Best Desperate Poems
A desperate housewife I knew
had such mundane housework to do.
Being so tired of it,
she decided to quit.
Then off to Las Vegas she flew.
Having always been such a lithe girl,
she thought “I’ll give dancing a whirl!”
Her audition went well.
From a large oyster shell
She emerged, so they all dubbed her Pearl.
Her skin, soft and fair, shone like dew
as she smiled with eyes crystal blue.
All the men threw her money
as her voice, sweet as honey,
called out, “Let me entertain you!”
As Pearl danced each night, looking pretty,
Her husband, back in her home city,
was fit to be tied,
thinking maybe she’d died!
Poor fool didn’t have a clue, did he!
Unbeknownst to sweet Pearl, her “dear” spouse
had been sneaking off as she’d played house.
To conventions he’d said
he was going. Instead,
he’d been gambling in Vegas, that louse!
Off to strip clubs he’d gone every chance
that he got. How he loved to see dance
naked women all sizes
in sexy disguises
while his wife at home longed for romance.
Now the tables were very much turned.
And her husband was feeling quite spurned.
He would sleep restlessly
thinking where could she be!!
But her whereabouts he never learned.
No longer could he run away
on a whim. He still had bills to pay.
That cleaning and cooking
meant no time for looking
at girls! He had less time to play.
In Vegas, his wife had come far.
In fact, she was a superstar.
Wearing naught but a fan,
she’d entice every man,
then drive home in a pearl-colored car!
Her spouse lost his job. The years fled.
His wife he then had declared dead.
But with no job in sight,
he’d stay home each night,
with loneliness causing him dread.
Do you think this guy ever has let
his conscience feel any regret
that his wife did so much
while he gambled and such?
Has he learned anything at all yet?
Did he marry and get a new bride?
Did Pearl go and change her sweet ride
to a sleek red Corvette,
and did SHE marry yet?
I leave it to YOU to decide!
Written June 2016 for the Desperate Housewife Contest of PD
While gelid breezes of winter, quiver emotions of decaying rays,
And arc of horizon cedes to dusk, evoking grimace of malaise,
Casting shadows tenebrous, shrouding glimmer of a slowing day,
Desperate hope lingers still, in resplendence of autumn’s decay;
Gawking in yonder, where gamboge-orange woodlands fade,
Reminiscing in seasons harkening, realms of love now evade,
Mindful of the broken vows, when grievous calls destiny made,
When forever promises receded, and pledges eternal strayed.
Love now mulls~ if kiss of passion was a subtext of final goodbye?
Was it the last tear of hapless eyes; a bawl of love gone awry?
A silent protest, concealing mindfully, anguish of a forlorn sigh?
Was it the clamor of jilted desires, love enamored chose to decry?
Springs of past summon hope, having risen from wintry throe,
Nights of nightmare cede to dreams in halo of daybreaks aglow,
As candle of love revives hearts, fueled by inspirations of soul,
When whispers of sensuous hints, aspirations of romance cajole.
Desperate hope expounds repentance, vying healing through time,
Unsure if, pleadings in atonement, will redeem future sublime;
Whether love saplings will ever sprout, from ashes of passions bygone,
If dreams forsaken will blossom, in womb of tomorrow’s dawn.
I wish I knew how, had ability to turn
away from you and not look back to see if it
affected you, my turning away, walking off.
I want you to miss this, and I fail to pass off
the distance as a gravely unfortunate turn
of events, see truth within desperation, it
blinds, consumes, and (I hate to, but) I admit it
impossible to justify the breaking off
of any contact to once again inward turn.
I want to reach within, find this, and turn it off.
There is an illusion of dishonesty in darkness,
so we rejoice when spring sings saccharine serenades.
I've always been a soul yearning for summer scents,
but somewhere the seasons got lost in translation.
Not all honest hearts can remain evergreen,
when memories like wraiths of past demons,
echo in eerie vibrations of autumnal whispers.
The dark side of my mind is an oxymoron of fictional truth.
A harmony between her reality and my empathy.
I recall a lost childhood when the ghosts of winter besieged me,
as all the melted snow rotted my roots -
I pondered how do I regrow my frostbitten petals?
To determine the odyssey of my destiny,
I sowed a million seeds hoping you would
devour the nectar of my honeyed blossoms.
I finally found you awake like an insomniac,
in a sleeping wintery world of monsoon wickedness,
like a queen bee tangled in a cobweb of lies,
so I followed your scintillating silhouette
into a dark maze of silent shadows time had forgot.
I felt your pain through every window pane of your soul.
No one can heal all your hidden trauma,
but I can distract you from those unwelcome voices,
gathering all the shards of your cracked mirrors,
placing them into a purifying fountain of understanding.
I was artless within my garden,
until I swam in your artistic aquarium.
