Best Satisfactory Poems
You Steal My Beauty To Heart With Glee
Clear night sky once told me to yield
hold your horses and be quite still
you are but a dot in a dirty brown field
certainly nothing to give others a thrill.
Now go lay in a moonlit cave
head bowed and heart seeking relief
give thanks for what I gave
and seek mercy for you are a thief.
You steal my beauty to heart with glee
yet return not praise and glory my way
yes, you love deep what you see
but fail to ever give me proper pay.
What could I say facing such true accusations?
I simply bowed my head and gave sincere salutations.
R.J. Lindley
Spring, 1971
Note- From my private journal. Written two years after my father's death.
I often wandered out into that barren brown field late at night to gaze at the vastness of the universe and ask why he was taken from me...
Soon with no satisfactory answer, I turned to hating the world with vengeance in my heart that continued for 18 long and painful years ..
and so it was that after a good run of
great sex & many lovers,
s/he came across a period of time unlike
any of her/his friends could come close to comparing,
a time of
frustrating
hiccup-fart
orgasms.
each time s/he was getting towards that final punch of that final round
rockin’ & a sockin’ like the robots themselves,
off went the gas pumps inside &
oh
the
embarrassment---
the kissing went ripe as the
hiccups blew in the face of the lover still trying to concentrate
(and dinner only a few minutes/hours ago, now cascading in a fine mist across the face) &
as if that wasn’t enough to drive a stake in any
romance of any satisfactory quality,
out came the blast from the other end
filling the scene with
custom methane &
sooner than later
(as if it was anticipated anymore by the other party),
the end result of
what coulda’ been,
shoulda’ been,
but clearly
wasn’t.
Satisfied in no satisfactory way
I eat my dreaded shredded wheat.
Ugh.
An everyday food bringing me no joy.
A pattern I have fallen into at breakfast
Reminding me of mundane things
Bringing a mean dose of regular into my life.
While I dream of pancakes with syrup
and whipped cream, slathered in bananas
with a dollop of pudding.
Those days long gone,
When I could eat whatever
I wanted, and not suffer.
This old house has stuck windows.
Some of those panes are strangely cracked.
In places, the glass is oddly chipped.
We will replace those worn and chipped.
Then our house will have new windows
Only the internal glass will be cracked.
If only we could mend those cracked
And wounded hearts, and fill-in chipped-
Broken pieces like the glass in windows
But broken hearts cannot be like new windows, not cracked or chipped.
I am having trouble with doing this form. LOL.. This is still not satisfactory for me.
"As the sky melts to reveal a slivered moon,
My own reflection will begin soon
To critique my day,
In an objective way
As to whether my reveal,
Had a satisfactory appeal
To bring me comfort and contentment,
On my journey and regiment
That I am one step closer to my goal,
To achieve all that my heart holds
We are never really complete,
So we search everyday to repeat
Our quest to find our happiness,
With God above as our witness
So may sleep bring you peace of mind,
To know that your search is going just fine"
I had no one to comfort me
While I was going through anxiety
The sun is setting upon my rage
I am released out of my wretched cage
Freefalling into the abyss
Falling short in helplessness
Hopelessly calling your name, for I feel blind
You burn on like a furnace in my mind…in my mind…
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You scorch me like a flame of unbearable uncertainty
You regret, treating me wrong because of insecurity
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You churn like an ocean against a ship of pirates
Endlessly overcoming my fears and keeping my wits,
Trying to find some sort of satisfactory outlets
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
I had no one to comfort me
When I was depressed and lonely
The moon is bright tonight with gladness
Will I ever be happy? Who will mend my distress?
Freefalling into the abyss
Falling short in helplessness
Hopelessly calling your name, for I feel blind
You burn on like a furnace in my mind…in my mind…
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You scorch me like a flame of unbearable uncertainty
You regret, treating me wrong because of insecurity
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You churn like an ocean against a ship of pirates
Endlessly overcoming my fears and keeping my wits,
Trying to find some sort of satisfactory outlets
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
I had no one to comfort me
While I was in bittersweet captivity
Well, God sets me free…
He will see me through
But, an alone bard – I am meant to be…
He will lead me to you
Unsung on the world stage
Heroes of the African continent
Diverse lingo, diverse souls
Capture minds capture hearts
Most unappreciated
Their rhythm echoes
Their wisdom ancient
Music unconventional
Yet heavily intoxicating
From Papa Wemba "show me the way"
I gyrate to Kofi to Fela Gola "vita imana"
I don't have to understand
My hips do as I sway
You can go the whole night dancing to "malaika" by fadhili Williams
But don't drink too much "umqombothi"
You still have time to remember
From the shores of jazz to the apex of jazz
Hugh Masekela always eponymous
For when those hips are exhausted
a break to the sound Bembeya Jazz National "Ballake" always soothes
And the list never disappoints
There is a bite for every saccharine moment
A melody for every savory memory
A satisfactory note
Your ancients called it "engoma"
Rhythmic drums whose sounds traveled
From the eastern tip to the jungle
Now Kingoma is the apex of swahili rhythm
Your "engoma" carried across the shores
Upon many a downtrodden slaves stole
And your rhythm salve for the souls
During periods of darkness and plight
In slavery and apartheid
Through many of your children's plight
Only pleading for their rights
Sam Cooke "A change is gonna come" such delight
But you liberating spirit of "engoma"
Not confined, Cesaria Evora the barefoot diva
Dared break the bounds of boundaries
Trailblazer for your brothers and sisters
No longer a confined orphan
But a shimmering star
And now you fuse a new generation
Always so creative psquare "personally"
To Wes "Alane" to Yossur N'dor
To D'Banj to Akon, shimering stars of the continent
Your children were called the passionate ones
I agree
Teachers, Teachers.
Teachers Teach us.
They give us speeches and praise us like Jesus
But they're not holy, swag.
They cater solely, for themselves; So selfish.
Some are rude and crabby; So shellfish.
There are fat teachers, black teachers white teachers, nice teachers mean teachers, Chinese teachers short teachers, tall teachers real teachers, fraud teachers They all have one thing of mutuality It's the reality that their mentality is somewhat less of a formality
But in actuality an amorality to separate individuality and callously cause a casualty within the academy!
This insanity is why humanity can embarrass me because instead of practicalities teachers search for cavities, abnormalities, incapacities and irrationally devise a strategy to tactfully act valiantly.
But will still unhappily fail students for what they see is blasphemy its fallacy!
This rhapsody I tragically quote rapidly will acidly still be viewed as a travesty
And I'll still disastrously speak profanity to the faculty And keep my centre of gravity up like I'm on a balance beam.
I aim to be satisfactory, not great or any better
This madness will fractionally cause my fatality but ill happily see every person that ever doubted me praising me surrounding me clouding me with a comradely like I Just saved the galaxy
And naturally I'm a hero nationally for upstaging our teachers vanity
This Veracity for becoming an anomaly has fuelled my heart with audacity and now I sit lavishly lacking the spirituality to gallantly care about this municipality that we live in
And teachers teach in so I guess my speech ends with a brief description of some frequent fiction Teachers, if we speak up Will you freakin listen? Because this cheap conviction of you I speak is different.
Livelihood is in clothing but deprived of its sleeves
sustenance never recognizing a path
to stability and regularity
basic needs tripling into an extended family.
Yet I survived.
Some long time ago, just any cover
above the head was enough and satisfactory.
Hustling creates a rare climbing route
while givers of admiration aren’t ready to loan it.
Yet I pressed on.
Great substance has now magnified such identity
popularity then serves a mind so ‘hand-some’
red carpets, shots and flashes, escort volunteers
sycophants in suits, money-made friends and currency mongers.
The lard labour prior to this victory, no one remembers.
Life is one, but a meaningful one is immortal
any mark can be erased but a stamp stays permanent
in a heterogeneous world both graceful and diabolic
wealth just adds a number to a ringing name
but a hand of great influence
attracts the worship of future generations.
enjoy the reed
now displayed as a satisfactory deed.
* * * * * *
A Senior Moment - written months ago commemorating
the graduation from a vaunted charter school
in Bend, Oregon of thy lovely youngest,
this papa could not attend -
geographical distance constituting the primary determinant.
* * * * * *
Valedictorian treads across makeshift platform
i.e. most likely auditorium stage marked
by hushed audience inhaling, notating,
and regaling gleeful lightness of buoyant feat
(but me Yeats heavy of heart) feted for 2017 Redmond
Enrichment Academy graduates, who attained,
a milestone vis a vis earning their
high school diploma, and ready to launch
bountiful daunting challenges, yet sure
footed each young gal and/or guy
will exude joy and sorrow upon grasping their
high school diploma aware a sound education
sent each on their own future path
while pomp and circumstances issues forth
by adroit musically talented underclass
* * * * * *
man, which emotional celebrated achievement
evoked by keynote student speaker,
but also underscored via that well worn mortar
board, linkedin, kickstarter, Joyus
tune (composed by Sir Edward Elgar –
subtitled March Number 1) acknowledging
cheers, eliciting grownups immense Kleenex
moistening overpowering quintessentially
simmering ululating wrenching yowling
as tassels flipped (maybe in conjunction with
a non twittering uber bird) to the left side
of the caparisoned newly anointed future
Dharma Bums, professionals and/or trades
persons momentarily stung with sadness
to depart favorite classmates and teachers
who voluntarily cosseted, ferried, and
* * * * * *
capitalone did flickr imperceptibly, kneaded
and leavened LivingSocial, and massaged MineCraft
outlook plenti full confidence, faith, and inherent
lettered oblations serve as snap chatting,
"He Never Felt It".
I walk lost
without my soul
I will find it
searching
alone
he never
felt it
Today I feel
unnatural
ugly
lost my beauty
I'll look
weeping
he never
felt it.
Now I am in need
of somebody
wipe away
one tear
out of billions
he never
felt it.
Isolation from love
is slowing down
towards him
my depth got
sick lonely
he never
felt it.
I searched why
explanation
was satisfactory
I am out
of love
He never
felt it.
Confusion without
love
erupted
in
tremendous
pain
attacked
my heart
he never
felt it.
Therese Bacha
24 June 2013
Only Harry
Could find “Love in The Kitchen Sink”
I love the way he looks at the world
and the things he makes me think
A single sip is not satisfactory
I recommend a big drink
Not “A One Hit Wonder”
All his messages interlink
“The Road Is Long”
“Traveling From The Fields of Grief”
His thoughts offer comfort
a path to relief.
His is a “Significant Pen”
That writes “Naked Words”
He travels his own way
Not one prone to follow herds
Whether “Whispering Ferns”
Or “A Little Girl Once Lost”
He weighs his words carefully
Aware of their cost
One “Waits Upon The Horizon”
For “A Magical Spring”
Make No Mistake
That isn’t a small thing
“There Is A Place”
Where “A House Divided falls”
He can “Colour Me Lilac”
As I’m absorbed into walls
“The Blue And The Grey”
The “Lady Down The Lane”
I learn about humanity
As he reveals their pain
A “Voice In The Wilderness”
Who’s “Coming Of Age”
He will answer “A Worthy Question”
With the words on his page
Dedicated to Harry Horseman.
Written using titles from some of his poems.
There are two sides to a story,
A truth and a lie;
I will perish no religion,
What shall come ahead,
I will fight hard to survive;
I would make a secret potion,
That I have brewed in my mind;
It is a wild poison,
That I shall drink every night;
I know it isn't random,
For some spark to ignite;
The power of one sided love,
Shall jubilate the night sky.
I will pray at the church,
I would want him to be mine;
The feeling of contentment,
To look at him;
Standing on the street,
Flawlessly fine;
A blessing from the Heaven,
The brightest star in the sky;
I could be in denial,
I know it's surreal,
To want him by my side;
I could be selfless,
For the love that shall invoke,
Some sense into my mind;
Giving life to this body,
Through emotions that are divine;
I could beg for his mercy,
I am done with the crying;
A liberation from this Hell;
A rescue from this plight;
But the saga of one sided love,
Has defeated the repentance of time;
I wouldn't mind shedding a few tears,
The hail and the rain,
Shall pour altogether,
The thunder would rise;
But he would be the calmness,
Pertaining in the wild;
It might be dangerous,
To veil the thunder,
I would not be a coward,
Hiding in disguise.
It is satisfactory,
To watch him breathe the air;
I would want to be the reason he smiles,
How could someone be so beautiful;
Enchanted and alive?
A glimpse of the Universe,
In those captivating eyes;
I would need an antidote,
To escape it for a while;
The magic of one sided love,
I wouldn't dare to try.
I could keep creating,
Prose to describe;
How we fit together,
Our spirits intertwined;
The heartache shall be my renaissance,
The lust and desire;
Every last ounce of hope is a sin,
A toxin in my vein;
That would cripple my heart into pieces,
To gently remind;
The saga of one sided love,
Has always been unkind.
Blue bike(Northern dialectably)
A bicycle that’s new was blue and swankity it had 52 spokes all chromed and
silver fancery
That bike was mine
I rode up hills to see the countery and down dales to go fast and rode it chancery
That bike was mine
I popped a tyre down near ta factory and I took it home to tell ta family we got
out spoons and inspected ta mattery then I put a plaster were the puncture
bubbled watery
That bike was mine
It had 10 gears which were satisfactory five were hard and the others sappery
but it got me going were I want ta be
That bike was mine
Soon I was looking for a new bike practically with ten more gears and a name that
suited me but I’ll never forget that blue bike frankily
Because that bike was mine
My love has no limit
Like the stars beyond our galaxy
I wonder why they stay mad at me?
Effortless of them, I've stayed satisfactory
But I know something they don't
I'll do something they won't
My love has no limit
And conditional is what I don't want
That goes for family
That goes for friends
That goes for my girl, until we meet our end
My love has no limit, so what's an end?
I'm saying I'll give it all as long as you don't pretend.