Best Placating Poems
My mental health is complicated
Now euphoric, next sedated
Nightmares daily duplicated
All my friends are alienated
Happy times? They're confiscated
Mental health is complicated
My mental health is temperamental
One day strong, the next I tremble
Demon thoughts in turn assemble
Scars you see? Not accidental!
Happy/sad so incidental
Mental health is temperamental
My mental health is so unstable
Able battles with Unable
Joy is nothing but a fable
Traumas each a different label
Hide then dance up on the table
Mental health is so unstable
My mental health is oscillating
Praising now, then deprecating
Morbid days turn scintillating
Love now, hate now: aggravating
Soothing words are non-placating
Mental health is oscillating
My mental health is so confusing
Flattering and then accusing
Comforting when not abusing
All my sanity consuming
"End it now" my life pursuing
Mental health is so confusing
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you.
Well, of course,
It was pretty hard when you refused to go to the funeral after my Father died,
And I’d hate for this relationship to end in a lie, so…
The second hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you.
But, to come to think of it,
It was probably harder when I had to give Skippy away.
You know, when you made us move to Florida because you hated the cold,
I’ll never forget that day.
The third hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you.
Well, not quite as hard as it was when I had that little operation,
And you decided still to take your vacation,
And left me alone in the hospital with no visitation.
That was hard.
The fourth hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you.
You know, I did take it pretty hard when I proposed to you
And you said if I couldn’t buy you a bigger ring we’d be through
And I had to sell my car and hock my guitar
To get you a ring as big as a star.
That was pretty hard.
The fifth hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you.
Well darn it, no!
It was hard going to school at nights and working all day
Because you didn’t want to get a job and wanted me to earn more pay.
What exactly did you do with yourself all day!?
The sixth hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you.
No, its time to admit it,
I saw you with Tom that night,
And Bob the time before that,
And Tim and George, Harry and Frank.
That was hard on me and I’ve got you to thank.
The seventh hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you.
Now just wait a minute!
This is not hard.
In fact this is rather easy.
The hard part was living with you,
Placating you,
Pretending to love you,
Pretending that you loved me,
Heck, this is easy!
The easiest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Was to say I’m through with you!
Boy that was easy!
Now I feel much better.
The “forthcoming” backtracks on dilly-dallied whispers.
They place verbal down payments on layaway,
Incomplete soul mates
Running on muted slow dances
Blanketing their pain
“Oh, how I always wished for your lips against my selfless animosity”, said Nobody.
Another decrepit smile
Pandering arrogant Bible verses,
They stroke heartbeats
Made of blood diamond fallacies
Reflecting upon misery with convex eyes,
Companionship denied,
“I’m so glad you stayed”, said Somebody.
Placating vehement touch,
They ache for petulant innocence
To rock them to sleep
Lullabies venture unto unknown certainties,
Lackadaisical clef sharpens ill-fated tomorrows
They make “love” to invisible yesterdays,
Feeding off strenuous caress
Torn, silky dress
Perpetuating restraining orders in duress
Bloodied retinas blink,
Vexed
©Drake J. Eszes
Thousand years! Thousand years it is
Long living like the undying breeze
Deep down my self, deep down my ease
In the thick bark of my heart a love does exist
Thousand years ago
There exist for my mood, a flower that glows
Regulating my heartbeat and blood flow
Raising my guts up and down, in rows
Making my emotions like trumpets blow
Thousand years! Oh so long many years
And I can still feel the pricks of her lovely spear
And the scent of her placating presence, like roses very rare
Oh thousand years, and the love still exist, yes!
