Best Heartlessly Poems
**For Ruben O, My little Bro**
(This poem was written and a recording made for the contest sponsored by Team Poetrysoup which was deleted before it was judged. I wonder if this would have received a placement?)
Alarming, how analog clocks can tock back,
sound-off each morning like those hungover barflies
at the laundromat who dive-bomb
buzzing dryers as bleached belles
in heels attack threadbare tiles
with a stomach-turning, M60 click clack,
click clack. All night cafes fare
no better, terrify with their red-eyed twit-ter-
to-woo owls, their jingle-jangle spoons.
Heartlessly, the freaky knock-knock joke
of a barista smacks-down the expresso machine —
grounds for a massacre behind the counter.
The plink-plunk of rainfall deafens.
Birthdays send you into a panic. Too risky,
the onslaught of jubilation, the grenades that wait
in overblown balloons. New Year’s Eve brings histrionics.
Nightmarish, the yellow chimeras of construction
and every screaming chick-a-dee-dee-dee...
Ear plugs are a given.
Heaven is a soundproof room.
Even that plan holds more than a hiccup or two.
Horror resounds everywhere.
Babies thunder by in hot-rod strollers.
Frightening: the gurgles, giggles, ear-splitting rattles.
In the nursing home, an awful rasp of life
roars behind a tissue-thin curtain,
the horrendous lisp of oxygen, so deathly loud.
Excerpts from the compilation: “Prayer” 7
Inner Strength, Resilience.
I wish that each of us rediscovers their Inner Strength
And we understand that is a wild,
serene and pure treasure
That is simply forgotten - not lost.
Especially in the moments
when we need to say “no” or “enough!”
And get up, walk and attempt to set ourselves free
From all the internal and external voices
That keep us small
And try to make us believe
That we are irrelevant, inadequate and insignificant!
And also Resilience:
for the inevitable shocks and setbacks
And each time that we doubt, stumble and fall.
And that we allow ourselves to see mistakes not as failures,
But as perfect moments of great learning and understanding.
And let us practice taking time
to tend to and heal our wounds and hurts
Before we automatically turn off,
rush off to the next appointment
And mechanically, mindlessly, heartlessly
do all the things that we are told
That we are supposed to do.
© Sangeet Portals 2020
10/15/2023
Who ever declared you cannot?
Is a full blown, liar I promise you.
In their lives, they failed at some task.
And now?
The unmitigated gall, to drag you
into heartbreak row?
Do not buy losers' stories!!
To those with fortitude and gall ~
Comes an entirely, different story!
One where there was loss and
then came great glory.
I have experienced this myself
and know the joys of victory.
Odds are many poets are just like me.
Not weeping over lost loves with
a handkerchief under an old tree.
But finding new love, better than
they ever dreamed would be.
Their lives exceeded their original
schemes.
They go on and envision new dreams
Their truest friends stand by them
whilst their phony friends stroll so
casually and heartlessly away.
But, dear friends, know, please.
The dreamers will out do you in every way
With joy and greatest possible ease!
GO DREAMERS!
What if the moon was the sun
And the sun was the moon
If day was night and night changed too
If everything changed how would we be
How would we function as human beings
What if time was different and changed just out of the blue
Would we be able to sleep
What would we do
How would we escape such a catastrophe
What if we were stuck and couldn't leave
What if the devil escaped from hell
And you found out
But it was a secret you couldn't tell
What if God lost the meaning to care
And left you heartlessly dramatically scared
What if the cold turned into the hot
And the temperatures started up a plot
To come and get you and never give you what you need
When you needed warmth attack you and turn the colometer
On over freeze
What if you turned to snow and you couldn't do anything but post
What would you do if your skin turned blue
And you couldn't breathe
So you couldn't move
What if there was no heaven or hell
You just were a blank and no one could tell
There was no memory of you
It's like you were never here
You never knew either
Left with no fear to fear
It's like you were a figment of imagination
Your life was never started
There was never an orientation
Tell me what would you do
Nothing because there is no you
You stand an unknown truth
My Mother, like many saints, is compassionate,
Though lion-like, my father is considerate;
Like banyan tree, my family is well-branched out,
Grandmas, Grandpa, Uncles, Aunts - all are good; no doubt...
Precious among all, Pink Pearl, I am so lonely,
Cause - though ponder and wonder - I don't know wholly.
My talks are mad monologues; songs senile solo;
I'm my partner to my duet with heart hollow;
I'm a plant getting sun and water with no care,
In friendly fondling freedom folklores, I've no share;
I feel human beings, here, is mortal Islands,
Hearts heartlessly hard; minds murked; life barren dry lands...
I'm slow, soft, somber; savorless; no glory glow,
Deep down in me, like the Zambezi, whirlpools blow;
I look at the sun, moon, stars; not relishing them,
My mind mocks and knocks and cracks in a moody hem;
Seas surreptitious; ships succumbing surmise, shake,
My existence seems like someone's sad mad mistake...
