Best Disapproving Poems
The Master left to go away,
But, being wise and just,
He first called forth three servants and
Placed Talents in their trust.
According to their proven skills
He portioned out their share:
Five to the first, the second two
One to the last man there.
And once the Master went away
The man he gave the five
Invested what he had been lent
And made his Talents thrive.
The man who had been given two
Worked hard to earn yet more,
But he who had been given one
Hid his beneath the floor.
After a time the Master came
Returning from his task
And bid his servants come to Him
With but one thing to ask.
"With what I had entrusted you
Now give me your account."
The man to whom was given five
Had doubled his amount.
In turn, the man He'd given two
Had turned them into four.
The Master said, "Well done my sons,
Now I will give you more."
The last whose Talent had been hid
Rushed forth to plead his case.
"I have protected what you gave
Within a secret place."
The Master, disapproving, looked
Upon his share returned.
"What good can hidden Talents do?
They yield no profit earned."
That Talent then He gave to he
Whose faithfulness was proved,
And from the man who had but one
His little was removed.
The moral of this story then
If you have ears to hear
Is we are given portions of
Which we are overseer.
Don't let your talents waste unknown
Whether they're small or great.
Whatever talents you possess
Should even more create.
9.16.18
Contest: Parable of the Talents
Twenty-twenty on his deathbed lies.
Most saw him with disapproving eyes.
Some prospered as they watched him grow.
But many looked at him
as a son of woe. Though
no wars did he bring -
his praises we
shall surely
never
sing.
In
our minds
has grown an
embryo – our
hopes now pinned on him.
This unborn child – will his
youth be sweet or grim? Will we
be proud to watch him grow? One can
never know! Oh, Twenty-twenty-one,
in your brother’s footsteps please don't follow.
Dec. 30, 2021
Above all else
A daughter
wants to be seen……by her mother
There are small big things
That are said
That are done
Those disapproving glances
Tiny big criticisms
The imperceptible monumental moments
The shame that accompanies disappointment
The knowing she can’t meet expectations
Still she desperately tries
All the while
a part of her rebels
needing to find herself
She needs to see herself
even when she feels unseen
Above all else
A mother
wants the best…..for her daughter
She sacrifices
EVERYTHING
Including herself
Sometimes even the relationship
Dreams are powerful destructive things
They are forces of nature
not easily wielded
Pushing pulling
Forks in the road
Doors to open
Potential to achieve
Pitfalls to avoid
Mothers want the best
They stand as guardians
of both the past and the future
Those things they have lost
Those things they hope for
They sometimes miss the present
They cannot see the paper cut wounds they inflict
Mothers
Daughters
Above all
they know each other
In the end they have a way of seeing
Children of children
Hope from hope
Do overs
Softened voices
Glimpses
Stories told around dinner tables
Laughter
Tears
Anger and joy
The act of seeing and being seen,
it takes several lifetimes being joined together.
Brave is the rose caught in November’s thorn
While she endures nights of chill and snow,
Awaiting gold daylight's warmth to bestow---
And liven her frame…her mouth drooped, forlorn.
Gently, new moon peeps into kohl of eve
While its luster reflects on this bud , soft
Like a pubescent ovule held aloft
By elms guarding her round shape NOT to cleave.
Though one kind-hearted owl perches nearby
Mutely disapproving this ghastly tread…
An obscure fog sprays crystals overhead
Instead, wings lock against nip of the sky.
How unwavering…in her innocence
Morning rises, its lucent gleam so young
That frozen dusk pales with wheezes unsung…
Oh, grit of a rose saved by providence!
Written 9/10/2018
Contest of Broken Dream
Enclosed Rhyme - September, 2018
Thoughts melt and distil under a green/blue flame,
Swirling down, separated out and mixed.
If you’ve seen it, it’s broken;
If you’ve heard it, it’s shredded;
If you’ve read it, it’s rewritten.
It's really quite unlikely to be fixed.
You’re cutting up holiday snaps
and pasting them onto card.
And you’re scrambling madly
to hide the mess on the floor
As your mum yells for cleanliness
From behind your bedroom door.
3001 puzzle pieces and you’re jamming them together,
No wonder your imagination is at the end of its tether.
You’ve got two pieces that are sun-kissed clouds
“What comes… what comes next?”
You’ve got two roots in the soil
“What comes… what comes next?”
Your mother is sitting in the hall
With a scarf tied round her neck,
Her back pressed up against the wall
As she deals the jigsaw deck.
3001 pieces in her hands,
Mixed with childhood drawings
And grains of sand.
She lays out seven in a line,
Which you place between the two and two.
“Oh, but that and that won’t rhyme!”
“Don’t you think that this one will just do?”
And your father’s disapproving in the kitchen,
“You don’t need no occult nonsense,
Or a system to order out your brain”
He just stands there “focussed”
Over a pot on a blue/green flame,
Subconsciously mumbling while stooped,
“Look here Son, look, I’m making poa-tery soup.”
But you would never tell him that,
Just like you’ll never be finished, ever.
