Best Disparaged Poems
as a child,
I perceived
the wonderment
of Clouds.
and elders
likewise contemplated
the curious celebrity of them
the solemnity of shape-shifting skyships
their charity of rain:
encouraging fruit
greening hills
irrigating joys
keeping
watch
around the earth
in as enviable
a perch
as the risen sun
or mystic moon
that guides tides.
sun runs
apace
moon whisks
its baton away
but Clouds
stay high,
perpetual
imprints
covering Space and Time.
Could
Clouds
be God's eyes?
***
when I was
-abecedarian-
counting from one to three,
I licked my lips
at Clouds
reckoning
I'd catch them
like docile butterflies,
and discern the flavors of miracle floss:
must be rose-white sugar
some barley flour
lamb's fleece and goose feathers
the elders, lofty and wise,
disparaged my foolish games.
I tugged
on the edge of their mountainous faces:
wispy chins
transient strands
billowy beards
closest clouds
I'd seen
Proximal nimbi
and their dust trail
of ginger, onion, and clove
pulled pork, frizzled cod, light ashtray
lingered...
I caught
those crazy hairs
so hard
candy-coated
raindrops
fell!
Categories:
disparaged, appreciation, growing up, hope,
Form:
Light Verse
My shallow waters have failed to hide
the deeper agony pulsating inside.
I could forgive your lies but not forget.
Do you have remorse, do you feel regret?
Feelings were buried in a shallow grave
as we failed to mend the love God gave.
You failed to speak and I failed to listen,
Fingers are pale where golden bands once glistened.
Broken hearts called to each other refusing to bend.
Not so long ago, I called you my best friend.
Now, I'm left to grieve my failed marriage.
The love we shared, your words disparaged.
I could forgive your lies but not forget.
Where is your remorse or display of regret?
I can no longer burden myself with this shame.
Standing tall, I have given my sorrow a name.
I struggled to save our once happy home,
but you chipped it away when you decided to roam.
So goodbye I shout to you and to failure!
Moving forward, your love is no longer my cure.
My life is becoming a new adventure,
and memories of your face are becoming a blur.
Yes, I could have forgiven your lies, tried to forget,
if your heart felt remorse or just a little regret.
* a work of fiction
For Nailed or Failed Contest (Black Eyed Susan)
Categories:
disparaged, husband, lost love, love,
Form:
Couplet
"Zeal is a volcano, the peak of which
the grass of indecisiveness does not grow."
~ words of Khalil Gibran
Musings of this poet often run wild
with a zeal burning like a roaring flame.
The idyllic rhymes must be reconciled
to reveal a poem that bears my name.
With a zeal burning like a roaring flame
there is a fever raging in my heart
to reveal a poem that bears my name.
One that views nature as a work of art.
There is a fever raging in my heart
urging me to script without sleep or rest.
One that views nature as a work of art,
Through fervid passions stirring in my breast.
Urging me to script without sleep or rest,
my muse is overbearing and zealous.
Through fervid passions stirring in my breast,
penned words are vines climbing on a trellis.
My muse is overbearing and zealous
With jewels and gems, my lines are adorned
Penned words are vines climbing on a trellis,
even if they are disparaged and scorned.
With jewels and gems, my lines are adorned.
The idyllic rhymes must be reconciled.
Even if they are disparaged and scorned,
musings of this poet often run wild.
~ A Pantoum Posted ~ December 5, 2021 ~
"Z" Contest sponsored by Constance La France
Categories:
disparaged, feelings, poetess,
Form:
Pantoum
We crawl before we walk
Make sounds before we talk
Put training wheels on our first bike
Warm up a bit before a long hike
Mom reads to you before the teacher do
You practive writing your name at home, too
Do you really learn how to count at school --
I counted to a zillion at four; now that was cool
Yet when it comes to lasting love and marriage
It seems that early preparation is disparaged
And how about some classes on diaper-changing
So baby' needs are met sans irritation and raging
Categories:
disparaged, baby, marriage, proposal,
Form:
Couplet
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
In storehouses: blessings, rain, mannah and snow.
