Best Retraction Poems


Sulu, Lock Phasers and Await My Command 2

(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...........
© The Fringe  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: retraction, philosophy, spacefaith, fear, me,
Form:

Constipation Hell Worse Than Perdition

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"?
Categories: retraction, angst, anxiety, blessing, conflict,
Form:

Premium Member The Legend of the Werewolf

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
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: retraction, adventure, evil, halloween, holiday,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Ghost Mirror

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
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: retraction, art, halloween, imagery, imagination,
Form: Free verse

A Poem In Progress

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
© Jim Joyce  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: retraction, poems, poetry, writing,
Form: Rhyme

Pause Between Thinking and Speaking

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
Categories: retraction, spoken word,
Form: Rhyme


Ode To the Earthworm

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!
Categories: retraction, nature,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member A Successful One and Done Message

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
Categories: retraction, abuse, addiction, fantasy, international,
Form: Rhyme

Ode To the Earthworm

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!
Categories: retraction, nature,
Form: Verse

Life As a "poet"

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
Categories: retraction, introspection, life, on writing
Form:

Vengeance

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.
Categories: retraction, allegory, allusion, analogy, angel,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member His Inaction

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
Categories: retraction, introspection,
Form: Free verse

Ode To the Earthworm Re-Post

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!
Categories: retraction, nature,
Form: Verse

Flesh

Twist of Flesh
Turn of Soul
I pay them all with tokens of Gold
Skin different form within
To except my odd facade
Many turn an eye
Push me aside
Dimensions of flesh
Do not desire
My mind comprises
Twist of flesh
Turning old
Payes with cold
notes from my Pain
I want nothing to gain
But, respect from above
And a little love
Judgment for action
I fear your retraction
Pay no interest in me
See... twist of flesh
Turn to dust
I gave away my passion like gold
For you to look at me
And see my soul.
Categories: retraction, allegory, body, conflict, cry,
Form: Free verse

Well What Did I Expect

So here it is
the passing of a day
this dull Spring day
and the silence pollutes my thoughts
while the depression dips poison into my oxygen
It's cold outside
fitting weather for how I feel inside
for I am lost
I don't know what happened
but well what did I expect
to be held in high regard
constantly being waited on hand and foot
But well what did I expect
myself to turn magician
and allow myself to reappear in her presence
so the love I spoke, promised would be real
No...I don't know what I expected
but I never thought in a matter of weeks
I'd print off my retraction
and realize the words I said
were only exaggeration
for I have no actions to back up what befell my lips
while yet a voice from her remains unheard
And it all has me wondering
what have I gotten myself into
It just all crossed my mind at one time
a jumble of broken sentences
like I'm learning how to talk all over again
My feelings they were true
and hers, they were too
but time gave way to a wound unnoticed
but time gave way to a wound that bled too deep
leaving a portal open to the past
and now I'm that boy of old
not a man anymore
Just a loser
just one more loser breathing poison oxygen
or so it seems only in my tainted head
Well what did I expect
happy ever after isn't listed in my job description
I'm just a fickle, feeble minded
insignificant little ant
better yet, a rotting piece of tree bark
deteriorating with time
Her delightful, delicate, portrait features
makes me so sad inside
a deep shadow of blue decorating the depths of the ocean
Ocean, a song sung by Cold
reminding me I will never get her back
Was she ever mine to begin with
Never...
no matter how much I want her to be
or do I
I don't know
I was so sure before
but I'm so full of doubt and weary
that her spell has subsided
and I cascade down a single thread
of my lowly spider web
but I'm not weaving lies
I'm weaving a message
that says I love you
but I don't expect to be answered
I don't expect comments
I don't expect for these words to make any sense
I just feel so low
It all just hit me at once
but this is just one thing I'll never tell her
I don't want her to think I'm pathetic
I don't want her to think of me differently
I...I don't know
I'm just...
Well did I expect...
Categories: retraction, depression,
Form: Free verse
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