Best Socialising Poems
Before you read my poem below please know:
This poem is generalised and not aimed at any individual
It is solely my observation and voice!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Why must it be analysed and dissected
To whether a poet comments or not
We all do what we choose to do
We are a mixed bunch in this poetry pot
Some poets just like to write and read poetry
They are not interested in anything more
That is entirely their right and prerogative
That is what they are here for
Others like the social interaction
Making connections and poet friends
What you give, what you get here
On you it solely depends
Who we are …our wants and needs
Is our own personal choice
There are no set of commenting rules
No do’s or don’ts….no dictating voice
What another poet chooses to do
Is nobody else’s concern
As long every poet is respectful
Respect will be returned
Comment or not, turn comments off, or even block
Just do what ‘YOU’ want to do
Never feel pressured to do anything less
“To thyself you must be true”
There are an abundance of poets here
Who thrive on interaction and chat
They comment, encourage, support ,connect
Poets aplenty rich in socialising are here in fact
No judgement, criticism, negativity ,nor pressure should any poet face
Just a kind, caring and respectful environment on the whole
We are all unique and special individuals
Writing and enjoying poetry…..our united goal!
Her luxurious penthouse
is like a cocoon with plenty of pretty distractions,
so she keeps her door firmly closed,
because she prefers fantasy
over the handicap of reality.
Afraid of light,
her malingering mind,
keeps her hidden inside.
To shield her from the sun,
she won't open the curtains,
as she thinks it's certain,
her mechanisms may melt.
Shyness is her veiled excuse
to separate her from society,
But it's the anxiety, anxiety, anxiety!
Preferring to be an option,
rather than a priority
her caution from socialising,
breeds from the alarm bells,
set from abandonment,
betrayal and manipulation.
Trust is her terrorist.
People hunt like packs of wolves,
devouring her mind like a candy snack.
Fears of her heart are like an aeroplane,
shaking from a turbulent storm,
with her hopes forever crashing.
Trying to forget in a flash of courage,
she takes one step towards the door,
but the noises in her head become louder,
and Louder and LOUDER!!!!
repeating, Repeating, REPEATING!
Violent vibrations induce vertigo,
silent screams screw with her sanity,
struggling to breathe, feeling like
air is being sucked out of her lungs,
she vomits, collapsing to the floor.
Nothing can take off the 'edge',
the therapists do not work.
There she remains in her internal prison,
away from her eternal nightmares.
Safe in her sanctuary,
from engagement with stranger's eyes.
Like a chocolate bar
in her shiny wrapper,
that looks so sweet
but feels so darkly bitter.
It's time to be still.
It's stillness time.
Time to reflect on your day.
Your days make up your lifetime.
How do you spend your day
Wisely, in conflict, in a rush , in peak hour, in competition , socialising, eating,
Sleeping, eating
Tune into your heart and find out
Where your heart wants to be.
What do you love in love?.
What do you love doing?.
Action your heart's beat today
Allow your heart to beat to the beat
Of love. Allow each beat to be a song
Love,joy,happiness and fufillmentt
Share your song with the world today.
Write your heart's words in a poem,song ,
Painting, pottery, play dough , theatre script
Film script . Express what is deep
Down in your heart. I want to see your heart in art.
365 days of the Alcohol Experiment
After 30 days the need to continue was evident.
Italian adventure to Rome Florence and Venice, cosy restaurants and no wine a penance!
Elation on completion of a holiday with alcohol deletion.
Real rest, renewal and recuperation.
Not hangovers, exhaustion and a turn to work depletion.
No barriers of painkilling built up around me but open and available and at last truly living!
A feeling of real health never known,
sober sleep the deepest.
3 am awakenings not repeated.
Weight more stable than for 35 years
Alcohol free means energ--ie
Faced my AF fears and after 8 years trying, succeeded.
Now Coffee and company with intimate conversation not superficial chat, slurred speech and inebriation.
AF tribe explosion. Deep friendships unfolding.
laughs and special moments. Discovering worthyness and self love and whaw that I am enough!
Lliving in the moment not for the alcohol moment.
Sober socialising discovered.
Alcohol companies, brainwashing adverts pedalling lies uncovered.
Culture driven by alcohol is epidemical
Profits & Taxes guaranteed by a chemical.
