Best Retraction Poems
(Spock)
Captain, sensors indicate a power surge
Resonating through their ship's body
I'm sure I don't have to remind you
They have their own Scotty
(the questioning me)
But where has faith brought us?
As I look around I see
A species not asking any questions
About the infinite possibilities
(the faith-based me)
But that's why it's called faith
Trusting in what you cannot see
All things can be yours
If you will just........ believe....
(the questioning me)
I hear what you're saying
Catchy slogans always dazzle me
But once people think they're right
Then there's only eternal stagnancy
(Spock)
And Captain don't forget our mission
The beauty of opening new doors
To go to those forbidden places
Where no man has gone before
With the sadness of lost friendship
And as I look into my own eyes
The damage of my faith-based fears
Struggling as I say the word, "Fire"
Photons rip through the hull
Of this Enterprise of faith
And the exaggerated look of horror
Spreads across both of our face
And now I consider the wreckage
Of a species void of curiosity
Silently content to be powerless
And stare mindlessly at a TV
And I wonder if all new awareness
Must first go through this stage
As we learn that asking questions
Is not indicative to faith
Captain's Personal Log,
There is a sadness that comes from destroying the part of me that wants
so desperately to believe in something. Yet I have found this faith always
leads to a limitation of consciousness, a stagnancy of awareness that
leads to a retraction of my identity, and ultimately to the most unbearable
unhappiness. But now I wish to stop looking to what others want me to
believe, and to look to myself. No fear of the judgments I was taught as
a child. No fear of abandoning always what someone else always told
me. The thrill of the stars is calling me, and I want to go where no man........
has gone before...........
Less than twenty-four hours after dashing off a poem
explaining why i wanted to die
found me experiencing physical duress vis a vis,
a bowel movement wherein waste unable to expel
from the anus of this guy
which bout with rectal obstruction
found me doubled over with lower abdominal distress
whereby comfort found me unable to lie
down nor sit upright (with back padded with pillows
against the cellar brick wall),
thus severe bloating a bonus well nigh
and managed to muster the means to bare
frigid arctic vortex aire to purchase
the Acme brand Metamucil, which akin to Drano doth ply
thru the excretory tract supposedly loosening the stools,
which optimism (product didst earn claim to fame) generated a sigh
if that expressed intent to cease LivingSocial would try
humph enjoining this lvii year old married male
to cede victory to the grim reaper, who would vie
as winner de jure to this common fellow invoking libretto
ohm resistant understudy waste not want not
allowing, enabling and providing relief,
without successful defecation
despite the oppressive urge to bolster this Uriah
heap of balled up and tuckered out five foot and ten inches of lovely bones
thence mouthing retraction of former thought to cease existing
though a non-bull lever in any power broker qua mankind
relief at long last provided posterior answered prayer
yet, this scrivener scrutinizes his recurring pain in the ass jagged torture
and asks a rhetorical one word question "WHY"?
The aged gypsy woman speaks,
A curses ancient spell, a dark ruins incantation,
From ages long ago,
Beneath the full moons illumination, a single red
Drop of human blood is spilt,
Upon the blossoming wolf bang, turning
It velvet shin to redden crimson.
Cruelties hatred and malice, has created
A beast that travels by night alone, underneath tragedies
Fallen sunrise this emotionally crippled animal
Pleads for mercy’s redemption, but it is the shunned
A banished unwanted thing of hell's domesticated
Breed!
Born with the devils marking, his birth right of the
Demonic plague, justifying torturers agonizing
Punishment making it a serial killer by moonlights
Entrapment!
Accursed is he from father to son, until the final seed
Has been made undone, for only the fresh bite of loves
Promised sacrifice, can release him from this fatal curse!
A whispers echoing, is carried upon the night winds
Screaming breathe, run son of the damned, never linger
Too long in this world of man, seek the sheltering shadows
Live by thy own basic instincts of survival, for nothing
Can save your forsaken soul!
Never to love, or be loved in return, for the claws of
Retraction will be the rippling at the throat of loves
Betrayal!
What a blood baths banquet to be served at your bridal
Celebration, the leavening of the intended served on the
Silver platter of regrets feasting table of remorse, beneath
The blackened chapel of the devil’s own kindred!
