Best Inadequately Poems
From sunset 'til dawn, how do I love thee
To the music of the cooing doves song
From the crack of dawn with sunny skies or gray
With each thought that passes into light
Of matter gray, each breath that I take
How do I love thee, often my heart
Strays into a lovely day with flowers gay
How do I love thee, deep, long, with each breath
That I inhale and release never to cease
How do I love thee, inadequately pure
Of this my soul is forever sure
How do I love thee, with phileo love
Sometimes eros but await total agape
In response to
How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
"Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."
Eros(love)..physical, sensual love between a husband and wife
Phileo(love)...brotherly love mostly displayed by friendship
Agape(love)...powerful, noblest type of love: sacrificial love..humans in the human state can only seek to develop this kind of love while here on earth..We will be completed with this kind of love in our glorified bodies after death..
Sort of a sonnet/much poetic license taken in this one..
Categories:
inadequately, love,
Form:
Sonnet
BP knew on February Thirteenth
Of structural flaws in the well beneath
Goldman Sachs sold its stock
It should come as no shock
The Lord in heaven is grinding his teeth
*Goldman Sachs was the number two contributor to the Obama campaign and
suspicion has surfaced as to why the White House has inadequately monitored
offshore drilling and has been slow to act on stopping the oil spill.
GS sold nearly 60 percent of its BP stock before the April 20th explosion. Coincidence? Insider trading?
Categories:
inadequately, faith, natural disasters, political
Form:
Limerick
From sunset 'til dawn, how do I love thee?
To the music of the cooing doves song
From the crack of dawn with sunny skies or gray
With each thought that passes into light
Of matter gray, each breath that I take
How do I love thee?, often my heart
Strays into a lovely day with flowers gay
How do I love thee?, deep; long; with each breath
That I inhale and release never to cease
How do I love thee, inadequately pure
Of this my soul is forever sure
How do I love thee, with phileo love
Sometimes eros but await total agape
In response to
How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
"Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861
Inspired by Brian Strand's contest # 231
I know that the rhyme scheme is not correct on this one but it just flowed when I wrote it awhile back..I hope that you enjoy reading it..
Categories:
inadequately, grandparents,
Form:
Sonnet
It was hard to imagine what the scenery had looked like
prior to the fighting. Now it was a waste land of chaos and destruction,
as far as the eye could see. When taking a closer look, one could see
trenches everywhere...with soldiers seemingly shoulder to shoulder...
with exhausted looks upon their faces. Mud and water filled the bottoms of
some of the trenches as the soldiers struggled to move...keeping their
rifles up as they trudged ahead.The sounds of gunfire rang out everywhere.
One could see dead and wounded soldiers by the hundreds as they lay
where they had fallen. Large shells burst near the trenches. The soldiers
who were still alive crouched...trying not to lose their courage a midst
the horror unfolding before them. One can visualize the one in charge
ordering the men out of the trenches. They then attempted to maneuver
over uneven ground...barbwire...and dead soldiers...all while trying to not get
shot themselves. Most were not successful. All seemed inadequately cared
for as they wallowed in the dirt and mud. One could almost over hear some
of the conversations between the soldiers...and feel what they felt. Some
felt abandoned...although many thought they were fighting for freedom. Day after day
they tried to keep going...even though most lived in terror...wondering if that day
would be their last. Sleep had become a luxury as they shared the trenches with rats and lice...who were out to find a host to feed on. As the day wore on...great numbers
of soldiers lay dead...their bodies unable to be retrieved. What an injustice! Yet
the battle rages on...and on...and on.
Categories:
inadequately, courage, dark, emotions, fear,
Form:
My Kung Fu Chop Suey Present
On my thirty-fourth birthday off to China's best; traveled I went
So very uneventful and unaware I blithely lost all my well-earned money and spent,
As I entered into a Chinese restaurant and telephoned Connie Chang's
Alas, I'd decided to relinquish my yearnings and fill my hunger pangs.
On an undecided moment, I ordered chop suey and plate of spring rolls,
Also, a bottle of plonk to keep out the shivering unwanted cold
I ate so fast and drunk like a half drowned starved human sprinkler,
Putting my calloused hands in my pockets, found my frozen fingers.
Then found out I didn't have enough money to pay the restaurant bill
Then decided to leave and dash; when all was quiet and very still,
Once I was outside, to my eyes, I was shocked with angst and surprise,
All the waiters were waiting there with ugliness in their piercing eyes!
All at once they did many Kung Fu Chops unto my veiled eyes and stamped on my head
Their contempt in their eyes was to leave me so bruised and brutally dead,
They violently attacked me like a raging tiger in heat, then all at once I was still and all alone,
My blood had been spread apart and muscles were strung out and splintered right to my very bone.
