Best Remedial Poems
You will never write me.
You will never call.
You will never inquire about my day.
You will believe my heart will never fall.
Your words will be made
Of incendiary copiers
Of toddler’s glue
To tell hundreds of others
How unique
They never were
Without online reminders,
I will be another passing celebration.
Another misunderstood gasp of amnesia
Reaching out with curdled arms
Amongst plucked yesterdays
Where were you in the weeks of our passing lull?
Did you crawl towards remedial rest stop
As you pleasured tomorrow’s misguided wish
Because
It was never guaranteed
But, you knew that.
Just like admiration,
Yet, never expecting its counterpart
To be awoken from fantasy’s French kiss
I hold the bliss of hopeful awakenings
From this familiar rooftop
That you will know what it really means
What it really means
To become what you have forgotten
A solicited facade of bonded breaths
Ready to fall
©Drake J. Eszes
*Sung to the tune of Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.” Intended to be taken
humorously.
“When are you gonna grow up?
It is in jail you will land
You’ll have to stay after class
And I’ll be talking to your old man”
“You know you can’t hold me forever
The last school bus is now due
You can’t rap my knuckles with your ruler now
Stand in my way and I’ll just run through
So nah, nah, nah…
“So goodbye, St. Joseph’s School
Where the ‘Sisters of Mercy’ were cruel
The Catholic school’s finally closing
The lunchroom’s stopped serving gruel
“I’m taking that bus, might never get off
Don’t want to face my Dad’s wrath
Oh, I’ve finally decided to free myself
And set out on my own path
So nah, nah, nah…”
“How can you earn a living?
You can’t even spell your name
You’ll be required to take some remedial courses
And stop playing silly head games”
“Maybe you’ll get a new convent
I hear there’s some room in Brazil
Students there might appreciate
A no-nonsense sister with a voice shrill
So nah, nah, nah…
“So goodbye, St. Joseph’s School
Where the ‘Sisters of Mercy’ were crude
The altar boys have been set free
The priests are no longer lewd
“I’d like to stay, watch them raze it
The site with torture imposed
Where skeletons still hide in the closets
Nevermore to be exposed
So nah, nah, nah…”
*For John Heck’s “Dear John” contest.
Those of us who attended St. Joseph’s just learned the school is being closed.
Although a good education was provided, some students were beaten there repeatedly.
I feel a good education was provided, but they went overboard with discipline.
I challenge you to a rhetorical
to prove me wrong else be unconventional
‘bout a problem that’s gone systematical
everyone’s so radical and cynical
once burnt all swear to now be rational
petrified to be poetical and get physical
relationships always problematical
they start off superficial hardly practical
usually nonsensical and contradictional
end up analytical emotional or psychological
enigmatical fanatical or plain lethargical
sometimes as wild as satanical
yet sure enough it’s almost typical
it’s really absurdly comical
the inevitable becomes the eventual
you go and fall and it’s unconditional
starts off all angelical and sensational
turns out illogical and territorial
often becomes tyrannical
immoral and unethical
then cryptical and diabolical
there has to be something remedial
it’s just too tragical
how we now prefer to be online virtual
we might as well be asexual
because there’s no sense being sensual
we’re all too freak’n skeptical
to believe in the magical and supernatural
do you have a comeback what’s in your arsenal
or are you just too visceral
or too darn busy being metaphysical
AP: 2nd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted ton March 5, 2018 for contest QUICK FIRE RAPID RHYME sponsored by BRENDA CHIRI - RANKED 4TH
His hand reached out to mine, open,
Holding it, I smiled, our eyes danced with understanding,
Form and blush outlined his expectations,
But I could see that there may be fear inside.
Mary restated their predicament,
That the child was born out with the marriage bond,
And that people were swaying to the opposite side,
And course dialogue, laughter and spitting were norm.
So I asked the two for their thoughts and predictions,
About the child, if he perhaps could be like, special?
And they specified that he would cure, heal and exorcise,
And also promised that they’d talk to him about the poor.
Could this baby be the messiah?
I pondered and hoped in their certainty;
Was this the predicted son of god?
He would be free from aggressive victimisation,
If we could just name him as god's son.