Likewise, one brilliant star from the creation of time,
Proudly displayed, in Paradise, before its eminent solo.
Set in its ordained place, for this moment, in its prime.
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
In the greatness of destiny, noticed by shepherds
And magi, disparaged by self-immortalised pharoah.
The precious power of its rays - no idle words
Can convey. Singular sign of salvation in its marrow.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
Always crowds are pressing in, down below,
But the lone star has plenty of open space.
A beacon of hope, a compass arrow, its glow
Proudly presents a nativity - invitation for grace.
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
11/9/2022
The Only Star For Me
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
disparaged, star,
Form:
Rhyme
A keyboard was on a typewriter or piano
Spankings were approved of, rarely condemned
Clothing was 'gay' --- brightly colored
They rolled up the sidewalks at 10 p.m.
We said 'heck' for 'hell' and 'darn' for 'damn'
Teachers were respected, never disparaged
Left-handed kids were forced to be righties
Death, not divorce, dissolved most marriages
A click usually meant a torn meniscus
Folks shopped in windows and stores
Cash was king; credit, irresponsible
TV dinners, unanimously deplored
Marathons had fewer than 100 entrants
Devices were mechanical, not electronic
Nobody I knew took showers, just baths
'Human' meant 100% being, not bionic
Everything written above is true
I swear that it is, doggone it!
Categories:
disparaged, nostalgia, remember, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
"The body, like the oak, is bent and gnarled,
The shallow-rooted mind is overthrown,
When we are near the evening of the world."
---From, 'Runes for an Old Believer", by Rolfe Humphries
Facebook post: "Respect your elders!"
My mind may not be now
as nimble as once it was,
and although I might see all
with jaundiced sight, not fresh,
not new, my mood is mostly
cool and quite calm.
--- Until, that is,
some brash provocateur
begins to essay an attack,
thinking to erase the marks
my words have made and to
overwrite them with his own.
I care not very much that he
with logic may displace my niche,
nor cleverly might mock me.
But to disparage Age in dotage,
with vile invectives, is doltish,
brutish and dumbfounding.
My sweetest comfort is
to have no doubt that he
(nor others of his ilk) will
never see how ineffectual
must be this mild complaint.
Categories:
disparaged, age, anti bullying, anxiety,
Form:
Free verse
The lifetime of a mayfly is a
single day leading to eternity,
while a single day for a man
may be lost and ever forgotten
Within seven days mayfly
colonies die, while for
months and years a man
lives silencing own breath
Within a single week flowers
in a vase bloom to rot, while
throughout decades a man is
stuck in a rot unskilled
The speed of time is a virtue to
flowers and flies, while the speed
of time kills a fading man with
regrets and disparaged sighs
Categories:
disparaged, absence, anger, conflict, courage,
Form:
Free verse
Although yours truly modest,
the only personal issue
I will lightly boast about
constitutes lingering
self worthlessness bred
if not prior to first grade,
than most definitely incipient,
academic deadlines
loomed large with dread
and exacerbated by procrastination
quickly adopted as linchpin
damned obsessive compulsive
currents (i.e. thoughts) fed
modus operandi, which intricate
schema writ over lifetime invisible
within this talking head
who ironically enough
never uttered a beep
engendered from lack
of confidence, esteem,
somehow worthlessness,
insignificance,
emasculation, et cetera
took root, and didst leap
(axon to neuron)
and said mindset did seep
percolating into every nook,
and cranny comprising
aging shades, transformed
gray matter, sans this
beatle browed bummer, a deep
purple, though easily mistaken
for minuscule Uriah Heap,
or perhaps, ewe might notice,
(albeit while in a sheep
push disposition) similarities
between mine fist
sized thinker, and another creep
pee totally tubular Charles Dickens
character, or maybe
even a commercial
for nano bot sized jeep
grand Cherokee keep
up a moderate clip despite,
and/or because I
oft times feel a light
buzz sensation within me quite
average gummed up noggin
jammed numb skull,
(essentially barren aged
teenage wasteland recently
undergoing gentrification),
(yeah how really) excite
ting, a no brainer fright
fully glommed with peevish
gobbledygook plus worthless,
obsolete, and crammed academic right
hand busily twiddling, scribbling,
and sloppily drafting
error riddled assignments
deliberately failing heavily
marked with bright
colors adding oomph
to mental blight
punctuated by
attaining puny height
(...oh, about seventy inches),
nonetheless, my slight
physique and mute quiet
as a mouse, I might
as well hove been a stand in
for Charlie Brown right
down to the tree eating kite
good grief - never an ending fight
with Lucy, hence now this knight
in rusty armor forever
disparaged his might
and attests to
20/20 hind sight!
