Best Despairing Poems
Into the timeless wood he fled, running from the night
While demons of his past gave chase beneath the pale moonlight
The man dressed in soiled rags, filth of his own making
Had spent a life unto himself, all others there forsaking.
But in the night, as shadows came, though nothing made a sound
A voice there in the dark he heard, though no one was around
Calling out to him by name, “Go… seek the blood stained bridge
Its ageless timber, dogwood made, up on yon high ridge.”
Somehow, he knew the voice he heard while running from the night
Was not from friend or foe without, but came from deep inside
So run he did through elder wood, to find the yon high ridge
The Voice there still was guiding him to reach the fabled bridge.
In agony, all power spent, found he the edge of night
His demons dogged him all the way and pressed him for a fight
The host advanced and pushed him back, back toward yon high ridge
But, when he turned to his dismay, he found no “saving” bridge.
He questioned if the voice he heard and trusted in the night
Was naught but wishful thinking; a last ditch hope-filled lie
In anguish and frustration there, he stood in fear and pain
And cursed his stubborn nature that kept him bound in shame.
Despairing for the life he’d lived, in fear of coming death
He fell there on the shifting sand and cried with his last breath
“I’m sorry for the things I’ve done and regret the life I’ve led”
He turned then to accept his fate, but there appeared the bridge instead.
The shadows all began to fade, his soul started to mend
As he took the first step ‘cross that bridge, the night came to an end
Waiting on the other side, the risen sun in brilliant light
The Voice within him beckoned, “Come,” then freed him from the night.
~Christopher Thor Britt
In those bleak fields that so quietly lie - stilled as graves,
Between where the thin wind creaks and upwardly heaves,
Unseen feet can sometimes be heard
Shuffling through the old woods discarded leaves.
For i have seen those strange distant lights
That detach themselves from heavens spilling crowds;
When dropping over the blindside of the little ridge
They rise to leap from cloud to cloud.
Impossible angles of inexplicable darting momentum -
Inwardly gyrating wheels now ingeniously turning;
Marvelous these the strange crafts of unknown design...
Yes - I have seen the night skies burning!
For well i remember as a reckless child
How i stole out to ascend that one forbidden hill:
Cast deep plans, set the clock ticking accordingly,
Rose, wrapped myself against Novembers raw chill.
Deep inside the Beech-hanger the Plough was struggling,
And over the despairing holt a devisive breeze...
As, of a sudden, on the edge of swirling darkness -
Showered particles upon vapourous ethers so violently seized!
Oh the hissing bolts of sizzling electrons -
Brilliance of colours like a dying meteors last rites!
Anti-Graviton paradox of mastered equational conundrum
Igniting the latent freeze within winters sharp night.
Radiant orb held aligned by polar-opposites forceful lines,
Spinning upon a singular point with such consummate ease;
Roaring furiously liken fabled dragon of Arthurian legend,
Hot breath licking across lines of illuminated trees.
Momentary seconds that crept alongside an age enraptured
Amidst tumbling thoughts of - "Just another Alien abductee"!
Then, gently tilting starboard, accelerating smoothly away,
Vanishing over the stacks and tiled rooftops of nearby Walton-Lea.
Often have i wistfully pondered in ever hopeful, watchful years:
What was it so witnessed as it hung before me in suspended flight?
And - with many cramming thoughts - groping for answers sought -
Recalling the wondrous moment of such an awe-inspiring sight!
Shadowland
Chained to the addiction of tempting Fate
What if I told you that my life was once like yours?
Torn between love and hate
A shadow silhouette lurking between life and death
Fuelled by an emptiness to which I couldn’t relate
Caution to the wind of besting the best,
A devious test?
Sweet sensations winning an egotistical contest
Life on the edge, merely a precarious precipice
Exhilarated ego threw flames to the flame
The fire inside couldn’t be tamed
Comforts of home failed to exist
Love I yearned for endeavoured to resist
Mind effortlessly lied, failing to grasp the illusion
between confused, lost and utter delusion
Life on the streets a means beyond the dare
Sink or swim baby, did anyone care?