So I suggested to his parents,
That if the wise men came with a quest,
To accept the name Jesus Christ,
And certify the census, no less.
Freedom for some is in lying,
When there’s no possible alternatives,
But I believe Joseph never lied,
In the population census of Bethlehem,
That just so happened to pass by.
The child would have been suppressed by all,
Assumed to be dirty and unclean,
Not for chat or dialogue,
And certainly not for work in a trade of his call,
Or for work in any trade for that matter.
Nothing would ever have been done,
The poor would never have been healed,
Or not so quickly for sure in history;
The government would not have been rifled,
And Christ would not have come.
Treating the poor for health problems,
Would have come through government legislation,
A long time after Christ,
In an austere, aloof manner.
People to people relationships,
Would not have been respected,
If care had been awarded top-down,
By bureaucrats and officials:
As supervisors of the protected.
Society at that time was narrow minded,
Stuck in traditional religion;
There were outcasts, sinners, infectious people,
And assumptions were remedial and red:
There were no special people,
No exceptions to the rule,
Only one place for the messiah confided.
One baby matters to me,
A life should be saved at any cost and risk,
Because the abilities you show when young,
Shouldn’t be muffled or labeled regressive,
But nurtured in acceptance and love.
NOTE: This Poem is dedicated
To all those mother and fathers
Who have lost
Their dear little ones
In he recent US killing.
Ravindra
A Poem for US Citizens & Politicians
No words can console
The grief stricken hearts of those parents
And of your people
Who have lost
The pieces of their hearts in the killing.
No remedial measures
Can restore those lovely words
Which used to pour honey
In the ears of their loving mother and father.
When they were live
The smiles of these ill fated children
Used to fill the hearts of their parents
With strength, kindness and love
And faith in God.
Now since these angels
Are no longer alive
O’ Almighty God
Kindly strengthen their shaken hearts
O' God
As they have lost
The most valuable part
Of their life, love and happiness
Their dear loving children.
Others can only express their feelings
For the tragedy in which these small children
Have lost their lives
By the merciless insane killers
Who are the outcomes
Of the gun culture only.
Every sensitive heart in world
Would pray with wet eyes
For those sweet little boys and girls,
Who have lost their lives for no sins of their own.
Let the wise politicians and law makers
Poets, writers, Painters and Musicians
Social activists and thinkers
Of America
Taking a lesson from this incident
Should change those laws
Which give birth to such heinous crime makers
And mad law breakers.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 22nd December 2012/b>
LIVING THROUGH LIFE'S CHANGES
I was 10, a wannabe cowboy;
but then I grew up
I was 17, a Socialist I thought
but then I grew up.
When I was 22, marriage called hard upon me,
but I grew up.
When I was 30, Life gave me a son
quickly I grew up.
When I was 36, divorce, marriage;
and with cool composure, I grew up.
What should I say about that sad day at 63
That I grew up? Hardly.
Here I am …married again.
Still showing up still growing up.
Life has taught me that
Nothing remains at age
It’s learning to become
What God wants from us
And its all remedial.
CAK 4-07-2102
Turbulant radient red sky with sheet swirl mashed potato
cloud mush peered lazily through a curious brown
haze of dirty armpit fizz, enlisted somewhere
bewteen a prebeginning solar start dot deposit burst peak
and a futuristic nuclear waste singulsr hand mitten
all in lieu of a sadeyed slowburn glowing tuxedo-still
and looking on with rolled up flannel sleeve gross
passivity. I slurped around the grand gravel
entrance up and down brown round and rocky
pinging and jumping. Wide spaces
grappling with the refuse laden humo motif of
endeless manwomanchildpet pickings. I round the teetering
trough trench like curves unwitnessed to the sight beholding
ever present but none as gigted. Poor mouth
super excrement excuses like duct tape type at the end
of its reality roll---never enough for the final fix.
I watched as multitruck things silently
dispatchingly dispersed and unloaded their
grusome garbage waves on good mother earth.
