Best Choosing Poems
Even as a child of God -
when it came right down to it
she stood firmly on her child’s side -
not God’s
.. and damn
how I envied that..
my friend
much to my dismay
chose a parent
as a closest confidant
breaking all laws of teenage angst
and going against
all preconceived
conceptions, norms and nature
I watched as they walked
a harrowed path together
mom being there for child —
smugly snuggly hammocked
in her emotional safety net
.. and damn
how I envied that..
I walked my path alone
because my mother
would have chosen
God’s side...
.. and damn
how I now envy that..
Susan Ashley
September 9, 2018
~ Ninth Place ~
Contest: Truth Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
Don't fall through the cracks,
through the floorboards
past the pipes
hot water hissing
grey metallic stun gun dull.
Don't land on the basement steps,
slipping on down
bumping the back bone
breaking the fall
with your body gone white like you know it so well.
Don't let the swallow of house
and of home
consume you
in solitude's
greedy embrace
Don't wish the outside
would stop looking in
and impute ugly motives
to trees and to flowers
who have your best interest
in chlorophyll hearts.
Don't taste the floors
on your way down to hiding
Don't dine on splinters
and varnish and wine
Don't master silence
when no one is looking
Don't close your eyes
and pretend you are fine.
Don't slip on sentences
you uttered years ago
down in the basement
in pipes
steaming hot
Don't waste your sentiments
or your existence
on hiding the fact
that you are
what you're not
Don't laugh at paintings
with eyes that console you
on walls that you hung
last July on a whim
Don't think the walls
don't expect you
to call them
if you are in trouble
and losing your color from somewhere within
Don't apply pressure
to fissures in floorboards
to fit your way through
and become
what you lose
It's a lot stronger
to stand and absorb it-
surroundings adore you,
implore you to chose.
I'm stuck in a puddle of mud,
unable to make a quick decision...
whom should I choose from among
others who have been so noble and kind?
More than a name comes to mind:
Linda, Carrie, Deborah, Catie, Rhoda, Danielle, Charmaine and Karen...
please don't be envious if I choose Carolyn!
You all are beautiful sweethearts, and I wouldn't sell you for a song!
After my day closes in, I check my soup mail...and there they are
those wonderful names flashing on my computer's screen,
and dazzling like precious gems in a crown! Many more should be
mentioned, highly praised and underlined with a marker:
Andrea, Emy, Joyce, Constance, Iolanda, Elaine, Laura and Carol.
One thing I can attest, nobody is greater than the other,
because they all have captured me as I have caught butterflies
with features so distinct and feminine as heroines of modern times!
Carolyn, be dazzled and feel proud, if not hysterically happy;
and if my choosing is fair, why should there be any contention,
or envy among them...I am pretty sure that they have secret admirers,
who in the same manner of awe and respect, constantly worship them!
Cheer up ladies, I have mentioned you all in my praise poem,
but only one gets this special rose...I hope they will send yours today!
I love you all as I love Carolyn for her honesty and graciousness,
then why don't you congratulate her and deepen your admiration?
My praise poem is dedicated to Carolyn Devonshire
living in Florida, USA
The weight of old age increases with time,
dragging spirits down a depressive hole.
And taking pills, prescribed to ease your pain,
the last years are anything but sublime.
You question if believing in a soul,
is vain.
You squirrel away cash you'll never spend
just in case hard times should show up again.
But you pray you'll never need that bankroll,
choosing to believe God’s will, in the end,
will reign.
(Curtal Sonnet)
6/27/2021
Eighty-four pounds at age 27
An illness nearly claimed my life
“You have an option,” the doctor said
But the choice was one that cut like a knife
“Pray for a miracle; linger in pain
Or negate any chance of having children”
My husband had died, my hope long since drained
In a sense I already felt barren
No way to rejoice, given such a choice
Knew I’d never feel like a real woman
So I sought guidance from my inner voice
Made the sign of the cross, said, “Amen”
“Do it,” I cried, tears welling in my eyes
My body dying, I saw no option
It seemed better than facing my demise
This was my darkest hour without question
Career struggles I faced in years ahead
And there was no man standing by my side
Empty within, faced the future with dread
Had I made the right choice? Still can’t decide
Perhaps a miracle would have occurred
I believe God watches over us all
But to a pain-free life I had deferred
Instead of trusting blessings would befall
* For Ryland's "Darkest Hour" challenge
A lighter view of the Devizes Neighbourhood Plan
referendum on Thursday 17th September
My alarm clock shouts at me with noisy voice
“Wake up! It’s Thursday and you have a choice!”