Till the one eventful day when I chanced it too far
Catastrophic event out of nowhere in shape of a car
A sickening thud
My frivolous life paid in blood
My death in vain and loss of blooming years
Too late like acidic rain flowed those tears
What if I told you if you don’t already know?
The concise connotation
through electric flashes of blue and red
of the loudest despairing dread
When they zipped the bag and pronounced you dead?
And you become a glimmer that nobody sees
and the silent scream that nobody hears
Except other shadows between worlds
In an intermundane space
Torn between abstract, physical and a forgotten face
Temptation came as I sat here waiting
To switch sides, she urgently advised me
I saw through her guise, this diabolical entity
I’m not an Angel that fits in your regular category
So, I spat in her eye and called her a name
Oops! sorry Lord forgive me I know you heard
Some of my old sass remains
Still new to the game
Yes, understood, it’s a crying shame.
So back to my story
Redemption came in the grand scheme
I was one of the fortunate few redeemed
So, take heart, kid, abandoned to this shadowland
Not anymore
No more a wandering weary soul lost
Fate was not kind it was never your fault
Conducting your journey
to me the charge has been given
Through a leap of faith all is forgiven
As fiery beacons
Blaze
And cut through the
Night;
As restless sleep
Doth so tax and
Trouble me;
And I hang upon
A promise:
That my love
For thou
I did most fervently
Swear unto thee!
As icy comets roar
And sail against
The galactic tides,
Their streaming tails
Lingering upon a
Solar wind,
I will grasp
This one last chance...
To bare my soul
And chasten myself
From all my sins.
Then immortal wings
Will downwards sweep
From heavenly ramparts
Where divine Angels
Do so keep...
To gently raise me
To my feet,
And, softly brushing
The dust
From mine eyes,
Lift me high
To be seated down
Before the wise.
Whenceforth,
Hence so empowered,
Whilst slumbering
Fantasies
Once more take flight -
Unremitting and
Without respite:
When, passing through
Heavens doors...
To search you out
Across the sands of
Timeless shores.
Thus, finally, after
Stumbling
Across starry Aeons
Of an almost infinite age,
Throughout these
Many anguished trials
Of forlorn,
And seemingly,
Endlessly
Despairing days,
To overwhelmingly
Rediscover your
Presence:
Beholding your perfect
Form -
Suddenly and inextricably
Revealed
Before my wonder-struck
Gaze!
After enduring what feels
Like the damnation and
Curse of eternities
Countless years,
Now, heretofore:
How I shall cherish
And much adore...
This one true heart
Forever more.
When Night Brings Its Stillness, Silence And Tick, Tick, Tick
Collaboration with Robert Lindley
8th March 2019
Town was quiet, its heart barely beating
midnight hour came and went so fast
moon and stars blinked through open window
silence echoed in the town's invisible pulse
Strange how life gives night its powers
its more peaceful and murmuring tones
we that too oft wake to its untimely sounds
feel crushing aches in our despairing souls
Clock watching becomes our pride-less new sport
with tick, tick, tick, its rallying calls
and when that strain promises to explode
we pray dawn's falling rays wakes world's all.
We thought not to wake too soon
yet feared we may not wake at all
and tick, tick, tick, rhythm hypnotised us,
we watched no clock, but listened a while,
until it lulled our weary eyes to sleep;
we woke uninvited, but unknowingly compelled,
tones unheard would not have been peaceful
and nights powers made us beg for our lives;
the town purred with morbid contentment,
moon and stars stroked its back,
between midnight and dawn we writhed,
the quiet town passively cursed us.
Winter's frozen tears
Scattered on despairing ground
Sparkling diamonds!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 January 2017
The strain of separation leaves a sore,
sorrow abides and festers in the heart;
two star-cross'd lovers smitten to the core,
despairing of the days they'll spend apart.
Spirit, soul and testament they share,
blind to worldly consequences, broken
by the distance in between, for where'er
their footsteps fall each retains a token.
Two rings confirm a union true and bold;
connubial bliss that will not e'er be still'd
though time and tide would try to break the mold,
a fire undying, passion unfulfilled.
The day will shortly dawn to soothe the strain,
and end their bleak despondency and pain.
When Night Brings Its Stillness, Silence And Tick, Tick, Tick
Town was quiet, its heart barely beating
midnight hour came and went so fast
moon and stars blinked through open window
silence echoed in the town's invisible pulse
Strange how life gives night its powers
its more peaceful and murmuring tones
we that too oft wake to its untimely sounds
feel crushing aches in our despairing souls
Clock watching becomes our pride-less new sport
with tick, tick, tick, its rallying calls
and when that strain promises to explode
we pray dawn's falling rays wakes world's all.
We thought not to wake too soon
yet feared we may not wake at all
and tick, tick, tick, rhythm hypnotised us,
we watched no clock, but listened a while,
until it lulled our weary eyes to sleep;
we woke uninvited, but unknowingly compelled,
tones unheard would not have been peaceful
and nights powers made us beg for our lives;
the town purred with morbid contentment,
moon and stars stroked its back,
between midnight and dawn we writhed,
the quiet town passively cursed us.
A Robert J. Lindley and Lawrence Sharp collaboration
3-08-2019
Note: Yet again you honor me by agreeing to compose poetry with this old and far too oft very tired poet. I knew your verses would be golden and continue this piece wonderfully to its conclusion. Thanks for gifting such magnificent verse to this our newest creation..
Sunny storms drench away the sorrow I feel inside
Rainstorms and thunderstorms make life a rowdy ride
The clouds above are dancing merrily and I look up and stare
Raindrops and sunshine fill my days and nights as I prepare…
To run...run...run in the sun, shining anew…
To walk...walk...walk on the mesmerizing moon…
To slide...slide...slide on clouds of baby blue
To collide...collide...collide into the beauty of the afternoon
Scarlet sunsets swim in my eyesight
I am seeking empathy from the sunlight
Regret no longer clings on to me…
God gave me His amazing mercy
Acceptance is the beginning of flight
For a fantastic future that's so bright
Bite the bullet as you soar oh so triumphantly like an eagle in the sweet, splendid air
Endure the despairing hardships and there's plenty of joyousness to simply share
Believe in me as I get stronger by the minute
Relieve me from grief and give me a mind of wit
I need to admit to myself that I am never alone
I need to look up to You when I feel on my own
Dreaming won't help me to achieve my goals in life
Unless I take quick action to untie peace from strife
I realize that gloryless guilt and shameful sin has weighed me down
I recognize your voice out of a million in this tension-packed town
As I skip to and fro into the river of roving radiance
As I leap from pod and pod like a frog of brilliance
As I jump from one tree to another like a monkey of gladness
As I grab a hold of the rope of hope gleefully with no distress
Aren't many or any finer than Dan me ol mucker & china who now looks out for nightmare cooks or crooks making money off the books with rare meat on dirty hooks in filthy nooks but don't care want to give him a shiner for saying don't be hasty or cheat prepare pukka tasty tucker & succour...safe fayre to eat for every diner...
Owners booming hysteria at inspector criteria
Kitchens so unclean like a war scene in Liberia
Zooming in you find they're grooming Listeria
Rightly fuming that it is blooming like wisteria
Hardly stellar told fella to have old mortadella
Rank covered in dank mould stank in the cellar
Dan who's a fan of Paul Weller is a fortune teller
Scores on doors stop more spores of Salmonella
Suss some are no faff or fuss a them & us schism
Despairing whiners cuss not caring about criticism
Cleanliness next to Godliness just an anachronism
Foolish witticism as diners get ghoulish botulism
Out of date food they buy deny do things on the fly
Just comply no treason and here’s the reason why
If duff stuff you season on the sly to try and get by
The Council’s the fall guy as folks do die from Ecoli
Hunch lunch or brunch scare dodgy ware of tupper
Owners get shirty but it’s so dirty can’t serve supper
Ask my man Dan this is not a masterplan to scupper
A public sector inspector would rather have a cuppa
Moans echo across the lands
from the souls who are lost
drifting, searching, seeking
forever doomed to exile.
