Best Despairingly Poems
Broken hearts
begged light to brighten broken hearts,
the frozen and forlorn
beckoned despairingly for warmth, solace,
and begging was answered, at last.
Unforgiving and radiant
he always came back
from behind mournful cover
at some place and time, unexpected,
to caress the land, or devour it.
Scorched and fevered
seekers lined the sands,
the sands baked, not yet complacent,
his sacred face
would not be directly seen.
20th July 2018
Categories:
despairingly, allegory,
Form:
Free verse
All she wanted was love, but he
forgot the dreamy days of yore.
Gone were those sweet caresses,
Gone were the walks hand in hand,
Gone was any passionate lovemaking.
All sentiment evaporated into bank accounts,
and soon he found others interested
in spending his hard-earned money.
She stayed at home, sad, lonely and crying.
She dared not find solace anywhere.
Until one day he returned...drunk.
He took his pleasure in using force
and killed her fragile body and soul.
She walked towards the beckoning sea,
and walked and walked blindly,
though she could not swim.
Behind her, she left a short note:
No one cries beneath the brine,
which cannot wash away your filthy attempt.
The seed of love was now
definitely despairingly dead.
NB This is part truth, part fiction. And has got nothing to do with my life. I was a mere spectator of life. I was in a way sad that the man ruined such a love because of money. Such a brutal man never learns it seems.
Categories:
despairingly, abuse, lost love, suicide,
Form:
Free verse
"melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams " (by poet)
a gift from my father - on the first day of college,
"Golden Treasury"...A book of poetry...
the first poem I read... "She Walks In Beauty".
I carried that book throughout my life, even when I stopped reading poems...
even when poetry wasn't the priority any more,
Instead I looked at recipe-books - how to improve my culinary skills,
and became almost a champion chef in a few months.
Wordsworth and Browning were far away from my thoughts,
Coleridge? Oh No! Porphyria's Lover, and Ancient Mariner...
did not exist in my world of reality!
how many glorious summers went by ~ how many frosty winters ~
Delicious food, excellent company,
chasing after active children, stressing about job-opportunities,
exotic travels, grandiose entertainment ...
had time for every little trivial thing in the world...but no time for
the book my father imagined his daughter would embrace the most!
then one miraculous day...when even my father gradually forgot
the girl who used to blossom in the world of words, and poetry....
I found my precious friend collecting dust,
neglected, discarded, in the corner of a shelf.. couldn't believe it was waiting for me with a beating heart ~
each and every page came alive with a magical touch ~
still my name clearly visible, handwritten with my father's calligraphic dexterity !
almost shaking to spot my long-lost treasure, I cried!
overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell!
as if a candle burnt and melted.
every drop of tears brought back the lavender memories ~
of an exhilarating past... my passions, my yearnings,
tender dreams of lilac hues never attained, the abandoned path I was supposed to tread ...
a path strewn with lyrics and verses, ballads and
sonnets like blazing auburn leaves of autumn ~
now shockingly empty and despairingly barren.
the forgotten aspirations and never-met goals...the tremendous sense of loss,
of crushing heart-break, of torturous frustration,
all flooded in!
many lonely years have gone by!
melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams
ultimately my first love has returned !
First Place
May 15, 2021
Inspired by “ He gave her a book” contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
despairingly, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
I have danced while music played,
and smiled, although despairingly,
through tears at smiles not meant for me.
Both soft eyes, though brown and drab,
have strived to glitter, with scant success,
as others shone bright, reflecting light
beneath their lashes, lush and long.
While I lurched in crazy drunken spirals,
others, precise, performed their pirouettes
and flowed across the polished floor
and smiled and laughed and more:
completely at their ease.
What terminal disease decrees
despair my partner in this dance?
Is there no chance to sit the music out,
a listener, discrete, devout?
While others whirl and dip, I slide and slip.
Must I be a half-a-pair with stumbling feet,
inept novice, graceless lout who, led about,
never has an easy air dancing with despair?
Categories:
despairingly, angst, dance, depression, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Gazing into a clear lake pool . . .
I saw a reflection of my life before me.
The gaze and what I saw depicted . . .
A progression of past life experiences.
I savored the funny and kind moments . . .
Looked despairingly on the difficult moments.
This gaze into the mirror of my soul . . .
Astounds and confounds me still today.
And the knowledge that we are all . . .
Much more than the sum of our parts,
Means so much more to me today.
What I’ve learned are six things . . .
Ignorance begets Stupidity,
Knowledge begets Wisdom,
Inspiration begets Creativity,
Light begets Illumination,
Passion begets Vivacity,
Love begets Happiness (but not all the time).
To know yourself . . .
You must see and sense yourself
In the mirror of your own soul.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(September 28, 2014) (Free Verse poetic format)
Categories:
despairingly, allegory, change, conflict, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Darkest night and longest hours:
Hours to labor and
Hours to trip in the primitive ooze of repetition
Hours to catch up or trade for spare minutes,
Hours with eyes only half aware
Of life and its warnings,
Lifeless and blissless hours of emptiness,
Hours that never end,
Hours of yawning and stale coffee,
Hours measured in radio songs and cigarettes.