Of what to have for breakfast, eggs or bran
And of voting or not voting on the Plan
I’m not that sure quite what it's all about
Perhaps I’ll go online and check it out
The library know their stuff, they’re pretty fair
Could ask at the Town Hall, there’s people there
That funny poet woman says “Vote Yes”
Or otherwise the town will be a mess
Without a Plan we just won’t have a clue
Of what outside developers will do
But other folk are saying “No! Vote No!”
I’m so confused about which way to go
If I don’t vote I haven’t had a say
It’s only a few moments from my day
I’m going to go to town now and the Market
Could take the car but it’s a job to park it
Might take my bike or simply take a walk
And wander round and meet some friends and talk
I wonder what they think, I’ll ask their views
They might, like me, be wondering what to choose
Meat from the butchers, or some humble spam
Or whether to have a quick one in The Lamb
I’ve chosen breakfast eggs, I’m on a roll
I’m going to town, I’m going to simply stroll
I’m going to look at options and take note
I’m choosing choice and I am going to vote
If stuff goes wrong I’ve got till ten o’clock
The day is long, I’m on it (where’s that sock?)
by Gail
April 15 Scripture Meditations Based on Nehemiah 9-11
Key Verse – Nehemiah 9:7 Thou art the LORD the God, who didst choose Abram, and broughtest him forth out of Ur of the Chaldees, and gavest him the name of Abraham.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING ME
Thank You for choosing me toward sin-separation
Allowing me to admit my iniquities before You with sincere consecration
Letting Your forgiveness work through my repentant confession
So I can forsake abomination-corruption’s transgression.
Thank You for choosing me toward law-book reading
Allowing me to seek Your will with Your leading
Letting Your Spirit enlighten my understanding
So I can vanquish allurements that cause my backsliding.
Thank You for choosing me toward praise-worship
Allowing me to delight in Your warm fellowship
Letting Your presence revive my prayer-relationship
So I can progress in Your entrusted stewardship.
Thank You for choosing me toward covenant-faithfulness
Allowing me to exercise diligence within Your pledged goodness
Letting Your promises uphold my vow-fulfillment’s steadfastness
So I can continue in doing Your assigned tasks with my joyful willingness.
Thank You for choosing me toward service-performance
Allowing me to sacrifice by Your gracious guidance
Letting Your power move my labour of patient endurance
So I can bear fruits by Your productiveness-assurance.
Thank You for choosing me toward kingdom-advancement
Allowing me to show Your ready pardon and merciful ways’ involvement
Letting Your kindness inspire my testimony’s commitment
So I can minister well while obeying Your commandment.
April 15, 2022
I am not responsible
for the ache that blooms in others
when I place my name
above their expectations.
I have spent lifetimes
softening my voice,
shrinking my needs,
turning myself into a bridge
everyone could cross
while I remained unseen.
No more.
I refuse to apologize
for setting boundaries
where I once offered blood.
I refuse to carry guilt
that was never mine to hold.
My choosing myself
is not cruelty—
it is survival.
It is the long-delayed breath
of a woman who learned
that love without self-respect
is only a slow disappearance.
If my growth unsettles you,
let it.
If my no feels heavy,
place it down—
it was never meant to live in my hands.
I am allowed
to protect my peace,
to bloom without permission,
to walk away from rooms
where my silence was preferred
over my truth.
I choose myself
not to wound the world,
but to finally heal
the woman I abandoned
for far too long.
And that—
that is not selfishness.
That is coming home.
when choosing between known safe sameness and true craved change -
let
no
fears vote
A zig of happiness sparked the upper peninsulas
Of my wildebeest heart, a mere tich.
Could that teensy beginning shake my
Anger, which I had determinedly
Held onto for three weeks longer
Than anyone sane should have?