Facing trauma and grief with a stable mood. Alcohol as the cause of anxiety and depression understood.
Just 10 months AF with my beautiful mother.
Such quality time above any other.
Emotional transparency, expression and facing the pain. Not numbing and smothering self again.
It's a brave new world of no regret experience.
Just wished I had known and not spent years delerious.
I'm not looking back not giving in now!
This new life I've found will much more than do
Cause it's wonderful, beautiful, amazing and true and I wish for a total culture that's new!
the catholic nurse
all sensitive
caring noticing
everything
what can she think
of my hot/cold torment
always near blowing it
living in the fast lane
so friendly kind
the girls
dewy eyed
wanda abandoned me
bolton is in my hands
and yet my coldness
hurts
the more emotional
they stay
trying to find a reason
for my ice-like suspicion
fish eyes
coldly indifferent eyes
suspect everything that moves
socialising just to be loud
compensate for cold
lack of essential trust
warmth
i love them
despite myself
my desire to love
is unconscious and gigantesque
i never know
when i'm going to miss someone
strange coldness perplexing
i've got to work to get devotion
but once i get it
i really get people on my side
there are my people
who can survive
my shark-like coldness
and there are those
who want something
more personal
i can be very devoted to those
who can stay the course
my soul is aching
for an impartial love of people
i'm at war with myself.
("Strange Coldness Perplexing" was forged using notes scrawled onto seven sides of an ancient now coverless notebook sometime in the late 1980s, or early '90s).
The student bar
I went there just to see
All the decency lost
Nudity everywhere
Parents don't have a clue
The Noise , the drunkness ,the drama
Pretense celebrities
I went there just to see
Embarrassed to say, words fail me
A mere look tells you all
This place, a reflections of the horrors of our society
A little hell
When do they grow up
I just went there to see
All the chaos , flying bottles
Church people, oh i am embrassed to say
Those smiles and that socialising unity
Beauty distorted, love measured
The height of the voices
I just went there to see but what i saw i am embarrassed to say.
Written by Tawona Ranganawa
The Waiting Room
The April weather shifted high to low,
Exposing those early clout casters
To the concluding bite of winter;
Footsteps full of foreboding
Trudge their last legs up the inclined driveway
To the Doctor’s old house.
A hotchpotch of chairs and wooden benches
Cling to the borders of the waiting room
A ballroom of romance for the sick.
In varying degrees of ill-health
A gamut of the townspeople
Chorus a cacophony of coughs
Sniffling and wheezing feverishly,
While the readers’ digest stale stories
From the well-thumbed publications.
Eyes darting around the room
Surveying the afflicted to kill the time
Conjecture at the probable cause and severity;
Childlike comparisons to ones’ own condition.
A new mother fails to stifle a yawn
Spreading contagion to the assembled
Her flushed snoozing baby
Unaware of her blaming chatter.
Life-weary pensioner invited to the inner sanctum
Chilled to the bone, sciatica stricken,
Accepts the decree of the medic
Without question or comment.
His framed degree, long faded,
Enough to stifle her to silence
His stethoscope, as a Priests garb
To her, underpinning his status.
Two codgers still await their summons
More regularly neighbours at the bar
Boisterously chatting across the room
For the oblivious benefit of the throng;
Socialising symptoms best supressed
Public bravado before their private hearing,
Selective honesty, the order of the day.
Quiet couple with obviously hidden issue
Whisper conspiratorially in the half lit room
Embracing the background murmur
And the dimness, aid to their privacy.
Vice-Captain of the junior team,
Fit, and embarrassed at his minor disorder
Conjures up exaggerated “near death” vocabulary
For future reportage to the team
His shame cajoled into the ether
By his twisting of the physicians’ imagined words.
And all the while the waiting room remains
Constant, a silent witness to all ills.
Since Birth, Blessings are never ending....
