Best Concern Poems
Remember all the Wise Men on their knees upon your yacht?
With orphans on their backs they’d crawled (with others that they’d brought)
Through rubble on the highway sands and residues of Lot.
They came from severed cities selling postcards of your thoughts,
Though offered for a penny piece, not even worth a jot.
They mused
“How are you feeling? What it is you want, you’ve got.
The words you scrawl on calling cards: ‘I AM – the others NOT’
Shun wisdoms of the Seven Seas: ‘Salvation can’t be bought’ –
Your fathers tried before you and your fathers came to naught.
“You started out by gelding goats and then by casting lots
Of bodies to the battlefields, contorted, tight and taut,
Then wallowed in the wake of trails the dervish devil trots.
“With marching bands of fatherlands, and drums of Hottentots,
You lure your legions in harm’s way like giant juggernauts.
Like Tweedle Dum your minions come (the sober and the sots,
The troglodytes, barbarians, and mislead patriots,
The Vandals, Huns and Hannibals and seaport Cypriots,
The Japanese, the Congolese, Americans and Scots)
To vanquish bows and arrows, spears and catapulted shots
Of those who hide in bamboo huts their families, pale, distraught,
(Their withered wives with dried up breasts, their swollen babes in cots)
Who swoon, engulfed in poison darts and vats of acid hot,
Consumed by magic mushroom clouds, atomic megawatts.
“In churches of your deities, your Holy Huguenots,
Your Imams, Rabbis, Voodoo Dolls and Mitered Lancelots
Lit wicked kindled candled walls in temples (while we fought)
(Used pins and needles, magic spells on makeshift mock whatnots)
And mosques, cathedrals, synagogues have blessed each new onslaught
With prayers for pipers, puppets, pawns, your rigid armed robots.
Continued in Part 2…
Continued from Part 1
“Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.
“You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.
“In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
“The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.
“In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.
“While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”
Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.
But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…
End
My Lord,
Give us the will
To overcome our heartless indifference for
Those who suffer
So as
Able us to be,
In the ever-stretching desert of apathy, your
Seed of concern to sow!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
02 NOVEMBER 2014
I walk with a silence to my step,
as if in reality they never took place.
A shadow cast upon what has been done,
evidence misplaced.
Seconds merge into minutes, minutes which remain endless.
Days stand without weeks moments reign endless.
Does the mind play tricks, or do the thoughts stay mine.
Without word spoken, whispered from lips to allowing ears,
lies the moments experienced within the years.
I often wander from life's rules,
flounder thru issues days will spool.
At those times, you gentle my view.
I am blessed to be loved by you.
If I hide when morning arrives
renewed strength comes from your blue eyes.
Your presence stays my spirit's hue.
I am blessed to be loved by you.
I sometimes bruise when life turns tough,
void of humor and light mood fluff.
From your touch warm healings come through.
I am blessed to be loved by you.
Your heart tendered concern and care
gives our companionship sweet flare.
Just loving memories accrue.
I am blessed to be loved by you.
I pray to steer your life complete
as our love is a two way sweet.
Joy is life viewed as just we two.
I am blessed to be loved by you.
Sinking into a True Despair
It’s like trying to shoot a monstrous ghost that you can’t ever see,
and, at the same time, this applies when one wants to kill a rumor,
and where everything is just like water running off a duck’s back,
and when you can’t see the source of it as it disappears over time.
Yet, if this leak becomes a true object of issue and a real concern,
then all the damage is irreparable and beyond any hope of saving.
It’s at this stage that we choose to cut our losses and to move on.
And, why not? Despair is always a part of the human experience.
Yet, where there is “despair” there can also be “hope,” if each of
us have the courage to summon it and to never take counsel of
our own fears. Hope can spring eternal, if the human will is stout
and courageous. Let us hope so and make it so!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
July 5, 2021 (Verse)
Freedom is when there's nothing to gain
But blessed relief from the constant pain
Of outward show and hidden plot
Freedom is when concern is not
I am aware of the dangers of being judgmental
When it comes to the so-called celebrity “faith leaders”
However, calling them out, in my opinion, is elemental.
I cannot understand how they can bathe themselves in luxury
Talking about the lowly Jesus and his teachings
At the same time, milking those living in abject poverty.
While most of the world’s population are hungry and cold
These perfect examples of hypocrisy and opulent greed
With novel political connections become increasingly bold.
Television evangelists have access to the homes of the masses
Selling listeners worthless, blessed doodads and trinkets
Under the laws for religious exemption, avoid paying taxes.
