Best Curtailing Poems
An almost stillness came about
as she strode into my door,
like breath itself refused to move,
fearful of touching her mysterious beauty
But her obsidian eyes betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
she looked at me,
and I knew…
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Molten lava spilled forth from her mouth, melting our clocks—
eighteen hundred nightmares compressed in two hours.
Long hand moving forward, as the short hand moved backward
How can memories persist in such an acrid life?
She spoke of a beast in the guise of a man,
one who ravaged innocence with the flick of a click
A coward that collected milk teeth for hardened bones
of other horny beasts with no spine
That throaty tenderness when she spoke
sprinkled crystal seeds of frustration in me
She says he loathed him, denied she loved him
but her obsidian eyes betrayed her
There she was, a bud he plucked from the nuns’ garden
He grafted then he pruned her,
spreading her pollen, wafting her scent
yet folding her petals to himself
Caterpillars feeding upon her leaves,
she lets them devour her,
yet once they are wrapped in their cocoons to sleep,
she stabs them with her thorns.
Tears then slid down from her midnight lace eyes
and it was all I could do to catch them
She said she was weary of curtailing butterflies,
of tearing their wings before they can even fly
I had to ask, how many… how many winged gems?
She lifted her sleeves, and showed me her scars
One ugly mark for each innocent child plunged deep,
my heart getting slashed at least three hundred a beat.
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A certain stillness came about
as I strode into her door,
like fear itself refused to move,
letting breath touch her mysterious beauty for the last time....
Her obsidian eyes had betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
I looked at the knife beside her.
Maroon-mapped sheets, a stunted womb.
Strains of Bon Iver’s “Flume”
flit past the sighing air like a butterfly,
and I knew…
08112014
Almost all of us will face -at one time or another -
Dire circumstances dragging us into a deluge of misery.
Eluding woe is not an easy thing to do.
Less so for those quite disabled or born into extreme poverty.
Unless we are unusually lucky,
Grief will come and often as a gush engulfing us.
Enduring pain is mankind’s destiny.
Curtailing pain and sorrow, however, is
Our ultimate boon.
Multitudes of us each day see misfortune come our way.
Entirely expelling it is not God’s plan.
Surviving well, with faith and positivity, we learn empathy; we grow!
Written Sept. 1, 2016
Entered now for Brian Strand's 'COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (9)any form any theme' Poetry Contest
I come bearing a rare gift,
not something of material wealth
No silver, no gold ...
no diamonds, no pearls
No bearer bonds, no dollar bills ...
no rubies, no emeralds
I come with an even more desired thing,
the most precious offering someone can bring
I come with wisdom supreme
Accept what you want,
reject what you will
But know this:
Knowledge has a steep cost,
are you willing to pay the bill?
Your mind will learn of terrifying things
that will produce horrific outcomes
You will witness the apocalyptic path the future portends:
Inventions of destruction;
exponential scientific and economic growth;
enormous mass food production
Bringing to life policies of starvation and oppression,
curtailing liberty with freedom of speech suppression
Are you now willing to inherit the foreknowledge of the end?
Promises given of a life secured
in blissful ignorance of raging wars
No tolerance of religion allowed,
no mention henceforth of the name of God
The masses will be culled with a technological rod
This is the cost of knowledge you will come to know
Reject what you want,
accept what you will
Knowledge has a steep cost,
are you willing to pay the bill?
Although this gift is free,
the cost of having it
will burden your soul heavily
This is the cost of knowledge you will come to know
Accept what you want,
reject what you will
Knowledge has a steep cost,
are you willing to pay the bill?
This is knowledge some would die for,
and some would even dare to kill
Are you soul sure you're
willing to accept due payment of this bill?
We await the daily mail delivery with eager anticipation.
Alas, today came another batch of worthless information!
Of course there were the usual bills that arrive without fail,
But where's the check that guy promised would be in the mail?
We've received more return mailing labels than we'll ever use.
How our names got on their mailing lists, I have no clues.
To top it all, a summons for jury duty was today received.
Now that really ruined my day and left me sorely aggrieved!
A startling piece of mail from a realtor wanting to sell the house.
Thinking I had something to do with that really upset my spouse!
A blatant ad from a vinyl siding contractor wanting to make a sell.
Interesting we should receive that since in a brick house we dwell!
Another envelope had alarming news from the local funeral home.
Do they know something we don't know about a trip to the Celestial Dome?
Our life insurance company sent their usual annual birthday greeting,
Breathing a sigh of relief that our hearts are both still beating!
Lord have mercy and deliver us from this onerous perdition!
Curtailing this stuff would certainly improve our disposition.
On the computer I can simply stop such stuff by clicking 'delete'.
