Best Mediocrity Poems
A glint in the black, like stars
Pearly, polished, pointy peaks of a fiend
Fangs of self-deprecation, puncturing every effort
Coursing the flow of doubt, discouragement and defeat
I may not see your face, beast, but your teeth betray you in darkness
Dripping with the blood of my best effort and intention
Inexperience and ignorance, clotting ...
I am but a babe in the woods of poetic expression
Searching like Hansel, for crumbs of excuse and artistic insight
Oh, I see your vestiges, hear the gnawing of your dismal disregard
And your umbra shades every scribble ... every keystroke
But I know you well ... I know who placed you there
Yet, with a sword forged in kind encouragement and friendships, rare
I will stand on the battlements, and fight to the end
And should you gain the last word, it shall be inscribed ... in my blood.
~ 8th Place ~ in the "Plucking the Poisonous Parrot" Poetry Contest, Maureen McGreavy, Judge & Sponsor.
I wish I was a Poet,
but my tools are far and few,
if you could just read them,
you would know its true.
My rhymes they don't flow easy,
my rhythms sometimes flat,
I am not a poet,
its as simple as that.
I read from other poets,
the answer's plain to see,
my mediocre talents,
are not real poetry.
I try my best to hide it,
my real identity,
that I am not a poet,
in this world of poetry!
Never Accept Mediocrity,
(Control What You Can)
Written: by Tom Wright
January 2015
We were each,
Handed the gift of life, at birth,
So we had no voice
In circumstances that greeted us.
We can, to a large extent,
Control what we become as adults.
Good environment is essential
In determining life’s quality;
We fail, by letting negativity,
Dominate our thinking
And by not recognizing, that,
Believing is mile marker one,
On the highway to becoming;
It is difficult motivating the man,
Who believes his past
Will determine his future.
Before others believe in you
You must first believe in yourself
Tom
We all pay for dumbing down
educational standards all around
from thriving metropolis to sleepy small town
Incompetency reigns throughout customer service
Doctors' inaccurate diagnoses make patients nervous
Corporation mission statements, worthless lip service
It starts in the classroom, where teachers won't demand
if you want to say something, first raise your hand
Then later on, when rampant cheating's ignored
which leads to society's ox getting gored
So, let's stand up to teacher union's bureaucracy
Their idea of excellence - in truth, mediocrity
Insist on high standards, from grade one through university
and say No! to preference based on 'diversity'
In this modern day world where being average is applauded,
Wannabe’s and the fame hungry incomprehensibly rewarded.
These days it seems the talent less succeed,
Their lack of skills, and humility, beaten by only their greed.
The young and indulgent, saying ‘I want to be different’,
If only they could see their words inconsistent,
For if they truly meant what they said,
Then they surely would do something else instead,
A doctor, a scientist, an architect maybe,
These jobs are ‘different’!…or perhaps that’s just me?!!
Wouldn’t it be great to find a cure for cancer,
‘nah’ say these kids, ‘I wannabe a dancer’,
Well then how about being the next Albert Einstein,
‘no thanks, I’ll marry a footballer, his money will be mine!‘.
‘Celebrities’ intelligence, seemingly minimal,
Look at their lifestyles, their luxuries criminal,
And just how do they go about getting these things,
Often by showing their breast and belly button rings.
These comments harsh…in some cases untrue,
Some have skill and work hard at what they do,
But watching the news brings total frustration,
Gone are the days when I was proud of my nation.
.
Go out get a job, work hard and graft,
Not like so many, living off mum’s overdraft,
Kids and benefits, a modern day goal,
No wonder my country has lost its soul….
Titanic battle unfold as foreseen and planned
Almost the egg and the chick story ever told
A complex battle and partnership that desecrates
While they flex for supremacy of a land barren
Tomorrow’s temples lie in reckless shambles
Good has never been discredited to high degree
Excellence lost her place in today’s agenda
The dogs have conquered the temple with wild snarls
They gnaw away at the fabrics of the core of life
In a land where Idiocy is the credential that qualifies
Upturned values changing the scope of life
In corruption we allowed mediocrity and wallowed
In fervent prayers for idiocy to change form in time
A nation overwhelmed by real capacity in real tatters
Leaders of the lot confused in their ignorance and shame
Nation under siege on two fronts by identical monsters
Corruption has begot his biggest rival mediocrity
Leadership scripts oozing Mpu na iti (impunity)
Ten feet tall shadows
Dump cigarettes from their eyes, smoke pouring out their pupils
Spew alcohol from their mouths, dirty teeth cleaned white by whiskey, vodka, and rum
Soiled again by vomit, and the filth they spread
These monsters of beings live on concrete sidewalk squares
They are stitched to couches, and glued to T.V's
Hammers for hands to smash through dreams
Left like glass in the middle of the street
A trap set to cut deep into our heels
With blood left to pool from our dirty feet, to slow our progress
From the shadows
Where the streetlights don't rain light on our corners, their tentacles of ignorance will
bind your ankles
It will pull you into the dark, into their lives filled with white noise, and static ringing in
their ears
Into their houses with T.V's in every room, cold and void
it will pull you into the big smiles in pictures, a moment of fake happiness for everyone
to see.