Oh my vintage rose,
you can be bronze, ivory or crimson,
I care not for the cover of your covert book,
for you remind me of my faith
in the dilemma of desperate hope.
I know sometimes I make mistakes,
but every time you cry,
I wish you would take my sight,
so you can see the world in a positive light.
If I could gift you an eagle's spirit,
maybe you would fly into my arms,
so when we watch the dreaming stars -
I would show how they shimmer in your eyes.
Vacantly staring into the night sky
She saw big bellied clouds drifting away
Are they fleeing away from the luminous moon?
Or mercilessly driven out
After being robbed off everything?
Once again she looked at her expanding waistline
And felt the pulse of life beating within
It sent a lightning of terror through her
The chapters of her life flipped past her eyes
With several scenes reeling one by one
"You are my sky
The ascending star of my soul in the dawn
And the bough of my homing at night"
Those words that sent goose bumps all over
Now rattle in her skull like worthless coins!
Never had she thought she would be
Thus cruelly betrayed!
How she had once wished the time to stand still
Now she sighs seeing the needle of the clock
Crawling at snail's pace!
She thought the deserts of her life
Had been turned into grass lands
When did the cruel frost fall
To suck up all that was green, she fails to locate!
But she remembers clearly when she had fallen
From the perilous heights of the cliff
Into the precipitous depths of the ravine
It was in excitement, she confided to him
That his seed was growing inside her
Was it with disbelief or bitter annoyance
That he heard those words, not quite sure.
For days, she heard nothing from him
Though worried, she tried to light up hope
One day as a bolt from the blue,
She got a curt message from him
‘We now go our separate ways'
She felt drowned while diving for pearls!
With a mutilated heart, the star crossed girl
Lives on....
Without knowing, time winging away
And the curse of the dead albatross
Hanging heavily in her neck!
But she shall live...............
Clutching desperately to hope.
Live for the poor ‘bastard' growing inside!
Written: December 19, 2023
"His style has the desperate jauntiness of an orchestra fiddling away for dear life on a sinking ship. Edmund Wilson"
____________________________________________
With each fresh day, leaves on trees grew dry.
Stream flow had ceased in the vast waterway.
Enormous boulders collapsed to dust!
Perched on lonesome island of my life fust
I tasted the bitterness of shattered dreams.
Walls stood in my path, hindering laud gleams.
Depart from my delicate and feeble universe!
My nightmares shattered all hope, into a curse.
Departing with daunting sadness and failure.
Wallowing in self-pity, longing for a torn sailor.
I am seriously suffering through my fate!
I was startled when I heard a faint whisper sate.
Optimism is a belief that can lead to success.
Even if roses are cut, spring will still progress.
Shift focus toward kindness, not dwell on pain.
Twiddle to the glorious sky to rise once again.
There are no desperate situations, they say.
Only desperate people endure; they convey.
In the pits of anguish, hope might dwindle.
We mimic inner force to rise without a swindle.
There, within the deepest recesses of our minds.
In a land where shadows hover and dismay binds.
A faint glimmer of light starts to flicker.
We will strive for perseverance and vigor.
Who are these people, you might ask?
Ones who will fit any extent for their task.
They are those who are eager for success.
Steadfast in their quest, they never digress.
They are the skeptics, rebels, and bold.
Who is loath to be tethered by societal mold?
They overstep limits and breach walls.
Unabatedly, their tenacity never stalls.
Ready to accomplish a wide range of things.
They have no fear of spreading their wings.
No snag is too vast, or argue that is too tough.
They are keen on any cost, even if it is rough.
Grace flows, twists, turns, renewing spun gold.
Heaven's enduring doors continue to enfold.
Wistful soul is overtaken by delight scope.
Phoenix emerges from the ashes of lost hope.
'
where, in the shadow of a winter moon
beyond eternal skylines collecting stars,
does affection unfold in the sheets
of a nighttime whispering on the breeze
desperate wishes cast as stones on a pond,
smooth surfaces now laced with ripples,
spherical patterns meandering towards
a slumbering shoreline, drifting inward
a silhouette of love, an angelic form peers,
soft mahogany eyes reflecting yesterdays worries,
offering visions of a tomorrow woven between
today's dreams and desires, waits silently
thoughts echo through the dense forest,
evergreens listen as footsteps forage for a path,
a lone figure in the dark, beneath a braided canopy,
a mosaic of memories luring instincts and needs
winding a way through bramble and thistle,
scars fend off thorns, flesh withers in fear lost
within the mist of past encounters, pained
reminders though welcomed just the same
when in a clearing he pauses amidst swaying reeds,
perusing a distant horizon, witnessing the final ripple
slowly making it's way to the place she stood, now
vacant as a faint sliver of morning appears
falling to his knees
he pleads for the return of the winter moon,
the return of its shadow,
the return of...
