Best Dejectedly Poems
A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue,
Momentarily ignited by stray
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly
Spills
Into the trickling replenishments
Of many gushing and silvery little
Rills.
Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find,
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its
Back on the social conflicts
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome
Strife!
And still stood,
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost
Unawares,
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing,
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which,
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate
finality,
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold
Reveals.
A humble man is what I am before you.
You see, I am not worthy to say…
“Sir, may I have your daughter’s hand,
But please yield to your wife’s pleas:
Calm down a while as I explain what’s deep in my heart.
Why deprive your daughter of a possible life of pure bliss..?
Because sir, understand that love’s triumph seldom fails.
You see sir, “a humble man standing before you is what I am.
The love and protection you have for your daughter I understand.
But you see “simple is what raised me,
A simple man, with simple needs.
A simple man who is able to love deeply and fairly.
Yes I have made my fair share of mistakes.
Might have scarred an angel or two,
But who was ever born with a heart of gold..?
A humble man is what I am before you.
You see sir; the heart is simply out of our control.
How can one ignore a beautiful feeling?
A feeling that pulls hard at every fore of your soul.
How at some point we all wish we could roll over and forget its undying existence.
But sir, who was ever given a constraint heart..?
Yes, a humble man is what I am.
You see, I work sir, to earn a living
You may as you have, call it slave work,
Unworthy to have your daughter as my own.
But you see, these hands are built,
Built to struggle and earn a better life,
No man was ever born fulfilled sir,
And no man ever chooses to be born poor.
A humble man is what I was brought up to be,
But you see sir; it hurts me to see your daughter turn her face away
Turn away, to hide soft tears, which ooze dejectedly from her pure eyes.
What crime have I committed not to be regarded worthy..?
Because you see sir, at the end of the day love’s triumph seldom fails.
A humble man, with a heart that will strive,
Simple ways that will overcome all tribulations,
A heart that has been pulled from its place of sheer hopelessness
Hands that will slave for a better life and future for your daughter.
An upbringing that will sweep her off her feet every chance there is;
Is what I am sir.
So you see sir, please listen and understand that love’s triumph seldom fails
When two hearts are willing.
People like spokes of a wheel
Streaming in the church on a Sunday morning hill;
The preacher talks of the prodigal son,
While the gathering ends in a reverend song.
And Mama cooked a roast on Sunday.
The smell of the enticing pot
Of chuck and potatoes and onions, carrots,
Conjure memories of Sunday dinners,
Where a table was set for returning sinners.
And Mama cooked a roast on Sunday.
Filled and sleepy I had to wash dishes,
And left alone with my own wishes
That I, too, could nap while the folks read papers,
Instead of stuck with cloth and scraper.
While Mama left the roast on Sunday.
My mind would drift to people foreign thin, hungry and hot.
In other worlds across the seas,
And my young girl’s heart would dejectedly drop
Like my recent church bowed knees.
Where Mamas don’t cook roasts on Sunday
And now that I am old looking back on my life,
I hope my little coins helped feed a needy child,
Shooing away some flies from its mother’s eyes,
I pray that I’ll remember why,
Mama cooked a roast on Sunday.
He last had a pal in the 7th grade,
They shared a class from the 1st grade.
And together, for Home Economics,
they were always late.
But the seventh grade showed up, in its
claws it held their un-anticipated fate.
For death's heartless might had
snatched away the pal's dear moter,
The lad watched as he packed the
boots that both their feet knew.
Off he went to unknown horizons.
"I will write", is all he said.
And so, at the post office,
the lad became a familiar face.
"He never forgot me", he convinces
his lonely self everyday.
The 12th grade is his current stop.
He recently acquired a harmless infection-hope.
So, while he dejectedly kicks innocent pebbles
in the streets he's quite hopeful that the other lad, his pal,
will write..........or maybe tweet.
Word has it, though, that the pal was
seen somewhere.
He was wearing a black suit...
Word has it also that he couldn't make a conversation.
Instead of his trademark smile,
solemnity had found a home in his face.
There he was, stone dead.
"Maybe, just maybe, he will write",
thinks the nameless lad as he kicks a
couple of innocent pebbles while he threads
on one rugged path towards home.
And tomorrow he's going to the post office.
