Best Feckless Poems
When she walked by my side on a lonely road
And took me to the other side, much more verdant,
Through the barren lands of scorched desert,
Clueless I was about the paradigm of love.
If only had I asked, she would’ve taken me there
Into the sunshine from darkened shadows,
From the juncture of fears and saddened tears.
But I remained silent when it was time to speak
Choosing to not tell her how much I loved her
As I held the distance between bliss and sorrow,
When impulsively I veered in the wrong direction.
And I never saw the pastures beyond the hills
Or beauty of the terrain past the river bend.
Going where feckless ages have gone before
Embarking upon a path well-traveled
Ignoring pretty flowers in unkempt meadows.
Yet, she came to rescue at the edge of my angst
From caveats of today, cautions of tomorrow,
Standing with me in the midst of winter-storm
Promising spring flowers in colors of fall.
I saw the blossoms that were about to bloom
And blush on horizon hinting of the rising sun
And I heard the tempo of a concert on piano,
While roiled in turmoil of the unsaid, the unwritten,
Hidden within the depths of my vacant soul;
Incapable of voicing what the silence evoked.
September 18, 2019
Placed 1st: Crossroads poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Placed 1st: Strand contest #710 by Brian Strand
Categories:
feckless, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
AFFLICTION?
It is said of young physicians when they first set out to learn
All the symptoms and conditions that known illnesses convey
They perceive these indications each one causing more concern
‘Til they make the diagnosis to their shock and their dismay
They arrive at the conviction
They themselves have the affliction
Now when learned academics write a thesis that proclaims
All white people are infected with a racism endemic
Filled with symptom and with signs supporting dogma that defames
Fragile folk are then persuaded by this plausible polemic
And arrive at the conviction
We’re all guilty of affliction
What could be more direful to survival of this blessed sphere
Than wild nature, once benign, by human feckless acts betrayed!
“See the wild fires, melting icebergs and the hurricanes!”- we hear
Computer forecasts yet sole factors we can truly call ‘man made’
Should we therefore have conviction
Of a terminal affliction?
Data now in a profusion never seen before these times
Flood our eyes and ears and minds in ‘monu-mental’ mind-bate range
Those with focussed strong agenda choose a menu that defines
And steers us, if undiscerning and from reason then estranged
To unquestioning conviction
THAT in truth would be affliction
Categories:
feckless, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
the saltiness of love
a riveting fall
unlike other tears
this solitary shed
like a drip of life-blood
the lance of each freckle
an almost feckless drive over the sallow cheek
finally landing on the lump of her throat
the last tear stains her pillow
tasted by encompassing family
a lovely bouquet
the aroma of memories
likewise a splash of a storm
lashing against the window pain
softly moaning wind
as she exhales one more breath
like the shake of a baby’s rattle
as the sun shines
a doe with a sparkling eye
and her fawn
through the window pane
her family exhales
and holds the snapshot
of her death
2/4/2019
Silent One’s One Last Tear Contest
Categories:
feckless, grandmother,
Form:
Free verse
When I need an uplift for my weary soul and to clear my muddled mind.
I slowly cruise along a country road to see what treasures I might find.
I leave behind the frenzied traffic on the four-lane interstate,
To enjoy bucolic vistas along a gravel road, my languid soul to sate.
I see old barns with Mail Pouch Tobacco ads now faint due to age,
And remnants of Burma Shave signs with their charmin' adage.
Stately homes with white picket fences grace the country road,
With roses of every hue surroundin' emerald lawns all neatly mowed.
I cross a rickety wooden bridge 'neath which country boys are fishin',
And for long ago summer days of feckless youth, it gits me to wishin;!
A lady waves to me as she hangs her laundry on the clothesline to dry.
A sign on the old country store reads, 'Wave If You Can't Stop By!'
Farmers on John Deere tractors wave as they tend their fields of grain.
They sure kick up lots of dust and I reckon they're prayin' for some rain.
I rolled down the windows to savor the wonderful scent of new-mown hay,
And slow to let an Amish family in their buggy move along the way.
Fat cattle graze on lush meadows, each with a meanderin' stream.
Horses gaze at me over fences as they look askance and dream.
I loathe interstates where folks think they're in the Indy 500-mile race.
I prefer old country roads where life is enjoyed at a much slower pace!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Categories:
feckless, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
When I was about sixteen I bought my first car a '37 Ford.
