Best Regressing Poems
Years slip by
and the world continues to turn
changing and progressing
or regressing.
Retrograde evolving
skipping thru history lessons
to venture forth
bold and fool hearty.
Looking backward
visionaries see'
what happened but was never
meant to be.
Prophets, sages and psychics
sense the madness
as it dances
brazen on the horizon.
Peace and war
are now merely words
to allow love and hate
to rise and fall.
Separation of rich and poor
stretch wide the gaps
of haves and have nots
to forever be unsatisfied.
History rewinds
pushes play and repeats
until one day
we are all
out of time.
My soul is dark
Blackened by my misery-self pity
I feel depressed
What does that mean?
At 30 years of age, I have learnt so much
Yet,accomplished nothing
My life is stationery, maybe regressing
But no forward movement
Progress?
Achievement?
Goals?
Words I so carelessly abuse
But never apply
I, my own worst instrument of destruction
I am fearful of what I can become
Turmoiled by what I know but so often lack
I, so ambitious, contribute so little
To my life, my dreams, my existence
I, who give so much and expect even more
From those who give even less
I am surrounded by negative souls
Bodies that hold me back from reality
Boredom rules and empty promises govern
I am What? Who?
Where am I going?
What is my plan?
I am alone, so alone
Lost....
Again, I feel depressed.
THE NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS
This year I will Not!
I won’t shed tears no more
Over spilt, spoilt and splattered milk
Trying to win you back
All those years wasted
On a painful, mind numbing love
This year I will Not!
Pray foul prayers for you
Begging, bribing and beseeching
Hoping you will drop dead
In the arms of them ladies
That steal you away from me.
This year I will Not!
Stay awake many hours
Recanting, regretting and regressing
Why, oh! Why me!
Trying to retrace my steps
A hopeless life, a wasted soul
This year I will Not!
Try to hide all these scars
Scratching, slapping even slicing
Recreating my torn skin
Behind the facade of make-up
Make overs and make believe.
This year I will Not!
‘Cause you my dear are no more
Your death, deceasement and departure
Is my sudden re-awakening
Here in the silence of my cell
Fifteen years for manslaughter.
As humans we are starting to regress.
Technology moves forward, but we move less.
What we expect is unrealistic.
Our culture revolves around being materialistic.
Some of our past advances were great.
But we are now playing with the balance of our fate.
We have mapped our bodies and DNA.
Now the laws of nature we don't obey.
Plans for a super soldier is already in motion.
They are taking out the gene that gives people emotion.
From early on we are taught that money is everything.
And anything you want money can surely bring.
Our overall society was better before the Industrial Revolution.
Some don't see it that way, but what we are doing, is not evolution.
We constantly find ourselves regretting
These tainted situations we invest in
Regressing
Our walk toward perfection
So my reflection
Cast shadows in different directions
Daily were expecting
Unearned blessings
bottled up feelings
longing for confession
Shoulder width stretching
The weight of unanswered questions
So this is something like my dedication
To uniqueness in a flawed presentation
Seein as a perpetual flawless score
Leaves nothing for the ambitious to strive for
Would michaelangelo be adored
if his canvas never left the floor
They say keep fighting
All these wrongs that I've been righting
What's left, left in these writings
In the dark looking for lighting
They say keep fighting
A war which there's no winning
The boundaries are only thinning
I was love in the beginning
They say keep fighting
I don't feel!
Like a paraplegic
I fed my love to bulimics
It hardened me, made me strategic
But I say keep loving
Not everyone will be deserving
Paradoxical when you're hurting
But even seeds grow after buried.
I say keep loving
I know it's a haystack but be a needle
Love of self and another's equal
Hurt people just hurt people
So we need to keep living
I put a halo on you like a blessing
Sentenced myself from the lesson
Forgot love and was regressing.
No! I need to keep loving!
My wall encloses my enemy
Avoiding pain is what kills me
My account of death resurrects me
To love is to start living
We idolize Netflix and chilling
We say "Eff love" and it's soul killing
Because we’re love but we stopped giving
To live is to start loving
The 70's brought a wake-up call, embracing some needed change.
Some women with unwanted pregnancies were self-mutilating, so insane.
It seems we are now regressing like a patient who's demented.
Why would a women's right to choose now be legally circumvented?
Too many women lost their lives in a blood bath so obscene.
Botched coat hanger abortions and
other unsafe means.
Do you hear their voices?
Can you count their screams?
We have learned nothing, or so it seems.
Too many women's lives ended tragically.
Where are their death statistics?
Are we too blind to see?
God help a nation that forgets it's own history.
A shattered piece of heart was left
Five thousand miles away.
Skin into skin dissolving,
Lip into lip compressing,
Breath into breath embracing,
Word into word caressing,
Thought into thought regressing,
Pain from another pain depressing
The lonely being craving nearness
From the other.
What is a cake without the sweetness?
What is a sheet without the words?
What is eternity compared to
The second of pure love?
Nothing.