Stories secrete; poetries pour; in my lone tour,
Losing, longing, languishing leads - love's lustrous lore;
Quill leaks; notepad nostalgic; words wildly wide,
Haunted heart - highest hopping horse- rugs rue rough ride;
Love lone, though looks lost, has its marvelous turning,
Lamenting lonely life lures cheery churning...
15 September 2021
''L'' Contest New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Who ever declared they cannot?
Is a full blown, liar I promise you.
In their lives, they failed at some task.
And now?
The unmitigated gall, to drag you
into heartbreak row?
Do not buy losers' stories!
To those with fortitude and gall ~comes
a different story.
One where there was loss and
then came glory.
I have experienced this myself
and know the joys of victory.
Odds are many poets are just like me.
Not weeping over lost loves with
a handkerchief under an old tree.
But finding new love, better than
they ever dreamed would be.
Their lives exceeded their original
schemes.
They go on and envision new dreams
Their truest friends stand by them
whilst their phony friends stroll so
casually and heartlessly away.
But, dear friends, know, please.
The dreamers will out do you in
every, conceivable way and with
the greatest possible ease!
GO DREAMERS!
November 9, 2019
These old paths of mine still dear to me
Lead through the woods to the timeless sea
Bringing back life's bittersweet memories
As I walk my tears away.
These old paths of mine in sunshine and rain
Felt my forefathers' steps in famine and pain
For the loss of a nation well that's no man's gain
As they walked their tears away.
So you dear heart will you walk here by me
Maybe these old paths will set your mind free
From ties that bind and the cares of the day
Come walk by me now, walk your tears away
These old paths of mine so beautiful and wild
Heard the call of the warrior the cry of the child
The accursed poor innocents so heartlessly reviled
As they walked their tears away
So you dear heart will you walk here by me
Maybe these old paths will set your mind free
From ties that bind and the cares of the day
Come walk by me now, walk your tears away
These old paths of mine still here when I am gone
Still here for new walkers to venture upon
May they find in their time when heartache comes along
They can walk their tears away,
They can walk their tears away.
I regret the movies
they gave you reasons to add a twist in life
believing existence without adrenaline is not living at all
and wild adventures are the crest on fulfillment’s stamp.
I regret the kisses
they were an experimental lab for your comparison
with cumulative scores so negative
whenever I do not do it right.
I regret the dinners
they were mere fun’s activities to try out the world of luxury.
While I was trying to build something honest,
you were trying to aimlessly and heartlessly explore.
I regret the touches
actions so sensual, deep and soul expressing
never penetrated your skin but are mere agents of warmth,
as satisfying physical needs is their line of command.
I hate the outings
thinking the expression of varieties and beauty’s many limbs
would be translated into a union so lively and young.
but it was an avenue for you to select my replacement.
What I do not regret is the love
twas beautiful, sweet, enjoyable and flawless.
I blame the human endeavour and not its blessings.
You’ve gone back to your ex, but it’ll sure lead me to a wonderful next.
My mother used to have a radio
Bagged in black imitative leather;
The round speaker, volume, tuner in front,
And a small antenna is hidden on top.
When she pickled bamboo shoots or fishes,
Or when she filled up cotton mattress,
She loved to listen to traditional music.
She turned to country songs during her sewing.
She listened to the folkloric plays
While she was busy in the backyard.
If by accident, she turned to the news show;
She stayed there for a while to save ideas
For a dinner discussion with my father.
Then one day she dropped the radio:
The traditional music ceased.
She tapped it, hoping to recover the situation:
Radio revived, but the tuning knob locked up;
Her amusing stations were unreachable;
Only the news broadcast noise.
She did not want to spend money
To bring to the shop or to buy a new one.
She listened to the propaganda news.
For the long years, the radio made
My mother’s world heartlessly shrinks!
My true love asked me for my hand.
Before I answer, I demand
He first must bring a bright blue rose.
"I'll search the world for one of those,"
Was his reply and off he went.
Then many weary months he spent
In searching for elusive blue.
I turned away each offered hue.
As heartlessly, I bade him go
To every flower and garden show.
"Come back with rose for which I pine,
I long to claim rare rose as mine."
His spirits sagged each time I said,
"I do not want a pink or red.
I'll only settle for a blue
If I'm to give my heart to you.
He answered, "Love, I've done my best,
The difficulty of the quest
Has weakened me unto my death.
I've sought blue rose with my last breath.
With these last words, my true love died.
For many days and nights I've cried.
Where it has come from, no one knows
But on his grave a blue rose grows.
For Blue Rose contest. Placed first
A story must be told or there'll be no story, yet it is the untold stories that are most moving. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien
Whose woes wooed me woefully
and banefully banished my love?
Let me be,
I’ll tell this tale
Some other time.
With all my longing long gone
and heart hurting heartily…
Let me be,
I’ll tell this tale
Some other time.
Destiny ditched me dearly
and life left me in a lurch…
Let me be,
I’ll tell this tale
Some other time.
Squall submerged my ship
and sunk me silently out of sight...
Let me be,
I’ll tell this tale
Some other time.
