Best Mindedly Poems


Premium Member My oblivious eye

Here on the cusp of all things, is where I succumb 
Ceding my stuff blindly, toward oblivion and none 
Unwilling to persevere, without a modicum of fun 
Listing in perpetual stasis, til the spasm’s undone 

And yet a god may save me, or a talisman of love 
Some prophet of euphoria, quelling ennui thereof 
Placing good tidings, into a universal equation 
Edifying eternity…..revealing its exact duration…..

Alas he speaks in riddles, and treads a mobius strip
Each cycle forming a twist, convoluting his trip
Determined I follow, my awareness in collapse 
Narrow-mindedly stumbling into mortality traps 

Now I sense the endgame, but decline to exalt 
Its a distortion, an abortion, a cataclysmic fault 
Chance meeting with a nihilist, yields positive results 
Unable to see past zero, he reveals nothing but cults

Here on the cusp of all things, is where I begun
A contorted brain-f*ck, had no choice but to come 
A demon of clarity, with an open ended measure 
One who gives to please, but prefers taking pleasure 

To believe for one moment, I’d live off a dying spark 
Only denies potential, when again life goes dark 
With more light to come, my sunglasses prepared 
Eternity’s not polarised, just infinitely layered 

If a blind man articulates, I’ve seen all this before
Screaming and convinced “I’m a seer at my core”
Could be he’s mistaken, or deluded with Déjà vu 
Begs his final question, “do I have a point of view”?
Categories: mindedly, deep, life, perspective,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Idyll

(Base USO club, Zweibrucken, Germany, 1963)

Of a lazy afternoon, I sit
     propped up,
Bones aching, sorely tired from
     lack of work,
And dutifully read the comic
     strips
With bored eyes while my mind
     dozes.

I sit enveloped in my peculiar
Grayish pallor, which clings
And will not disappear,
And martyr myself to the gods
     of convention.

I smoke acrid-tasting cigarettes and
Loudly chew a cud of gum, popping it
Absent-mindedly, and I turn the
     crinkly sounding
Pages, one after one, slowly
     and intently,
So as not to disarrange the sheaf.

The dryish smell of printed
     comic strips
Irritates my nose, but I don't
     sneeze --
Merely wriggle it a bit for some
     relief.

My brightly polished shoes are propped
Upon the table and I lean back and tilt
     the chair, and my hair
Is closely cropped and combed with care,
     no strand
Out of place, pomaded and arranged.

My clothes are neat and clean
     and stylish
And I brush away a nonexistent
     crumb and
I slowly chew and loudly pop my gum,

Moisten index finger, moisten thumb,
And turn the colored printed page
     of comics,
Snicker at the antics pictured
While I glance about.

     And wonder.
Categories: mindedly, absence, angst, anxiety, loneliness,
Form: Free verse

Dementia

She sits by herself in the dayroom
absent-mindedly taking her med,
her head is a blank, she knows nothing,
braceleted, brought to her bed.

Sedation has settled her nightmares
and delivered her safe from her fears,
but who are these strangers with clipboards,
where'd she come from, and why is she here?

She's showing no signs of aggression,
as a matter of fact she's serene,
no tantrums, no throwing or spitting,
picture-perfect, a story-book queen.

By day she's the doctors' conundrum,
every measure is tried for a clue,
but the secret is buried inside her,
closed for business, not out for review.

As night falls she's back in her bedroom,
left alone in confusion and tears,
frightened, with nothing to contemplate
but the blood, and the screams in her ears.
Categories: mindedly, confusion,
Form: Verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Lovebirds

'...how do I love thee, let me count the ways.'
   Shakespeare: Sonnet LX111


He stops to buy her roses and a card
to mark their anniversary.
Strolling absent-mindedly he crosses
to the park and in his reveries he hears
two songbirds singing sweetly in the trees,
a melody that cheers his saddened soul.
He hurries to the nursing home to greet
his darling wife, the half that makes him whole.