They surely unraveled me, quite inadequately because back then I was very sure
This adventure of mine was an espionage of a birthday present for me to remember much of violence and gore,
I callously lay in a hospital bed for six or seven long endless months or weeks
I'm telling you all this had happened for a simple plate of chop suey and fresh steaks and leaks,
You do a great many of silly things when you are young and adventurous--haha! And that was all in a blurr.
Categories:
inadequately, adventure, birthday, travel,
Form:
Ode
To anyone who has lost a loved one to drug addiction.
Have you ever experienced a lovers electric caress,
freely given from the heart, no semblance of duress.
Gaze briefly into the cracked mirrors, of my now tortured soul,
composition of memories, for whom the lonely church bells toll.
Gone so hopelessly slow, into renegade obsidian night,
even the herald angels weep, when pondering my plight.
Seemingly divinely arranged, blessed with innocent wonder,
ensuing hells jealous charade, unjustly tearing asunder.
Cry not for lost dreams, unrealized and vanished,
but hear silent screams, for the life forever banished.
Delivered by Hades hateful spawn, on cyclone winds of rage,
bear witness my destiny, composed on a torn tear soaked page.
Blistered melodies from my soul, I now selfishly croon,
my symphony of a love, that was adjudicated too soon.
For although once I felt enraptured and blissfully complete,
consistent foreboding feelings, threaten my worldly defeat.
And though destiny unjustly chose, to shatter and tear,
fractured memories of true love, I shall constantly bear.
Down lives twisted path, I am obliged to audaciously wander,
inspired by fleeting dreams, of encounters I'll continue to ponder.
And though early in life, intruded the hateful dark reaper,
comprehending her legacies' plea, my knowledge grows deeper.
For to fall short of the visions or conspired aspirations,
inadequately gives undue merit, to corrupt incarnations.
Facing upward towards the glimmering sun,
nonchalantly warm in the fact, the day will soon come.
Inevitably our journeys at long last shall meet,
And eventually in heaven, we'll be finally complete.
Categories:
inadequately, lost love, lost, lost,
Form:
This poem was written for my friend Sonya Mako Wong
Kung Fu Chop Suey
On my twenty-fifth birthday off to China's best travelled I went
So very unfruitful and unaware I enormously lost all my money thus spent,
Then I entered a Chinese restaurant and telephoned Tonya Chang's,
Alas, I'd aimed to relinquish my yearnings of humble hunger pangs.
In a strategic moment, I ordered chop suey and a plate full of spring rolls,
Also, a full bottle of plonk to keep out the shivering unwanted cold
I ate so fast and drank like a half drowned starved tinkler,
Putting my hands in my pockets, found nothing but frozen fingers.
Found out I did not have enough money to pay for the food bill
Right there and then decided to leave when it was quiet and so still,
But then once outside, all to my eyes was shocked with utter surprise,
Were all the waiters standing there with venom in their piercing eyes!
They all did many kungFu chops unto my veiled eyes, then stamped on my head
their obvious contempt was to leave me so bruised and so very dead,
They attacked me like a lunging tiger in heat, then I was so still and prone,
For my blood had rippled and muscles were strung out and splintered right to the bone.
They surely unravelled me, inadequately back then that was so very sure,
A quite eventful birthday present to remember full of much violence and gore
I lay in a hospital for an extended six or seven long months or weeks,
All this had happened for a simple plate of chop suey and fresh leaks.
You do plenty of silly things when your young-ha ha! And that was all a blur!!
Categories:
inadequately, city, dedication, friend, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme
Hell freezes over. Fire into ice.
Ice…but without the chill, the cold.
I try to rethink how this happened.
How a world so green, so vibrant, become hell.
And now a pale white wasteland.
Agony to relief. A relief that can’t possibly last.
Impossibilities. A dream. Numbness.
As I emerge from my shelter, built to withstand dry heat, not cool precipitation.
I wonder at the beauty of this new and strange world.
The scorching I’ve received, now soothed by the cooler air.
Miniscule crystals, floating slowly to the earth, sticking to my hair.
Like dust. Not cold.
I see others as well, marveling at this white world,
revealing themselves to be inadequately clothed for this overnight change.
I hear a child’s laughter, excited screams as she experiences the cold for the first time.
I turn to watch, a smile on my face.
There in the white, brash scarlet stains the pureness.
The girl’s excitement turns to anguish.
She clutches her head, letting out a piercing cry.
Before my eyes, she transforms.
Her arms, becoming broken and lengthy, ending in tentacles.
Her face, distorted beyond recognition.
More cries, bawling, hammering of fists.
All around me, those whom I’ve grown up with become unrecognizable.
Their skin becomes a sickly green beige, the colour of vomit.