Categories:
disparaged, age, conflict, destiny, fate,
Form:
Bio
I cannot say that I’ve grown wise
through all my passing years.
Yet one can surely win apprise
with open eyes and ears.
I see ego garbed as majesty
blurting nonsense called opinion
and hapless pawns of travesty,
misled by such dominion.
Then pride, that common drivel,
pours like rain into my ears.
Heralding the frivol—
playing on my fears.
Wise and precious minds
soar higher than the rest.
Overlooked, disparaged and maligned,
shame they’re oft suppressed.
By wise enthralled and fools appalled,
these two of diverse kind.
How is it then they’ll be recalled?
By what they leave behind.
Categories:
disparaged, wisdom,
Form:
Quatrain
A groundbreaking weather struggle has evolved today
over the length of this Year,s chill
Early Spring said Staten Island Chuck
forecasting through the muck
whilst he was disparaged as a quack
by Puxstawney Phil
Whichever rodents predictions fits you best
it might be time to second-guess
whether Puxstawney Phil and Staten Island Chuck
need to take a new meteorologist test!
Categories:
disparaged, animals, children, funny, nature,
Form:
My son’s name is Dylan, was country raised
in the hills of Wyoming where cattle graze,
helped on the ranch, but never felt fulfilled,
hated his hometown as teens often will.
But he ‘did his time’ until graduation,
went to college clear across the nation,
said by the best companies he’d be employed,
that he’d die rather than be a cowboy.
Now obviously this didn’t please me,
but I waved it off, he was but nineteen,
he immersed into college as young folks do,
bought into all the leftist clap-trap to.
He though protesting would do the trick,
solve everything he found ‘problematic,’
started smoking weed, raved ’bout ‘the man,’
even griped to me that you can’t ‘own land.’
Wouldn’t celebrate Christmas when he came home,
kept spouting slogans that just make you groan,
I sent him to learn, but he just annoyed,
he’d be better off had he stayed a cowboy.
Then he graduated to the real world,
employers cared not for protesting churls,
only got hired by a coffee shop,
where he contracted the damn hipster rot.
Pretentious preening, loved the obscure,
wore the strange clothes to show he was ‘pure,’
disparaged most music, such a killjoy,
he though that was better than a cowboy?
Even that was not his greatest mistake,
Hipster progressed into full-blown snowflake!
If you didn’t conform you deserved hate,
which he wrote up in online click-bait.
Harassed advertisers to silence ‘bad’ views,
your freedom meant nothing, he knew ‘the truth,’
any awful tactic he would deploy,
hard to believe he’d ever been a cowboy.
But minds in their twenties often are blind,
and Dylan’s allies came for him in time,
he said a ‘wrong’ word, took out of context,
before he could speak up his career was wrecked.
With no options left, he traveled back here,
I put him to work riding with the steers,
his sadness was heavy, his pride devoid
at the thought of becoming a cowboy...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Categories:
disparaged, change, growing up, growth,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
The family was in a state of distress
The mom stood pleading with the dad in her pink dress
The motif on the fireplace was quite elaborate
On the table nearby stood a vase, with flowers to decorate
The pattern on the rug was of exquisite design
And the room was well furnished, very refined
Father stood sternly his pants tucked in his boots
They were in shock as they found out the truth
Attired in a white dress, their daughter sat in a chair
looking forlorn and filled with despair
As her" beau" stood by the fireplace across the room
The whole house had an air of gloom
The young lass was pregnant and she had no groom!