They will pull you into their little, perfect broken households
And they will drown you with mediocrity.
Stuck in the mud,
and you don't know why that is
You got mediocre dreams,
you never aspired to be much
All you ever did was only think of yourself,
and now you're wondering how
you got left behind by everyone else
You always were the
worst kind of ne'er do good
Just another woulda, coulda, shoulda,
real bad, bad boy in the 'hood
Last I heard, you were a low-level mule,
carrying lots of contraband on a desert highway
You knew the risks and the unwritten rule:
lose the shipment ... somebody has gotta pay
Now you're stuck in the mud,
braying for somebody to come help you
That's real rich, seeing how
you never helped anyone you ever knew
You always were the
worst kind of ne'er do good
Just another woulda, coulda, shoulda,
real sad, sad man who's locked up
for chasing paper made out of wood
did the Greek philosopher Socrates
ever have thoughts of his own mediocrity,
did Buddha in meditation contemplate
belly-button lint in his belly button sedate?
maybe some Confucian spiritual medium
pondered dust in minute trivial tedium.
did Newton while conjuring Newtonian physics
diverge integrals to converge sum to basics?
who might think the relativity Einstein thunk
of rusted tin-cans, rocks and other space junk
the universal ideas of Hubble and Neils Bohr
might spring from ordinariness, not much more
did Jesus when building blocks of religion
view a mud stain on his robe with derision?
did Mohammed when thinking deep thoughts
find his mind became distracted, distraught?
did Edison surmise that he wasn't too bright
at candled table where he invented the light?
did Voltaire care what Michelangelo did know?
do mediocre minds reap what deep minds sow?
do great minds when thinking of great things
see the law-of-averages that mediocrity brings?
did Spinosa know that mundane goes a long way
to get most'a us through an ordinary day
my supposition is, yes, even great minds digress
intrinsically, mediocrity, is part of all humanity
© Goode Guy 2011-09-22
Can't stand this mediocre life,
These mediocre friends,
Mediocre skills which mean that
Disappointment never ends,
Mediocrity is like my house,
Confidence is my door,
People keep knocking at it
Whilst I cower on the floor,
My dreams are mediocre,
For they never will occur,
Being kept alive for entertainment
Like a pet with thorns for fur,
I love my keepers for upon me
All their affection they bestow,
But still they keep me on this leash of life
And they will not let me go.
Can we admit to failure?
Are you capable of accepting defeat?
Everything works out in the long run,
So its fate that brought you where you are.
A series of mishaps,
Fumbling around in the dark,
Every unfinished sentence,
It all leads to you.
Convinced by the nature of existence,
You believe it to have been a design.
After all you are alive,
Are you not?
And whatever has led to your life
Must surely have been a direct course.
You cannot accept the notion
That you were a byproduct.
A fundamental flaw,
Fear not, we all have it.
This ridiculous notion of the perfect past,
That has brought all to be.
It’s from this irony,
On which your life is built,
That has taught you completeness,
Where you should have seen failure.
I ask you this;
When has perfection been achieved?
Know this truth,
As silence is my answer.
And since never achieved,
What is it then that has been won?
Settled for, is what you’ve done
Second place is where we fall.
What’s sad is that some know,
Indeed the best of us do,
But to explain this,
Borders on the impossible.
So in turn this cycle continues.
On and on and on
Forever lackluster in the conclusion,
That is never the one we want.
Dare you call me wrong?
I would love for this to be true.
And while the possibility exists,
The fulfillment is seldom at best.
Know this my weary reader,
You cannot keep the foolish notions of your past.
Look ever ahead for what you must do,
Please prove me wrong and take the next step.
MCOII
Drinking,
the creative mind follows close behind
and it shuts out the obvious,
notorious for falling into easier ways.
Playing the game of their fathers before them,
they slowly sink away
into a place that’s much harder to find,
will it subside?
Could we revive all the broken traits and mend them,
come alive?
If this wonderland of worry and of futures subsides,
let it rain down, apostles sing softly of the lives
that they have lead.
Blended belongings
Show your Light shining through
How do fools survive?
Dreams.
I want to stand out
To be looked up to
Revered and praised
I want my live to live on
Be a member of history
Do something memorable
Achieve a mythical goal
Invent the saviour of man
Fly faster - go deeper
Reach the centre of the earth
Go into outer space
Land and colonise planets
Be the real Captain Kirk
Write the perfect song
Act; a tear jerking Macbeth
Dreams only dreams
This is what mediocrity means.
Since I cannot write about cherry blossoms
Like the Japanese
I write about silence of pine trees
On wind's lips
Since I don't have a marble bust in my garden
Like the Romans
I write about the sensuous ripples spilling out of your neckline
In language of mud
Since I don't have wizardry of words
Like Shakespeare
I write about your colorful madness
On a floating autumn leaf