With friends fostering foes
and loved ones lying low…
Let me be,
I’ll tell this tale
Some other time.
Who broke my heart heartlessly
and troubled my tranquility?
Amid a group of gossipmongers
Goad me not…
I’ll tell this tale
Some other time.
If I tell this all-telling tale
you’ll be named in naming of names...
So, let it be,
I’ll tell this tale
Oh well, some other time!
~04/17/23
~Contest: Writing Challenge 'U' words
~Sponsor: Constance La France
A NATIONAL EPIDEMIC
If you saw those lusty nasty faces, you see it engraved in their hearts,
Even those trusted public officers, no longer bother to weed the vice,
They plant the evil, water it in every season, they have become infectious,
It has become contagious, even to the minds of the unborn,
It sprouts in plenty over the land, darkening the future of the nation.
The law officers lead the lane, in screwing and churning the law,
They shamelessly spit out justice and trample over it with their feet,
It has taken root in the state, over ages, helpless patriots feed the pigs,
Public servants are not excluded victims, the virus runs in their veins,
They love the flesh of the poor, they are their easy prey.
Ministers of state have made it their game, they hit headlines each day,
Its stench stinks in their cloaks, it shouts wherever they are,
The corrupt hungry veiled wolves, that now bite even in the day,
With ever thirst throats, heartlessly sucking the helpless patriots,
Betraying the sacrifice of taxpayers and trampling over national dignity.
It has taken root in the land, it no longer shocks to hear of it,
Funds embezzled, funds misused, dummy projects or enormous allowances,
Have made the common news of the day, it shocks if they lack,
The sober stand and watch helpless, with empty lonely ecstasy,
The epidemic is rampant in the nation, and victims run away from the cure!
PLASTIC BAG PLAGIARISM
I thought it was all over but I have
Been assaulted by a plagiarists’ wave,
And I felt used, abused, dirty .
I’ve received insults about a plastic bug (about thirty)
And a plastic bog. Some have referred
To my plastic as being merely big; or claimed (and erred)
To have seen how my poor dead plastic begs.
But the most heartlessly cruel dregs
Were making “plastic dog” jokes,
Not to mention the bombastic pseudo-erudite folks
With their sarcastic references (often sick)
To elastic clastics in the mastic,
And how my “idiot” dog was enthusiastic,
Though drastic and rustic.
From people’s cruelty there seems no refuge
But, who knows? When they get to the pearly gate
They could come face to face with a huge
Plastic dog determining their fate.
(For Oyintarere, a dear friend, R.I.P.)
In the dark, icy quarters
Of earth’s depths he resides
Jealously guarding his barn of harvest’d souls
He is Death, the eternal terminator of lives
LIVES!
Lives so radiant! Pregnant with dreams!
DREAMS!
Dreams which ne’er on paper express’d
Dreams which to any living being were ne’er spoken
Cruel fate!
Yet we watch helplessly
As he plucks the brightest of lives
In a senseless orgy of senseless rampage
Oh! My pity is abundantly shared amongst those poor souls
The eternal separator he is
The merciful dispenser of euthanasia he is
No time he wastes he in heartlessly putting suffering souls
Out of their painful misery
Endowed with an outstretched skeletal arm
Armed with a cold, rusty bladed sickle
He is the Grim Reaper
The eternal ferryman of souls
Ferrying merrily poor souls
Across the cold boundary of existence and death,
But I bear no morbid wish to be reaped or ferried
E’EN WHEN MY GRAY HAIRS ARE RIPE AND READY TO FALL!
For I shall stubbornly cling unto continued existence
E’en till the moment the doomsday trump shall sound.
Knock knock yo the devils at the door
I know I look familiar
you ain’t dealt with me before
Knock knock the devils here once more,
I bet you think you’re clever but you're dumber than the door
I'ma relive every little bit of it
I don’t care if it makes me look thick,
not picky cus I’m not you,
a coward slithering through
this an hour of truth you've no power too
do I look familiar someone once similar,
you spineless you slither you leaving?
I'll still story deliver,
that ego of yours still false swollen
I'm going to punch your fake figure open
You gave me my packing papers
I said I’ll get you back later and
The fact you killed the sane in me
is forever entertaining me
the thought you went in vain at me
explain it while the pain runs free,
from me to you,
shut up actually I don't care
You know people? Oldest threat in the book,
send em we’ll see how well they fry up and cook,
you can’t reason with me
trick or deceive
I’ll shout out my side for mental relief,
if they believe,
if they don’t, matter it won’t,
I’m not telling people I’m setting history,
your evil and your misery,
you’re evil, you’re misery
persistently you targeted me,
a sissy a coward retardently
until you dismissed me, was it hard for thee,
was it hard disregarding heartlessly?
time went by and you thought you were free,
random I am,
angles non specific,
I’m urinary tract,
Hello I’m back!!
Did you miss me,
I’m actually different,
thanks to you I’m down and sinister,
payback's significant
full focus now to finish ya,
nah not really that’s immature,
I’m going to make you feel like you
but miniature!!