Suddenly everything stops. Silence…
Categories:
inadequately, adventure, daughter, death, father,
Form:
Epic
morning rhythm is interrupted
debris from the ceiling falls on her last used paper plate
i wake up with an six month odor with no hygiene whatsoever
i care not for my job, my bills, my family, or even my life
no i take no drink
no i take no drug
no i have not a thought of suicide
i just think of her in a trance of oblivious carelessness
i am a hoarder via unknown circumstances....(but i know)
afternoon distortion is welcomed
dust from the air tickles the sensitive hairs in around my nostrils
i just sit anywhere thinking of her without regard for consequences
yes i blame her
yes i blame myself
yes i merge the two on purpose
i just miss the hell out of her in that manly way that constipates the tear ducts
i am the main public enemy number one of myself....(and i know)
nighttime disorientation is oddly celebrated
i say my prayers inadequately with a false hope masquerading as a source of faith and truth
i just lay in the bed pretending the water stained ceiling has a skylight in the middle
no i have no dream
no i have no nightmare
no i have no insomnia
i just wish her was here healing me with her divine guarantees
i am antagonistic fool with paintbrush splinters, a broken easel, and a deflated ego....(i never knew)
Categories:
inadequately, depression, i miss you,
Form:
Free verse
A saccharine rueful cry rode upon the wind,
not a howl but a solemn ceaseless wail of tears
whispering a last bell's ring, peal and tolling goodbye;
a farewell to blended melancholic images and visions
that once permeated the echoing halls and corridors
where voices rang a rhythmic haunt of point and purpose.
Now only the mournful chimes ring out
blending into one solitary hum of shrill vibrations
when heores fall and memories grow hollow and short;
their now inaudible representation fading
for those left to enviously follow
or others to willingly ignore the footsteps.
Imprinted on the breeze
the aureole of brillint sun begins to fade
and history inadequately records the garbled sounds;
time passing, inconceivable kaleidiscope discolorations
the venerated celibacy of thought expunged
by inherent truism of the amulets of freedom.
Tremulous and tender the pedantic strident sings loudly
and the ooze of the death knell tolls ineptly sings,
straining the ear to open, hear, listen to the reverberations;
the anthologic repository rigid, closes, locks in the wind,
while the alcove resounds indulgent in unequivocal silence
definitive climatic acknowledgement, the knell secured and muffled.
8/26/18 Edward ibeh's Wind Chimes contest
also, in honor of John McCain's passing.
Categories:
inadequately, analogy, sound,
Form:
Free verse
Your Bestiality seems to
Become a reality
Fingertips....wet lips
I love it when you lick
Honey-dipped skin
I can do nothing
But comply to your
Every whim and appetite
Ohhhh...I love the way you bite
When I seem to entice
Your heightened itch
Yes I don’t mind being called your B....
The groans and moans
You want silenced
For all those who want to listen
To this kinky event
In this position I’m willing
To do anything....even pay the rent
I’m developing some type
Of anatomical monkey on my back
Yet your rhythm remains
Conclusively enacted
When I throw it back
I was inadequately prepared
For these moments of
Lascivious acquisitions
And animalistic demeanors
How I savor these junctures of carnality
And your monstrous bestiality
Categories:
inadequately, lust,
Form:
Free verse
The Flash of my eyes
Does nothing to arise
An element of surprise
Or even evoke
Delectable daydreams
In the sweat streaming down your backside
All I can do is keep
Pumping the beat for what it's worth
Once the throbbing drips
And these wicked beads of perspiration
Salty sweet
Implores me to lick my lips
Boo, I just got to work you
I'm pulling out all the stops
I cannot notice you
Noticing me
Making you notice
Because once the 8 track
Abandons all thoughts of sustaining
My virtue
Brilliantly lights
The carnal urge
To surge and purge
This wicked temptation
Urge, surge, and purge me
I am completely yours
I managed to be
Inadequately dressed for the occasion
But baby it's just a dance
If I let the earth shake and I thoughtlessly
Separate
Then I must've left my respect by the door
Harmless caresses will only hurt you more
I promise nothing
Something
Isn't what I am looking for
If I push up hard and slow
Will you pursue the flow
And let it go
Inspired soloist I am
In complete command
I don't need to know your name
When you came, or your wallet size
Once the music starts
It's only you and I on the floor
Tantalizing friction, and nothing more
Categories:
inadequately, introspection, passion,
Form:
Free verse
Polypaths
lead neuro-systemically back
to Mother/Child original wombed attachment
A remarkably warm
and wet counterpoint
to a sterile anthrosupremacist theory
of Original Separating Sin.