Let this rain rain
Let its shower pour
God's supposed blessings
The thunder is drumming
lightening strikes incessantly
the blue sky is downcast
Day has turned to night
Alas,i feel a drop
but that's all i get
For hours,i stare and yearn
For the downpour from above
Unseen hands keep it at bay
Immortal forces deny us of it
My disappointment reaches its peak
I scream out like a pained dog
ALLOW THE RAINS TO ROLL IN!
but to myself do my voice hit
dejectedly,i start to trot away
Alas,i felt two drops
The sky opens and it all falls down
I kneel and savor the rain's cold
The gods must have been listening
Mister Right and Miss Right met at church the other day.
However, they didn’t recognize each other.
And, too sadly, they didn’t know what to say.
They awkwardly looked shyly at each other,
Then they went each their own lonely way.
Fantasizing endlessly about Mister Right,
Miss Right pined “What could he ever see in me?”
Also dejectedly sulking about Miss Right,
Mr. Right mused “How could she love someone like me?”
Both thought there’d probably never be a Mister and Missus Right.
Individually, they both came to the same conclusion:
They both needed some drastic self-improvement.
Mister Right studied management skills for a better vocation.
At the same school, Miss Right learned to cook and gained cultural refinement.
As their paths crossed, they’d get into better conversations.
The moral is that it’s more important to be Miss or Mister Right than to just find Mister or Miss right.
Happily, Mister Right eventually lived up to his name
And felt himself worthy of charming Miss Right.
And happily, Miss Right also did and felt just the same,
And she walked down the aisle to become Missus Right.
The sun reaches highest point of the day.
But lower and weaker than evening of the fall.
The sun makes time shorter to stay.
And it rapidly intends to fall.
Sunlight comes obliquely,
My shadow grows longer dejectedly.
Wind throws fresh but freezing air,
Which people don't want to bear.
It is still cold on winter noon.
Who says spring comes soon ?
But look at the park over there !
Children under sunlight are playing cheefully there.
Currently I'm on moving to my client.
I was so encouraged at this brilliant ambient.
Fengleishanren.
The Sadness of Small Things
The tin of beans sits dejectedly on the shelf.
Why is it still there?
It's not like he's going to breeze through the door
Demanding beans on toast.
Not now.
But there they sit.
I don't even like beans.
I take them off the shelf.
I'll give them to the first person I see -
No, I'll leave them on the garden wall,
Someone is bound to take them.
Why didn't he take them?
He took everything else.
Why am I crying over a tin of beans?
I don't want his bloody beans,
I want him.
He wears his depression
like a tarnished, tattered,
scratched and dented halo,
scavenged at some demented
yard sale,
bought and sold on the cheap
(But, oh! The price he pays -
priceless!)
His pants hang
dejectedly, sadly,
drooping and dragging,
two sizes too large
His shoulders, dripping
with no self-confidence at all,
have given up
even trying to unbend, unstoop,
down-trodden, hopeless,
no energy,
no spirit,
no charge
His head hangs forward
on a neck with no spine,
cocked slightly sideways,
avoiding a long-ago
slap
a resounding shadow
of ancient, horrid history
still ever-present,
still looming large and very, very
still
Given the gravity
of the situation,
I can no longer push
the elephant
up his steep and treacherous
hill
Still…
No way is left untried, now
what a devotee is to do
to prove the depth
of his devotion to you.
No more bearable is
to carry the thought
of having been so thrown
in the lap of luckless lot.
So much apologetic he feels
for his words and action,
wholly left disheartened
at your insolent reaction.
A foolish fondness of the fool
has turned into devotion.
He ceaselessly worships you,
so sincere is his adoration.
You have cut him mercilessly
off from all your friendly ways.
Look, how dejectedly living
in solitude, he passes his days.
Your constant indifference
ceases not to hurt his heart
that has yet to learn to lead
life from his lively life to part.
He admits his mistakes
for which he does pine.
Remember, to err is human
and, to forgive, is divine.
So much sensitive in nature
you are, so much kind,
your loving looks give solace
to the disturbed mind.
Come out of silence
to shake his levity,
with a touch of wisdom
fill him with maturity.
Spare the blunders he made
that must, in no way, be done
and accept the devotion of
your devotee, your dear one.
IT SEEMS NATURE HAD OTHER PLANS
Our plan was to take a morning walk along the beach..as plans go it was a simple one…and once we arrived we headed south and east…toward the rising sun.
But a short time after arriving we soon became aware of what can only be described as an odiferous odor…wafting through the air.
We thought it might be red tide so…and since we hand’t walked too far…
dejectedly we turned around for the walk back to our car.
But then…for reasons we’ll never know…we felt almost immediately blessed…
because the odor quickly dissipated as we walked to the north and west.