Her dad was outraged by this devastating news
And was ready to beat up her "beau"
Her mom pled with her dad
Saying "Please don't harm the lad"
The young man did not come to ask for her hand in marriage
Causing the family's reputation to be disparaged
To add insult to injury the lad said he was already married ! (mother was in tears)
This was too much for the father to bear
On that fateful day one shot was fired
And there by the fireplace the young man expired
No storybook ending, no happily ever after
But love did triumph....a father's love for his daughter
Categories:
disparaged, life,
Form:
Rhyme
I waited
Under the outspread foliage
Of the banana tree,
With ripening fruits dangling precariously,
Wondering,
With eyes set on the earth,
Wishing I understood
This everlasting madness.
To what end would man go,
To what end?
A mystery it remains,
Like the age old conundrum
Of the seniority between the hen and the egg,
Like the unfathomable depths of the bottomless pit...
Oh! Lamenting in unbridled grief,
Mother of all,
Seated on an ashen throne,
Wails poignantly,
While her children trade mighty fists,
Wetted by her tears,
Buoyed no less by her flashing darts
Of fierce reproof..
I, a mere bystander,
Watching, meditating, confused,
Lost, trying to understand what
Led to such fisticuffs
Between brothers who sucked on
The small obfuscated nipple
And rode the same burdened back..
Yes!
To what abysmal end?
What, hidden under the rigid crusts of the earth
Drives man to seek so zealously
To bury his fellow man
Six inches below
And shake his head
From side to side
Wearing rehearsed frowns,
Indifferent, obeying the laws
Of anarchy, and basking
In the prestige
Of ill advantage?
For in these matters,
Fasidically christened "the survival arts"
Men show sleight of hand,
Dexterity and mastery of the deleterious science
Of death...
And for his fellow, he is unapologetic..
Fallen, have you into the cesspool
And mucky wastes of nothingness,
You survived not,
And as such, were not fit to survive...
We, must hold our
Small heads in mad agony,
For shamelessly, we have
Trampled on the little men,
So dastardly disparaged
Till they shrunk,
Into tiny ants
Who suffer in silence
While the mammoths fight
For the trophy from Sheol..
I wondered....
Days passed,
Nights went by, sleep eluded me,
Nightmares sought out my deranged mind
And tormented me,
And I could not bear it any longer!
I searched the lengths and breadths of the earth
For answers, from men
wizened beyond my years,
But found them not...
I found only fools,
Tightly snuggled in their cosy territories
With mighty barricades
And tall barb-wired fences,
Throwing orgies...
For they had defeated themselves...
It was then, I slept...
This time, in the gentle
Stillness of the Caspian,
Wishing I was never born....
Categories:
disparaged, bereavement, birth, confusion, visionary,
Form:
Free verse
You took proper care to stay just ahead of me,
but I never lost sight of your crafted distance.
My desire to be with you was strongly sincere
so, I often sat on your edge with persistence.
We never actually met until my school years
when your aspects appeared outside my school window
and my child’s mind zip-tingled so we could mingle.
We always played carefree in happy made simple.
Grown, you were my warmth thru all painful weather.
My hurt from life and people kept us together.
I held you while raising my challenged son,
and clutched you when his epilepsy had come.
I gave you my aches to comfort sad marriages,
then sought you when I lost to lonely and disparaged.
Know fears are no longer the strength shifting my gears.
My prayers have long been thanks stuffed, grateful for love.
Gently and sweetly, hear that I think of you no more.
You past tended me so well that my content now soars.
Still, children and broken one’s need you as peace tending faith's design.
Friend, you will warm me again when you rise with my last day's shine.
... CayCay Jennings
November 18, 2018
Categories:
disparaged, blessing, deep, depression, emotions,
Form:
Lyric