Best Recrimination Poems
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
I love you, she questioned?
The words, an inquisition,
at least in the early years.
Will you care for me?
Will you be faithful?
I love you? Do you love me?
Could I have done better? Could I be happier?
Have I made a mistake?
Have I made a mistake!
I love you?
I love you! She accused,
no gentle touch, no kiss,
no tenderness,
only allegations.
The words said so many times a day,
I love you, unfounded innuendo,
suspicion in her voice,
recrimination in her eyes.
The pain of that beautiful phrase,
I love you!
I love you, she deluded,
trying to convince herself,
to convince me.
Half hearted and trite,
No emotions exuded, only allusion.
I love you, Forever,
indifferent inscription inside of the ring.
Peck on my cheek,
fading, until it’s whispered no more,
I love …..
03/02/2022
To give unselfishly
Freely, completely
Without reservation
Or restriction
Without limitation
Or inhibition
To give
All you have
To give
And then
Once more
To bare your soul
Without recrimination
To give your heart
Without expectation
To love
Without doubt
Without fear
This is true love
Pure love
A Sacrificial Love.
The shadows from his younger days shake his resolve,
and make a mockery of time 'til time be lost
to moments of bewilderment, ne'er to evolve,
they bounce and bluster errantly, much to his cost.
Shades and silences, outbursts of ungoverned rage,
cruelty breeds rancor, e'en in the meek at heart,
kept and restricted, like a creature in a cage,
no literature for him, gentility or art.
Dissimulation, trickery and guile he plies
as tools to engineer self-preservation,
he tells quaint versions of the truth, and bald-faced lies,
so to avoid the whip and recrimination.
Childhood is the birthplace of hope and mirth
not fear and perturbation for the budding soul,
a testament to love where supplicants may dwell;
not tyranny or willfulness, a wayward goal.
Shun darkness, disillusionment from God's green earth,
cast demons, evil thinkers to the depths of hell!
Last Modified: January 09, 2016 at 07:20 pm
© bickerstaffe - all rights reserved
Author Notes
...the first three verses: abab rhyming
the next two together: abcbac rhyming
a form used frequently by W.H. Auden
In your fears
I am insecure
In your hesitancy
I am left waiting
In your flight
I am alone
In your self doubt
I am inadequate
and in the shadows of your eyes
I find the trails of my mistakes
the recrimination for my selfishness
the evidence of my self-centered mess
In the palpable silence between us
is the weight of all our fears and pain
the distance that keeps us numb
armors our hearts from further pain
Staring across the table in contented silence,
Knowing though our aches are isolated and unvoiced,
the other knows all our voids, the shadows, and broken shards.
Our mutual lonesomeness is the glue of our Love, the binding of broken into One.
He destroyed her
without hesitation
no recrimination
no tears and no hearts breaking
no remorse.
©Danielle White
The shadows from his younger days shake his resolve,
and make a mockery of time 'til time be lost
to moments of bewilderment, ne'er to evolve,
they bounce and bluster errantly, much to his cost.
Shades and silences, outbursts of ungoverned rage,
cruelty breeds rancor, even in the meek at heart,
kept and restricted, like a creature in a cage,
no literature for him, gentility or art.
Dissimulation, trickery and guile he plies
as tools to engineer self-preservation,
he tells quaint versions of the truth, and bald-faced lies,
so to avoid the whip and recrimination.
Childhood is the birthplace of hope and mirth
not fear and perturbation for the budding soul,
a testament to love where supplicants may dwell;
not tyranny or willfulness, a wayward goal.
Shun darkness, disillusion, from God's green earth,
cast demons, evil thinkers to the depths of hell.
After 2 years of recrimination and denunciation, where are the remains of the children buried at the Kamloops Indian Residential School?
Anyone?
I guess you're seeing a flag?
Trouble comes and go,
The range of my eyes captures all black
Walk with me if life is without you alone,
Steal an emblem to save a city,
When we don't know where to go,breastfeed me to experience your nurture,
From west comes deity,
Drilling your motives pings a picture,
Who testifies about how we do it?
