Best Misdirected Poems
From an insufferable, unceasing rain of disappointment,
I try to hide my scars under the cloak of a smile.
Alas, this master of disguise, fools but one.
My dreams are like a reverent prayer
that's lost its relevance to love.
Shrouded in ominous clouds of deception,
I am a refugee of doubt with no joy in reality.
I wade through poems that never rhyme,
from memories that never mend.
I cower from this rumbling squall of loneliness
and shrink from the shards of misdirected words.
The mantle of hope escapes my ambitions, forever silencing my courage.
I am drowning in discontent.
Brainstorm Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
10/16/2018
1st. Place
Lili Marlene
In times of war, love can subdue cynical
(Men separated from their vocation, now filled with hatred),
And quell the beast inside their misdirected hearts,
And free their consciences to allow sorrow’s comfort.
A noisy silence pervades the barracks’ atmosphere,
Where soldiers stir, stuffing duffel bags with miscellaneous items,
While others reminisce, writing letters; maybe their last,
And await deployment orders for the Western and Eastern Fronts or Africa.
Belgrade, a woman’s voice over the airwaves is transmitted,
Allowing for a moment of silence and reflection for those listening
Alone; spiritually uplifted by memories of better times,
They seek a reason to justify this madness of sacrifice.
“My Dearest Marlene,” the pen begins when all hell breaks loose.
By bombs flashing bright, bloody hands write, then the pen stops:
“Until we meet again underneath the corner light,
Like we used to do, my Lili Marlene.”
***
Note:
"Lili Marlene" is a German love poem set to music by Norbert Schultze (1911–2002) in 1938, based on the poem “The Song of a Young Soldier on Watch,” written by Hans Leip (1893–1963) in 1915 during World War I. The song was first recorded by Lala Andersen (1905–1972) in 1939 under the title “The Girl Under the Lamps,” which became popular during World War II (1939–1945) among both the Axis and Allied troops. The song was first broadcast by the German Radio Belgrade station throughout Europe and North Africa, following the Nazi occupation of Belgrade in 1941.
Marlene Dietrich (1901–1992) was the daughter of a Prussian officer. She refused to work in Nazi Germany and was branded a traitor by Nazi supporters when she became an American citizen in 1937. She gave over 500 performances entertaining Allied troops from 1943 to 1946. Marlene Dietrich recorded the song entitled “Lili Marlene” in 1944 for Decca Records (US) and Brunswick Records (UK), which was released in 1945.
When days are filled with dark clouds, when words can not console
With heart and spirit frozen, sometimes you will lose control
The warm sunlight may fade; and tears roll over night into day
As the first bout subsides, then feelings get mixed in haste
I watched you standing empty from afar, feeling used; out of place
Your misdirected anger turned inward during this phase
With shaky confidence, you doubt yourself taking on all blame
Making excuses, ‘No one’s perfect’; blind, you're not the same
We don't mature equally; some remain selfish brats
Like a child may equate love to games, we can become certified “rats”
In their world, it is all about “me”, “look at me”; and forever in need
Soon, your pain will be washed away and at peace you’ll come to be!
Healing will come from one who loved you long before you were born
Whatever he has willed for you, from your hands will never be torn
Aware of your needs, alll gifts to you will one day lie within your palms
I pray that time, becomes for you a gentle, soothing balm
~*~
Nightmares, jungles, blood on hands
Unjust war in distant lands
Scars that no one else can see
Memories doing battle with his sanity
Off to war, a rich man’s fool
Rich man’s son was off to school
Some came home in boxes, statistics mount
Media smiles announcing body count
Working man’s sons without a voice
Off to war without a choice
Coming home to hate, the fire fanned
Misdirected Anger in his native land
Dismayed with the war, activists groups
Pointing blame at the drafted troops
So many dead through the bloody nights
Protecting rubber trees and oil rights
After the storm, there was no calm
Soldiers coming home from Vietnam.
Dedicate to Vietnam vets who served valiantly,
unappreciated at home
Behold the humble Cowbird, such an evolutionary quirk.
Somehow nature taught this bird to be a first-rate jerk!
When it comes to low and dirty tricks no other bird can match it;
She lays an egg in her neighbor's nest; leaving them to hatch it!
She says she’s far too busy; "I’ve got to follow the herd".
I say that she’s just lazy! You conniving cowardly cowbird!
When her ample hatchling sheds its egg, the bugger's just not fair.
It crowds its nest mates to the ground and eats more than his share!
Sound familiar? I hope to shout! Of all things that annoy . . .
The cowbirds in the office here act out this scornful ploy
By dropping projects on my desk, ill-thought, half-baked at best;
Expecting me to hatch them out and make room in my nest!
Our bosses do this all the time, but I reckon that's their lot,
But what of Slow Joe down the hall? I can’t believe this rot!
He hangs around and wrings his hands, judging my ambition;
Taking potshots while I sweat to bring his work fruition!
The problem with this cowbird gig; the thing that gets my goat
Is that cowbirds get promoted, and I don't get a vote!
This is small of me, I admit; this outrage misdirected.