Instead,
in this organic preternatural
panentheistic
spiritual experience
of win/win healthy wealth,
co-attachment overrides win/lose
zero-sum compromised
competitive relationships
Patriarchal
and capitalist self creationships
come later
as post-partum polarizing issues
aggravated by contemporary
climate pandemic anxious
post-millennial expectations
Not supporting child-conceiving,
child-weaving,
child-rearing maternal
maturing ecofeminist instincts
Substituting win/lose separation anxieties
EarthMother apartness
sacrilegious loneliness
autistic detachment
relentless aching solitude
absence of warm humane touch
and transcendently divine revision
Moving toward lose/lose claustrophobic
degeneration of a healthy
maternally wealthy
root secure resilient attachment
AND
devoid of a wealth-feeling child
securely unwounded, emerging
from EarthMother's green womb
of co-enlightenment
spiritually opening
and then naturally closing
then co-empathic redisclosing
remembering tombs of ancient co-intelligence
multigenerational
interdependent webs
integrating EarthTribe enlightened
empowerment.
Original Sin
implies our Creator of Integrity
made us
an anthropomorphic mistake
Inadequately assumes
that humanity's spirituality
is dualistically severed
from divinity's naturality;
that Yintegral deep Flow
is not also Yang widely polycultural Strength
of polypathic cooperation
This, in turn,
confuses a LeftBrain monotheistic dominant
either/or unmindful anthrosupremacist way
of ZeroSum calibrating
win/win regenerative
analogical health/wealth
Child/EarthMother care
Which could not support
Lose/Lose Original Sin
of degenerative genocide
inspiring evangelical red terrorist
desperate,
Seize the AnthroSupremacist Day,
ecocide.
Categories:
inadequately, appreciation, culture, health, integrity,
Form:
Political Verse
I have been constantly sleeping a million minutes, my dear
I have wept about a million tears and I don’t feel cheer
I have crept a million miles just to smile ear to ear,
Waiting for some kind of relief and happiness to draw near…
Just to get here, just to get here
Are you all ears? Are you all ears?
I am sorry that I felt so much fear
Beyond the cheers of yesteryears
I am a regretful sleeper
I am a careless creeper
I am a loud and proud dreamer
A waterfall of warped-up lies
I am still a believer…a believer…
A wise fool in someone else’s eyes
I am a regretful sleeper
A big-time, terrible regretter
Went to the hospital countless times
After going to the bar nine out of ten times
Went to the hospital countless times
Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t a regretful sleeper of my dark childhood and darker adulthood times…
I have been feeling horrible most of my life, my lonesome baby
I have wept a billion stars in the galaxies up in here, you see?
I spiral madly into the universe of what we used to be,
Down for some satisfaction and cheerfulness to set me free…
Just to get here, just to get here
Are you all ears? Are you all ears?
I am sorry that I felt so much fear
Beyond the cheers of yesteryears
I am a regretful sleeper
I am a careless creeper
I am a loud and proud dreamer
A waterfall of warped-up lies
I am still a believer…a believer…
A wise fool in someone else’s eyes
I am a regretful sleeper
A big-time, terrible regretter
Went to the hospital for suicidal ideations
Due to having a blast at the bar last night
Went to the hospital for emotional reasons
I’m now a regretful sleeper with my might
My condolences for making a fool out of me
My condolences for being a remorseful, lamentable dreamer
My condolences for sleeping for hours on end inadequately
But, I am unapologetic cuz I am no longer a regretful sleeper
Categories:
inadequately, angst, anxiety, conflict, courage,
Form:
Lyric
In the desert of my mind
Are nomadic dunes of ineptitude.
I traverse these dunes
Seeking words
Like a thirsting man after water.
My search is slow and ponderous
As my feet sink deeply
Into sands of frustration.
Drops of imagination
Fall from my brow
And are absorbed in the same sands.
Cresting a barrier of mediocrity
I see a puddle of liquid letters
Left by some recently passed storm.
I race to this source of inspiration
As quickly as my inability will allow.
Kneeling beside this tiny pool of possibilities
I cup my trembling hands
And scoop out the last swallow of satisfaction.
I bend my face low
To drink in the sweet elixir of purpose,
But, in so doing, I lose my balance.
I splay my hands to catch myself
And thus release the vagrant liquid,
Sending it back to the earth.
I watch disbelievingly
As tiny grains of discouragement
Darken under the stain
Of lost expectation.
“No!” I cry as I snatch up the sand
Now wet with the dew of my hope.
Would that I could
Suck the very moisture from each particle
That sticks to my hands in damp mockery.
The refreshing coolness of anticipation
Evaporates much too quickly.
In the stifling air of despondency
The grains dry and cascade form my hands
In a slow waterfall of contempt.
The realization of my fate
Comes to me in a wave of despair.
Anguish wells inside me
And pours forth in tears
Of hopelessness.
They stream down my cheeks
And breach the dam of futility.
They then pass with a salty sting
Over my immobile, cracked upper lip.
My tongue darts about
And absorbs the drops of destitution
Greedily.
So it is my thirst for words
Is momentarily,
Yet inadequately, appeased.
Categories:
inadequately, on writing and words,
Form:
Free verse