Oh, for such a simple system to make junk mail less replete!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
diamante
optimist
auspicious, positive
hoping, unveiling, explaining
enthusiast, energy - lethargy, fatalist
complaining, curtailing, groping
negative, suspicious
pessimist
"Lo! the dolphin dotes laughs
My passion is the maritime coast
'Ocean!' said I, 'thing of seawater.'
Oceans dolphins
In a kingdom full of coastlines
Eagerly I looked for the seaway
I crave the marine, more mare
That up bound jellyfish - that unbound jellyfish
I felt compelled to sniff the territorial waters
I am shorn of my catfish
I discovered the riverbanks
Suddenly, I heard some tiding
Rise, fly mighty dolphin up through the skies
And its eyes have all the ponding
Resulting and resulting with my pacific
But in the fact that it was fluttering
I had dreamed of ribs cluttering
Only this and a ameba
The west water whaling
The dry dock smiled
How they were curtailing, prevailing - derailing
I discovered the crayfish
I crave the marine, amidships maritime
Ah, distinctly I was swallowing
Rise, fly mighty dolphin up threw the skies"
11/19/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
A land sheltering 1.3 billions,
of varied creed and religion,
dated to world's history over a million.
Irrespective of nation's diverse region,
Indians hoist the white, green and vermilion.
Twenty - nine cultures standing united,
twenty -three mother tongues spoken,
yet this nation's bond remains unbroken.
United among these differences we stand ,
liberated from the colonial lands,
3.287 million sq km, it stands.
our borders and thoughts expand,
flourishing our croplands,
Fighting for our independence,
from our imperial monarch's dominance.
Our leader's expressed silent repentance.
Through the Indian independence movement,
they expressed their non - violent resistance
Curtailing East India company's strength,
our victory was at arms - length
fighting to create a history,
they laid the path towards victory
Our leaders wrote their own story.
making fifteen of August as an evidence,
to celebrate India's joy of Independence.
Human life deserves a platform to unfold
Away from straitjackets of pious scrutiny
Whose eyes, ears and hands feel so cold
They reject freedom and project a mutiny
Born from the scorn society pours on freedom
Curtailing every progressive move towards expanding
Frontiers of free thought, thought outside the stricture kingdom
Where dissenters earn the label of antisocial branding
Perceived by untested notions whose dubious value
Lies in objecting to new ideas, new approaches
To matters where life suffers because critics with no clue
Claim innovations and expansions in thinking circulate cockroaches
In citadels that preserve culture and tradition
To limit the extent to which inhabitants expand the scope
Life ought to enjoy without any undue restriction
Imposed by custodians of traditions whose pope
Preaches limitations on abortion and exploration of modernization
In the wake of disruptive technologies
That spawn conundrums in which efforts of socialization
In traditional societies and African mythologies
Die a natural death
When social media facilitate new ways of communicating and connecting
Whose wealth and health
Diminish and extinguish mores, norms and customs, projecting
Arguments whose cogent basis tenuous at best
Can’t stand reliability and validity
Scrutiny and which traditionalists attest
Matter to defend the utility and solidity
Archaic notions offer to society’s progress
In which the worth and splendor of life
Matters more than efforts to suppress
Moves to eradicate and eliminate wife
Battery and slavery in the context of gender based violence
Rife in African townships and homesteads
Where traditionalists promote the importance
Domestic violence plays in subjugating stubborn heads.
Out at sea for so long I fear my sanity's failing
Like pirates of old, trust in my vision curtailing
Are mermaids waving there or tails of whales flailing
Perhaps a mirage is where I seem to be sailing
Yet my great love for the sea is still prevailing
I close my eyes and lean forward over the railing
Breathe misty ocean air in, inhaling, exhaling
The unknown lies ahead with regrets behind trailing
My sailboat silhouette in the horizon impaling
Rocking to and fro over waves that I'm scaling
Through sun and storms, through raining and hailing
Smiling to stay afloat, with a bucket, keep bailing
When water came in I'm still singing, not wailing
Whatever happens now, this sure cured what was ailing
July 25, 2022
Sailing poetry contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
gilded servant
hyperbolic purveyor
sculpting truth
liberal spender
filthy lucre
licentious gain
promoting freedom
curtailing liberties
accruing power
crafting bills
self-serving pork instills
bankrupts nation's till
Dear Brain,
My dear brain, forgive me, won't you?
I've filled you with alcohol, time and again
My heart's silence drowning the head's tin can
Once and for all I am delivered to you
Forgive me, won't you?
I walk now in dry landscape
The full clarity of the mind's wrongs
Radiating against my neurons
Bristling against the inchoate...
Fix it, put it all in place...
Give me time, an agenda if you must.