No-one ever is
Even if they know they’re doing it or not.
My grandfather died last week,
The sourest stuck-in-a-rut-of-a-man
That you’re ever going to meet.
The diagnosing doctors were in for a treat.
They said that there was something wrong there,
Something wrong with his brain,
That there was something strange there
Fundamentally, main.
They said that he died - after scans - in a cubicle stall,
When his brain haemorrhaged and cracked open,
And jigsaw pieces piled up against the wall.
These are the times when the walls talk
The bricks sneer and the tile floor scoffs at you
Disapproving, mocking, judging
It’s a quiet conversation
You can’t quite grasp the words
Muttered to your ears only
Yes, the others are excluded
From this one-sided discussion
So they don’t understand
When you can’t hear them
And when you stare blankly at the wall
Because they aren’t aware
That those walls are tormenting you
Turn the corners around your lips
reverse your wrinkled brow
amuse your sullen disposition
and disapproving frown
Etch the lines that touch your eyes
the map which tell your story
of laughter worn the crown of age
displayed near age of forty
Laugh at all the unexpected
moments that surprise
uncommon yes and comical
till breath be gone and tears can cry
Laugh at every fortune un'd
when it rains and makeup runs
for every fall or drink that spills
slap a knee and laugh until
You find no shame in things gone wrong
find the funny in all you can
learn how to sing life's laughter song
for life is wasted in the sad
The start of every laughters ride
begins when your lips make a smile
not the smile of portraits pose
but the smile from fond memory rose
A smile that comes from real joy
when your eyes glisten with feeling
when joy you can't believe is real
becomes all your souls been needing
Smile deep a grin that's wide
none else so desired in life
to be by the side of one with a smile
it can make the downhearted feel alive
Be the change in your world today
the one that gives some laughter away
be the sunny and say something funny
a little joy is better than money
It takes seventeen muscles to smile and forty-three to frown
so go ahead and turn some grumps world around
Smile, laugh, the storms of life will never last
Bring joy to life before the living is passed
With a deep Growl!
a Corgi's disapproving eye,
a question mark tail arched in suspicion,
and four white capped feet poised
to leap off the porch into a dead run,
my old dog thinks he has still got it.
Bark! Bark! Bark!
You have been warned by "Outlaw"
not to come too close to the fence.
Despite his advanced years
the little guardian staring at you
will bare his old teeth at you.
Cool it "Outlaw"! Come here!
Come over by me little buddy
and sit your loyal soul down.
We may think we still got it
and we might just have it once,
but today let's just sit here a spell
and try to accept the fact that we are
just two old dogs sitting on the porch.
I see her coming home at dawn,
Looking completely withdrawn,
It makes me sick to my stomach to know you’ve sent her out working,
Watching her come home, I see you lurking.
She’s my age so I imagine if it was me,
How an earth can you sit there happily.
I watch her smile and she seems so innocent,
She doesn’t deserve this false imprisonment.
You own her, she’s trapped no where to turn,
You don’t care the money’s your only concern.
You walk around in your expensive clothes,
Sending her into dirty people’s homes.
She’s just a child and you make her spend time with you too,
God my only wish was that the authorities knew.
I wish I could do something to help save her life,
She’s in so much danger being held captive as your ‘wife’.
?I’ve got no proof no evidence to show,
So you smile because off to work she can go.
I can’t imagine the torture she’s been through,
And I know your other ‘daughter’ has been through it too.
?I want to be able to prevent this,
Have a job where I’m able to put you on a watch list,
Send you down for the disgusting man you are,
Let those women free back into their loving mothers arms. ?
I wonder what their family think they are doing,
Do they have an idea what their daughter is forced into pursuing?
Maybe some sick parents forced it too,
I’ve heard it’s common here to sell your little girl for $300 dollars this is a fact I wish everyone knew!
?I wish everyone would stop being so naive,
The truth is hard to hear so it’s better to not believe,
It’s not these are other people too,
Do you really think they deserve to walk in these shoes!
?I wish there were more people to stop and put up a fight,
Fight for these women they do have equal rights!
Man stand up to man, this shouldn’t be a common practice,
I don’t understand how you all can just watch and accept this! ?
I’ve seen the mans friends give him disapproving glares,
Don’t they try and act like they were unaware,
Why don’t they stand up and show the girls someone cares,
Let’s get these girls protected from their nightmares.
The children deserve to have a childhood,
Instead it’s been robbed and filled with no good!
Their lives they haven’t managed to live yet,
Don’t you think they’ve had enough upset!
A solitary man was he
who shunned responsibility
and crawled back to his empty shell,
he thought himself alive and well.
He spurned an opportunity
for love in perpetuity,
instead his nervousness took hold,
he lost the yearning to be bold.
As weeks went by he grew, imbued
with loneliness and solitude,
but not with laughter or the joy
he well remembered as a boy.
He grew morose, and disinclined
to mix with others of his kind,
he shut himself away with books,
avoiding disapproving looks.
