Best Halfhearted Poems
He stands upon the salty,slippery deck,
Yelling yaargh matey ,
with a halfhearted pirate drawl.
He's not to impressed with himself,
not an eyepatch or wooden leg,
not even a hooked claw.
The parrot on his shoulder,
is a wannabee,
a sparrow that fell from the Crowsnest,
from high up above.
It has no quips ,or spikes,
or pirate quotes,
just nesting on his shoulder
with birdly kind of love.
Aye captain the crew responds,
snapping to their chores.
Tend the wheel ,lash the mainsail,
take the soundings
less we hit a reef.
The sea going life is not for every man,
walking the plank,storms and rickets.
Crabs in your knickers ,
really give you grief.
Aah but when the wind fills the sails to bursting,
yards of canvas strain to be free.
And the ropes play ,sea going music
of a tension melody.
A song that captures
every young buccaneers heart ,
and soul and fancy.
For the music of the wanderers life,
an endless expanse of blue,
bravehearts and fearless men find,
quite a bit too chancy.
Black Beard,Yellow Beard,
the famous Captain Blood,
were all fearless pirates of their day.
He truly knows that he can be,
a great one too.
If he could ever find that bleeping map,
and escape this landlocked bay.
Press not to flaming lips your tepid kiss
Touch not this burning form with hands of ice
A lukewarm love can never bring to bliss
Nor will indifferent love for me suffice
Seek not with obligation to appease
Perfunctory in making love to me
Disdain is what I feel for “gifts” as these
Tis better far, my dear, to let me be
For if you not assess my heart aright
And think me one to faint with weak caress
You’ve not been seared by passion’s burning might
Nor tasted honeyed dreams that I undress
Hope not to bed me with halfhearted plea
With love obsessive, take a hold of me
Eileen Manassian Ghali
He's staring off into oblivion;
dead-lights, who of their own free will choose to illuminate
the gray matter microwave that is TV:
too vain, too vulgar. Thought Vanquisher,
brought to you by your friendly-facade-keepers:
the politicians pussyfooting on a pedestal
built of an uninformed (yet united) public -
whose belief in "connection" is in reference
to a wall socket. Not love. Not kindness.
Who unwittingly become hamsters on a wheel,
convinced of stars held in our pockets; while promises of prosperity
dangle on a string. Like Maya's caged bird we sing
- but not of freedom - to sing of that would be akin
to declaring the sun has risen in the east. Freedom is a given,
at least that's the belief that's bandied about.
There's a boldface lie in that belief . . staring us in the face.
Are we too ignorant to see or too coddled to care?
Organic antenna, playing a fuzzy station;
our loved one's voice like a pesky fly -
six-legged silhouette on precious phones.
Halfhearted hmms-and-yeahs exuding from lazy lips. A lone
wolf, misunderstood youth - the euphemisms of today,
tomorrow's regrets. The diarrhea of words floating
in cyberspace; ricocheting off planets, but never touching earth.
The constipation of passion - nonchalant bloodbath of values -
no one strong enough to carry the hearse. We'll have to work
together - in unity redirected - to carry the load of our ancestor's past.
We descendants who reap the aftermath; let's carry on and forgo the calm.
Complacency is no destiny to pursue; crack the bottle against the bow,
that ship has sailed. Let us dabble in truth, instead of sugarcoat lies;
deception maybe be sweet, but give it time, it'll go straight to your thighs.
Embrace controversy with a bear hug, and give tyranny a timeout.
And should our words sharpen swords instead of mold minds,
may the massacre be only metaphorical - and the white flag of truce
be mistaken for a canvas - painted with the blood of your passion.
Seeking My Pearl
Written: by Miracle Man
1-31-2020
I excel in writing when right conditions prevail,
I’m relegated to failure if I’m not giving my best.
No halfhearted effort will be of any avail,
and with that kind of effort God isn’t impressed.
A lofty goal, sometimes causes thoughts to stray,
and bar isn’t high enough if I easily reach my peak.
I just keep shucking oysters believing that someday,
God will give me the pearl that I diligently seek.
Dots of light dotted the dome
Displaying dismal disks
Halfhearted innuendos of harmony
Repetitive, unremarkable recordings
Minimally interesting, middle class, mediocre
Small wonder he thought, smirking, smarting
Discipline dismissed, discarded
Replaced with fun, funk and fad
Foolishness fueled Fukem, he fumed
No more, no more, no more
The military, military school, immediately!
Since it was Sunday in late December
the sun perched softly behind a dark
swirl - and the distant dust
turned the last ray from red to pink
well before the dainty fingers
of her small hands could count to six
The tide was ebbing but left lopsided
lines of foam-beige brine surrounding
crooked batons of driftwood settling
for the evening - in wait of the dawn’s
salty brush and the mermaid’s call
that only the mullet could hear
Sandpipers skipped across the scrawls
where some spirited soul had neatly
spelled the name Luna and etched
a lazy heart in the sand
made barely legible by the suckle
of less than a half moon of sweet Gruyere
Holiday lamps from the shops in the village,
baptized by a light steam, lifted green and blue
watermarks off the horizon toward the mangroves
and left markings of indelible ink where crow’s feet
tried to sleep and halfhearted whelk
nestled as salt in recesses of aged eyes
The scent of the sea was mild
Then again just the thing to suit
The keenness of the cilia that lined
the inside of the only nostril that still behaved.
