Best Mistaking Poems


Broken perspectives

There is so little space I could give in my skies, 
Every moon has left a whole cluster of clouds full of lies, 
I cannot unclog a product polluted in disguise, 
Don’t ask me to lay in your web you chose to improvise , 
I have seen too many oceans being mistreated for wastelands, 
So don’t call yourself something that is drowning deep in quicksands, 
When you are surrounded with the wind and all it’s forgiving hands , 
Don’t disrupt my diligence by your Petty demands, 
Don’t even think about interrupting my silence , 
When all I could hear are traits of unforgiven violence , 
When all I did was extend some guidance , 
And all that lacked was to walk in patience , 
So let’s not speak of the truth , 
The truth which you failed to gift , 
To gift wrap in deceptions, 
Deceptions mistaking my kindness for trust , 
Trust lost in your idea of confusion, 
Confusion named as “issues”
Issues engraved in broken perspectives, 
Perspectives from your cycle of imagination .
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Eddy

I try to see 
back before 
to who Eddy once was
just barely before when
the bending began
Eddy was after all
a cute child 
wide eyed
hugging kissing and kind

Somehow horrible happened
It tricked and trapped his mind
Loud shouting screaming sounds
parents preaching pain
through domestic degradation 
careless communication
fraught with frustration
Pass the potatoes please
then spilled milk smacking sensation
belt welts broken eggs no bacon
Get up go clean up
never ever interrupt 
battles brief and abrupt
ranting and raving
mom misbehaving
Eddy helpless and in need of saving
experiencing what no child should be braving
Learning man lessons 
before he started shaving

He can't  depend on dear dad
who pretends perfection
in his ship shape barber shop
where his jolly joking rarely stops
Important friends doctors and cops
humorous happy back slaps
Eddy feels hidden looks and subtle attacks

Shoe shine simple
comic book quick
When the shop closes
Tearful Eddy gets another licking
At two times five even Eddy starts kicking
his hurt turns into fists swinging
runaway day trip escaping
Then away he starts staying
getting into trouble time
not enough praying
rules that need breaking
Who he'll become
there's little mistaking 
what he wants he happily starts taking

He can't shake the mistakes
Travels life fast with worn brakes
Tears turn into lakes
He has and has caused 
many heart breaks
Sometimes past prisons
Are to hard to escape
I think of my daddy 
dear Eddy 
and my soul shakes
Sometimes  time ticks
Other times it just takes!

Inspired by a comment made by John Hamilton after he read my 
poem "between the words of my father".


My Entry for S. Grace's  "Mental Illness Contest."

Premium Member The Greater Reward

He who gives to another
       takes the greater reward
     Give whatever you can
       a poor man a snub can't afford

     Seek opportunities for giving
       They're yours for the taking
     One kindness leads to another
       ~ There's no mistaking
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Sting of Nettled Showers

To the sound of pelting rain, she woke in early morning
Upon the tattered tin roof, it rhythmically pitter pattered
No sunlight peeked through clouds on daylight's dawning
She thought of him and of the dreams that were shattered,
of the nights she'd spend without end, remorse spawning

Windblown rain pummeled windows, on sills it splashed
Obscured was her view, vision blurred behind each pane
Howled as does a wolf, thunder growled, lightning flashed
In rivulets like rain, was weeping she struggled to restrain
Like drops of blood from a wound, her teardrops splashed

That night, in shadowed lamplight she espied on the corner,
a familiar silhouette of one whose countenance was a given
Dark eyes of a raven who had waived his right to scorn her
No vocal cawing was riven as torrents of rain were driven
He was beyond the reach of this sad beseeching mourner

Outside she ventured, into the sting of nettled showers
for just one glimpse of him, she would offer as her reason
On the street, scattered at her feet, her espousal flowers
Fallacy, was an act Charlotte Bronte' would label 'treason'
Uncloaked, soaked, she stood with her memories for hours

From grief she could not hide nor abide her mirrored face
His eyes, for once unveiled, yet not one word did he speak
A webbing of fine silk threads spun, woven in warm embrace
He had raised no hand in farewell. A tear grazed her cheek
Without solace she would linger in portals of empty space

She trembled, shivering, eyes teary, there was no mistaking
her sips from tainted cup had the caustic taste of bitter gall
The impeccant knight chose the right to claim his forsaking
Nimbus skies lay overcast without surcease of a graying pall
Fraught with aching, she sighed one word, "heartbreaking."
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

I Am Fire

"I Am Fire"


                          I am an all consuming one 
                          overpowering any and all!
                             When I am spreading 
                           and you're in my pathway
                          most definitely you will fall!

                          Everyone feels my presence, 
                          nothing can escape my wrath!
                                 Ashes and smoke
                              make everyone choke,
                          for those are my aftermath!

                             My flames, they dance,
                             they writhe, they soar!
                    They command the utmost attention!
                           I am alive, my color is red!
                    I'm beyond anyone's comprehension!

