mind with new notions and greeted every minute.
I sauntered to living roomand took a lanky broom.
I brooded up the walls
And boomed to my pals
We stride on the streets
Besides enjoyed the pop beats.
We went to multiplex, watched a cinema
Trust me; it’s really a tragedy at the act of dilemma.
Where hero is tortured, villain is nurtured
It’s just a waste, proof is director’s taste.
Next day he went to an Indian Classic Baahubali.
It taught the director how to make a movie properly.
I brooded and pondered upon the matter pensively
A revengeful delight as SATAN'S might burnt to embers
While damning others lives, the vixen's tongue slithered smoothly
Her FUTURE plans poisonously clouded our family
Fire, blood, scissored clothes found their way in horrendously
Had read about the protective rings from our saviours
Faith in unchanging destiny made me pray fervently
And trust in the self testified against voodoo destroyers
The SAPPHIRE rock that our family treasures guardingly
Fortified the BLOODLINE from evil eye of beguilers
Bouncing back on the covetous even more ruthlessly
CREATIVE efforts of prayers obliterated connivers
Satan's, Future, Sapphire, Bloodline, Creative
14 syllables per line
June 2, 2016)
Timothy Hicks
9/14/17
Televisions getting muted
Signals getting lost or boosted
Meanwhile people hooted
Brooded and continually feuded
Was not one to make my drinks diluted
Made me snooze quick or feel rebooted
Having solutions
Handling problems without saying "Houston"
Already proven
Am only human
Not trying to jeopardize the world, because I don't want to see it ruined
Those that were undisputed
At one point or another, got uprooted
Who are you trying to kid
Hating is all that you did
Making sure, I soon win
And that I doom him(them)
Somewhat reclusive
Yet elusive
Not one to make excuses
Or rely on ruses
If you want to be intrusive
Then in the end, the evidence will be inconclusive
Went with and against the blueprints
How I meant to do it
Am one of the truest
With my music
Some folks scrooges
And others stooges
Grandma wore occasional brooches
Mom said boy stop being foolish
And so stupid
Took some cruises
Throwing up Deuces
California Fires Fueled By Das Don Trumpeting Hot Air ©
Dante's Inferno chokes breathable air
fiery flames fuel
state of emergency
president did declare
despite his disclaimer global warming
"FAKE," no matter glare
ring obvious indisputable proof, nonetheless,
the commander in chief
blatantly doth jeer
and doubles down ‘bad
environmental laws’ mare
reed with water
shortage explains conflagration,
oh...,and while he takes
a knee in prayer
(re: home companion fashion)
Thee Oaf blithely vouchsafes
courtesy, sans colorful swear
words plus (purportedly,
unbeknownst to him
marijuana laced powder milk biscuits
giving him courage - er chutzpah
as if he needed any) to veer
way off script of late spluttering, spouting,
and even spewing outrageous claims
that (YES) extraterrestrials rank as chief
villainous figures as
nonpareil arsonists this year.
This Lake Woe
begone Wharton warrior
no stranger to attribute blame,
where unidentified flying objects
affected intergalactic collusion
(hare brained scheme hatched,
engineered, and brooded
while holed away in his
Trump Taj Mahal) from
outer limits of
twilight zone) fair game,
not averse to accuse
Norwegian bachelor farmers
falsely, and even
Grimm folklore characters,
not outrageous to name,
he will continue to repeat falsehoods,
and later subsequently quote
himself without shame!
Flirty feisty fists pummelled pretty parts of her bare skinned body,
Lovers long lost in eyes the size of lies, decisive ties of their unwise love,
Hector hatching heat, his aching heart searching for a hopeless home,
Saw so silently the cynical smile of his partner's palpitant part,
Her smoothed skinned slender body congruently curved into his,
Their bellowing breaths singing soothing songs to earless walls,
Both similarly stuck in a soporific frame of time, slowly sinking down to truth,
Angrily aware of the love they'd never share, the happy lovers brooded,
Shamefully,
The loathing lovers hid under covers, rovers of love that met meticulously,
As fate would have it, Cupid rapidly read through, mixing up numerous names,
Hector fell in love with a woman, he knew he could never have
Fly with me
This poem depicts a beautiful picture of how God often set us up for success.