Come on, the spark said, laughing. Come
And play. We can be mad tomorrow.
I was not in the least bit tempted.
Stubbornness held me fast.
I refused her offer, the lifeline
She was giving me. I ignored the
Light, and held on to my
Enmeshed hurt feelings,
Holding onto my rage
As a shield, afraid of whom I
Might become without her.
God in His great mercy for this world
purposely chose a people for His own
this is proven in the holy scriptures
God's truth that He's spread to be sown
In John's gospel 6: 37 Jesus says
all the father gives me will come
for all that come He shall receive them
this His sovereign work so never be glum
Also, John speaks of man's inability
in 6: 65 where Jesus speaks true
that no one indeed can come to Him
unless the Father draws them to do
Paul speaks in Ephesians 2: 8 of faith
that this saves them by His grace
nothing of their own doing, just God
unconditionally saving without trace
This sin-sick society needs a certain cure
a cure which is to get a knowledgeable true view
of God and His purposes to grant repentance
when society stops suppressing truth, God knew
God in eternity past before life planned it all
unconditional election is based on God alone
God is just always and in His electing love
Christ died for those He chose as His own
( 'All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.' John 6: 37 (ESV)
'And he said, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.”' John 6: 65 (ESV)
'For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God,') Ephesians 2: 8 (ESV)
A clown car or an elevator?
A forest or a meadow?
Sad or happy?
The choice is yours.
Pink polka dots or Linen Gray?
A kitchen accident or a freight train?
Joyfulness or Melancholy?
The choice is yours.
A magical kingdom or a jail cell?
Pie or cheese?
Excitement or Boredom?
The choice is yours.
Choosing Me
I sing today with a joyful heart,
for the dark-clouds had left from wavering over the top.
I wake in the light of the sun now,
and the birds once again sing with me in a relay.
The flowerings' spread all about in the fields,
with the thickets alongside them in balance.
The scent of the lavender and lilacs; I do thee smell,
brings about the enrichment of what you brought to my life.
The hours of my yesteryears will never fade from you,
for you have not only shown what the meaning of life was,
but the bliss of the purpose is hard to fathom.
Thank you, my love, for choosing me!
He is an oppressive Master of the House
commanding all to follow his beat;
that on a last desperate evening,
I plead relief from his vile craving
When a violent urge attempts to devour my honor :
Through rotten laughter, my primal instinct
Rises---fear to dignity—lunging extended stabs
Upon his bestial chest until red of blood
Taints night’s floor with liberty's pure scent
Washing me a young overseas maid
Far from home yet boldly affirming
Life’s valuable birthright.
*Inspired by the story of Sara Balabagan,
a maid-servant who killed her employer
to protect her dignity.
A Debbie Guzzi Contest … 1/17/1017
You Say You Want A Revolution
Your wife sits beside your bed holding tightly your hand
Smiling although she's grieving, just trying to understand
You pulled out your feeding tube, chose your right to die
To go on without you after 60 years, she fights not to cry.
A stroke 6 years before left you paralyzed on your right side
Unable to speak, walk and eat, simple bodily functions denied
Life changed drastically, you needed long term nursing care
That I met you through these circumstances is truly unfair
Without food and fluids, you wait until death makes its claim
I believe if I were in your shoes, I would choose to do the same
The years of anguish and pain you endured has taken it's toll
Courage and strength amplifies as you access damage control
Don, you always gave me a smile that brightened up my day
With head nods and eye contact, you were always able to convey
That you were happy to see me and listened to all that I had to say
You'd nod and listen to my stories, I hoped I chased your blues away
I requested that you be my guardian angel when it was your time to go
You nodded with the sweetest smile that my tears threatened to overflow
Donald it was an honor to have known you, I have the utmost respect
For staying longer than you wanted, your love ones you wanted to protect
We'll all find comfort in knowing that you'll suffer no more
You had a long good life, a loving wife and children to adore
Now you will watch over us and guide us spiritually when we need
I have a feeling you'll be good at this, a special angel, oh yes indeed!
*Don was a resident of mine, he died 12 days after pulling out his feeding tube shortly after his 80th birthday. RIP Donald aka my guardian angel.