                  I dance and play on the surface of the sun!
                        There is no mistaking my light!
                          All I need is the tiniest spark,
                         I cause fright when I do ignite!

                      When people see me coming to life
                         eyes widen and fear takes over!
                      If I touch anything that's combustible
                          it's mine in time and moreover....

                                They scream, they yell,
                                they cry out my name,
                       my flames laugh with heated desire!
                                I am a mighty, fiery one!
                            I can be the unquenchable fire!!!

                                    Strangely though
                                 I am used to describe
                              many, many things in life!
                      From fiery passions, to flames of love
                             I am the catalyst for strife!

                             WHO AND WHAT CAN STOP ME?
                                           Oh That!!!
                        I've only one fear I can't slaughter!
                                      Take that away!!!
                              Don't bring that near me!!!
                           "DON'T YOU DARE COME NEAR
                                  WITH THAT WATER!!!"



                                   WTA-IV  3/15/2016

Ugly Is Beautiful

The hideous wrinkles and folds 
unmistakingly reveal the damage
that the harsh years had wrought,
all the battles waged and fought, 
won and lost.

I look at her now sunken face, 
beaten and badly weathered,
and there is no mistaking 
a perfect beauty she was
not that many years ago. 

She smiles, a hint of a dimple
peeking through the loose skin, 
faint signs of high cheekbones
desperately wanting to be seen, 
strong jaws chiseled on a face
that must have been stunning
when she was younger. 

Alas, all her enviable perfections
the passage of the years wasted,
disfigured, marred beyond repair 
by the envious hands of time. 

While this ugly observer focuses 
on her now terribly faded image, 
with a smile I sigh without envy, 
listening to a voice whispering: 
the more beauty one possesses, 
the greater is the loss in the end. 

Time, the great equalizer! 
Ugly from birth and ugly till death, 
I can take it all with a hearty laugh 
as there is not much I will give up,
for the years cannot take away
what from the start I never had.

Ah, ugly is much more preferable
and perfectly beautiful after all.


Heart of a Woman

She has strong shoulders and hands,
able to bear any burden
carried by a man
She possesses a firm mind,
a steely resolve that bends
to no Y-chromosome kind
Yet she retains the heart of a woman
My woman is she,
her man is me
The heart of this woman
is the bravest heart
I've ever been blessed to see
She has sturdy hips and feet,
able to move mountains
of entrenched sexist disparity
She keens an unbreakable will
Mistaking her femininity as a weakness
will leave you always fighting her uphill
It's a battle you can't win,
because you already lost
before the conflict even began
She had you pegged right from the start,
a macho bully ... not very smart
Get you unfocused, upend your apple cart
Diminish your ego and you will meekly depart
Did I mention that my woman has the biggest heart
The heart of a woman like her,
can't be dominated by no man
She gives her heart to me freely,
just as I give mine with loving reciprocity
Yes, she has the heart of a woman unchained,
my warrior woman she will always remain
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Dogs Letter To Santa Claws

Dear Santa Claws, for Christmas I’d like a new chew bone; I’ve been a real good dog this year; I don’t even bite the cat, Sheba, when she attacks my head, as I sleep and that’s not easy to do since Sheba has put a lot of holes in my head.  I’d also like some medicine for it.

Please bring me a new bed too, as mine reeks of cat urine; Sheba peed on it 5 times last week, while Mommy and me were at the park.

As far as cats go, Sheba is OK but, I wish she’d stop eating all of my treats.  Please bring her some of her own.  Oh and one of those catnip mice she’s so crazy about, it puts her to sleep for a long time and that’ll give me a chance to play with my own toys, for a change.

Mommy could use a new winter scarf too; Sheba keeps shredding’em with her claws; she really hates anything that has fringe.  It gets really ugly to watch.  It’s a good thing that I’m such a good dog; otherwise I’d bite Sheba in half when she destroys things…(Does she know how lucky she is…I doubt it.)

If it’s not asking too much, can I also get a new bag of jerky treats?  Also one of those neat colored rope bone toys?  I love the way the ends tickle my nose when I play with it.  The one you bought last year; Sheba tore it up, mistaking the stringy ends for Mommy’s scarf fringe.

You can have my last jerky treat when you come, if you want.  That is, if Sheba hasn’t eaten it yet.  You can also have some of my water if you’re thirsty but, please be careful not to, leave your face fur in it.  Last year I almost choked to death on a piece of it.  If you’d like, you can have my last pig ear too.  I know all of that work in one night probably gives you a powerful appetite.  (Sheba hates pig ears so I doubt she’ll mess with it.)  Thanks Santa.
Sincerely,
Butch, The Dog

PS: Be careful flying Santa, there’s some new creature out flying around; his name is “Drone” and he drinks, I think ‘cause he fell last weekend and just missed my head.

