Best Shortchanged Poems
Why do you write?
To give birth to beauty
To decorate a drab wall
To splash color on a canvass
To entertain and enthrall
Why do you write?
To become immortal
To capture fame
To heal a wound
To become sane
Why do you write?
To produce magic
To invade a heart
To be someone’s passion
To create a work of art
Why do you write?
To take a word picture
To weave a poetic tapestry
To build imagination’s castle
To write your own history
Why do you write?
You write because
You're confused
You’re overwhelmed
You’ve been abused
You write because
You’ve been shortchanged
You’ve been neglected
You’ve been enraged
You write because
You have a need
You crave passion
You want a creed
You write because
You are in pain
You carry baggage
You have tasted rain
You write because
Like every poet
That has come and gone
Of will ever be
You write because
You are searching for
The rhythm and rhyme
Of your life.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Where do the homeless go
when the streets are covered in snow
and they fear the safety of the shelters
as they edge away to hide beyond the so called helpers?
Where do the homeless go
when loneliness and poverty are buried by the snow
and all the pleasures of life and living are gone
with no hope or dreams seem song of a dying swan?
Empty buildings, vacant schools, disassembled hospitals stand
as homeless live in subways, alleys, streets, parks, cars, places unplanned
forced to pick up few belongings and move on out of sight
fade away and disappear into the darkness of the night.
Politicians, millionaires, wall street guru genius live assuage
and argue fifteen dollars is too much an hourly wage
while they live and spend unconditionally their monetary exchange
without thought or concern for the homeless poor and shortchanged.
Who are the homeless on the street
with their few possessions that they keep?
Once your neighbors, now house foreclosed,
once the soldier who fought your wars,
once the youth who lost their way
once your parent who could not say,
but for the grace of God
there go you and I.
Why his old head is so hollow you can see him think.
Onlyest time he ever makes any sense is when he takes to the drink.
And that don’t last too long caustit puts him right to sleep,
Kinda like me whenst I go to count’n them sheep.
Well old Booger never claimed to be the sharpest knife in the drawer,
Shoot he just now figgered out where he’s possed to sit when drivin de car.
He’s been want’n to get hitched but there ain’t no single kinfolk around,
And besides they gots to be some of the ugliest women I’ve found.
Well me and ole Boog went in to town, just kinda piddlin I guess,
When out front Langtry’s hardware stood this ole gal, and I think somebody
done shortchanged her on that dress.
Why old Booger said that wuz the pertiest thing he ever did saw.
Said he wuz gonna marry up with her and take her home to meet pa and maw.
Well old Booger started to put the move on this sweet little ole thing.
He asked her right there on the spot, said I’ll even buy you one of those
wedding rings.
Well she turned him down and it made poor ole Booger cry.
She told him she wuz a transvestite that wuz the reason why.
Well poor ole Booger wuz kinda like me
He didn’t know she wuz a he well this( he-she) fooled him and me.
Well we headed on back cause our luck done went sour.
And besides it wuz getting onwards of the drinkin hour.
Should you ever find your way back here in these hills.
Bring your on jug and have it filled at one of our local stills.
Shine down here the best you’ll ever find.
Just be careful of the women some of em are the funny kind.
When a young boy I was,
I equated ability with age;
The elderly must have, so I thought;
Age seemed to me all that counted;
I quested for the needful and the not,
Mama was a super being,
Papa was almighty god;
Their love for me helped my view,
As my wish daily came to be;
If I had asked for the sky,
I would have had stars and sun,
In my room like other toys.
When a young boy I was,
Papa was the richest that ever lived,
The strongest under the sky,
Stronger than lion and horse,
Bigger than law and rule;
Mama was the perfection,
One that could never wrong,
Standard for others to measure;
No woman was mother enough,
But she who often came to me
With cookie she freely gave.