He cannot let a day go e'er he sees
her smiling face, that smile of sweet
contentment that illuminates their souls 
and redefines their state of grace.
Living on their memories they chatter
like the songbirds, their conversation bright.
He tucks her in and wishes her goodnight,
God bless, sleep tight, (don't let those bedbugs bite!)
Categories: mindedly, love
Form: Verse

Borderline K-9 Cages


Parental desperation
is the dreadful flee bidden cause
Children separation
is the inhumane quarantine effect

Trying to cross the sovereign divide
is narrow mindedly viewed, by more than a few,
as a pestilent travel venture
Ill will is the chilling, unhealthy reception

The uncivil solution: Create an insane policy
for poor souls seeking asylum
Man-made designation is an animal control way station,
(also known as) Borderline K-9 Cages

See the perennially sad puppy eyes
laying fetal prone on the morgue cold, concrete floors
Watch the waning wag of the tongues,
their thirst for freedom dying behind iron bar doors

National psychotic behavior is borderline criminal,
keeping children in cages is morally indefensible
Diamondback mutes devolving into what?
Mental worms turning into heartless slugs!

Children developing separation psychosis
is a lonesome doggone shame
K-9 kids were never meant to be raised in cages,
yet no one wants to bear the blame

But many of the kennel keepers 
have gotten so inured to the ear-piercing, borderline pain
And the womb-ripped parents
are never told where the aborted-trip children were taken
Categories: mindedly, child abuse, political, prison,
Form: Quatrain

Lost

She always found her way home before
but this time was different
“Where have you been” he said
“I don’t know” she answered absent mindedly
as if she hadn’t really meant to answer at all
This time her eyes were empty
His heart sank he knew he had lost everything
Categories: mindedly, feelings, lost love,
Form: Free verse


Apostrophe To Dad

I think of how it was ten years ago
just after you departed.
All your close friends spoke
of your "complexity"
and we knew what it meant.

I look far back to childhood when
those small-town midwest Methodists
would call you "Revrund."  Well they knew
of turned-on tears
so common in the meeting hall;
but did they know about
the "turned-on" ladies
when you came to call?

I know.  You needed time with them.
Two small churches took so much
with little left for us;  I still recall
the single three hour evening
when you took me out of town alone
--to still another church!

There came a time for change;
as a chaplain in the army,
far away from mother, there
you quickly found the antidote
for loneliness...and yet again,
and again, again...

And then so late in life,
about to lose your second wife
through age and frailty,
you saw another, caught her
waiting in the wings, you thought.

All through those years you toiled
(if not quite single-mindedly)
in dedicated sacrifice for God
(if not for family).

How you were loved! 
Clay footed, to be sure,
yet everything you did
was passion-filled;
you wept and prayed
and laughed and played,
presiding to the end.

Complex, you were, indeed, my father,
the record clear and true
and I for one, will judge you not.
for I am much like you!
               ~
Categories: mindedly, tribute, time,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Who Will Watch Mother

We sat down at the kitchen table
Under an overhead light
And talked about my mother
My wife understood
I was the oldest, she said
Don’t wait for the others.

So I took care of mother
Paid the bills
Spoke to the landlord
Went food shopping
And did what needed to be done.

On a cold winter day
Mother was hospitalized 
For the third time
I waited in the hall
Facing two red leatherette lounge chairs
The kind that are
Inexpensive and easy to clean
Vending machine just a few steps away
All designed to make someone
Feel comfortable.

Startled, I turned
T o see a nurse
Coming from nowhere
Her face a masquerade
As if she wanted to stop
And tell me something
But couldn’t 
When she walked past me 
I listened to her padded footsteps
As she disappeared 
Down another beige corridor.

Absent mindedly 
I returned to random thoughts
Odds and ends of an old woman’s life
When a heart aches
 And memory fails
All is that left
Are promises
And words
Dangling somewhere
“Call us if you ever need anything.”

No one visited
Not the nieces
Not the nephews
She sent Christmas cards to
Stuffed with cash
Written in an old style of writing
Some misspellings
But always signed
“Love Grandma.”

Eager to show their concern
They call me now 
And ask how she’s doing
I cradle the phone on my shoulder
And listen to their words
With a blank stare.

Mother has taken a turn for the worse
Cancer has spread
There is pain
But the medication masks it
And she sleeps most of the day
Seemingly in peace.