And though the Mumps had left one ear utterly deaf
I observed the pelican call
This was neither the place nor time to breathe meekly.
A wordless titter throttled my throat
and I asked myself how life might be sounder
Her lily white hand, half covered in sand
touched the truss in my mind.
Smiling out loud my deaf ear could hear
her juddering blood - for she was totally (and wonderfully) blind
This modern world we inhabit
Is millions and millions of years old
And out of this world evolved a brain
That became self aware; and eventually out of control
Hardwired with a conglomeration of Instincts and awareness
This creates conundrums for mankind
This brain desperately seeks peace
But is at the mercy of an addictive, loquacious mind
This mind longs to be in the moment
But it's misguided efforts take it further away
So it distracts itself with modern trivialities
Only to return to the comfort of familiar pain
Plagued with cognitive biases
The only mammal with self disdain
The burden of awareness
The price a conscious creature has to pay
This mind adapted from an environment
That’s far removed from modern times
These traits are the driving force of our behavior
Sadly, most will suffer, until the day they die
We ask, “why are we self destructive?”
We’re confused about why we’re not focused on what's at hand
We refuse to acknowledge our shortcomings
Like an ostrich, we stick our head further in the sand
We attempt to excuse our destructive behavior
We make a halfhearted promise to try
But the problems not food, drugs, or alcohol
Those are just symptoms, not the why?
So, many become a victim
They conclude, no discipline or impulse control
They deflect by saying, “ it's hard”
Not understanding, where there's suffering, there is potential growth
Human perceptions are contingent
Filtered through an ancient neural development history
Hence, the human dilemma
Unfortunately, what we find, is what we bring
Sinister snarling swindling scandalous scoundrels secretly slither shamelessly
Implicitly interrogated ‘bout innermost insidious illegitimate impertinences
Ghastly Grotesque grimacing gumption gorging gruesome gimmicky gossip
Netherworld’s nauseating narcissistic nefarious nature nibbling at naiveté
Obnoxious oppressors outrageously ostracizing offspring to oblivion
Facetiously fondling flip flutter floundering their frayed frazzled foibles
Tyrannical temperamental tempestuous tumultuous targeting tallying triviality
Haphazardly harnessing halfhearted heinous hypocritical homicidal hatred
Exploiting embezzling extricating explicit evil entangled ephemeral effrontery
Tetrad of treacherous tyrannical tycoons tackle tantamount transfigurations
Implicit intermittently incoherent infernal insanity idling illicit insidious insolences
Malicious misanthropic madmen monstrously manipulating mangling mercilessly
Erroneous euphemisms explicitly eclipsing evolving estranged etiquette’s eulogy
Staggering systematic spiritual stagnation symbolizing society’s sign of the times
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on April 22, 2018 for contest SIGN OF THE TIMES sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 4TH
This is the story of a beautiful horse named Glory
Freckled and spotted
She stood but a twig
Lost in a forest
Of abandonment
Tires and barbwire
Surround her by day
And at night she suffers
The coyotes cries, not far away
Left with no food
Or water to drink
She stands by a tree
And hopes for relief
Halter grown in
And hooves overgrown
Not a grain in that belly
And left all alone
Withering quick
She stands by her tree
And hopes a kind soul
Will help her to see
There is life still
No matter how grim
Things seem from beneath
This horrid, old tree
This halfhearted twig
Awaits her relief
As the days pass her by
And she writhes with grief
Her name is Glory
All freckled with spots
Like a giant Dalmatian
Trapped in this spot
At the end of her lead
She was finally freed
Not a day too soon
She'll now find relief
Halfhearted no longer
And happy at last
Whom once was a twig
Knows Glory at last
Halfhearted no longer
And free from that mess
Glory has found relief
At Horse Creek Ranch*
*Horse Creek Ranch is, to the best of my knowledge, a fictional name.
Two words often spoken
in appreciation
like a polite token
during conversation.
A halfhearted gesture
delivered on the run
a meaningless measure
habitually done.
Seething with attitude
yet politically correct
a shallow platitude
just short of disrespect.
A offhanded attempt
to cite gratitude due
and it reeks of contempt
when someone snaps...thank you!
Yet when spoken with love
they represent much more
a genuine feeling
is the goal you strive for.
And spoken from the heart
they uplift someone's pride
and a smile soon appears
for they feel good inside.
A gentle touch of her hand upon his chest
Brings "My Love Eternaal" to his lips
Certain that forever is here
Definately brings an end to the
Emptyness their hearts have felt
For a moment the silently cheer
Gracious that they were both drawn
Heaven's light
It shines on
Janet tells a story
Kindly, this may not be true
Larry's mind begins to wander
Memories of Arbor Day
Nevermind, her story bores him
Otherwise she might have said
Pretty trees are found within
Quickly bring his mind back
Really now?