Perhaps one day he'll realize
commitment is a larger prize,
that the way to win a heart
is not to run, to be apart.
He hopes that day is dawning soon,
but, perhaps, it's like the blue moon
waiting for its time to rise
so infrequently before his eyes.
Mother dear, I recall the many worry lines upon thy dear face.
Oh, that if time I could reverse and them from thy face erase!
Forgive me Mother dear if I caused you any undue despair.
Forgive me Mother dear if I etched my share of them there!
You struggled to see your family through the Great Depression.
To see to the needs of your family was thy sole obsession.
You saw us through sickness and health - to that I can avow.
I know that this alone carved worry lines upon thy brow.
In my feckless youthfulness, too many times I let you down.
I saw disappointment on thy face and thy disapproving frown.
If only I had the power to turn back the clock and erase,
Those worry lines that I caused to crease thy noble face.
I rue the many times that I gave you unnecessary sass.
Those hurtful words from my mouth were so terribly crass.
It gives me peace to know God erased those worry lines from your brow,
When He welcomed you Home where you rest at peace with Him now!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Paula Swanson's "Line" Contest - September 2010
I felt my heart fall from my chest
Like a shooting star coming down to meet it’s untimely death
I wondered where it had gone
Where that star may have went
Since nothing else was shining in the night
I looked toward the moon instead
A grimace cratered her face
She wavered gently in my misty eyes resembling a disapproving shake
The heavens were against us
It is what it is, fate
I knew what I had to do
But this was never me falling out of love with you
I just can’t expect the stars to align the same twice
This wasn’t an excuse to walk away
I’d follow you like a planet in orbit
If the universe let me have my way
Those feelings we had for each other are somewhere out in space
not here on Earth where they should be
But so the moon stays,
Magnetically pulling me in the direction I should take
So stay wild, moon child
Don’t forget to smile
And don’t ever let that fire of yours tire
I wish I could mark this all up as simply a mistake
But you and I both know for that it’s way too late
Indo-Fijian Girls CAN Run
I Remember...
Clearly as my memories of Fiji’s blue tropical skies
Desiring to raise my hand for the school’s track events until I heard the lies
Frail, short Indian girl was the brand I was tagged with
But deep down the desire to run I could never ditch
I Ran…
In the fields and I ran on the road
Believing that I was the fastest girl in the globe
Low suggestive whistles, catcalls and disapproving glares - my only reward
Frail, short Indian girl- my presumed physicality; this shackle daunting me from moving forward.
Race -
Did it start the big debate, in 2008?
He’s not my president
Show me his papers.
Why don’t we impeach him
Silence all the haters.
Take back our country
Those thieves took it.
Yes we can!
Tea Partiers have a plan.
Fox News or Msnbc
Which one defines me?
If I tell you my truth
Will you corner me in a booth?
Take off that turban.
What are you hiding in that Suburban?
Blow yourself up and go to heaven
72 virgins, or is it 77?
Go back to where you came from and leave us be
To be free,
Where I can be me,
Live my dreams,
Not fear you’ll punish me.
But who said this is your home
Where were your grandparents born?
Did they arrive on Ellis Island
Travel from the Highlands?
Maybe they worked the plantations
Or lived on reservations?
40 acres and a mule
Un-kept promises, your rule.
That email you sent was funny.
But should I be offended
Tell you not to re-send it?
The use of the “N” word
Thank goodness no one heard.
But why is it okay when he says it
No one labels him a racist.
Good cop bad cop
On your knees!
Please don’t shoot, officer -
They’ll say you profiled me.
A nation divided
Our opinions two sided.
Everything about race,
Case by case,
Judging me by my face.
Will there ever come a time
When we can both stand in line?
Neither the two disapproving
Wouldn’t that be moving?
G..long, G..long, G..long,
It was so intriguing
The G..long sound
Trumpeting elephant?
No elephant here said..
Greville the greedy goat,
Sim the swaying giraffe
even Lind the chaffinch.
In deprecating way
Vee then laughed mockingly
Well, he couldn't help it
Being a hyena!
Exasperated Saul
determinedly stamped off
to ask Arc, the owl
He found him fast asleep
G..long, G..long, G..long
said Saul in Arc's right ear
Fluttering his feathers
Arc woke suddenly
Then eyeball to eyeball
Saul asked Arc politely.
"What makes a G..long sound?"
Silence was prevailing
until they both jumped at..
hearing the "sound!"
G..long, G..long, G..long!
Saul ran and Arc flew down
Here was the distinct sound,
which was getting nearer,
Saul's capuchin monkey
Kareen came into view.
Arc peered downwards
WHAT WAS ON..... Kareen's feet?
OVERSIZED GALOSHES!!!
G..long, G..long, G..long!
Was heard the flapping sound
As Kareen, head held high,
nonchalantly strolled by
Saul and Arc exchanged looks
Arc's disapproving one
with Saul's embarrassment
glowing red on his cheeks.
Saul beat a quick retreat
As Arc chuckled aloud! ......