Occasionally she calls me
By someone’s else name
She’s forgotten a lot of things
After considering
What she’s been through
Perhaps it’s better this way.
Categories: mindedly, lifeme, old, me, old,
Form: Narrative

Bluebird's Gone

 Springtime put a spring in my step
Bluebird brought bright bars of music next
I saw her sip at the faithful fountain; sing soulfully
As I prayed: wishing the world was well, more certain
About the value of various voices: bird, boy, girl, gadfly ...
I threw something out the window, absent-mindedly
What happened next is sad, sadder still, all birds are hurting ...
For you see, what I threw out so absent-mindedly
Was a careless word: "Shush, shush, you sing the same old song!"
Bluebird looked and looked, a long minute without a note -
And as silently as she had surrendered her songs at my abode
She flew off in a fluttery flummox. She has not been seen
Near me. I have been so sorry since, prayed in between -
But my vicinity may welcome the Trinity, but not birds this season
A word - my careless words - have wounded wren and robin
Bluejay and finch, Baltimore Oriole and Barn Owl ...
They stay away ... And the Mockingbird sent word with Guinea Fowl
That I am a moody man, melodramatic, even erratic
(Birds have forgiven; they have fathomed I'm a fettered hummingbird).
© Anil Deo  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: mindedly, absence, best friend, bible,
Form: Alliteration

If I Were a Painter

If really I were a gifted painter
And as it were, I was to paint a man
I’d get my draw board, brush, paint and water
I’d work as open mindedly as I can
To bring out the true image of the soul
God created at the very beginning.
I would produce a man strong, bold and whole
One that’d be in his image and liking.
I won’t paint the fragile man with briefcase
In three piece suit with bible and tie.
I would paint a hunter with open face
Returning home from the toil of the night.
-He looks savage hunting for hares and harts
-Yet he’s truly the soul after His heart.
Categories: mindedly, art, feelings, life, light,
Form: Sonnet

Tattered Old Mr Teddy Bear

In my bed, my childhood teddy layers next to me.
Absent mindedly I trace his now tattered seams,
And his matted brown fur from years of tears and hugs.

Even though I'm old and gray, privately we talk.
No, I'm not feeble-minded as some might think.
I talk to Teddy of my thoughts I had that day.

As long as I can speak, my Teddy is my guy.
He's my greatest listener where so many are not.
If he begins to talk, they'll surely take me away.
Categories: mindedly, humorous, memory, nostalgia,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Penetrating the Unknown

While waiting but not watching for the sun to set, perhaps the bullfrogs are creating the shadows with their croaks, my friend screams out because he has been bitten by a fly. He is not quiet enough so the flies obtain special pleasure from teasing him. Meanwhile bluebirds skirt the lake surface like the most perfectly designed fighter planes in twos or threes and argue rising up on their tails into the air. While insects prey upon and tease the bare flesh and blood of we humans, they fear the silent violence, the sudden huge presences of these family birds.

            A larva with a leaf tip for a cocoon descends a white birch by a long thread. We free ourselves from our writings to observe phenomenon. Then thinking about dinner. The flight of J. Krishnamurti, the eagle guru says even artists (after physicists and mathematicians) may penetrate the unknown if not too absorbed in their own emotions and imaginations. We common people too who loving our wives can love everyone.

            What eyesight the bluebirds have to swoop the lake from shore for a flying insect or descend from fifty feet on a thin straw grass and return to chew absent-mindedly! Just fun having song sung among men. As for the syntax, a daisy could swing it unthinking and coast. Along the beehive rocks ants crawl on connecting interlacing instructions. All around us and inside too as if stars were unseen but present it's true. So a man desires breakfast with his lady; could it be more amusing, material or smell?

            As the eyesun descends below spun clouds, spirit or the eagle or the drum? Round. The dialectic obscure couldn't be more better said. So round and serious. To love everyone with clearer vision than a bluebird or a lake is to transcend the innocence of insect and take flight action and feed the babies of fate. Phew! Dinner outside the cocoon. I brought myself a student upon the hill or mountain and said to myself I said Obo rebop in summer sweater and what less overweight can carry test uphill so slow? Presently, reformed, informed by the bluebird's eagle spirit, clear cleanhead, I return coagulating mightily ideas the bites of insects ow! to breakfast home and everywhere unknown. Hearing bird with clear conscience echo make.
Categories: mindedly, bird, desire, family, fear,
Form: Verse

Advent - the Basis of the Christian Church

Advent is the first celebration of the Christian church, 
Its first calendar event, not in December but in November,
On the last Sunday of November, and is normally, usually, 
The first festival/celebration of the church year, remember. 