The infancy about handling our kisses form texture,
Don't break our dream when firefly jolts in pit,
Like stellar,we end not a plan,
There you see one,specifically you point repeatedly,
I'm ferocious to explain what need to be in steadly,
Stay dumbed,...hinged with haunt,
No more understanding,wrestling over count,
Style leaned against what excels ,
In melted rubber,I'm bonded,
Out from a water,cleaned from irritation,
Freedom chased,lumpy all around station,...
Imaginative compression,
Yellow within colour,
Bright and delineated stiffening what ants throw to us below earth so lower,
The flag is dirty,
The means it ponds me,...leave feeders bin,
Orchestra at top,the recrimination is demeaned,
White snakes climbing the poles at this place,
Miracle deconstruct brace,
Utterly,I'm surveying what goes else where,
I'm far perceiving good with bad,
On the mountain...on the mountain,
We have to go,
Just believing the sharp distinctiveness,
I'm a little eagle on neatness,
Feel right,I speak your mode,
Maybe I wish I'd known,
The night bought you freckles,
Thirty-six minutes passed Three o'clock at dawn,
The moon frowned against pond,
Its brightness killed the strength of everyman,
All the time,pictures come from a volition,
Pretend she does fight under sun,
Friday won't be dismayed,...it's a vision,
Other way needs several elsewhere,
Get yourself into deep air,
Further we might go,we could washed the flag neatly,
It seems wholly what came after a touch of help,
Already,motives are alternated,
Can I adulterate the nip?
It's not problematical as who glib,
But teach me the means of consolidation.
It's an extortion...
...inspired by 'The Traveller' by W.H. Auden
The shadows from his younger days shake his resolve,
and make a mockery of time 'til time be lost
to moments of bewilderment, ne'er to evolve,
they bounce and bluster errantly, much to his cost.
Shades and silences, outbursts of ungoverned rage,
cruelty breeds rancor, e'en in the meek at heart,
kept and restricted, like a creature in a cage,
no literature for him, gentility or art.
Dissimulation, trickery and guile he plies
as tools to engineer his self-preservation,
he tells quaint versions of the truth, and bald-faced lies,
so's to avoid the whip and recrimination.
Childhood should be the nursery of hope and mirth,
not fear and perturbation, for the budding soul,
a testament to love, where supplicants may dwell;
not tyranny or willfulness, a wayward goal,
shun darkness, disillusionment from God's green earth,
cast demons, evildoers to the depths of hell!
re post inspired by theme of Laura contest
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
BRIAN STRAND
Note
syllbic free verse style ,after Elizabeth Daryush
The shadows from his younger days shake his resolve,
and make a mockery of time 'til time be lost
to moments of bewilderment, ne'er to evolve,
they bounce and bluster errantly, much to his cost.
Shades and silences, outbursts of ungoverned rage,
cruelty breeds rancor, e'en in the meek at heart,
kept and restricted, like a creature in a cage,
no literature for him, gentility or art.
Dissimulation, trickery and guile he plies
as tools to engineer his self-preservation,
he tells quaint versions of the truth, and bald-faced lies,
so's to avoid the whip and recrimination.
Childhood should be the nursery of hope and mirth,
not fear and perturbation, for the budding soul,
a testament to love, where supplicants may dwell;
not tyranny or willfulness, a wayward goal,
shun darkness, disillusionment from God's green earth,
cast demons, evildoers to the depths of hell.
When folks are young, they may feel blessed
But I coped with bullies, life felt stressed,
I started eating a lot, food always there
In theory a good thing, in my case a snare,
I ate whole boxes of doughnuts, chocolate cake too
Into my mouth, tasty pastries flew
Ate myself sick, could not disgorge
Then tried to run it off, body in a forge
Got strange symptoms, my extremities cold
Felt fatigue in the morning, I was young, but felt old
When I had a craving, to voraciously eat
In the battle of will, it was always a defeat.