I still love you, till forever nonetheless
Harrowing shifts placating Palestinian patients
Awkwardly healing bones, injuries war caused
Comfort we gave seemed severely insufficient
Soul mates meeting among pain, implausible
Crutch hobbling boy with copious haphazard grin
Caught both our hearts, we smuggled him chocolate
You took every free chance to sit and joke with him
Your easy demeanor is medicine, patients responded
Images of rubble sifting shadow-faced citizens
Inescapable magnitude replayed, dream tethered
Impact we made upon fractured limbs and spirits
Told us each smile gained was worthy endeavour
I've speculated our distance pronounced our parallels
A far, foreign land artificially grew our new love found
Strongest logic shows me your benevolence plentiful
Desire stunned us, despite draped shapeless gowns
A year improvising in Gaza's limping hospice system
Threatened to take my buoyancy amongst its tragedy
Compassion you dealt exposed a myriad of wisdom
Guardians of burden bandaged turmoil's inched recovery
Excitement of moving in together, calm logic forgotten
Several short weeks after Gaza, shared goals discussed
A jubilant wedding, white gown without tie backed cotton
Box pile totems, future unpacked together, a time for us
17th August 2020
JCB Burl, Sponsor
Contest, 'A Time For Us'
I'm sorry, is phrase so used today,
In this society.
These words would mean a lot,
more if the actions followed.
Anyone can say them.
Just depending on if they send the
Feelings to follow the words true meaning.
When they are said,
it should be from the mind, heart and soul.
Not just by a simple breath,
To fall on most ears that are deaf
Or even to be said,
To get control of a person.
Sooner or later,
It is all the same,
As placating and complicating a simple situation.
It's easy to set the goal, and even put the process in motion, but continuing to push forward through struggles and frustration can require a shove to help draw out that emotional leverage. ~ Leigh Wilson
Emotional happiness is a goal everyone would like to reach
but attaining that destination is not something anyone can teach.
The use of leverage is a viable solution to ignite the flames of fire,
ones to use as sparks to light the way to have the life we desire
There are several emotional concepts that I label after reflection
that can motivate us and others to live life without objection
Pride is usually thought of as a trait for which we shouldn't strive
but it can also prove to be a useful tool that can keep hope alive
for it can take a look at goals that were achieved or things done right.
A point worth making; it opens a window giving slivers of foresight
Joy is an emotion everyone feels when a goal is accomplished
Any lever can be used to amplify an advantage that can be wished
Something as simple as talking with others can make joy a reality
It's a resource to change a behavior or attitude; not a hyperbole
Hope allows us to have expectations of a life that we find fulfilling
But life often pushes back with frustrations that could use distilling
That's when we pivot, as a lever to make struggles less intimidating
By facing problems head on, seeking solutions, instead of placating
The fear factor dwells inside everyone when feeling uncertainty
or an immediate threat, but it can be levered with a bit of diversity,
a change in some areas of our lives where we experience less stress
The more advantages we can obtain, we'll feel threats much less
Anger is perhaps the biggest obstacle to having emotional well-being
but used as a leverage, it can be used as a key that allows the freeing
from threats that we experience, disrupting our sense of independency,
enabling us to feel self-compassion and toward others with clemency
Then there is the prospect of shame, used to encourage and persuade
ourselves and others to avoid an action or a decision, wrongly made
when we, or others might find out about a socially undesirable action.
Leveraging devices give gentle shoves that lead to emotional satisfaction.
Apologising all the time is often an after-effect of trauma; a self-preservation technique survivors may think they still need to utilise in order to protect themselves.
Everyone is healing from something. Let's try to be kind to one another.
Blessings.
I'm sorry
By Michelle Morris
11/12/2022
"I'm sorry" is something people often say
Whether they are really sorry or not
But once in a while you'll meet someone
Who says "I'm sorry" an awful lot
You might think them stupid
You might think them lame
You might think they're silly
Or that they're playing some game
But, if you do some research
Or if you choose to care
You might realise they've been abused
Deeply and irrevocably for years
Their childhood trauma lingers
Their abuse from too many years
Their spouse played on their feelings
And gaslit them with emotional fears
They are genuinely sorry
They really don't mean to keep saying it
They're so used to placating abusers
That it becomes second nature
So, if you meet a sweet person
Who says "I'm sorry" all the time
Please try to be patient and gentle
Consider compassion and being nice
© Michelle Morris, 2022
For an hour of your time
I could write a poem
Remembered
for two lifetimes
The simplest touch
altering generational
I told you so's
Placating troubled minds
introducing you to the tip
of what you were meant
to do
Becoming
fully aware
of favorite lines
to the point of choking
while maintaining air
Questioning how far
wisdom goes
Secretly, desiring to remain
unaware
you won't mind lending
me your mind
for more time
allowing my fingers
to become
entwined in
your gyrus
you'll respond to my Mrs.
in sixty seconds or less
Now, tell me how you really feel
we've got 59 left.