Shall I go fix us supper? Janet asked
Trees that accompany your story
Until now were fiction, fable
Very sweetly he then spoke
Wonderment how fast they grew
X-rays should probably be taken
Years are usually required, but
Zeal means nothing is halfhearted
Eerie parlor music squeaks out over the musty floral rug
No human people have been in here for a long time
The organ has lost some keys; which gives a weird sound
The ghosts in the attic cringe, remembering better days.
Once a showplace, the house is overrun by vermin now.
Skittering and scampering across the floor is commonplace.
Mice have nests in the rug, and in the long-forgotten divan.
Tiny streams of light come through the holes in the paper blinds.
Owners of this house have allowed it to die an unnatural death.
Urine smells keep the riffraff out; including a mother opossum.
It is the place where halfhearted spiders go to die.
Not haunted, yet, full of unhappy memories.
Why the organ plays herself, none of us know.
We wait in the shadows, willing a human to come forth.
Hoping they will somehow fix her up, making her fresh and new.
A man attempts to peek into the windows.
The organ ceases its dirge-like play.
We animals skitter into the darkest shadows.
A surprise for a realtor on this holiest of days.
Halloween, a day for crazed visitors.
Seems appropriate that he wears a mask.
awake I graze the naked mind undone,
my contemplations shuffle off to her
and no halfhearted muse, no not a one
eclipses her insoluble liqueur,
nor any stirring of the thoughts distill
the past forgotten heartaches and remorse;
and years will shed their years and on until
the perfume dissipates and then of course
her eyes will lose something, eventually,
her features, now, less vivid than before,
but now the night has other plans for me,
and she will be my black hole paramour,
in time, I’ll think not on her fading face,
tonight, just let me think one last embrace.
Somebody told me that you’re happy
That you’re moving right along
That you’re planning for the future
But I think they’ve got it wrong.
You’ve got everyone thinking
That you’re smitten and in love
They think you’ve gotten really lucky
Have everything that you’ve dreamed of…
But I know better, don’t I?
I can see it in your eyes
I see your halfhearted smiles,
I could spot them for miles
And I can sense the subtle lies
I know you better than the rest do
But I can’t save you, I can’t rescue -
You from your own disguise
So I guess this is goodbye now
Goodbye now
Good…bye
I heard she’s fond of metal’s sharpness
That she’s carving both your ways
But she’s cut more than herself
She cut you and everyone else
Who cared about you at one time
And you just let her do it
Let her twist her grips inside
So I guess you’re guilty too
You can’t hide the ugly truth
So I guess this is goodbye
So tell your lies
But I know better, don’t I?
I can see it in your eyes
I see your halfhearted smiles,
I could spot them for miles
And I can sense the subtle lies
I know you better than the rest do
But I can’t save you, I can’t rescue -
You from your own disguise
So I guess this is goodbye now
I guess this is goodbye now
Good…bye
Timeless and ancient…it has
been universally practiced…
Either unwilling…or longed for…
never to be
abandoned...entwined in all…
never to be suppressed…
Plagued by loss…filled with
bitter hatred at those that
caused such suffering…
Shattered hearts torn by
exposure to the violence…seen
by all as a grim reminder of
fate…
Viewed through the far away
instrument of destruction…
detached from the battle…vital
to victory…impossible to shake
the horrors of hiding in Death’s
shadow to bring a soul to Hell’s
burning depths…
Supposed skill needed to take
life from those unable to see
their killer…cold unseeing eyes
eternally search longingly for
the soul claiming theirs…
The public eye turns away from
the horror…unwilling to face the
sacrifices made to protect their
lies and false hopes…
Brave souls face the pain…
selflessly subjected to the loss
of comrades and brothers in
spilt blood…if only to fulfil the
timeless call to arms…for one
more battle…neither a triumph
weighed against the price of
young lives…paid to briefly
continue the paper thin screens
of security…
Souls snatched without warning
and claimed by Death’s
embrace…shattering hearts
with cold precise theft…fear of
loss…amazement at briefly
extended life after a spell of
carnage…brings all emotions
rushing to be forcefully
released a final time in
desperation…
Determined warriors unwilling
to fight…but eager to win to
stave off future battles and
loss…harmed and saved only by
Death’s bringer and
opposition…
Willingly exposed to conflict
and danger…needed to mend
Death’s halfhearted lust for
souls…overflowed with loss and
hope for an end to the horrors
of solitary survival…as the
unsuccessful attempts at
salvation for the broken
balance with the recovering
fragmented couriers of Death…
Overall…a victory with no
reward…a triumph pale in
comparison to the means of
acquiring it…pointless and vital
to existence…eternal and
ingrained in the hearts of all…
forever to be waged against
Death’s evils and wrongs…Life’s
losing victor