Astonishing statistics revealing some of their astonishing worth
Make me question whether some of these “preachers”
Would consent to their own life-changing regenerative rebirth.
Their finances come from those least able to contribute
Whose hard-earned money winds up in their deep pockets
But this, you can be certain, they will hasten to dispute.
One of these evangelists is said to be worth over $40 million
Travels in his own airplane, preaches a prosperity gospel
His palatial home (he owns two!) is worth over $10.5 million.
The richest “man of God” I will not name--might get sued,
But, it is said he is worth over $300 million dollars,
Flies in his three private jet planes, sometimes comes unglued.
Beware, beware the nefarious dealings of these rich hypocrites
Whose nebulous prophesies over time have never come true
They will surely be held accountable for their media-age blitz.
Written March 27, 2021
Today, it is a sunny Thursday morning in April, and my body
aches like it does when a rainstorm hits, and I am regrettably
bitter about it because in this very moment in time,
I am still waywayway too aware
of this world.
My horoscope tells me that it’s about time to get rid of some of
the baggage that I’ve been lugging all around town with me.
But (apparently) I haven’t quite
figured out where to
put it all yet.
And it’s times like these where I try to fool myself into thinking that
I’m actually good at things – regular things that other people
are especially and typically ordinarily good at.
Like, writing poetry or scrapbooking, or bigger-deal-things like
showing up to work on time.
And I’ve been waiting to tell you this without blinking for once,
and I’ve been actively searching for that relief everyone keeps
saying is buried deep in that one place that’s also hidden
underwater somewhere. So if you could feel the
blood in my veins, you’d know what I mean.
I’m anxious to feel the exact moment when the morning sunlight
hits your cheek and your irises slowly dilate with the rhythm of
your heartbeat, and I would memorize it all so perfectly,
you would’ve thought it was just a simple feeling
to give away.
But it’s impossible to sneeze while keeping your eyes completely
open and I may be just a little pessimistic about some stuff
every now and again, and I know that it’s been
a really long while since we’ve touched,
but you still look the same to me.
My soul knows you, for your kind words
Though we shall never meet
Poetry written, friends answer
Time, as life, bittersweet
Slowly crossing this spacious Earth
Poems from no address
Empty hands stretch in silent mirth
Mind's touch, I'll confess
I've come to know the gentle heart
And always found a smile
Replies given for worthy art
Warms human hearts awhile
Beautiful poems written down
That reach the reader's sense
The friends I've found in foreign town
Have hearts that are immense
To whom it may concern
I'm already prepared to learn,
To learn the life, life long teaching
There are some goals I need to be reaching
People tells me that, I'm all so young
Really, there's no need to be concern,
So curious adult life could be
But they keep saying relax and be me
From infant to toddler to teenage lifehood
All so much, I'm misunderstood,
Adulthood is so intriguing to me
But they keep saying relax just be free
It's much easier said than done
All I've been trying to do is have fun,
My life as a child was very, very complicated
I use to get so mad and frustrated
Growing up so fast at a young age
I only had time to just turn a page,
Still there are life lesson to be learn
As I continue to write, To Whom It May Concern.
When the sun isn't up, there are no shadows
I need a peaceful haven to refuel my arrows
If we substitute the stud hopelessness
We heal our scars amid sleep and sleeplessness
As a trusted guide to the world of dreams
Fall short of expectations; broke his screams
My sanity would be complete upon his return
As life stresses me out, little stays in an urn
Peace can only be found through serenity
I'm scared of violence-laced profanity
My only option is to hide behind walls
That will restrain the restless evenings at calls
Let me retreat within myself and find peace
Or hopes that fade and eventually cease.
Written: May 24, 2023
i see
they wander
your eyes
through space
through time
their worry
a distant glare
lost they quiver
unsettled in their haze
your silences
your every thought like loud denials
i understand them well
those blurts of fear
the muffled words smothered censored
for fear they can never be unsaid
seeking first a peace
delicately balanced deep within
stabilizing the inner sanctum
making sure words ring true
for fear of death and dying
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~CENSORED~ 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Posted on October 2, 2019
a silence falls
with heavy heart
and breath caught short
beneath a moonless sky
while a shadow of an echo
resonates as if to say
i told you so
i told you so
AP: 1st place 2023
Night hours linger
breathless
I hold your hand
together wait
for the pain
to subside
I don’t dare
fall asleep
wrapping gently
my arms around you
to keep watch
all night long
kissing your ear
releasing whispers
of I love you
I don’t dare
fall asleep
AP: 3rd place 2020
Posted on March 1, 2019