Darkest light before the day,
With shades of grey and
Unidentifiable lumps of black.
Humped, dark masses of human
Trudge through the hours
With brooms and coffee and sleeplessness
And floor buffing machines
Humming angelic tunes like flagellant dirges.
Shapeless figures with no place to go
For hours, no home to fine
For hours, no peace of mind
For listless hours.
Moonless hours for the streetlamps
And for the peddlers of lawlessness.
They count their hours in dimes
And nickles and quarters,
But never pennies or half dollars,
And never by retracing foot steps,
If they can help it.
Hours for the fools that sleep.
Hours for the watchman on his beat.
Hours for the black blood
Puddled and undiscovered on the blackest streets.
Still to come is the hour of discovery.
Hours spent despairingly counting
The slow progression of passing hours.
A second hand that drips like cold molasses.
A minute hand that tortures
A set of wide and soulless eyes.
An hour hand that doesn't move at all.
Rituals and rites mark the odorous plumes of hours unseen.
An echoing scream amplifies the darkness.
The howl of sirens follow in the distance.
Hours of violence or depravity or sin or pleasure.
These are the hours set aside
For the ageless telling of tales
And the insomnia of music makers.
All the misery of graveyard hours
If for no other reason
Than the gravity of their six foot title.
Categories:
despairingly, fear, mystery, on work
Form:
Free verse
THE CRYSTAL PALACE
The gods awoke, as they occasionally do,
and found Fred Cross in multitudes, alone.
Unconsciously aware of their unblamed fault,
they dreamed for him an appropriate abode,
a crystal palace flawed through and through
with veins of earthy, dark hued stone.
Sequestered by battlements of coldfiery ice,
concealed, it towered over existence below.
Fred Cross, through mirrored portals viewed
the warm chill of life from his lofty abode,
and despairingly content he quite often died
exploring the chambers of his intricate home.
By midnight's blaze through vacant corridors
he paced, stumbling on cobwebbed unrealities,
and contemplated empty passages scrawled
in volumes shelved in wormwood libraries.
To bed he went at darkened dawn, tired by lore
read studiously of man's strong willed frailties.
On sunset mornings he slipped boldly outside
to sense the roses he could not smell, to bare
his soul to one who cared. But alas, he could
not find a single one of all those there
that knew him well enough to share. He cried
and fled to his castle gate, hopelessly secure.
The gods returned to their perpetual rest.
Fred Cross lived forever in a palace of death.
Categories:
despairingly, angst, corruption, spiritual,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I said to my son,
He said back to me,
To be honest with us,
I'm worried
We want to be happy
while bypassing disciplines of left-brain healthy
is not too right-brain cooperatively sappy.
But, after my ancient lifetime of trying
directly for prosperous happy
that may or may not lead to left-brain healthy,
that may or may not lead to right-brain wealthy,
I hope you can benefit
from what we redundantly say,
more than what I've actually done
in front of you
and behind your back,
confronted you,
denied,
and what I've failed to take left-with-right back.
We want to be happy
and to win wealthy left-brain ego-fame
however flashingly synaptic
even at the price of ignoring natural/spiritual resilient healthy
is not all that win/win polyanna maniacally sappy
nor lose/lose despairingly immoral crappy
So I have done
and we long to be done
with such lose-happy and lose-wealthy self-prophetic life confusion
profusion
contusion,
Of unhappy cognitive left
and disaffected unwealthy right
dissonance
provokes short-term wounded choices for mere satiation
because long-term resiliently healthy happiness
feels too right-brain prominent sappiness
suffering left-brain crappiness
Both un-together remaining mutually blind
to integrity of global win/win GoldenRule manners,
uncrappy and unsappy,
too remotely not experienced on our shared big mainframe
but maybe flimmery-glimmers of light emerge
in more everyday lighter healthy,
wealthy,
and wise here/now
space/timeless moments.
To be honest with you,
I'm worried
we want to know abundant happiness
without accepting and committing to our win/win integrity
as ego/eco-systemic
left/right cooperatively integral
Red/BlueGreen
yang-fire/yin-water
holistic nonsectarian
non-partisan
non-violently communicating health vulcanizers,
optimizers,
re-creators,
transubstantiators,
creolizers,
With happy inter-hemispheric ego/eco-logicality
speaking dipolar bi-loyally
in cooperatively resilient
health/wealth solidarity
Which I think everyone would regeneratively agree
is not too sappy
nor too degeneratively crappy
to remain responsibly happy
despite all our co-arising snappy facts
without contextual slappy feelings.
Categories:
despairingly, analogy, caregiving, happiness, health,
Form:
Political Verse
Nervously
Walked into the room
Reminds me
How I lost my feeling
The last time I fainted
Delightedly
Receiving my birthday gift
Reminds me
How I’d wished for my presents
Anticipatingly
Sat by the phone, waited for ages
How I’d been frozen in shock
When I learned the news
Despairingly
I now sit on the interview chair
Reminds me
How to talk
I blubber but falter
Categories:
despairingly, feelings,
Form:
Far off bathed in hazy blue light,
Reaching and hugging clouds real tight.
A soft and peaceful landscape scene
How romantic it all would seem.