Now my central head is Sahara ,
Halt pity, I am not shortchanged;
My goatee compensates the glass afore;
Again ,I’m Johnbull’s able-dad,
The day I went to town with him,
Johnbull saw a cute Ferrari,
Daddy buy it,son decreed;
When have I become Ronaldo?
By the tallest building in Abu-Dhabi
Daddy buy it, son said sofort.
The day Klitschiko won a war,
And his name rent the air;
A voice in the crowd rang aloud:
Who can stand the iron man?
Johnbull’s spontaneous reply:
Daddy, daddy, my daddy can;
Hey!I looked at Johnbull’s daddy’s fist,
A good sight of mustard seed;
Next I checked out his daddy’s chest;
Bit broader than cricket’s thorax,
Could I be the thunderbolt ?
One and only Johnbull’s superman?
Then I remember my johnbull years,
Could this be kinder's trait,
That daddy is often a god ?
"measuring years"
how do I measure the years
do I start at the beginning or the end
will it cover the many tears
anger and bitterness I will not defend
just let me be to have my mind
as the years of pain are intertwined
years one and two and counting are gone
I know there will be a new dawn
I know all has been rearranged
as I somehow become withdrawn
life has changed
I manage to get through the years
as I learn to pretend
and somehow work through all the fears
still anger and bitterness I will not defend
I sit and watch my life being defined
through all the years combined
with all the medical treatment undergone
the curtain of life is being drawn
I am told everything is unchanged
yet I remain withdrawn
life has changed
time passes as I hide the tears
a new life is always around the bend
month after month until it becomes years
while on the physical and emotional mend
space and air seem confined
as the life once lived is behind
and the feeling is of being alone
all that is needed is for the anger to be gone
I look in the mirror and see I have aged
for no reason I lash out at everyone
life has changed
a new day begins after four and five years
the years one two and three are seen to the end
still there are days of tears
still there is anger and bitterness I will not defend
it is hard for the mind and body to unwind
as I continue to watch the life I left behind
I keep searching for a new milestone
with every being in my bone
I feel I have been shortchanged
that the world has won
life has changed
now is the time of six and counting years
will I ever reach the changing bend
will this altering life stop the tears
my life of old I will not pretend
years of passing are still intertwined
and my being today is how I am defined
it is true that yesterday is gone
I cannot let bitterness continue to be drawn
my view of life must be rearranged
and view the paintings of a new dawn
life has changed
now the story has been told
as measuring years is getting old
I continue to search for a new view
as there is so much to attend to
while life has been rearranged
this is certainly true
life has changed
SkyWatcher - 10-08-08
I twice shortchanged Warren one of the two “t”s in Buffett. I found Ogden Nash did a fine job with double letters in "The Lama".
That inspired me to write, in apology for slighting Mr. Buffett:
The Buffet
The one-t buffet,
That's a punch,
Or a place to
Have your lunch.
The two-t Buffett?
He never knew
A fiscal crunch.
And I will bet
A silken tuffet
There isn't any
Three-t buffettt. *
--- Oliver Klosov
* The author regrets that he cannot duplicate
Ogden Nash's final “groaner” re a “three-t buffettt” . Pooh.
If that's not enough it will have to do. (heh heh)
Last born of three
With loving and caring parents
Although through life
I could not see
As I grew up
To belong was my need
Rejected by some
Concentrating only on me
Seeing what is not
Was my deal
Fearing the unknown
Was all so real
Each head is a world
And mine was in turmoil
The power I had
Was shortchanged and soiled
I did not fit in
So I made it a point
To fit in with all
Even if it meant hurting me
When at the time
I didn’t realize
That what I felt
Was a normal life
They could not adjust
To my caring and empathy
They all thought me weak
And saw me with sympathy
My family is all to me
And being there is all I need
To finally see that all the problems
Don’t lie within me
Yes I kept to my self
And I hoped that no one saw
All the sadness
That came through me
Yet life is short
So I make the best of it
Now knowing that
This life is what I make of it
Life goes by day by day
And I now enjoy
Waking up every day
Full of love and joy
I now know how to love
Who to love and why
I can truly say
I LOVE and ACCEPT me!!