Make me a shoe salesman, a bird-watcher,
A circus clown, whatever...
But keep and restore the Trust
Of the spirit--
(if I can't hear it
than they can't hear it.
If I don't sing it, its never been sung.
Though if I write it, I've made a puddle...)
Without it there is no sailing.
No joyous movement; only love's curtailing.
Forgive me, brain.
Sincerely,
The Rest Of The Body
sometimes they appear effusively ebullient
need curtailing, pruning
succinctness of clarity demands simple concepts
a fresh way to express tired vernacular
see contrasts that light and dark embody
simile is like a bridge, connecting this to that
ideas behind envisioned conditions
what is seen, what is known
cupid's arrow finding its mark
carefully selected properly place alliterations age
as fine wine, appreciating moments of the tongue
if cramped, forced to salute like a new recruit
become ill fitting as a six fingured glove
noticeable as a red light on easy street
onomatopoea telegraphs transparent thought
Ohhh, moment of culmination cry the lovers
adjust concepts, fit themes, clarify voice
say meaningful words of intuitive insight
gamble fearlessly, search for elusive quarries
loadstones of vocaulary
prized like adamantine crystals in kinberlite
you can have it all, heart's desire
etched tablets that tell of word's meaning
chisled till they're Rosetta stones
Belts, paddles, switches, and rulers were once instruments of punishment.
Although very rarely, in my early years, a belt was Daddy's favorite.
I was always a quick learner and never a glutton for punishment.
Some believe that both the home and the schools presently bear the
results of unwisely changing the rules with regard to curtailing
bad behavior. Others think, 'Good riddance'. Others call for balance.
When corporal punishment of kids was applied and acceptable,
whether handed down at home or in school, there were always
those who never seemed to be persuaded to alter their behavior.
As a result, punishment was repeated whether proper or not.
Neither the applier nor the recipient ever learned any lesson.
However, there would be tears, sometimes by the applier also.
I suspect both learned "To WEEP THE TEARS THAT NEVER LEARN".
Perhaps the misapplied method was bad medicine for Donnie.
Perhaps tenured teacher Miss Peterson wept tears of failure.
It should be noted that life is complicated and gives rise to many
mysteries. Such convoluted mysteries often force us "TO WEEP
THE TEARS THAT NEVER LEARN". As for corporal punishment, I wish.
I wish that it had been abolished when I was a kid. Many troubled kids
turn out to be the best of citizens. And I've observed that many parents
and teachers despise the pain medicine they administer. Need I say More?
When you feel like a small fish
In a very huge pond
Do you remain in your corner?
Do you make yourself known?
By splashing water all over
Or do you hide your capabilities
So that no one knows
How good you really are?
The best would be to continue to swim
Irrespective
If you want to splash, please do
If you want to take it easy, feel free to do that too
No one can control you
Except your mind
And your curtailing thoughts
Of what others think of you
©240620171945
Embracing Poetry
Freedom on the lam, where the poet sings
To hearts that are imprisoned against their will,
Inspires the bereaved mind to spring to life
And uplifts hearts to bloom and burst liberated
When the pain of incarceration ceases.
“Gloria excelsis” in the world.
Frolic away, poet, and tell the world,
Encouraging bosoms to join in song,
Birthing new beginnings where weed growth ceases;
And let fresh hope generate unfalt'ring wills
Smothered with deeds abounding with liberties;
Death is certain, but poetry is life.
Martyrs forced into cages forfeit their lives
While conquerors plant flags around the world,
Stealing wealth, and curtailing liberties,
And muzzling the lips of those who would sing
Of freedom’s great joy without broken will,
With gladness boasting liberty’s song ceaselessly.
Were I to stretch the cage’s bars ‘til strength ceased
And purge authority aspersing my life
And mock their failure to immure my will,
As I sail poetic rhymes in the world
With hearts of fellow poets yearning to sing
Vociferously with new liberties.
But destiny’s path squashes liberty,
And lungs collapse when inflation ceases.
If evil is not rebuffed, who will sing the babe
To sleep with dreams of a future life obtained
Through sacrifices for Erato’s world,
Inheriting bold character and will?
Still, they rehearse scripts to truncate my will
With mulct and abrogate my liberty,
But not you, dear poet. Nix not of this world,
Whose toes skip over bloomed fields while mine cease
To dance in delight to the verse of life—
Ill speak they your name, forbidding me to sing.
Ere my will dims, indulge me with a song
Describing life’s passion for liberty;
Let my heartbeat cease in joy from the world.
***
Notes:
Gloria excelsis (Latin): Glory in the highest.
Erato: muse (Greek mythology) of lyric and poetry.
Urania: muse (Greek mythology) of music, song, and dance.