Best Hopeless Poems
It seeps into your bones this silent sadness
Spreading like a caustic cancerous liquid
Black and oozing slithery fingers into spaces
Once open petals to joy and light ... and hope
Like the nap of a velvet pillow
Stroked with the palm against the grain
Changing smiles to tears and love to hate
Choking the light of life from your soul
You scream to release the impending hell
But the sound is choked back by the oil
And only a gurgle of a horrific thought emerges
The impact lost in the silenced words
No one knows ... no one sees
The unrelenting march of death that spreads
Beyond sight ... without sound ... in the depths
Of your being and your defeated mortality
Willing it to stop with what’s left of your resolve
Yet knowing your weak fight can no longer conquer
Surrendering to the chokehold on your soul
The night is your comfort and your demise.
____________________________
5/23/2018
French trader Tavernier in a greed-inspired way
Glared at an idol of a temple in Mandalay
Prying a gem from its eye socket, a curse prevailed
Tavernier died bankrupt soon after making the sale
Louis XIV bought the stone, 1668
A gift to his mistress, Louis had it cut heart-shape
For dabbling in Black Magic, this madam was burned
A century passed with the curse’s power unlearned
The diamond was then bestowed on Marie Antoinette
For wearing it with boastful pride, Marie lost her head
She lost respect from the commoners of her nation
This gem has since been linked to the French Revolution
Cut far smaller, the gem resurfaced, 1830
When a London banker bought the rock of infamy
Henry Thomas Hope survived; the curse appeared to break
For 70 years the Hope Diamond’s wrath lay in state
A Hope heir’s marriage collapsed; his wife evoked the curse
As she foretold, subsequent owners’ fates would be worse
French broker Jacques Colot went mad, suicide his road
Sultan “Abdul the Damned,” insane after being deposed
Then to an American the Hope Diamond was sold
Washington Post owner Maclean watched horrors unfold
Other household members died, but it was Maclean’s son
Ten years old, struck by a car, his Dad’s mind came undone
Ultra-light ray tests caused the mystery diamond to glow
With safety in mind, Hope’s eerie stone found a new home
It remained locked on display in the Smithsonian
Could it be to blame for all that’s wrong in Washington?
Tragedy also tied to raiders of King Tut’s tomb
Perhaps lessons can be gleaned from those who met their doom
Robbing temples, burial sites, outcomes always bad
Greedy souls’ quests for wealth can leave them totally mad
So don’t expect me to purchase a diamond in the rough
Considering this gem’s history, a sandstone’s quite enough
She has faced the ghosts from her past.
Traveled beyond the razor's edge.
She is haunted by shame's overcast.
Once engulfed in misery's darkness.
Blame it on insecurity.
Storms of emotion, she tries to repress.
She hides her tears in the rain.
Angry cries are muffled by thunder.
The wind blows away her pain.
A man's lust was disguised as love.
She was misled by impatience.
Her soul is cleansed by water from above.
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She wandered into the light & found protection.
A discharge of hope revived her spirit.
Now, she can withstand bites of deception.
She hides her tears in the rain.
Angry cries are muffled by thunder.
The wind blows away her pain.
Too long I limped along a lonely road, born into this Sahara desert of a life,
parched and hungry, face weathered and gaunt.
A deaf, dumb, and blind man, drawn and quartered by her knife,
back tarred and feathered by a vulture's taunt.
I searched the wide world for your wonderful smile,
tired soul devoid of that whole, found wanting of the other half.
Try to find the right words, after each lost and lonely mile,
my sorrows washed away by that sweet, infectious laugh.
Like hopeless romantic's lot, who climbed out of a dark place,
beyond my wildest dreams, I finally found you.
Yet daft was I to hear not., your prayer for love's embrace..
as two hearts lifted in love were bound to.
When last moon fades, no more hopeless romantics left,
and strings of sanguine hearts untwine.
I will hold on to memory's tender touch yet,
and all the warm days when you were mine.
meandering
along the hinterland
relentlessly I search
for innocent love
in the remoteness
of unspoilt territory…
a hopeless romantic
making inroads into
inaccessibility
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Don’t touch me.
I’m quiet, and tall
And out of reach.
I am weak, and worried
And out of sound.
I am nothing,
But the fear in falling;
Wondering why I’m not touched
As yellow leaves wither in the autumn breeze,
only apathetic thoughts remain
in this nonchalant existence of
my diseased body and over the hill mind!
It reminds me a time of agility,
A time of struggle and celebrations,
An age when dreams of a better future bloomed,
And leaping up those stairs to pluck the petals of success.
The illusion of youth, believing I would remain the same forever,
My beauty, once admired by the mirror,
My body, that lied about its boundless strength,
And the willpower that upheld my beliefs!
Now, my poor mind, dreadfully distressed,
on the fritz of my worn body parts.
Here I am, at the dusk of my life,
panting and staring at the steep stairs
called ‘rest of my time’!
I wonder, are there any tears left
to cry over the memories of my vigorous days?
Or, has time swallowed even the sorrow, leaving only silence?
I’m left perplexed. How vexing, how complex…
the plight of a simple man, (one’s ruin is another’s choosing) is moving and doing the least that he can, no oil changes no wedding band.
All this just to exist, just to be standing, still living, surviving this life with a pocket knife and all the time that most never venture to find before the last goodbye.
Like the return of high tide you can count on his nothing, nothing to show nothing to hide... a cowboy trailblazing the countryside.
Beethoven's eleventh symphony ?keeps the beat of this visceral epiphany.?