Battles can leave muscles working as man and time spitspent
slowcuspocus appendages working at top mph
pushing shoving shoveling piling before the light
pace calls it another disgusting dillday.
without the slighest the remorse--my stomach began
to wrenchabit and my eyewells passed be free
me. The gulls some truck lenght away were
spuriously sifting smilingly through the
human wreckings in a last light meal
remedial refrain--as intense as
the dumpers became the dumpees. I angered as
the populace as myself delivered my putrid parlay
and proceded to the mass exit as if it were
OK. The quality of messy mercy stops at the buck. I need not squander the dull likings of my kind
of indifferenleunce on the hapless mis constraints of
a well informed psuedo citizenery. I hope the land rebels
someday and eats us all by the very
seeds we so sow. Garbage is as garbage does
but it's the tidy attitude of human complacency that
wipes my ass so clean---look to the trash cans for---hope.
Drifting through the millennium
to a world
of surprises and delight
You think about
what the future beholds
beyond the remedial
circumstances driven by
perseverance, thoughts
scholastically superimposed
upon realities drudgery
when you understand
it's all whimsy
upheld by rules, laws
etched into meanderings
circulating the realm
beyond your wildest imagination
you drift through
turmoils of preponderance
into a life
of no regrets
or misunderstandings
just wishing you
hadn't done
some things.
No success is won
without a good attitude dedicate.
when constant doubts come
Negative actions demonstrate
Courage arrives when the waves are high
From the crown that would gain renown
Success is a star in the anxious eye
Till at last it becomes your very own
Success floats like a friendly boat
Most only worth what they bring
Satisfaction when you strike out
and own the prize others wanted to win
Success can’t always be done
unless you sacrifice some remedial fun
What is fear?
It clutches and binds you;
Its clinch constricts your conscience and gestures.
It degrades and damages you;
Its triumph abolishes your own proficiency to prosper.
It stops and holds you;
Its impeccable knack of holding you still is impassable.
It overcomes and you surrender;
Its will to thwart your approach has you anxious to ensue.
It is burdensome and palpable;
Its load weighs you down and disables your efforts.
It is real and ever present;
Its nearness is felt in your existence as it hides in wait.
It is debilitating;
It is maddening;
It is caustic;
What is fear?
It is controllable and facilitated;
You can clamber over the hindrances it extends you.
It is fallible and erratic;
You can perceive its shifting deeds as it scours for a way.
It is provisional and remedial;
You can tolerate its manifestation or expel it into a void.
It is daunting and probable;
You can be valiant and foretell its vain efforts against you.
It is frail and cognizant;
You can be assured that fear fears itself; it is casually ended.
It is short lived and perpetual;
You can sustain longer than fear, you can evolve as it ruins.
It is ignorance;
It is a curtain;
It is cowardly;
Fear is crushed with the knowledge of the entirety of a state. In these periods of terror we must cast fear in its just position, behind us, and trudge headlong against those who intimidate and threaten the beliefs for which we have battled arduously to safeguard, preserve, and be tolerant of.
Fear is…
Not an option today!
Under divinities shadow,
Rests the tree of life.
With aromatic branches,
Dissected by a pocket knife.
Medicinal veins lushly flow,
Carrying remedial cures.
A verdant daze ensues,
As romantic buds allure.
Poetic smoke…recites,
The stanzas of cannabis trees.
As healthy lungs exclaim,
The power of curative leaves.
_______________________
Inspired by a Lucky Lopez!!!
"The ways in which we apply these [empathic] abilities
to controlling the excesses of growth and expansion
[by nurturing multicultural synergetic balance]
over the next century
will be the greatest test
of our evolutionary [democratic Win/Win]
sophistication." D Holmgren, Permaculture, p. 73
Sophistication is not
jingoism
nor tokenism
nor nationalism
nor sexism.
Democratic evolutionary sophistication
requires developing holistic integrity,
invites and nurtures polypathic
health of interdependent pleasure
and wealth of intersectoral compassion.
Until our League of Women Voters
becomes a Legion of EcoFeminist Speakers and Listeners,
leaders and co-operative
co-invested followers.
Until our democratic national party
becomes an everyday
InterNational InterDependent PolyCultural Health Party.
Until our republican nationalistic party
becomes a cooperatively-managed
EcoTherapeutic Wealth Development Project.