Cowbirds will always tick me off, at least 'til I'm perfected!
Just one more time
to lay next to you
to feel your love
and know it's true
Arms encircling
the one I so love
To kiss your lips
Like paradise above
To be alive once more
And not in this vegetative state
To feel one last passion
With the one I so adore
But like a wasted stamp
On a letter long unsent
Within words I hoped would show
My love is truely eternal
There is no way I'd go
But somehow,
Like a misdirected letter
Our plans, they ran aground
My dreams so deep, so shattered
To miss the one I'd found
So, in a coma
of numbed pain
I live
and often wonder why
I see now only darkness
Where others see blue sky
I look at your old pictures
Read old letters that you sent
My heart does start to ache
To where and why you went
Where you are, I often wonder
And cry myself to sleep
I only hope you realize
Just how my love was deep
I hope that you are happy
Fulfilled, with all you crave
I'll carry this heavy love
Into my final grave.
If you 2
Like me
Are lead astray by your ever so lively Cock and Ball's
You 2 may find yourself in the dock
If you didn't shout duck
And an errant Cock
Or playful Ball
Strikes you playing partner right in the face
Brace yourself
Those things burn and sting like Duck
And you 2 may be sitting in the Dock
For assault by means of a playful Badminton Shuttlecock
Or misdirected squash ball
If it was indeed
In war, no glory confides absolutely.
Or is resolute in its righteousness.
Its essence holds no certainties nor goal...nor future.
Clear objectives fade... Justification merely a work in progress.
Clandestine agendas drive enmity across air, sea, sand and meadow.
Misdirected.
Towards an enemy, unseen in tradition and culture.
Unknown, but reassuringly dangerous, a hive, confronting and threatening civilisation...
In the name of humanity...
No epic fanfares grill the blood of Hollywood romanticists,
Corrupted stars play out their scenes alone,
Through haunting canons,
And anthems of resounding calibre,
Without script and with most terrifying action.
Out of depth, out of body, into quagmire.
Confusion, comforted only by sterile demands,
Hollow victories,
Fallen...then...
Turmoil.
Lies perpetuate.
Comrades congratulate. Celebrate!
Lending solace to advocate horror, between initiate and tormented alike.
Through the soft, sweet lulls of passive exchange or the emphatic silence of success,
Numbness cradles contemplation.
Enveloping.
A ritual, deep and staring...a piercing, twisting...
Stark realisation!
Past actions, past faces,
Passed lives...
Humanity.
Recoiling...sickening...putrefying...
Wallowing amongst the ranks of brothers and sisters,
Nourishing avarice,
Dwelling in 'diplomatic' palaces and stately hideaways.
Inflating egos and balances from the dividends of limbs and bowel.
The truth gnawing, knowing and growing....
Overwhelming.
Prolapse of mind.
Prizing an unworthy soul...only to abandon.
As ashen storm clouds brew above his head,
his furrowed brow denotes catastrophe.
The lash of his tongue like fire brings such dread
a broken heart is all she can foresee.
Heated anger joins the howl on winds misled,
a wild child of tantrum's misdirected decree,
his glacial heart disperses rocky scree.
As ashen storm clouds brew above his head.
Mother melts beneath his glare, few tears shed
for him to see, her child she's failed by degree.
Oh, all the signs of madness she'd misread,
his furrowed brow denotes catastrophe.
His wrath unleashed, now gone his kinder creed
though she still sees his arms widespread,
perhaps, a mother's love can intercede?
The lash of his tongue like fire brings such dread.
Unless his anger's dampened it may spread
destroying the bonds of sweet felicity,
if she can not hold on to love's thread
a broken heart is all she can foresee.
Son can't you see the sun high overhead
upon his cheek a tears falls silently,
with her arms outstretched his mother plead
and on her shoulder he rested sullenly,
as ashen storm clouds brew.
LIFE’S COMMODITIES ©
Nails and screws ‘mate’ together
But nails puncture tires when misdirected
Another’s love loss is another’s gain
Love bites break hearts into little pieces
Commodities here today, gone tomorrow
Replaceable parts are ‘outnumbered’ one to none
Do or die in the here/after--- ‘suicide’
Life will rot to its very core
Thrown aside ‘punted’ fore-ever more
Rebirthed and planted it will grow big
And perhaps will be saved for another year’s commodity.
KEEPSAKES ©
Fishwife’s tales
Poppy dog tails
Fairies in storied ‘lore’
Fly and gad about no more
Lengths of twine saved thrice
Wrap on today’s keepsakes!
Treasures are memories held
In minds, hearts and pretty boxes
Brought out to remind once again
Keepsakes of puppy dog tails and fairy lore.