No piano key in record history? could serenade away the blue music that drips from the riffs in me.
How is it to be, so utterly free. No paper trail to keep folded neatly, a homeless nomadic home body taking what the rest of us are wasting, catching sickness digging ditches while we dine on delicious richness.
My intuition becomes twisted and misses the simpleness where my wisdom depicted the abyss, this before my vision was transformed by barely bearing witness to his existence.
I am the tundra barren cold and numb
A frozen wasteland where no light can reach
Between these poles, my insatiate self-succumbs.
In icy silence where no whimpers humb
My thoughts like glaciers grind, erode, and breach
I am the tundra, barren, cold, and numb.
The Amazon within once vital thrumb
Of life and hope now withers out of reach
Between these poles my insatiate self-succumbs.
Anxiety a howling blizzard's sumb
Entombs me deep a creature bleached of speech.
I am the tundra, barren, cold, and numb.
Depression creeps permafrost of my slumb
While echoes of lost joy my soul beseech
Between these poles, my insatiate self-succumbs.
Yet in this waste, where all seems overcome
A seed of strength cracks ice defies the leech
I am the tundra, barren, cold, and numb.
Between these poles, my insatiate self-succumbs.
He is so angry; school is the least of his worries.
Sad are his days; he is nine.
Grandma wants to kick them out; step grandpa hates them
aunt hates them
everyone hates them
they have lived in and out of shelters.
been kicked out - he and his three year old sister
along with their mother who hates a lot of people.
he is on his mother's side.
he gets angry if things are pointed out too succinctly.
I believe my mother, he says when asked if he heard grandma
say she is kicking them out.
defensive, angry, a concrete wall,
built to keep him safe,
to keep his sadness inside
the floodgates are not about to open.
he makes sure of that.
never let them see your tears, his mother says.
I may have to live under bridges.
but you cannot come.
you will have to live with your dad.
you will be homeless, and he will not want you,
but it would not be fair to take you with me.
i will be so homeless.
hopeless, homeless, rejected, dejected,
his anger comes out at school, classmates loathe him.
not realizing what he has to do to cover up his sadness.
Tell me why doe’s the wind blow,
When it seems that almost anything can over power this boat,
The waves rise slowly and surely a storm is on its way,
A day of innocence equating beauty,
For tomorrow may fall,
And today is already gone,
I've decided that tonight is the night,
That I set love aside,
This whole time we're provoking each other in a blinding violence,
The ship rocked and I plummeted into the sea,
And you dove after me,
But now you know that I’m cold,
The mast snaps and the ship floods,
We wash up on a shore and you seek us shelter,
Crying out my name you try to resuscitate me,
Keep your hands on my chest and wait for a beat,
I'll keep your trust in my arms and pain in my feet
We will all fall in the end.
As the time to rise approaches
No one will take responsibility
So tell me why does the wind blow?
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In this poem i give credit to 4 bands
for assisting me with the words
I could not find.
1.Our Last Night
2.As I Lay Dying
3.Dance Gavin Dance
4.As Blood Runs Black
I Hope you enjoyed it
Helpless Feelings of Matthew
Above the black clouds of Matthew,
Angels are singing heavenly melodies,
It is golden there, and winds do not dare
To disturb such tranquility.
They are loving those into their arms,
One by one from this thing unexplained,
Only that it stops the race’s arrogance,
What mattered money or fame?
Those suffering through evacuation,
Stir compassion though they do not take note,
It is all we can do to stay and not run,
Run toward them with a spiritual boat.
Then row them to our houses
Where they’ll find love and prayers waiting,
Everything to start over,
Would be theirs for the taking.
Above the black clouds of Matthew,
Angels are singing heavenly melodies,
It is golden there, and winds do not dare
To disturb such tranquility.
Crashing tides, a relentless assault,
Bitter cold winds, a chilling jolt.
Faces slapped by nature's icy hand,
Entities from the deep, a sinister band.
Waves rise with a thunderous might,
Like demons dancing in the pale moonlight.
Each gust of wind, a haunting wail,
As the ocean's grip tightens, a ghostly tale.
In the abyss, dark forms arise,
Silent whispers, echoing demise.
Deep entities with a grip so cold,
Dragging towards a final resting fold.
Salt-laden air, taste of despair,
A struggle against forces, ruthless and unfair.
Yet within the chaos, a defiance stirs,
A resilience against fate as hope recurs.
Welcome back to Hopeless.
My god we've missed you so!
Someone you once cared about
found you awhile ago-
walking the get-home station
and talking in your dreams.
You took a wrong road somewhere ,child.
Missed us too much it seems.
You stayed afloat quite well this time.
You really had us going.
But the river that bore you away,sweet
is ever backward flowing.
Now we're all here to greet you
as you slip back into doubt.
Just fall and let us catch you
as you toss your soul about.
So welcome back to Hopeless.
You know you've missed us so.
Why did you ever wander child?
We'll never let you go!
“A wound gets worse when it’s treated with neglect.” – Stevie Nicks
My heart aches,
like the sun aches for the moon,
but stalling became my shackle,
knowing an evolution was never
on the horizon;
wandering stark habitats—
paradoxically, a devoted outcast
tangled in neglect;
I lay isolated soothing my soul,
mending the wounds
I didn’t leave behind.
Truth is, love is a foreign oasis—
thrust into silence—
spiritually battered and bruised,
consuming the deplorable ruins
of those with sinister stigmas
attached to their very core—
void of fading humanity.