We’ve walked this beach for many years…we didn’t think it held surprises anymore…but that morning we were treated to wonders we hadn’t seen or heard before.
The high tide had come and gone…we could see how far up the shore she reached…but what truly took us by surprise was, in her wake, what she left painted on the beach
Sea urchins, crabs, a sand dollar…a starfish…we wondered how can this be?
Shells in a multitude of shapes and colors as far as our eyes could see.
And we were not the only ones enjoying the tides early morning surprise…
there were snails, clams, oysters and crabs trying new shells on for size.
And if we weren’t feeling blessed enough seeing the sights as the ocean ebbed and flowed…out in water dolphins…pods of dolphins…began putting on a show.
They were swimming, jumping partying all the time while being fed…
They even had time to smile at the pelicans skimming above their heads.
Here’s an interesting fact…that might seem a little odd…
but a group of pelicans and a group of dolphins…they’re both called a pod.
Yes, walking to the north and west we were treated to a host of new and different sights and sounds….
And we realized if we wanted to catch the sunrise…all we had to do was turn around.
Our plan was to walk in the direction we alway walked…along the beach in the early morning that day…
But often we have found…the treasures that abound…when we let nature lead the way.
God's love never fails
Some live their lives all tangled...
not knowing what's in store
Falling into a drunken stupor...
when they wake they're wanting more
Criminals are getting wiser...
as innocents lie in their blood
God sees every little thing they do...
and HE remembers the flood
Chorus
And so HE gave- HIS only-begotten
to save us from this sinful jail...
If only- we repent and obey HIM
That's when...God's love never fails
There are fatherless children...
needy widows suffer too
They cry out to powers of heaven...
And HE knows just what to do
Some women kill their unborn child...
then dejectedly look away
They don't know if they're forgiven...
scared to face their judgement day
Chorus
And so HE gave- HIS only-begotten
to save us from this sinful jail...
If only- we repent and obey HIM
That's when...God's love never fails
Some steal to make a living...
train their kids to do the same
But, they don't know about their Maker
they don't even know HIS name
Greedy men who love their money...
They'd sell their mother for a dime
Sunday's come and go while they're on their yacht
For God there just isn't time
Chorus
And so HE gave- HIS only-begotten
to save us from this sinful jail...
If only- we repent and obey HIM
That's when...God's love never fails
Chorus
And so HE gave- HIS only-begotten
to save us from this sinful jail...
If only- we repent and obey HIM
That's when...God's love never fails
That's when...God's love never fails
That's when...God's love never fails
repeat and fade
John Derek Hamilton
July 25,2019
Huge worn stone lid removed
--- dragged to one side -
centuries ago, and not moved since ---
nestled in grassy pasture land;
cistern filled -
w/ cool rippling water -
brilliant and overflowing:
big open sky above,
azure, brighter, deepest:
one last dark cloud
dejectedly drifts away.
Deep pain penetrates my soul
Life has gone out of control
Agony is playing a devilish role
To complete its cruel role
Problems inundate to frustrate
I love to become Mr. Late
Heaven has closed its gate
Devil has come to investigate
Heart has lost fully all its hope
I am to hang search for a rope
I am sure for me there is no scope
With life I find it difficult to cope
She simply ignored my love
Caring not is this God-above
I feel like ending my life now
Will anyone teach me how?
If I am completely eliminated
And at the earliest cremated
Surely peace can be created
This is dejectedly by me stated
Let thunder fall on my lousy head
Let bad words about me be said
I wait eagerly to fall shabbily dead
Let devils drink soon my bad blood
I must be by Angels terribly cursed
I must not be by any one nursed
Joy and me are forever divorced
All my songs are only sadly versed
As no one likes my presence
Hatred I can surely sense
If a pen to write my hand opens
Even my ideas refuse me defense
O- God- I beg you to kill me soon
I want from you only that boon
Let me vanish like the cool moon
Crush my life like that of a cocoon
I beg you to consider my application
I love to enjoy this dying occasion
As killing is purely your avocation
To you I have given an indication.
mvvenkataraman
The tax bill came;
They could not pay.
Their bank foreclosed
That very same day.
They dejectedly walked away!
Another child;
One too many to feed.
The abortion clinic
"Took care" of their need
They callously walked away!
Young evangelist preaching;
On the corner of the street,
Desired that the people
And their Saviour should meet.
They rebelliously walked away!
They left this existence,
Very far behind.
Their names, in the Book of Life,
God was unable to find.
They sadly walked away!
Charlie Pelota