Shops sell advent calendars to excite us into Christmas, 
Where you can open small, numbered flaps to reveal, 
A Christmas sentiment, thought or event as an icon, 
Which lets you broad-mindedly appreciate xmas for real. 

The four Sundays of Advent mark four different things: 
The first destroys the myth Jesus was a total surprise, 
Because it finds ancient predictions in Isaiah and Micah, 
As the media were the prophets then, with wide open eyes. 

The second Sunday lights a purple candle for hope,
Hope for societal revolution of the poor’s healthcare;
And also secondarily, hope in god who would ramify, 
This plight so difficult in Jesus’ time, now a familiarity. 

The third emphasises that you will find joy, pleasure, 
If you believe that Jesus’ message was valid and required, 
At that time in which the rich monopolised medicine, 
Such that that his followers had to persevere as inspired. 

And the fourth Sunday celebrates the Christian church, 
Coining a word, incarnation, for the belief in Jesus as god, 
For believing that god’s finger touched the baby’s skin, 
Validating that parental obedience, that poverty of the kin. 

And Advent candles suggest that truth was secured then, 
By Jesus death which stated the worth of liberating, 
Disabled and ill people into health and happiness, 
Because this societal light shines multiply as pervading.
Categories: mindedly, baby, birthday, celebration, christmas,
Form: Rhyme

After the Storm Has Passed

Gone is your presence, 
But forgotten not 
Is its place in my heart. 

Away from me you flew, 
Carried away by the storm 
As its troubled winds 
Whispered its lies 
With its cool and moist breath 

Promises of joy and ecstasy 
As you spun wildly 
In its blissful chaos, 
Un-mindedly subverted 
By its illusion of power and beauty. 

But eternal is my love 
And forever shall I wait for your return 
From the swirling torment 
That has stolen you away. 

Resolved is my heart 
And hopeful is my demeanor 
That you will soon be reborn 
Into my calm sky, 

As my patient arms 
Await your intimate embrace.
Categories: mindedly, angst, betrayal, devotion, hope,
Form:

The Passer-By

An unfinished afternoon lies strewn across my desk
   Along with an uneaten breakfast neglected by my left
While I tap-tap-tap my fingers absent-mindedly on the table-top
   As I impatiently await for the time
When along comes my long-awaited passer-by
      Now here she comes! Here she comes—
   Like an Eastern sun rising through the darkened dawn; 
She with gaiety a-light on those Oriental eyes
   That further gleams with her every greeting and a smile.
Yet I—I could not meet those eyes
   For fear that upon that good morning greeting 
 I would simply die and...

How many seconds passed, or moments did?  
   I finally to myself did ask, 
For when I came to from that spell though fleeting
   She was in front of me at last.
Her smile now mine, my gaze was hers
      And my wandering mind left me to wonder
How close she was that I could reach for her hand
   And it would be as much
Silkenly as I imagined her skin would be at my touch; 
      Or how exhilarated—enraptured—would I be should her heart
   Be confined within the circle of my arms.
The world would be a place less lonely—alas, 
   If only reveries could last!   

Now did I greet in kind, nor even spoke at all? 
   I finally to myself did ask
For when I came to from that spell though fleeting
   She'd been a couple paces past
And there I was left standing, a fool with nothing
      But the trailings of her scent
   That flowery fragrance she adorns herself with
For a beloved must be meant.
   Thus with such small tokens as smiles and scents
      I keep myself contented
   And feed my endless reveries
Imagining a time and place where her love
   May at my mercy be
Though I wake from those daydreams empty 
       Disheartened by the dawning in my mind that desire
   Is a thirst that in my throat dies
Each and every time.

Each and every time.

Yet by this time tomorrow I would still be by my desk
   And an unfinished afternoon still strewn across as well
Never reckoning if ‘tis worth my while waiting, 
      Though I would still be waiting for the time
   When along comes my long awaited passer-by.
© Robert Uy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: mindedly, love, me, time,
Form: Free verse
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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