I thought I was hot stuff as about the town I roared!
It had straight pipes and a radio from which the music blared,
But for some reason my feckless youth the cops never shared!
Nowadays, kids with their noisy heaps drive me up the wall!
Their vexatious boom boxes and roaring pipes I can't tolerate at all!
They pull up beside me, flex their middle finger and with a silly grin,
Roar away leaving me in a cloud of dust much to my chagrin!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Entry for Sara Hendrick's "Two Lenses" Contest
Categories:
feckless, car, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
How are things in Rome, my love, the Rome we knew so long ago?
Do the crystal waters in the Fountain of Trevi still gently flow?
Does the coin we tossed in there yet shine? I'd really like to know,
Or like the love of our feckless youth, has it lost its glow?
I was a lonely soldier boy far from home and she was lonely too.
When I saw her across the crowded room, my heart skipped a beat or two!
'Tis said that a woman loves a man in uniform but I'm not sure that's so!
I felt it much more than that as in her eyes I saw a special glow!
I have fond memories of our dinners sipping Chianti with speghetta,
And the thrilling rides along the Tiber on our trusty old Lambretta!
The moon shone on just the two of us as we held each other tight,
Pledging our eternal love with a tender kiss on that very special night!
Alas, time moved on inexorably as it will and I returned to fighting war.
'Tis said that tossing a coin in Trevi ensures your return to Rome once more!
But it was not to be. I can only cherish sweet memories in my heart!
I sadly muse, "How are things in Rome, my love, since we've been apart?"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
(PS: I hasten to add that this is a fictional write otherwise I'd be in deep and
serious trouble with my wife!!!!!)
Categories:
feckless, love, lonely, love,
Form:
Rhyme
My love for you, is like a tender blossom
awakening to the kiss of the sun.
My love is a moth venturing into the dark of the night
My love for you, is like a virgin bride
awaiting the tentative call of her groom.
My love is a sticky web spun swiftly by a black widow
My love for you, is like a little brook
trickling along its merry way.
My love, a cotton-mouth twirling seductively in the mating jig
Your love for me is drowning in the fumes of pure desire
A single folly only i will ever dare to remember
Mine is like the burning flame atop Mount Olympia
Dying, like the glowing embers of sinful Gomorrah
My love for you is rekindled by the supple lips
borne hither on the breath of your Zephyr
My love has sailed like a lost vessel in unchartered waters
My passion like a phoenix will rise from the ashes
your disdain the anchor on its glory
It is a fallen tree, the crimson core of my fading essence.
Didi... xoxo
Categories:
feckless, angst, love, passionlove,
Form:
Free verse
Freedom isn't Free
It comes with the price of Responsibility.
American citizens are born with the inalienable right
To peaceably assemble, to petition
Their grievances, their aversions, their plights.
Freedom isn't Free
It comes with the price of Responsibility.
Marching and rioting; with causes so deep;
Hubris and anger taking the charge, engaging
In destruction, threatening the welfare of the public at large.
Freedom isn't Free
It comes with the price of Responsibility.
Women's rights, undocumented immigrants,
The racial divide and global affairs their major concerns;
Heightened by the outcome of this unprecedented election,
Propelling feckless tactics and undue aggression.
Freedom isn't Free
It comes with the price of Responsibility.
Celebrities jumping on board; rallying with acrid voices,repudiating calm
resolution for revolt and revolution.
What have they accomplished, what have they done; tarnished the
credibility of voices that should peacefully be sung.
Freedom isn't Free
It comes with the price of Responsibility.
February 20, 2017
Categories:
feckless, political, violence,
Form:
Free verse
I saw a feller today with a sign readin', 'WORLD ENDS TOMORROW!"
Lord! Have mercy! That's all I need - more troubles to borrow!
I called the preacher who knows all about celestial things,
But he had no such revelation (usually borne by angelic wings)!
But I'm a cautious feller who likes to plan things well in advance,
So ere my eternal bourne begins, I'd rather not take a chance!
With so few hours left I'll tie up some loose odds and ends,
And for my many past indiscretions, I'll try to make amends!
In my youth I smoked corn silk cigarettes behind the barn.
Many vile oaths have crossed my tongue beyond a casual 'darn'!