Some brought down in their prime
foully murdered by sharpened steel
plunged into them with hatred.
Or maybe by plain greed.
Soldiers killed in needless wars
all for the rape of the innocent.
Governments hungry for more
oil, gold and other things.
Yes too, the souls of creatures
many now extinct voice their
sorrow with despairing moans.
That echo into our minds and hearts.
Mingling together they strike fear
that judders in our very being.
As we huddle in our beds shivering
knowing it is us who caused this damage
I have become like him; nocturnal.
Prematurely anaesthetised by exhaustion
then jerked awake into the darkness.
How long since I have slept 'til dawn?
A stifled yawn veiling scurrying thoughts.
Tennis match of emotions; back and forth;
volleying, lobbing this way and that.
The game, set and match of insomnia.
Then rallying forth as dawn brings clarity.
Despairing disparity sleeping finally.
The silence of the night amplifies my heartbeat.
Each breath echoes in the unsettled gloom.
As the dawn casts its ghostly light around the room
sleepless wakefulness wanes with the retiring moon,
and the owl rests, fatigued by his 'whooing'.
Unlike me he can sleep by day, the night is his time,
not mine; I am the intruder in the darkness;
a restless insomniac with an overactive brain.
Sleep well majestic wise one. No doubt,
when night falls, I will share your company again.
*** Awaiting Inspiration ***
(written for my brother and sister poets)
Reaching for dreams in the black of my closed eyes, but sleepless,
I go on in music, out past radiant lights —
Bright and brighter — spreading beams that hold back off every
Fright plotted by the cornered, infernal shadows threatening
To overwhelm as they amass over meadows bordering
The forested wilds’ protection of those — hidden therein.
Those, who, in their God-graced innocence, their divinely destined lives,
From infant cries to elder wise; and who will survive
Keeping in the depth of their beings a spirit of truth with
A visible valiance — seen upon a look deep into their eyes;
While —- in this place — in this secrecy thick with trees — I alone
Am ready with pen in hand...to be their mirror…
For I am a documentarian of the hopes held
In humanity’s array of feeling hearts:
Whose stories I note
In the bounce of continuous city din; in tales recounted by farm folk
Walking between their grain-growing rows; and told in chanted
Prayers rising for the ill, the poor, the despairing…needed and answered.
Thus, holding visions and voices, I persistently proceed with my work,
First, with a necessary pulling at these pliant walls
Of the creative cocoon — its soft, loose weave deceptively
Can seem easily penetrable. Possibly God will respond to these
Cries for his collaboration. Meanwhile, alone, awaiting inspiration, I stay
With crayons in hand, watching the approach of a very rare snowfall in May.
*****. ******. ******. *******. ******. *****
Inspired by Milton & Dante, may be Part i of a longer work.
Thanks be to God…
Also for Charlie and Jim with thanks.
11/21-28 (c)S. Young Eslinger
I'm polynonsensicalamorous;
For me,
Romance is calamitous,
I woo and charm,
And raise some alarm,
When I try to arouse,
... By flexing my arm!
Some days its almost ridiculous,
Whatever I do,
It's frivolous!
So I dress to impress,
But I'm always despairing,
When I walk through the door,
I hear: "What are you wearing?"
They told me love was fabulous,
If you want the truth:
It's strenuous!
When I try to hit,
I always miss,
That hug I got,
...Should've been a kiss!
But if all is fair in love and war,
I should keep trying until I score,
And maybe one day I will cease to fuss,
If only I wasn't...
Polynonsensicalamorous.