Within the castle walls that bleed, in the dungeons
Of sorrows cage, the beast of the fields howls at
The elliptical giant above, for it has killed its own
True love, and relished within the murdering!
As the gypsy's woman’s laughter, heckles at him,
The moonlight streams through his cells prison,
Enough you old hag, I’ve had enough,
Begging the jailer, to end his torment,
The man shape shifter, becomes the night stalker,
One single silver shot is fired, leaving
Nothing behind but smokes illusion,
And a hushed whispering of thankfulness,
Is the reprieve of generations of the unborn!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
GHOST MIRRORS
Ghostly images captured within the prism of reflected light,
Ethereal waves rippling against reality’s framed surface
Of the translucent, as phantom hands press, slamming at
The fragile glass of dualities deadened zone of existence!
A sudden shimmering, in the beguiling mirror of illusions,
As in the icy eerie chill of this frozen man made pool of
Optical delusions, something within shifted and moved!
Disembodiment's outcasts to incisions resistance, cut at
The bitter edge of the graves stone marker, are these
Silhouette shadow beings, trapped within clarities maze
Of solid crystal!
Black sheets haunted, hidden behind the spiritual mirrors
Of religion, encasement's prison of soulless mists, a vaporous
Cage without iron bars, nor steels reinforcement, these are
The lost or damnation's cursed unto the light of salvation!
What skeletal keys can unlock these dimensional doorway,
And just where is the keyhole to fit, this illusionary anomaly?
At the shutters sudden flash, in ethereal creature slides
Across the screen of realities review mirror, a dark
Hauntings presence that alluding the neck eyes detection!
A dead man’s situation lies exposed, by the elemental
Reflection of lights retraction, hidden beneath the graveyards
Bones of the unsolved murder!
Within the winds of the whistling breeze, hear the unruffled
Cries of fates lost children, crying out for justices guiding
Light to save them, from the disembodied hands of their
Tormentors!
Running children of the ethereal night, whom rage in
Vengeance, against the glass prism of shattered light,
Weeping in devastation's despair, for their loss of life eternal!
At the flashing neon point of no return, the devils forsaken
Sake at the tempered glass of realism, clamoring to be
Recognized for once existing!
Within the four squared frame of reality, dwells the
Infinite pool of the ethereal realm, and in its rippling
Waves, phantom faces are shone in the tormented poises
Of the after life’s jail cell, without the possibility of
Paroles final tender mercy!
Ghostly images captured within the prism of reflected light,
Ethereal waves rippling against reality’s framed surface
Of the translucent, as phantom hands press, slamming at
The fragile glass of dualities deadened zone of existence!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
BEWARE THE MONTH OF HALLOWEEN IS COMING
A slight pause is taken between a thought
and the words that I speak from my heart
for words often rendered in too much haste
are frowned upon with wary looks of distaste
I have to admit that it's a voluntary action
Once my words are out, there's no retraction
Much too easily thoughts flow from my mouth
Things go downhill from there, heading south
Sometimes I don't stop myself right away
then find I'm caught in the middle of a fray
Being brutally honest doesn't always work
when it causes people to think I'm a jerk.
Enlightenment on the issue, I should seek
before I extemporize an ineffectual critique
Tempering my tongue is a work in progress
It still gets me into trouble, I will confess.
I really shouldn't say what comes to my mind
without considering someone may be maligned.
I need to consider how others will be affected,
and that their feelings should be respected.
Poorly worded phrases can destroy one's esteem
and tear apart someone's long awaited dream
Never would I intentionally say something unkind
so, to pause before I speak, I have become resigned.
My thoughts are whispers, merely a breath away
from what I should or perhaps should never say
before my tongue takes wing like a bird in flight
releasing words that could cause grief and smite.
Reflecting before I speak my thoughts out loud
is what I must do. To this I've solemnly avowed.
I will try not to make another emotional outburst
of what I can't take back. I will think about it first.