In streets of struggle, where poverty reigns
A youthful cry, with futures in chains
Limited options, and resources scarce
Leads to desperation, and a troubled stance
Low-income homes, with stress and strife
Parental struggles, and a child's lost life
Unmet needs, and unfulfilled dreams
Fuel the fire, of juvenile schemes
Education's key, but doors are locked
Opportunities scarce, and futures blocked
Jobless parents, with no way to provide
Leave children vulnerable to the streets' tide
Neighborhoods plagued, by crime and fear
Youthful energy, misdirected here
Gangs and violence, a deadly allure
A false sense of belonging, in a world obscure
Socio-economic chains, that bind and sway
Influence choices, in a troubled way
Delinquency rises, as hopes decay
A cycle of strife, in a world gone gray
Break the chains, and lift the veil
Provide opportunities, and education's sail
Empower families, and communities too
To give youth a chance, to make a brighter hue.
ALONE IN WORDS
I cower from the rumbling squall of loneliness
and shrink from the shards of misdirected words.
The mantle of hope escapes my ambitions, forever silencing my courage.
I am drowning in discontent.
From Brainstorm 10/16/2018
For Divisa 4 Poetry Contest
02/25/2021
what if every life
was part of a life lived
not just re-encarnation
but something from every life gived
what if we were all Jews
priest of God something God used
once enslaved and often abused
what if one of our souls
were once a Jew
what if we were a child abused
with no chance of living
and painfully misused
to leave this earth
without hope and confused
what if this soul
was a soul God used
what if we were slaves
with a nation to build
plantations and pyramides
or else be killed
what if our lot was part of this plot
and our soul given
to the life of locks
what if our soul was given to war
not to die but relive the horror
not only to kill but have friends killed
to return home disfigured dishonored
and still
to love your country
and your country that love kill
and live with the regret that
your lifes blood was not spilled
what if your life was of a man misused
or even that of a wife abused
with one individual
the cause of your hell
year after year under their spell
no one to hear the screams you yelled
until that day you finally fell
what if you spent your life searching for God.
but you can't see him and to you it's odd.
everyone seems to have a piece of this dream
but to you no shread of evidence was ever seen
hopes die as loved ones go
dispared of life that has no soul
to what purpose was this wicked goal
to give you life without a soul
what if you have a destiny
purposed by God
and what if death be our end
as God gives the nod
then destiny arrives as death resurected
destroying the lies and misdirected
supplying the hope and condeming the greed
waste is our possesion
when we have more than we need
this is the vision that destiny see's
the happiness of heaven
and not earthly greed
what if every life addressed a cause
a time for action no time for pause
what if we knew of every kind of pain
what could we better if we had this gain
an end to all suffering that has a name
an end to all the guilty that play
evil games
AFRICAN WOMAN
Who are you, African woman?
What’s your identity?
What do you stand for??
Black is beauty they say but the beauty lies in our core values and virtues.
Look at the African child groomed and nourished with the fresh milk from the breast of an African woman.
Oh, African woman!!! Hardworking and courageous to face the future and all hardships.
Who are you, African woman?
See how she perfects
A quiet evening with graceful dance steps; shaking her waist and chanting melodies in her mother’s tongue as it goes; Omo bibi Rewa (childbirth is beautiful)
Omo ni Ibukun Olodumare (a child is a blessing from God)
Wake up from slumber African woman.
Replace the farms with Offices
Replace the limitation of staying home with Businesses
We have risen way beyond mediocrity,
Our mothers were creative and industrious;
making beads, shoes, and clothes from animal skin. Isn't that creative enough?
Wake up!!! Again Wake up!!!
You have been energized by your favorite and delicious food combination. Ain’t you proud of who you are African woman?
You are a conqueror and can do beyond the ordinary. Take your place and write your own story of the African woman. Make your voice heard
Our virtues are gradually been taken away from us. What is left behind for our children African women? So whose ideas are we representing when we stand up for those values which aren’t ours?
Who are you, African woman???
Remember you can’t lose your identity, Let’s deal with the truth.
We are part of our communities and must be involved in decision-making. We have to actively participate in our civil society
We need to start from the roots and not branches. We need to go back to what our mothers left behind; tracing back our steps, Our color “Black” is a symbol of redemption. Let us arise from misdirected pursuits and be focused on the goals to be achieved, AFRICAN WOMEN.
I’m an African woman
Here as I wander through this vast and sometimes unsympathetic world, with those who claim to be more civilized than they that walk with their backs to the sun…yet they fight amongst each other and reek havoc and rage war and shed each others blood over trivial matters like the color of each others skin or the way in which you should worship our God! They don’t even love each other as they should as the word of God so commanded them to do! They even rage war inside their own homes…sons against their fathers, they are each filled with hate and malice towards each other...for a status of dominations, which matters not in death but only to the here and now, which passes like the speed of light. They are vain and self absorbed inside of a world in which they have each created with delusions of grandeur and deceit. No true love for each other yet they claim to be supreme beings above all others? Animals don’t kill just for the thrill or just because they can, they do it only to survive and because sometimes they are in fear. But we do it out of self satisfaction or just because we can…take heed my brothers and sisters all is not good and what appears to be good is not, for it is far more important to love and submit to each and other than to stand as sole king or queen on hill were no one else lives or comes…somehow our good intent to become more better than the animals has turned into some type of misdirection on why we are really here? Love can't be misdirected, it can only be not given or received.