An Eaglet is hungry in his nest
His body steadied in a cold rest
Mom comes flying in an undulating breeze
In each flight, she came with empty feet
Mom pushes her little one out of the nest
The young Eaglet fell on his chest
Hitting his face against the cliff of the hill
He picked up a beetle and ate it; his first kill.
He stayed by itself, no longer brooded at night
As time passed he was airborne for his first flight
Mother pushes her little one in and out again
As he screamed for food over and over again
“Mom, what are you doing?”?
“Hey! Mom, what are you doing?”?
Mom flew by, dangling a marmot in his feet
The eaglet lost balance in eagerness to eat
The parent swung by, daring him to fly
Lifted up high, he gave it a first try
He sailed across the valley, almost tumbling
In an undulating flight, almost scrambling
He tried to get his bearing, still trying
And for the first time in his life, he was flying.
Louis the Fifteenth, king of France,
Adored Madame du Barry.
His royal ardor was not bound
To the person he did marry.
His paramour was hard to please.
The king brooded day and night
On what act of loving kindness
Might appease her appetite.
One day he called his jeweller,
Whose face turned pale, then green,
When told to make a necklace
The likes of which no eyes had seen.
Vanity of vanities! Let nobody forget:
All humankind proposes yields to a Higher Will.
For the king lay dead and buried
When it was time to pay the bill.
They asked:' Who has got the money?
Who is there so rich
As to settle payment
And haul us from this ditch?
Louis the Sixteenth was now king,
But not long on the throne.
To purchasing the necklace
He himself was prone.
His wife strongly objected.
She thought the whole thing crazy.'
'We need to spend on self-defence:
More vessels for the navy!'
Now Cardinal De Rohan was a worldly priest,
Not averse to 'oo la la.'
Especially not in the matter of
Jeanne de la Motte Valois.
As a young girl she was naughty,
But she confessed in style.
The priest let her off counting rosary beads
All for the sake of her sweet winning smile.
Jeanne told the cardinal
They could have a sales deal signed
As friends at court had signaled
That the queen had changed her mind.
The queen and cardinal soon met
And the queen signed with aplomb.
De Rohan was too befuddled
To sense something was wrong
The queen received the necklace
But the queen was not the queen.
Charming though the lady was,
Who knew where she had been?
The necklace was picked to pieces
And sold off part by part.
O woeful desecration
Of this glorious objet d'art?
The cardinal faced the music
A victim of delusion
'Gullable, not guilty,'
came the court's conclusion.
Madame de la Motte Valois
Had no basis for a plea
And she was branded on both arms
With the letter V.
This letter stood for 'Voleuse,'
Meaning in English 'thief.'
Somehow she got to London,
And there she came to grief.
When fleeing from her creditors,
She fell from an upper floor.
Those creditors she did escape,
But only at death's door.
During her interment
Wagging tongues spoke of her guile
But someone chirped in her defence:
'But she had such a sweet winning smile.'
Ah! The Realisation.
I brooded and cursed my life
Not knowing how to please my wife
I never felt love from her
But I felt dead without her
She was my everything
For her I was nothing
She showered some love here and there
Keeping me hooked on to love there
One day my heart fell apart
And I wanted to part
She just held on to my part
How could I now be apart
She played with me with joy
I like an idiot thought it was true joy
Little did I know it was a ploy
I was dancing like like a little boy
She went about her ways
Me doubting her no ways
She led the way
I followed her way
I thought she has gone astray
But it was me filling the ashtray
I wanted to give up my life
But it's tough taking a life
Then suddenly I realized
That life is to live and realized
Realized that it was an open relationship
And I presumed it as a monogamous relationship
I will now live an open relationship
Ah! The Realisation it's an open relationship