Escape Into Reality

ESCAPE INTO REALITY

Escapists---fantasizing about worthless things
Well trained in our worldly ways and feelings
Struggling to visualize our predestined callings
Escapists—fantasizing about worthless things

Reality-- disregarding Eternal majestic dwellings
Pursuing false perspectives and earthly inklings
Mistaking Believers as fake brainwashed beings
Reality—disregarding Eternal majestic dwellings
Form: Monorhyme

Master Painter

"I am sending you a gift of poetry, dear heart."  This one really reached out to me in its simple
  and uncluttered use of a sunrise to show God's handiwork.  I thought that since your work was
  in Haiku,  I would try to do a free verse version relating the thought of God painting His 
  morning canvas.  I hope you are okay with this.




  Inspired by the poem: "Heavenly Sunrise" by Constance~A Rambling Poet~

  For: "I Am Sending You A Gift Of Poetry, Dear Heart" Contest



         Free Verse Poem Written by: Dan Cwiak


   The Master takes his brush to palette~
       Effortlessly is the day's canvas dotted with color.

  
    Golden Horizon swished from the brush~
        Darkened only by the earth tones of morning.


     An Orange Ball creeps o'er the distance~
        Shades of red and yellow stir the burnt umber awake.


     Fine lines drawn for this morning~
         No mistaking the Hand of God at work!

Duty of Being Human

I don't show it, but sometimes,
I slip into the serene sanctuary
of a sound slumber, and I arrive
in dream with feet rooted in 
the peak of a hilltop that
overlooks the masked shadow of 
human nature, and allows me sight
into the depth of a spirit.

It is here, on this brink
of my softest sense,
I rediscover the cycle of
what breathes and lives
And detach my existence
from the restraints of 
a myopic perspective.
Using what crumbles away
of my former perception
as means to remedy the
illness of possessing an ego,
I search.

And, I find truth.

I find truth in the significance
of being insignificant by a closer
comparison to trees, insects, and 
water.
And my head descends in shame
from vice of mistaking 
point of view for purpose.
For the world moves while I
stand frozen on this hilltop,
And these bugs I squash,
trees I ignore, and water I waste
do more for this existence than I.

And of all connections inherited
from birth, I find mine to the
"Unappreciated" teaches lesson
on the tipping scale of life.
It is on this thought, I dwell
until I free my feet by waking.
Waking to a comprehension of
connection that surpasses 
the fallible understandings 
I once clenched as fact.

And through the clarity,
I embrace this humbling fact:

If I am nothing for my lack
of contribution to life while living, 
then, without a moral mind and
kind heart offered to my fellow 
beings,
I do nothing for the greater good
until I die and become sustenance
that lives in the earth.
Should I ignore this truth and
indulge in a selfish survival,
What "good" am I now?

Premium Member The Crown

The Crown
David J Walker

I can sense the advent 
of the harvest to come
	The bees have retreated 
High on the nectar of a successful hunt
Home is the hive 
	Alive with instinct
Survive 
	The colony sings in a low hum 
Of favorite hymn’s sung
To the dead queen

Who can replace her
Among the close cast 
 The vast number of children 
In line for the thrown 
	A King…in the Queen's domain?
I can sense the advent 
	Of the darkness of
Another fall 
Mistaking 
a bitter fruit for freedom
Form: Rhyme

Unlove

I can't unlove because I am 
Impatient, selfish.
I love as if I cannot be hurt.
Going on as if nothing is wrong.
I cannot unlove because I know not how.
I spend my nights awake dreaming of how everything should have been.
The speeches I have amongst myself
Lost in complete darkness.
Accepting the sound of my voice as an I told you so.
Seeking a dream that seems so far away.
I can't unlove because I accept disappointment. 
The contempt of putting others first without fear.
I truly believe I cannot unlove because I am in love.
Young again in thought running wild, free.
I consider it a perk.
Being the only other person I know how to be.
No longer embarrassed of facing the opposite end of the mirror.
Finding that the most important things bring the most smiles.
I am far from perfect
But I cannot unlove as if I made some sort of mistake.
Purposely mistaking myself as a fool

Another Rubber Tree Plant

across the endless
desert pavement
six feet dance a
rapid two step

keeping the mirage
alive in mind
that there is
another side

darting and dodging
clouds that darken
and fall to earth
while passing

cracks of quakes
made evading
rush hour
rushing

not mistaking making
a b-line for grassy
trees reaching
the edenic

opposite of the other
now to stop and
gasp grasping
knowing now

an ant 
recants the
heroic crossing
of a sidewalk in summer
Form:

Who Are You

How dare you take advantage of me like that ,
Leaving me stranded with no way to go forward or back.
   Using the friendship that we had led me to believe,
That there was trust and honor between you and me .
   How you layed me aside and left me for dead ,
You have caused these hateful thoughts inside my head.
   Never could I have done this to any man , 
I can see you have no concious so I know you can.
  There just one thing I really want to say  about this ,
It's been a long time since I have made a clinched fist .
  You have no idea how much hurt you have caused,
It won't be me you'll have to face That's up to God
   But you will regret mistaking this kindness for weakness girl,
Bad Karma will surely consume you this is my word.
   Yes you were able to catch me completely off gaurd ,
Never again because now I know who you are .
TAC
Form: Acrostic

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