Daughter, neglected by maternity
A button missing were her eye should be
Abused and abundant by paternity
Her limb missing were her leg should be
Expected to know the origins of charity
Love omitted from were her heart should be
Against all odds, to reach her maturity
In reality, adopted by a broken society
Of child and woman abusers, inequality
With each step, she becomes a step-
Daughter, despised by her competing step-
Sisters, losing the will to extend herself
Her education ferments high on a shelf
Absent mentors, no substitution
The sun sets on her bright future
A childhood deprived of true joys
Increasing her desire for real toys
Her reasoning capacity, a silent voice
Indecision a symptom of her poor choice
Her soul searches for a father figure
In a boy met under similar circumstance
Her identity lost to home affairs
His real intentions far from hers
A love child raised by other children
In a no child zone, her new comfort zone
Her Barbie thinned, cries for a meal a day
Granted, no chance to grow and play
12-13-2014
All day long the little bird cries
Over and over again he tries
Full array for all the ladies passing by
Can't they see he's found a home
Where little babies can be grown
But he cannot do it alone
He's desperate for a date
He really needs a mate
In month of May it's not too late
On the little red house there sits a perch
Where on and off he chirps and chirps
But all the ladies only flirt
So alas this tale has but a sad end
As the little house sits with no one to attend
For it seems his services he could not lend
I see you,
do you see me?
I hear you,
do you hear me?
I try very hard
to understand,
the confusing touch
of your human hand!
I don’t want to resist,
but sometimes that’s how I feel,
your energy, your presence,
it’s not always the best deal.
There are other days;
it all feels so very pleasant,
in the now, in the moment
and in the present!
Please may I ask,
since it was you that chose me,
to give me more time for stuff,
it works wait and see.
I love to learn new things,
but show me slow and right,
I do not speak your language,
I may fright or flight.
If you can promise this,
other things I can forget,
don’t be hard on me or yourself,
no need to get upset.
We are two different species,
I want to learn and love man,
can you really return the loyalty,
I’m pretty sure you can.
I hear you,
I hope now you hear me!
I see you,
I hope now you see me!
Rain-Desperate Times
Days and weeks of rain
has come down hard and fast
desperate times prevail
Desperate, broken, needing love
Descending low through the air
Your Holy Spirit like a dove
Came to me in my despair
Confused, tattered, bitterly torn
Needing a full release
By your grace I am reborn
Now I know your loving peace
Day by day I’m seeking you
In your Word you are found
It tells me that I’m brand new
Your mercy and love richly abound
I am filled with joy and I sing
Blessing you with all my heart
Worshiping and praising my God & King
Honor and glory to You I impart
Thank you, Lord, for calling me
Out of the muck and mire
You opened my heart and eyes to see
It is truly You that I desire
John Stasukevich
3/20/2023
Whoever finds themselves alone,
To make their bed a slab of stone,
Goes there but for the grace of I
To contemplate the reason why.
Who knows the journey each have led?
The horrors which they may have fled.
Financial ruin is one such fate,
Or just hard luck, the loss is great!
And so, a life where pride is lost
To forage bins at any cost.
Where passersby will turn their heads
To go home to their comfy beds.
A placard scratched out more in hope
Disguises that they fail to cope
And thus, the empty cups reveal
The hopelessness they can’t conceal.
The cold and bitter winters night,
The cardboard box for which they’ll fight,
May stave off hypothermia
But do little for insomnia!
It’s miserable to say the least,
The fact that they will never feast
Or just to shower, enjoy a cuddle,
Instead a lowly fire they huddle.
Have we now become so cruel?
Whereby society will often drool
On celebrities who matter not,
Whilst these poor souls are thus forgot!
This journey fraught of desperate dreams
Within the grip of swelling grays
The Southern Cross astern now shines
Ever close of darkened bays
Adrift of lost and endless times
Sails now hoist, direction’s wind
I hear the angry waves a’ crash
Spume does touch my worried skin
Tempest waters come to lash
This journey fraught of desperate dreams
To reach the one that I adore
Of echoed voices calling me
And compass points of distant shore
Fear shall not my face to run
To fight this wrathful storm I will
Hoping for the morning sun
With calmer seas so ever still
When dawn, I pray on bleeding knees
Does find your arms about my chest
With kisses sweet of anchored pleas
To whisper I have met my quest
And found my love for once and all
By harbor light and North Star way
Your heart, my destined my port-o-call
Never more to sail away
The world is not my maker.
The logic it decrees.
When I can’t see the burning forest
For the flaming trees.
I long to fix its problems,
In this my desperate plea:
The rich don’t care for those who live
In crushing poverty.
I long to lose this baggage,
That hangs beneath my eyes.
It threatens to corrupt my faith
Through those whom I despise.
The world is not my oyster,
If only this I knew.
I’m just some guy who writes his poems;
There’s nothing I can do.