Until each educational and religious system
becomes a polyamorous paradise
for mentoring Restorative Peace,
a remedial safe space
for battered and neglected
abused and exploited
miseducated and disempowered
Republican girls and women.
Until each Town Meeting
becomes a bipartisan win/win part
of EarthMother's CoPassionate Discernment Network.
Until each political campaign
becomes a NonViolent Communication progression
reinforcing our EcoPolitical CoOperative Health Trust
of and for Earth's Peace Wealth.
Until Type A caste supremacist planning
to extend competing Win v Lose Yang
reweaves equivalently
with processing Type B
nurturing Win/Win
caste-abolishing Yin.
Until Left deductive dominance
panentheistically religions again
with Right inductive
mind-passion/body-pleasure.
Until masculine strength with endurance
also means feminist flow with nurturance
through mutual Left/Right bicameral
cooperativity.
Until day
becomes not so much nightmare.
Until "unsophisticated women"
becomes an oxymoron,
a population of zero,
empty vacuous imaaginary population
now singing more resonant harmonies
dancing more resilient memories.
Genuine LOVE has a remedial effect if it is welcomed in by its acquaintances. A true medicinal gift in itself that has an ability to cure the most coveted of hearts. Whats sad about this world is that not everyone cares, even if one derives every essence of their being from his/her heart, the receiving end tends to concern themselves toiling with muddled debris and frivolous nonsense. A thriving epidemic drawn out of bewilderment and insensibility, stands alone, cold and naked pending. If only this fool knew that in his paradoxical state of mind he could be adorned with an unwavering and irrefutable antidote labeled number 9. A vulnerable state worth giving into to save the life of another, yours and mine. ~Sealion
Greatest magicians
Came from America been here since it's exitence
All they did was paint a picture with everything good put in our vision
Like Obama poll position
Saying this makes up from when you hung dead on poles from lynches
Did a spell that made us believe we grab change and clinched
Filthy with hatred so we cleansed it
That's the general consensus
This hocuspocus
Like a black man as potus
Is posted
In our brain putting us out of focus
Pullin the rabbit out of a hat
While they pull a trigger in a black mans back
Innocent at that
Already contained
And it clear to see in the video frame
That wasn't your tazor committn a remedial slain
And justice system still isn't sane
So how much have we changed
How crooked is the frame
Still the same ammount below the poverty line
Go there you'll probably find
Out that it's drug infected
Same thing you'll find on a college campus but yet we the ones arrested
Dejected
Made to believe we're far from precious
Success is a game we are unworthy contestants
We're still ethicly bias
Change has come you'll be fool buy it
Pick a card any card
While they pick a nigga any nigga to incarserate
Now you can legally discriminate
As we know history indicates
He'll end back behind bars or carted away
Painting canvases with blood and street with white chalk image in a
childs mind will stay
Lindsay lohan and Lebron dominate the press
Obama mentioning lebrons new address
But the Oscar Grant verdict has yet to be addressed
Wave the wand it's oblivious
We've been deluded
Yea we have made improvements
But there's millions of colors in prisons but a few thousand in a
college instituition
Why are so many minorites locked up
I bet if you took half that number
Aganist Half the country that's dumber
To vote Bush back in in 2004
And add the others in poverty put through this astonishing horror
We may be out this meaningless war
If you think this country has reconstructed
Magic you've been struck with
I am bound for home,
A little after midnight
After an earthly nightly owl,
Over wines, songs and dances
The wee hours till we adjourned.
While driving in a wooded area
When a sudden downpour
With a big thunder climaxed me around
With total darkness and a blackout prevailed
Then, my car slowed to a stop
And stranded in the middle of nowhere
Oh, I have an empty fuel, my goodness!
This very untimely and unfortunate
Opportune misgiving on my part!
Thinking of some of my remedial intuitions
My cell phone is dead!
At last, a car light at my back
Perhaps a law enforcer
Or, maybe somebody came to a rescue
A loud knock at my left window
Pointing my flashlight where the knock came
I saw a… lady in a white gown smiling at me!!
Dalila Agtani 4/26/12
Entered in a contest:
Sponsor Gail Doyle
Contest Name: Stranded