Pleasantly pleasing providing peaceable
placating pacifists
a Happy New Year.
What are you doing with me God?
What are you doing with me Earth?
What is your plan?
I've always thought this suffering
To be a blessing that in time
Will reveal itself to me
And I will be the better for it.
Have I not wanted?
Have I not spent each night
Dreaming the same dream.
Is it a dream?
Or am I sleep walking through life,
A zombie of the penitentiary... this life.
Have I not offered sorrow for this dark hour?
Not offered myself up as bait to this,
Impenetrable mouth?
Have I not been the callus one for you?
Speaking one phrase and letting it
Govern me,
Each syllable
Deepening it and breathing it
Into my bosom.
For what cause?
For what purpose?
What unearthly shores beckoning me?
I have not the answers.
Though I know not,
How is it this seemingly homesickness
Dwells within me
As though I have once known it
Called it out by name,
Reached for it with generous fingers,
And it has left me now?
Left me,
Leaving me to wait for it
To come and take me
And make me it's own.
Do not the trees whisper their secrets to me?
Do they not seek me out in the night,
Placating me in reverie
And leaving me unto morning
With utter unrememberment blue.
"Je ne sais pas.
Je ne sais plus.
Je suis perdu."
Form:
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
Once captivated by your light that shined bright
Smooth sailing seas, but I now resemble a shark
Your presence in times of sorrow, once a delight
Again I move through the cold, this is my plight
A weary werewolf under dark moon, not a lark
Once captivated by your light that shined bright
Freezing wind blowing I move from left to right
The bitter bite foreshadowed by a familiar bark
Your presence in times of sorrow, once a delight
Confusion sets in and now, insanity with insight
This thing threatens, but I’m obligated to hark
Once captivated by your light that shined bright
Weak in soul, but my mind feels a strange might
The pleasant placating voice has to now embark
Your presence in times of sorrow, once a delight
If it’s a phase, I promise it is not done from spite
This clever close alliterated, a remaining remark
Once captivated by your light that shined bright
Your presence in times of sorrow, once a delight
Crisp cool chardonnay drenches their lips,
it's flavour running rivulets over their tongues
eyes widen over the candlelit table,
and he thinks about giving her sons
Rich sticky risotto slowly prised from bowls
mouthfuls devoured in anticipation
he wipes his mouth with emphasised lust
and she thinks about sensual elation
Chargrilled sardines stare eyes from their plates
she plucks them away, eats them whole one by one
his leg quivers tremulously under the table
her sweetness burning like african suns
Creamy crem brulee drips from their spoons
slips down their throats, placating their hunger
he presses his appetite firmly to hers
her thighs draw him in to taste erotic thunder
AHHH MAN…..
Can’t be tough anymore
…gotta be soft and cuddly
……..but not afraid of spiders or mice.
Can’t talk loud anymore
…you’ll be called angry, or intimidating
……..thus making you a bully.
Can’t strive to be the best
……must be cognizant of the self esteem of others
…………while placating the PC police.
Must know how to jiggle toilet bowl handle
…..after reattaching chain fished from tank
……….SUPERVISED HAND WASHING A REQUIREMENT
Must know how to sort laundry
….NO COLORS in with the whites
……….pink sox and undies are a NO-NO.
Must learn to be a SILENT shoulder
…..to cry on --- to lean on
……….knowing that you can’t fix it.
Will need to access a feminine side
…..change a diaper -- wash a dish
……….hold a “bag” in plain sight.
Will need the strength of ten
….to contain the love you feel
…..and more – to hold the love you receive.
Must be sure enough in you own sexuality
…..to allow a granddaughter to put bows in your hair
………while you’ve still got some left.
Must be MAN enough to be a MAN
…..to love without fear yet with conviction
……….to accept same –- without betrayal.
John G. Lawless
7/16/2015
submitted to – Men Only #2 – Poetry contest
sponsor – Kelly Deschler