Sunlight casting patches on your back,
The eye follows a meandering track.
Snowy dust glitter down one side,
As cloud shadows drift and glide.
But when I draw so very near
I see the rock face, repelling sheer.
Jagged teeth grinning down
Ridges form an angry frown.
Avalanche path an ugly scar
A drunken path from afar.
Fluffy clouds now roiling black
The deafening sound of lightnings crack.
Trees bow, groan and creak.
Golden grasses, now very bleak.
I feel the anguish sear my heart.
Natures forces tear dreams apart.
The wind howling for evermore
Be careful what you pray for.
As the mountain and I become as one,
I despairingly cry:"Thy will be done"!
Categories:
despairingly, introspection, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
As I stared despairingly at the transom,
my daughter declared, as she gave a smile winsome:
“I wouldn’t stand for such a name, if I were Janell!
It’d be okay of course, if Janell refers to the vessel…”
Captain disdain abounds in fields chock-full of chauvinism
A female pursuing a career within must be into masochism!
Put on a brave face girl, and grit your teeth shut
The ponytail pretties better go or you ‘are’ the promoted ****
As seriousness cannot be equated with feminineness,
it is best you strut like you’re swinging two pe!!ses…
Now it’s nice to see more of the younger generation,
accept it’s work and education, not gender identification!
(9/16/20 – Searay 400 sedan bridge; DMS)
Categories:
despairingly, anti bullying,
Form:
Couplet
Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,
though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.
Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer
clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare
re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,
though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy
Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona
doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware
lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,
hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention offspring
boldly did declare
indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
Categories:
despairingly, 7th grade, absence, conflict,
Form:
Bio
So these bruises you left still linger here, confused and bitter, hovering fear, trusting sincerity whispered in my ear.
But it’s me that believed truths that were lies, the painted picture of an imaginary life, insinuations of darkness changed to light.
When will I ever know what to believe, when promised integrity is blatantly deceived, and nobility is slowly but surely grieved?
It’s a mystical abstraction in an ordinary world, reality broken but still moving forward, leaving casualties and pain fiercely ignored.
So I look to myself and play the same blame game, iniquitous words like bullets wound my brain, singeing my spirit with an everlasting flame.
While you just move on to the next helpless flower, a blameless soul to disintegrate and devour, with your egotistical counterfeit power.
With wounds still smoldering in this make believe war, protection the only answer to aching scars, living the solution behind life’s perpetual bars.
So my soul will just stay here where it’s safe and sound; ignoring the voices of the serpents that surround, forever in eternity my heart despairingly to be found.
Categories:
despairingly, introspection, integrity,
Form:
Rhyme
We are sullenly mourning
For security from the demoralizing night
I am despairingly probing
For mercy to carry us back to our divine flight
We are all wishing for infinite freedom
We are all seeking for an abundant kingdom
If we are living in pure happiness, why are we so emotional inside and out?
Why are we painstakingly tracking down a getaway away from this mystifying dilemma? What is all this venturing about?
If we are swaying in the rhythm of faultless jolliness, why are we vexing about the departure of our best friend?
It isn’t in our control…so get a grip or we'll fall!
If we build up our friendship, we'll have wounds to mend
So stop your blaming and cursing or we'll be in appall
If we are all leaders, why are we panicking?
We are all leaders…we aren’t senseless pleaders!
So face your phobias and get out of the deserted state!
We are all leaders…we will not give in, vile deceivers!
Saunter out of sight, so we won’t meet our unsettling fate!
You meddled with our cries
So don't point fingers, you insidious devil
And forced us to believe your jaded lies
SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I don't want to consider your excuses, for our truth stands still
If we are living in pure happiness, why are we not meant to be?
If we are living in pure happiness, why are we battered and bent?
If I am living in pure happiness, why am I not free?
Could we ever discard this horrifying dilemma that pounds on us like cement?
We must act like a leader—tough and vigilant
Striving to survive!
We must mimic like a leader—buff and independent
Struggling to stay alive!
Disregard the mourning state;
Drive out the defiant enemies and make them face their damnations
So we can joyfully integrate and negotiate
You’d do me a favor to cease your supplications!
Categories:
despairingly, confusion, death, faith, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Tortured souls echo midst shadowed loneliness
Traveling the arteries of depressions hell
Ever increasing self-torment ripples
Whilst suicidal thought forms emotional swell
Where all but lost screaming companions
Personalise this vortex, this dull pain
Darkness becomes a black sunshine
Tears form, the only rain
Loneliness suspends fragile of state of mind
Whilst choking pleas becoming a little too much
Fingers arthritic claw for gloved hand of hope
Despairingly naked, searching velvet touch
This place knows no horizon
No beginning nor is there an end
Sat within such self-piteous addiction
Tortured reflection becomes tortured friend
The darkness that envelopes this vacuum
Has hope stumble forever groping lost
No penetrating warmth of summer's eve
Nor extremes of winter's frost
Shadows that stalk this mental wasteland
The vulnerable they will always find
Steeping a lost soul within such depression
Forever haunting man’s fragile mind
Categories:
despairingly, depression,
Form:
Rhyme