November 23, 2022
Just before release Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Poetry is a tree that stands alone
Till it matures fully grown
Little by little it adds from birth
Watered by emotions full of worth
Nourished with words simple and complete
Creating rhythm and internal beat
Capable of saying things quite profound
Sublime Rhymes and ideas abound
Early or late we think and create
And wait for words that relate
Sometimes inspiration can be quick as summer lightening
But brilliant ideas don’t always flow
So in the end we may reap what we sow
It stands to reason no matter what you do
Sometimes there will be no rhyme in any season
Even with revision it ends up all the same
And the poem begins to sound pretty lame
If it turns out bad we have no one to blame
But all things being the same
All we have left is personal satisfaction
We end up with elation or with a retraction
Worms are grisly,
quite abhorrent,
slimy, and a world apart from
style and character I'll warrant.
All they do is wriggle,
wiggle to distraction,
captured by the early bird
they're skewered to inaction
Yet they aerate the soil,
help in nature's grand design,
think I'll print a full retraction
they're not grisly, they're just fine!
Calls for resignation in cities
When press powers overlay budget of objective
Journalism
Speaking for others illustrates division wrong
Pilot project cost the city $287 per ride given
City Councilman Bill Miranda speaks to the driver of the city's trolley before boarding Monday. Perry Smith/The Signal
The employment obstruction of causeway
Is debilitating to finance language
In America
These root answers create pause in print
To retract office and improve democracy growth
Term limits aren't viable excerpts
No age allows frequency in representation
Open market Economics allows applications
Trickle Down Tips
Mathematically stated,
Budget given from total gdp
Allotted and zeroed burden
Shortfall stated mathematically,
Citizen and journalism benefit of?
Concert opinion
In no boycott
All are conveniegned
The arrogant treasure is slushed
In life styling the outgoing fund phrases
Those whom capitalize
remove civil liberties
This is lobby, page, reception, speculation
Book of retraction for new
Journalist objective argument
In dissection of
Insolvent democracy per acre or
Hectare
The statement of cost
Is evidence over budget allowance
This is corruption
Term slush
Fund not empty
Being spent in spiral
Loss of life as replaced in numerical
Press campaign powers
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This Concludes Lesson 1
Plagiarism and Capitalism
Verse As Boycott
I look out there
With a curious stare
An informative world conference experience
Should be attended if serious
No one can be seen
What could it mean?
Except for a gentlemen
A message the individual wanted to send
Holding a nation flag, notebook, and pen
A voice he wanted to lend
“I have a question
If we are in recession?
Have you heard of the triangle?
An international tangle
Displaying a thoughtful right angle
Culture, education, and health care
Are being challenged and dared
Need protection
Thoughtful interjection
Important academic schools
With lifelong skillful tools
For once learned
Decisions made are firm
Finding the right track
Not handled like a hack
I took the inquiry to heart
Swirling the Idea, I did start
Peacefully inserted in my mind
A concept I did not decline
Today we are competing in games
Warriors are athletic names
Many view sports as culture
Winning addiction turns someone into a vulture
Accepting the call
Try breaking down a destructive wall
Blocking interaction
Military might form a written retraction
On letterhead
This is better than counting the dead
If participants are not on stage
No matter the age
A surgical mask is worn
Due to health care virus that has torn
Creating a battlefield scene displaying those in mourn
Hopefully studying these two lessons
Creating a socially accepted confession
Commanding clean up the angry mess in
After grading egotistical testing
Minus violent arresting
Funny no spectators in the seats
Pondering the Olympic flame heat
Just like my speech
Where only one person I did reach
Was that lone soldier enough?
To release the peaceful white dove
Flying above
Filled with love
Getting things straight
‘We live in a world that should not encounter hate’
Remember only an audience that has one
Can get the real job done
Since the spoken word directly would be understood
Masses not tinkering under the hood
Engine conversation perfectly sounding purr
Warming the ice-cold burr
Leaving positive talk in the pot to stir
Honestly defeating any army, endured
Worms are grisly,
quite abhorrent,
slimy, and a world apart from
style and character I'll warrant.
All they do is wriggle,
wiggle to distraction,
captured by the early bird
they're skewered to inaction
Yet they aerate the soil,
help in nature's grand design,
think I'll print a full retraction
they're not grisly, they're just fine!