A Diamond in the Rough.
By: Nena Enriquez
Fear, trembling heart afraid of despair
Whirlwind thoughts assailing the distance
Frailly brave;strength woven in weakness
Irascible with no apology
Soft, tempted to touch
Like foam the body, an angel to my soul
Spirit relentlessly searching
Sagittarius to the marrow
Butts like implants
Tommy making babies
I don't care yet I do
As I walk, heart flutters excitedly wanting to
I long for you
Longing to say my first halo
Broad, big and strong
Fragile, weak and soft
Complimentary contradictory
Yet I remain defiantly unrepentant
I won't do it
Never would I
Even if the world wants me to
The walk, the talk, the disposition, and more
What a cheer deceit
Buried in the soul of her sweet dreams
The warrior must stand
I must
Cuz of the beautifully, wonderfully special person I'm
Sassy with black unrefined
Like it would never finish
Longing for lost words to fill in the gap
What a bridge left to be filled
But of a truth I know I can't be shortchanged in life
Cuz I'm destined for the top
Oh My God
You can do it alone Sissy don’t be a ‘sour puss’
All that rolling a stone uphill is best done in utter
~ Reclusion ~
Oh Godot all that waiting and never to come
Almost there and short of a cookie nevertheless
~ Shortchanged ~
Professor Emeritus in your intellectual tower
Knowledge is power but without action remains
~ Vain ~
Hermit have you found Plato’s miraculous cave
Smack in the middle yet the golden mean in
~ Peripheral Longing ~
Buddha Almighty where is that solemn fig tree
If not inside you growing weeds searching for
~ Love ~
When granite stays put at the base of the task
Absurdity is taken for what meaning it offers
Teaching the truth reflects sharing as caring
Ariadne shows the path to colour outside the box
Dharma and Sanga envelop Ego and Self and
~ Then Lonely Pursuit ~
~ Yields Offering and ~
~ Beauty in Solitude ~
03rd May 2018
Ariel had beautiful amber eyes and raven hair,
With a figure that would make most men stare.
Those deep, dark eyes had a story to tell.
You could look into them and swear they cast a spell.
Those eyes had seen happiness and unbelievable grief.
A drunk driver had taken her husband like a wicked thief.
That dark night their lives were irrevocably changed.
Death paid them a visit and they were shortchanged.
A year later Ariel met someone new,
A friend introduced her to a professor, and a friendship grew.
They went to dinner, picnics, and to plays.
The twinkle returned to her sad, pained eyes in a haze.
Slowly her heart began to heal…
This new man made her senses again start to feel.
Love replaced the numbness and her pain.
Now her smile reached her exquisite amber eyes again.
The devil takes his taxes
before you pay your fare
on your way to the due of you
completely unaware
Shortchanged may seem your billfold
your dreams a distant past
your search continues for the gold
your mould has been recast
Far reaching are the teasing
outstretched are fingers touch
mystery of the meaning
how Midas had so much
Olympic gold medallions
awarded to the best
disciplined sweat in training
surpassing ultimate test
The gold within' the warrior soul
refined the metal first
striving for the medal is the goal
effort from hunger and thirst.....
Wealth you seek, hmm let me decide,
Ok let’s trade, work out a fair price,
Sometimes I can be quite extortionate,
This special case, perhaps very nice.
Depends weather, you please me,
Better be good, for our exchange,
Though take great heed, in advance,
Never am I duped, or shortchanged.
Cannot bargain, once the deal’s struck,
I make the rules, there’s no way back,
Billion dollars, my one and only offer,
Yes! you chose wisely, a sweet contract,
Sit back relax, we’re almost complete,
Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping in touch,
Just need to seal, our little covenant,
Few moments, you’ll possess so much.
My mark, I stamp with my rear left hoof,
From you just need, two vials of blood,
Be off now, enjoy these new found riches,
Can’t promise though will bring much luck.
Decade passed, guess who’s here to collect,
Enjoyed watching, you squander and spend,
That’s all behind! it’s time to settle our pact,
Liked your style, frittering every last cent,
Be silent beast! for I’m ready to pay,
Nothing left to offer, I give you my soul
Millions of them, in hell’s vault anyway,
Mine must be special, cost a heavy toll.
Show contempt, incur the wrath of Satan,
Will impale you infernally, upon my horns,
Sounds like bliss, fine music to the ears,
While at it, swathe me, in sharpest thorns.
What sort of person, would endure such pain,
Sadomasochist! Know damn well what I mean,
So the harder you punish, the more I enjoy,
Done homework, you clearly would’ve seen.
Not so fast kid, I always run a rigorous screen,
Why the samples of your blood, was in need,
Turned out we’re family! welcome back home son,
A supernatural demon, from my very own seed,
Looked on in pleasure, at your filthy whore orgies,
Champagne, crack cocaine, whilst eating raw meat,
Have to say, what a complete loser, and disgrace,
Most unworthiest successor, now inherits my seat.
By
David Kavanagh
This thirsting land, parched by the sun
An autumn drought, that summer spun
Without the rain, no colors found
Fall foliage fizzled, green to brown
A cheated heart, now feels shortchanged
That natures brush, has been restrained
The trees are bare, north winds have blown
Like fleeting thoughts, how time has flown
Whilst winter waits, at fall's deathbed
To lift my heart, I look ahead
I see bright colors, of early spring
The awakening, of everything
Today the skies are clouded gray
The sun will soon be back to stay
Springs rains will come, Nature will bloom
Reviving hope, replacing gloom
Daniel Turner
At cock crow
Lady and Mr. Y, turned seventy
They googled themselves;
The wind whistled past
And exposed the gooses back
They felt the wrinkles
On their temple,
The rings around their eyes
And the tires around their waistline;
They threw caution to the wind,
Damned God's wisdom;
Rejected and refused the notion
That every product
Has a manufacture and expiration date
Like Adam and Eve,
They rebelled and went
On a rehabilitation and refurbishing spree:
First, was a tummy tuck, Liposuction,
Rhinoplasty and facelift,
Then,
Necklift, browlift, chinlift, breastlift
And facial rejuvenation.....
For a while,
They shortchanged nature
As a snake shells it's outer layer
But,
Could not cheat death
When it came knocking.
avast extent of following poem
crafted a couple plus years ago,
when foretaste of temperate weather
covered swath of eastern seaboard.
Courtesy climate change
(think global warming),
I would never wish to exchange
unseasonably warm temperature
(eighteen plus degrees celsius
in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania)
meaning way out of expected range,
cuz far to balmy, undoubtedly
with old man winter furious
his blizzard snowbound
weather forecasts shortchanged.
Once thermometer readings rise
even smidgen one moost not minimize
Earth way out of balance,
an inconvenient truth
I haint gonna catastrophize
as bajillion acres plus
one after another ocean dries
even the skeptic cannot turn
blind eye and believe contrary lies
when every species practically extinct
and self proclaimed éminence grise
doth trumpet and stubbornly tries
to claim plethora unearthed resources
as sudden goldmine
against wages of sin
former traitor joe
(biden his time) redeemers actualize
to catalyze nth industrial revolution
teaching as heresy
ecocentric, which material basket
of deplorables power mongers bowdlerize
concurrence toward meteorological
trend most all people agree
toward adapting, experiencing,
and witnessing increase -
fair in height degree
bestowed upon Thomas Newcomen,
Richard Arkwright, Samuel Crompton,
Edmund Cartwright
and James Watt first Industrial
Revolution conferred as honoree
appellation not necessarily
in retrospect donned as noble pedigree,
now hundred of years
later downside we see
of belching, coughing,
disorging... yes siree
foul, (née deadly)
cancerous, gaseous, noxious... pollutants.