Best Slighted Poems

There's Danny with his love light burning,
Then Victor with his soulful yearning. 
Jan makes us laugh with wit and delight,
Armand serenades us all through the...

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That tiny pause to skirt the truth, half-reals you'd paraphrase,
The subtle softly spinning gyre of cunning in your gaze,
Vague reflections from your skin - a...

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I was searching my mind for a theme to choose
for my very first poem of the year
turns out it was an easy choice
to thank some...

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Ode to the Grandkids

My gaze, grandkids, you inspire me to write.
I love the way you laugh, trust and cherish,
Devoting my mind day and through the...

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Should I be jealous of the sun
                  ...

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I shall take my morning walk,
communing with the birds and talking
to myself while reading Kafka,
glancing at the latest headlines.
Dear Stravinsky's 'Rite' is slighted,
(he'll be back...

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"The worst feeling is to be ignored once, then twice, 
then again and again by someone you consider precious."
      ...

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Was the cow upset,
when God rested His head 
in her manger?

Was the donkey insulted,
when God lay in the straw she’d been fed,
the hay – His...

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To the party, you were not invited. 
As anyone else, you feel slighted. 
When they turn down their thumbs, 
to hell with those bums. 
You...

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The problem of the inclusive pronoun is still very much a problem for the writer, and needs an accepted solution.  I tried for years...

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You're invited to a party

On September twenty-seven,

From six until the party ends. 

Masks come off about eleven.



Oh yes, it is a masquerade.

Come as whom you...

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Although the Christmas tale rings true, 
For every child who feels slighted and destroyed, 
By religious insult, pretentious token or symbolic kiss, 
He shouldn’t only...

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I dreamed I went to work in the nude, 
being slighted I thought was quite rude.
I was paid no mind,
to my stripped behind,
so I found...

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Why would I want to be a flower
when I can smell as sweet?
Why would I want to be an ephemeral spectacle
when I can be an...

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...inspired by 'Portrait Of A Lady' by T.S. Eliot


On winter days the view outside is nebulous at best,
within, the furniture is as it always was,...

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