So... she loves you
but must leave too
a frightening thought
yet, one so true
A book she writes
dedicated to you
in return she received
a mere line or two
Her doubts confirmed
by this blatant inaction
no plea for forgiveness
or promise of retraction
Lay
No matter how much
Or how high we push on
In our quest to touch
GOD's sky we ask why
Were we made in the
Image and Likeness of
His Heavenly Highness
Yet sold to the Devil for these
Measely prices our
Souls stolen through
Intricately planned
Niceness heists
Running around in pure
Darkness GOD
"Cut On The Lights"
Give the blind sight
Take away misery's plight
And help us fight
These demons that inhabit and possess
You told us we were blessed
But where is the salvation and the rest
All we go through is "pressure" with no end,
Poured together, now we blend
Rats in mazes with no end
Rat traps with no cheese
A hard life no ease
Angels on our shoulder
Replaced with another devil and 3 boulders
Desires to kneel and pray
For angel wings but
All that emerges from
Our hearts are prayers
For us to live as Evil Kings
Give us evil things
Soul destruction and powerful pistols
Life's goal now is power & riches
No spirit
We look through the looking glass at delusions of grandeur
The devil shows us malice and calls it caesar's palace
Calls it the road to happiness
Road to satisfaction, man's body is his benefaction
Physical rot and mental subtraction, abstraction and retraction
Blood cells manipulate in science labs to produce
Paradigms
Test tube babies
We're all test tubes babies
Surrounded by glass
Trapped in slow moving ice
Rolling our lives
Like slow moving dice
Trife pushed out of our sphere into slavery
Cold hard mask of bravery
White man's emotional treachery
Human debauchery...
Lyndell Cadasse & Daryl Dujon
The Slaves Of Poetry
The day is long as my time is short
I walk the course of vengeance with a heavy heart
I see the pillars of flame...?
I see the roots of my shame...?
I see the orb, In the last days of the rain.
I see the poison or what runs in my veins.
Something I did long ago...?
In a futile attempt to achieve immortality.
That rotted the depth of my soul.
I feel the ancient seas roll?
I feel the waves of a grand hall toll.
I know something went wrong,
I sacrificed my humanity
That day long ago...
Time races with the speed of thought.
Then ends in a blinding blast.
A smoking gun...
Burns the fingers of the hand of fate.
Man made in my image will last.
I can still feel the hate...?
On screens in rooms of the lost.
The last days of Cain will end in frost.
I try to cover the foundation of my infamy...
To wash my pains away...
I plead?
Or am I insane...?
The smoke of a gun curls, brakes?
Like after thoughts.
While it bleeds the poison in my veins...
Have I achieved immortality
Or Damnation's finality?
I touch my soul...
I ride the seas ancient rolls...
I am aware of my faulty actions!
I hear the grand bells toll...?
No time for retraction...
I go to the glow of hearts reward?
The impressions of divinity
Or HELLS reward…
The pillar of flame...
The play is long…
My time is short.
I must go
The Deity wrote.
Worms are grisly,
quite abhorrent,
slimy, and a world apart from
style and character I'll warrant.
All they do is wriggle,
wiggle to distraction,
captured by the early bird
they're skewered to inaction,
yet they aerate the soil,
help in nature's grand design,
I'd better print a full retraction,
they're not grisly, they're just fine!
Some say presentation is everything and more
That’s certainly important if selling is your game
I learned that while managing a piano store.
Sponsoring concerts with musicians of fame,
Selling the idea that a buyer can learn how to play
That’s certainly important if selling is your game.
We demonstrated easy piano tunes every day
Teaching buyers simple tunes anyone can learn
Selling the idea that a buyer can learn how to play.
And it is true, anyone can memorize a pattern,
Playing an uncomplicated melody with satisfaction
Teaching buyers simple tunes anyone can learn.
To say anyone can play well merits a retraction
For only the truly gifted can learn to play well
Playing an uncomplicated melody with satisfaction.
Playing a few simple ditties is certainly swell
Some say presentation is everything and more
For only the truly gifted can learn to play well
I learned that while managing a piano store.
Written August 5, 2022