The Hypothalamus is a pea shaped organ in the brain
Supposed to regulate craving, but my mark of Cain
Suppose to regulate reproductive urges too
When that kicked in, shame added to the stew
Not good or bad, food is meant to subsist
but If I went by a bakery, I could not resist
I'd pay for the delicacies, eat them standing there
People looked at me, I pretended not to care
Tried to eat bulk, solve the craving crime
In dark alleys, ate whole watermelons at a time,
If I had to buy something, I'd mail home the change
A life of privilege, led to something so strange.
Food was my master, it controlled me.
But I fasted part time, that's how I broke free.
I quieted down the enemy, now a friend
Got a second wind, a damaged man on the mend.
Got Shock Treatments, and Thorazine,
Helped with the symptoms, stopped snacks, wiped clean.
It wasn't all normal, I needed tricks for control
Trying to conquer what swallowed my soul.
The past can't be changed, but can one break the spell?
Avoid the positive feedback into hell?
You have to be selective, not clear out life's shelf
Discipline is needed for sanity and health
Not much is known about the traps in the mind
I've been in some, hope I left them behind
Should I blame myself, or blame my brain
Can any recrimination wipe out the stain?
When you're down in this life, baddies swoop with glee
Like vultures circling a wounded prey, they came for me.
They latched on, like an octopus in a marsh
I tried to tell my story, but it sounded mad, too harsh.
But it did make me think, as the iron rules kicked in
A harsh lesson learned in a world where mercy runs thin.
I should turn my back on the past, though I should not forget
My new problems are worse, but I freed my mind from the net
“All minds and hearts connected with love and light of universal consciousness, in a flicker free continuum ~ what does life on such a planet look like?”
- Unseeking Seeker
Together as One,
One voice and one song,
One goal they pursue,
This heartedly they do,
A mission to accomplish.
None indulge in recrimination,
Turbulent waters abated,
War is not an option,
None is at loggerheads,
Crime does not lurk around.
Equitable distribution of resources,
All stand on equal footing,
Benevolence is at the helm of affairs,
The strong aid the weak,
The mighty prop the weary.
Fabrics interweaved into one colourful piece,
Cultures integrated and tolerated,
Hands in hands they push against the tide,
The table is set for all,
There’s room for everyone besides.
A world we dream of,
Speculative future we envisage,
Tomorrow’s cities beyond our view,
Their internal architecture, classic and ethereal,
Rays of hope permeate the space.
May 29, 2022,
Unity Consciousness Poetry Contest,
Unseeking Seeker.
Blame hardly ever helps unless it is used to express anger
it does not achieve any more than venting raging frustration
levels the playing field to a point apportioning recrimination
without actually achieving anything but turning on the tap
of seemingly futile emotions seeking for a functional cause
My lover and I were set to move on from Spain back to home
a new abode on the British Isles to work and retire for good
Sitting in a house in Valencia with boxes packed with books
memorabilia trinkets and carpets rolled up for easy transport
we simply waited for one final certificate from the authorities
Nothing fancy just a signature on paper and promised long ago
but nothing had prepared us for the legendary mañana mañana
with months of inaction inaptitude and not a thought for reason
We are working on it they said but no one seemed to care about
how much depended on the form and a long chain of consequences
Now the buyers pulled out and who can blame them as they
patiently waited such a long time and eventually merely gave up
on their dream and by proxy on our venture and own aspirations
Unpacking the moving goods will keep us busy for a short while
to make our house presentable once more and waiting to ensue
Injustice grinds its teeth at feelings and reason that do not conform
fail to find the wise mind to align their disarray and stark confusion
and so we are lost in transition that keeps on lingering for an eternity
while our souls bleed remonstrate on what ifs and other conjunctives
Lashing out at floorboards and ceilings does not deal with the grief
My grandma used to say it is what it is and advised with great caution
that one never knows what it may be good for and advised acceptance
and her problems were bigger than ours with a war raging in Europe
bombs on her head ruins devastation existential fear and an unknown
and we have each other a roof over our heads and food on our table
And yet it is difficult to be grateful when a vision for imminent future
has been shattered so crudely in its unfairness of unnecessary delay
On the bright side candles and scent sticks are unpacked as we pray
17th March 2021