PART 1-- VINCENT DIED JULY 29
VINCENT VAN GOGH
Oh Vincent, too soon you said goodbye
Each time your love rejected, emotions set awry
Your hand above, the lamps hot flame
To prove in time, your love won’t wane
Each failure then, became your bane
That memory faded, but love, came not again
Your brothers love, the only one
Throughout your life, you counted on
And those few friends, which once were close
Each in their turn, did you dispose
Like those bad seeds “The Sower” threw
Were tossed aside, and never grew
Regressing shades, of grey from white
Lights that flickered, through the night
You became a somber, tortured soul
You tried but could not, find your role
The acceptance, which you hoped to find
With each descent, you lost your mind
On your release, from “Madhouse Garden”
Your senses dulled, your “Sorrow” hardened
You still envisioned, “Flowering Orchards” blooming
Contrasting days, frustrations looming
Shadows formed, in weightless plumes
From the “Old Cemetery Tower” and its tombs
Soon days of joy, your senses rouse
Bringing renovations, to “The Yellow House”
Long travels through, the countryside
Those paintings that, you did with pride
Enormous swings, from “Wheatfield’s In Rain”
To “Wheatfield With Crows”, that caused you pain
The Hard Place…
I’m regressing for a time again
Looking for the rhyme again
A familiar scene, and I’m in between the rock
And the hard place…
I’m wearing smiles to cover the frowns
I’m in despair though I play the role of the clown
Here’s what I mean, I’m in between the rock
And the hard place…
I’m turning my head, can’t bear the sights I see
My tearing eyes all red, and it’s such a blur to me
A collision course,
And in the middle of the road is where I stand
Caught between the rock
And the hard place…
The curtain falls, some traces left still wet.
The past will judge us once again
during our careless courses.
The end is near, the end is far,
as time is regressing among our smiles.
The book is old with pages stuck together,
a history that condemns us to remember.
The end is near, the end is far
like a summit we try to reach
like the hurricane we try to escape.
Our past is ticking its last breaths,
until the night disappears
and a new day arrives.
The moment we won't need the lights anymore,
with prayers loud and hopes liberated,
only the sun will warm our paths
for the new era, the new self to come.
He is there
He is mine
He is caring
He is kind
He is arrogant
He is rude
He is harsh
He is crude
These facts remain
And I am in distain
Because despite the fact that he thinks he reigns
Over all of us
He knows what to say
And when to say it
And unfortunately
I must admit
That I thought he was the best for me
Because admittedly
He would make me smile
Make me laugh
Hold me awhile
While I was obsessing
Our relationship was regressing
Into something it shouldn’t be
And he wasn’t physically hurting me
But emotionally I was a wreck
Because he was like a roller coaster
Up and down side to side
And every day I nearly cried
And when I did it was so much worse
Because he knew it was his fault
And he would be proud of himself
When I would start hurting myself
Because to him it was a sign of control
He had more control over me than of his console
Where he played his stupid games that took up his time
He treated me as if I wasn’t worth a dime.
Dreams do not die with the dreamer
Resisting nonviolently is a powerful weapon
Mission minded people must stay focused
Armies make wars, but people like King make peace
Regressing grievances is very constitutional
Teach the children true American history
Instill in our youth dignity and self respect
Never give up on people nor on their dreams
Love is the key to demolishing bigotry and hate
Untangle yourselves from the bondage of ignorance
Touch others and feel the pulse beat of their pain
Heaven opens to those knocking with hands of love
Evil is never a match against the good and the Godly
Revolutions of good are born out of intolerance for evil
Kingdoms of nightmares fade when the people dream
Independence of nations strive when its people are United
Names like Adolf go unclaimed, but the name Martin remains
God blesses the nation whose God is The Lord. 91719PoSoup
When cacophony drizzles through razored defence
and silica devolves to radical flight;
regressing reflections, remembered absence,
with no passion for self inflicted contrite.
When each subtle arc shrouds the ragged offence
like a lovers hand when it becomes to tight,
and the ladder we ascend always goes down,
deep in the shallows, abstract visions we drown
of realities war; what we think we see,
when six cruelly curdles to manufacture eight,
we dash china valleys with ejected scree
before layers of failure can procreate,
and like the sculptor we struggle to set free
the beauty that hides below imagined weight.
No matter the mirror; calculated lies,
our best is when we cover our eyes.
I
Eyes aglaze in the morning rush,
suspended in thought, I stare
through the window of the car,
Adrift in this diffused glare
of the green traffic light,
I am too absorbed to go through.
I have scaled life's stair to this rung
where my mother stopped, doubting
she could continue on,
Collapsing right there in a slump,
bent half-over from the fear
of seeing their before her
In the shape of her father on the stairs---
his grim infirm slouch, praying
she would not follow after
To where the ghost of him stood,
starless and fearful even at that height
that he still could not see God.
II
How old was she then when she descended
back down, stumbling
over words she would choke on,
As she spoke of her life, regressing
to the gestures of a child,
spiraling through the years
To where it all started, a girl lost
at the bottom landing, turning
with a face flushed in tears,
"My father", she said, "would sit in a chair
drunken fits of silence
so steep he did not notice me there",
"Standing in that immense air of depression,
where only mother would speak, breaking
the silence like a bird of premonition"
"He thought his life a loss", she said
"alone, and given up, he abandoned
every hope I was the love of".
III
Was it then she bit her tongue
and folding back her limbs, buried
every white flower in her mouth,
Extinguishing actions like words
she withdrew by lantern, alone
to the cavernous echoes of her soul.
Is this is my inheritence, this brooding trait,
this inherent sadness that states
I am sole heir
To my family's flawed heirloom
of depression, passed down
in an ambry of gene.
This shell of a man, host
to its genetic strand,
its rogue chromosome
That looks back from the mirror---
like these hands once thought mine
seeming now to have always been yours.