I sassed my Ma and more than once her sage advice ignored.
Do You reckon You could overlook my feckless youth, dear Lord?
I reckon 'tis a little late to see things finished that I've begun.
Life is so very fleet I fear I've left too many things undone.
But thanks to that feller's warnin' I'm ready to face my fate.
But, Lord, could the whole thing be postponed if it ain't too late?
This ominous event will settle my dilemma regarding predestination.
But hold on! From whence did that feller get his revelation?
Shucks! I bet he's one of them false prophets the Bible talks about!
Fiddle faddle! Tomorrow I'm gonna go fishin' to cast about for trout!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
feckless, funny, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
A wandering heathen
compelled to wander and wonder,
clinging to the subjective notions
and half-baked personal philosophies
that evolve with each new day
and whisper with each pale night.
Away from the Kingdom Hall,
past temples more austere
and churchyards more severe
and cemeteries filled with believers.
Away from the witch
and away from the doctor
and past the feckless witchdoctor,
casually to the throng of the witless,
clinging to the odd concoction
of odd concoctions.
Wan hoodoo drags the bones,
no voodoo holds the dust.
4th April 2019
Categories:
feckless, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Like sparks trailing
from a million, billion fireflies,
a single thought limns a trillion suns.
From the first small bonfire
flickering across four million years,
whose light imprints itself
upon the canvas backdrop
of a feckless, barely cohesive Infinity,
the matter of man, no more than
the past, transmogrifies the future --
denies the import of "real" or "black"
or any other type of matter.
Yet existing, it defines the local locus
of now and when ... and how and then.
The freezing cold of space
burns like energy backfiring on itself.
Somewhere, celestial lightshows
flare across parsecs of near emptiness.
Liquid oxygen fuels
the laboring lungs of multitudes,
singing out the music of the spheres,
maestros of a trillion symphonies,
platelets in the lifeblood of the Universe.
Like a Coriolis wave that imprints itself
upon a formless sandstorm,
a thought burns itself
into the very fabric of Eternity,
opens like a budding flower,
and initiates its own realities.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ibPT24qMTw
Author notes
Je suis un Capricorn.
]
This is my Desiderata.
Written December 2nd, 2005
Categories:
feckless, 9th grade, poetry, space,
Form:
Free verse
Better to be on the end
Of feckless bullying
Than to give into the virus
Of childish trolling
Because no 1 likes
When a hater triumphs
It's the 8th most deadly sin
And gives credence to those
No 1 should give a damn about
Because if they were to be ignored
Would anyone miss them ?
Would they not crawl back under
the rock they troll from
And god willing paper covers rock
And scissors cut through Bull Ship
Bullying comments
This is for the Members you forced to leave
By those who thrive on stirring mischief
Devoid of empathy
And human feelings
Jealousy is unbecoming
And is in fact
The greatest form of compliment
Because if you are worthy of trolling
You have obviously hit a nerve
Far more deserving
Than the wrath you may have incurred
And cuts deeper
Than their patent cry for help reply
As sticks and Stone's may break my bones
But your comments do not phase me
They merely raise pose more questions
Than sadly you provide answers
Categories:
feckless, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Crisp metamorphosis of color
Tempestuous leaves tap dance on
Tangled wind's insouciance
Wayward sun's scarlet wink
Feckless orange flirts
Fey cinnamon
Coyly bold
Feisty
Fall.
8/23/19
Categories:
feckless, autumn, color, confidence, nature,
Form:
Nonet
Clean down to the bottom bill
Smashing gobsmacked cashless
Simply crass wealthy wanting more
The silent till awaits the masses
Pouncing plastic rapist rapture
Stripped!! The global bankers dream!
Control the dough by feckless reign
A reckless chain to pitchforks once again
Categories:
feckless, money,
Form:
Rhyme
On weary ground I walk and think
Of you; your shadow follows everywhere
I go and feckless as the saline tears
That flow, I’m hollow.
Memories, impressions thus ensue
A measured dose that slowly dribbles
Through; like intravenous drips that
Bring in pain, I see the poison coursing
Through my veins.
Regret’s a stinking feeling to endure
It leaves the heart there aching insecure
A pallid soul, laconic, dry and dead
And nothing to the past can ere be said.
On weary ground I walk and think of you!
Categories:
feckless, forgiveness
Form: