Best Shirking Poems
Pushed aside, location of home obscured, limited by isolation:
drifting aimlessly - subscribing to a voluntary incarceration.
Outcast by an alternative perspective, a differing sense of direction,
through a desire to develop resolutions to numerable imperfections.
Others recede into bad habits - shirking from every challenge,
placing emphasis on ignoring responsibilities; yet expecting a life that’s lavish.
So it’s hardly surprising when their dreams fall by the wayside,
having taken the easy road too often, they’re fighting against a landslide
to recuperate what was lost, or rather thrown away by being lax and care-free,
they’ve imposed upon themselves a limit, as to what they can achieve.
Armed with the powerful weapon of fore-sight, I clawed myself out of the rut,
but it’s little consolation for having to watch my friends get stuck.
Trying to avoid a patronising tone, I conceal myself into anonymity -
uninspired by foolish games, approaching every overture with timidity.
Wanting to tell them to change, to realise their mistakes,
but sometimes things are hardest to see when they stare you in the face.
It’s their life to live, and do so how they wish -
I just pray they realise: there’s more to it then “getting pissed”.
HABITS
We wake up in the morning,
Our memory, collecting storing,
The same data over, and over again,
It becomes entrenched – a habit is due,
What triggers habits, just a simple cue!
We pass a highway that we know well
And put our car into cruise mode, swell,
This is routine, and we follow this road
For there is a reward,
We will shortly arrive at a place,
To which we associate a particular face,
And we store this for it feels good,
We now have adopted a habit,
That’s understood!
A repetitive gym advert
On TV, is yet another cue,
We lace up our sneakers, lay out our
Clothes, kiss husband goodbye
So long Hugh!
This has become routine,
For in a week or two
Our reward is due,
We will feel bran new
When we stand on our scale,
Which now tells a new tale!
A few more kilos you will
Have shed, we love this new
Routine, wow it is working
And without even shirking,
One gym lesson, we love the reward,
We once hated gym,
Now we never get bored,
And besides feeling healthy
We make our lives lengthy.
But some habits beware,
Cause strain, so refrain,
For these habits try to engulf
Us with guilt,
But our willpower will
Overpower guilt, if well built,
Willpower is the conscious mind,
And alerts us if we intend,
To be unkind,
So hurrah for the conscious,
We heartily cheer,
But the unconscious is
What brought us here,
To crossroads between the two,
Everyone differs in their view.
We must therefore
First think everything through,
For we adopt habits by
Storing more information,
And progressively throughout,
Each generation,
Embrace many a new habit,
But sometimes
Just do not grab it!
Psychiatrists forge forward
What a dilemma,
To find answers, neither
Altered or awkward!
Wrote this poem after having read he Power of HABIT by Charles Duhigg.
Before… I beheld her quivering, shirking---
suffocation gripped her with my envelopment;
breaking free from the gentleness I exuded
she would scamper wailing…
as if scorched by my belongingness’ warmth.
After painstaking therapeutic sessions
offering my compassion-propelled embrace
I witnessed her, gradually yielding to me
succumbing to my love-blest invitation…
devoid of resistance.
Graciously overcoming
grievous traumatic hug-pressure
she confessed that she’s healed
from domestic violence, by the mercy of God*…
Who rescued her against lustful and incestuous hugs.
Now… with serenity's bliss
she’s cheerfully reaching out to others
letting them feel kindness-driven hugs
sealed by care, concern, and comfort...
precious blessings of earnest bonding.
*Psalm 52:8 ... I trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever.
June 6, 2020
8th place, "Hugs" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish; judged on 6/14/2020.
Fireworks dance and flourish in the air
Like the pairs of lovers in the innocent sky
The nostalgic tune plays from the flute
Like the tormented smile of the little brave girl
When happiness and jolliness echos through town
When suddenly they vanish into vacuum in a BANG
Missing like the name of the little brave girl
What will the eagles do behind their wings?
Shirking from the absence of familiar tone
Reinviting the lover's dance to the night
Closing their eyes to sink into the tune
The eagles pack up their bags and leave
Departs their home and leave the present
Leaving that girl with a broken smile
When all the fests drown in the water
The audience shall open their ears in the silence
When all light extinguishes into thin air
The watchers shall open their eyes in the dark
Sacrificing the impossibles in our dream
The pairs of lovers in the innocent sky
The brave little girl with a tormented smile
It is the most humanly sacrifice one could make
Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder,
But Whiskey makes you frisky.
Clerihews and epigrams are fine but
Do not tell these to one lost in love
Except when you mean to cheer up one
Fevered with temporary amourous setbacks.
Gift them the gift prized by one and all
Humour - evoking laughter or perhaps a smile
Inviting a participation in the balm laced with
Jokes, both ribald and a bit of the plain
Killing the gloom of mindless regret and remorse.
Laughter is the best medicine, they say,
Mightily potent to dissipate every whiff of gloom
Nostrum for broken hearts and the flings and arrows of life.
Ophidian ilk are friends that are wry, shirking a shoulder
Pretending with masks to smile away misfortune yet
Questing to wring out sweet savor from other's calamity.
Roar unto the wind a bit louder than the storm
Spoiling what they seek with your tuppence attitude.
Take what is yours, let no one deny you your share
Under any circumstance do not relent for what is your due.
Verity is a virtue that'll stand in good stead,
Warmth towards your fellows won't ever waste.
X-factor's something natural not something you fake,
Yearning for glory like a harlot who'll sell.
Zing is the thing with this homily, my friend.
~27 May 2016~
This is Graduate School
What do you expect?!!
This is graduate school!!
The girl, glowed in her importance!!
This work was important!!
And who did he think he was, shirking work!
Our importance is pivotal.
For without importance, we’d have no artifacts.
And our importance oozes from smokestacks and chokes the very breath we breathe!
And our importance keeps us safe from the Jones’ below us, those miscreants!!
And our importance makes us real!!
We put a man on the moon!
I am that I am! I am MAN!!!
And my towers reach to heaven and scream, “I no longer have need of you!”
But at night, some nights at least.
I look up to the sky,
And realize that I am stuck on a spinning rock, with no way out, and I have no idea where
I came from or where I am going?
And I know panic!
How very inconsiderate,
dieing in the open;
shirking anonymity
behind the raging green.
You avoided the cacophony,
left random bullets blameless,
then when your God
abandoned You,
He left
just You,
alone;
refused to leave your ruined face
behind the mangled sandbags,
or in a shallow foxhole,
instead of here,
with Me
THE TENTH WAVE
The rain drops prick the skin of the sea
Tumble with the urchins in the water,
The black water, so heavy, tired--
Watching it tic tac toe in millions of tiny rings
Tic tac toe, three by three by three
Up until infinity--
As scores of seagulls watched from buoys
Red sky at night, sailor's delight
Isn't that how it goes?
All hands on deck! All hands!
Until then came, out of the night sky, a wind
With the sound and fury of a thousand black horses
Pummeling down on the water, the great, fearsome ocean
And stirring it up like a bowl of soup
All hands!
The great boats all groaned in protest,
Their wet, wooden bellies full
Reeds choking shores uprooted and flew at the storm
The whole world seemed to be feeding the storm,
Which would not be satiated, but howled for more
Chunks of earth, wood, sail, even human souls
Would not appease such an appetite
And then, in the pulse of three hours, a brief
Quiet...
...an aching silence
where the sun deceived them
By shirking off the clouds for a moment
Hear the call of the birds...
Red sky at morning, at morning, at mourning
It was then that the waves began--
Undulating at first, feel the water breathe,
Soon rising, rising, black towers
Into walls of water no one could scale,
Ripping across the top in violent zig-zags
White madness, the open mouth-
-and they came, they came in rows
As tall as nightmares, even hungrier than the wind
And they ate up everything they touched,
Swallowing lives, swallowing that which made them
Pulling our dwarfed armies into the deep, deep
Dark, black salt water
Until then, after the herald, and the birds didn't sing anymore
A tenth wave, which rose colossal over the rest,
Moving like a lost city,
Over the darkness, a shadow covering this world
Silenced what was left to be silenced
Little sailors
Little sailors
All sailor's songs end
And On the Land
Your little wives
Will catch your songs on the wind
Will pick up those songs on the winds
"I only wish that ordinary people had an unlimited capacity
for doing harm; then they might have an unlimited power
for doing good."--Socrates
BLASTING OFF
What if human beings
Were not broken sinners
But the resilience of life
Creating long-term winners
Sitting on the launch pad
Engines primed and ready
Blast off is a go!!!
Lifting off and climbing steady
Floating above the blue
A world of imperialism
Masses in a learning curve
Amidst a goal-setting schism
No government ever to blame
For even a single atrocity
But an adolescent species
Shirking its responsibility
Yet growth being inevitable
Stunned by its very speed
Now we're getting so big!
And such amazing dreams
From rolling in the mud
And outgrowing that fun
Until we stop pointing fingers
And we glow like the sun
[I am proposing the idea that no government has ever
been responsible for anything. Perhaps we sentient
human beings hold all power yet are too reluctant to try
to understand exactly who we are. Thus, perhaps we
prefer bad governments and blame over .......... well,
what would it mean to face ourselves without distractions
to mask the pain?]
Note: I hope this write doesn't make anyone angry. I
know that mention of the word government ignites
passions.
The water has receded
And I can see everything
in the bottom of the stream
Big pebbles of assorted colors
covering each other
frogs scampering about
and big fish meddling around
I stared in the silent water
watching rubble floating on top
giant rocks planted in the sand
unaware of what is at hand
And openly denying that
they didn't know each other
I walked across the buried rock
to view the pebbles from all angles
With heightened curiosity
and reflective ingenuity
I dip my foot into the water
but it was as cold as ice
and something strange
was bubbling up inside
The sun shines vigorously
through the tall trees
penetrating the water in the deep
I could see the color of everything
the shape the depth and the size
The wind came to a stand still
And mad birds murmuring
precariously from within
They start a mutiny in the trees
Flying furiously in the air
waiting for the storm as it draws near
I crossed the stream
and sat on a wooden bench
Contemplating numerous events
The mysteries of nature
birds talking to each other
And everyone screaming
and shouting at one another
I could not understand the birds language
but I could sense their troubled emotions
Whistling
screeching
squealing
shirking
crying
hooting
tweeting
sounds without description arouse in the tree
Different rhythm unfamiliar tune
Making everyone confused
Mozart in all his glory
couldn't have created a better symphony
Even among the tallest tree
nature is wailing in misery
I cannot fathom it all
unparalleled music resonating in my head
and the trees standing upright
scrutinizing this terrible plight
The leaves are not moving
And the bushes can feel the strangeness
the birds are whimpering
forcing nature to set an important meeting
Everyone gathers in Eleanor's park
waiting anxiously for the meeting to start
The wood pecker hammering the wood
and the sweet John Che-wit
standing on the shaky branch
watching the cardinal reading the agenda
The cold and dry winter has returned
Hot spring sweltering in summer
Every thing is green again and the trees
waits patiently to dance again
The bird started a sudden commotion
and the meeting ended in a raucous demotion
Winter hits back with a monumental explosion.
The folks in the know
And running the show
Propose there are eight human emotions.
But as far as I see,
Their lists don’t agree
And in my head causes commotions.
So since you insist
I shall make my own list
And figure it out on that basis.
Emotions may change.
In depth and in range
And are truly mixed up in some cases.
So I’ve made my choice
According to Joyce
Apologies to Greek Aristotle.
Someone let envy out
Before I was about.
I’d like to put it back in the bottle.
Love, fear, hatred, sadness
Kindness, joy, contentment, gladness.
Are emotions according to me.
Today is a so-so.
No deep emotions to show.
A day of contentment it has proven to be.
The sun rose as it should
And the weather is good.
I’ve no reason at all for resentment.
I’ve done lots of shirking
When I should have been working.
But I chose to sit in contentment
And compose what I‘d say
On this quiet day
About my prevailing emotion.
One can’t stay mad all the time
Or glad all the time.
That is a ridiculous notion.
And though sometimes I seek
A valley or peak,
I’m content that contentment’s my potion.
By; Joyce Johnson 4/3/13
For Donald Williams' contest "What is your primary emotion today"
I have a gripe that I’ll explain
I hate excuses that are so lame
Nothing more my ire inflames
Then people crying, “I’m not to blame”.
Put your excuses in the vault
I don’t want to hear, “It’s not my fault”
Step up to the plate and be a man
It’s shirking responsibility that I can’t stand.
Blaming others is a terrible trait
A character flaw that’s second rate
And you know darn well I tell the truth
Even though you have no proof.
So if you continue to play that game
To you, you know I will show no shame
And punish you in fairness’ name
Because you know you are to blame.
You all know me quite well
I'm a creature from Hell
A troublesome sprite
Your lives I do blight
If you've got trouble
your woes I will double
Your machines are my joy
With them I will toy
If something is working
you'll not find me shirking
I'll pull out a wire
and perhaps cause a fire
I'll loosen a screw
and make you feel blue
I may pull out a nail
and make something fail
If 'lectric power you lose
it was me blew the fuse
Your fluorescent does flicker
and you might hear me snicker
In your freezer I'll lurk
and then it won't work
No sound on your TV?
Then that will be me
Your car will not start?
That's part of my art
And when it gets going
a tyre I'll be blowing
I'll mess with your 'puter
and turn off your router
You know your hard drive?
To wipe it I'll strive
When you took to the air
I followed you there
Apollo Thirteen?
On that I had been
That Chernobyl disaster?
I caused that for my master
'coz destruction's my game
and Gremlin's my name!!
(a lighter-hearted parody of the masterpiece poem “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe)
Once upon a noonday sunny, while I smiled at something funny
In the park where children play and suitors woo,
’Midst the sound of subtle flapping, suddenly I got a crapping;
On my cheek I felt it slapping, warm and wet and slimy, too,
And my uncontrolled reaction to the foul, repugnant goo
Was a squeamish “Eww-ew-ewww!”
Soon my shock assumed a passion of a duly fiercer fashion,
For the bough above disclosed a damning clue:
There a shapely dove was lurking, all her guilt and duty shirking,
Unconcerned and coyly smirking, just to see what I would do.
“Fiend!” I cried, “You’ll feel my vengeance!” but this only made her coo,
Sighing softly, “Toodle-oo.”
Whereupon, with madness growing, I picked up a stone for throwing,
As but slightly farther off she lightly flew,
But my aim was rash confusion and it met with no conclusion,
So in spite of my delusion there was nothing I could do.
Now my heart will not get over how she crooned her calm adieu:
“Toodle-ooo-oo, toodle-oo.”
12/13/23
Secrets still buried
Stories in the wind got carried
Historical accounts occasionally varied
The truth can be sad and scary
We've barely
Discovered much so spare me
The same can be said for things happening fairly
Since the dawn of time it occurred rarely
Causes with a dark past humans still worshipping
The cauldron folks continue stirring
Waters people are murking
So much unknown, instead of starting to worry
I try to find answers but it can't be done in a hurry
Somewhat disturbing
And blood curdling
Could it be water that caused such a shape and curving?
This planet twirling at 1000 mph constantly whirling
Every night tossing and turning
I was hurting
My vision sometimes blurring
Minimal ground I've been traversing
This weed I'm endlessly burning
Toward a fast death I'm hurling
It's difficult to find the right wording
The cycle still circling
The truth is emerging
And surfacing
Energy dispersing
Or combining and converting
Then it starts surging
To some it's unnerving
During my time on Earth I'm searching
No matter if others are deterring
I'm still unearthing
Sometimes smirking
Nearby curbing
I'm determining
It can never be found by purchasing
It's concerning
For so long people have been serving
Evil always lurking
Showing no mercy
I'm constantly learning
During this journey
No adjourning
The hands of time turning
There's endless controversy
That's occurring
It's not always working
Such concepts use to irk me
(Birds sing above Earthlings) or (birdies chirping above earthlings)
It briefly takes the mind off the worst things
Yet I still feel like cursing
Toward no destination I've been surfing
Mind all over the place still swerving
For more I'm yearning
Something inside churning
A fool splurging
Yet again swirling down the drain go my earnings
I still can't get it right even after rehearsing
What a joke feeling like a ghost the recipient of shirking
How am I already not on a gurney?