Birth Parents wishful dream, Dream Parents anyone would say
Cute, Cuddly, Lovable, anyone would baby-sit and play
Fun filled childhood, pranks, prizes, punishments, peers envy
Toys,Tiffs,Tears,Top Grades,Trophies in Academics, Activity many
Cricket captain, carrom champion, competent at chess, badminton
Athlete, Actor, Artist, Author, Poet, Palmist anywhere centre of attention
Country's best College, brilliant academics,
Friends, Love, Hotel, Movies, Malls, Parties, Picnics,
Respectable job, great assignments, good Lifestyle,
Career on fast track, work-hard-party-harder all the while
Wise wife, 24 carat children, rational relative,
Neighbours never neglecting, Friends supportive,
Had health scare, got over with miracle rare
Lived life at my terms, terms very few would dare
Enjoying Life in moments, reading, writing poems, sketching
Active on social networking sites, socialising, travelling
With Life so momentous, Death too can't be any less
As ever Life rocks, never shall feel too early when Death knocks
On Death, Blessings shall be just beginning.....
Two days ago, I decided
To realise
Some cherished memories
Of my beloved little pueblo;
So I drank about five glasses
Of Monteviejo
In preparation for
The rediscovery of
The town of my heart.
Firstly, I sat in the bar
Where I used to meet
All my friends,
And was assaulted
By the prices of the drinks
And the volume of the music.
I searched the place
With my eyes
For the innocence and laughter
Of yesteryear, but in vain.
The young people are forced
Into tight little groups,
So atmosphere
Is ponderous and alienating.
Where is the fun?
The wild and foolish socialising?
The comic local music?
All gone. I could cry.
Oh, these nerves, this living death.
I am so full of fear,
Lethargy and fury,
I can hardly function.
There's a lack of innocence
Of simplicity
And is this change
From deep within me?
The freedom,
The spark of youth
Is gone,
Or have I merely lost it?
Sophistication spoils,
The city ravages,
Senses refined
By knowledge and wine.
(Based on an unfinished story written either in the late '70s or early '80s, in the spirit of the would-be "tortured artist", absurd, melodramatic.)
And so another winter evening finds us
With breadsticks on the table by the water,
Preoccupied and staring at the menus
Considering which meal to choose for slaughter.
With effort I can come to some decision,
With equal thought you may just get there too,
Yet agony prolonged delays the moment
When you must talk to me and I to you.
The years have flown so swiftly and eventful,
The children have grown up and moved away,
Leaving us each other in seclusion,
Ill at ease with little left to say.
The strain is felt in hanging on together
When each of us would rather be elsewhere,
Engaged in socialising with some other,
With whom we could relax and laugh and care.
Small ripples spread across the surface tension,
Not near enough to cause the surface break,
“I think I’ll have the pasta,” you inform me,
And I reply: “I think I’ll have the steak.”
RAPUNZELS' DOUBLE LIFE - ONCE UPON A TIME
Not so long ago
A housewife named Rapunzel
Lived in a modest bungalow
A white picket fence contained it
Flowers filled beautiful garden beds
A swinging seat Rapunzel would sit
Golden ringlets tied upon her head
Daily she'd greet the postman
And wave as the buses passed by
She's sit and dream of a life beyond
Questioning herself as to why?
Why is it I don't have glamour
Not even glitz or fame?
Why is it my life seems dull
With everyday just the same?
Wanting to feel some excitement
A reason to dress up real nice
Rapunzel took to the city lights
And soon was living a double life
Rapunzel became known as a socialite
Golden ringlets hung down low
Mixing with all the rich and famous
Glitz and glamour was all the go
But then on one fateful day
Rapunzels' hubby caught her out
Her photo was in the social pages
He demanded "What's this all about?"
Rapunzel she was speachless
Thinking of what to say
"Oh Arthur darling that's not me
That's my sister Madeline May"
"Madeline May is in town for a month
I'm sure I mentioned it to you
She'll be busy mixing with the wealthy
Getting to know who's who"
Arthur replied "I must of forgot"
And with that Rapunzel sighed
She'd have to be much more careful
Arthur couldn't find out she'd lied
This double life Rapunzel lived
It filled her with such delight
Life had a sense of pure excitement
Being just a housewife didn't seem right
For years Rapunzel continued
Socialising with only the best
Presuming Arthur had no clue
She had no reason to confess
After a long and eventful day
Rapunzel discovered Arthur had gone
Finding a note it simply said
'You've lived a double life too long!'
04/02/2016
This time!
I thought!
I must be the winner,
Each week I waited for the results,
My joy always faded quickly,
Turning into sorrow,
But today was my lucky day,
All my dreams had come true,
A lottery win!
I was so excited and ecstatic,
All the times expectation let me down,
Really came through for me this time,
I was awarded the cheque,
Fifty million pounds,
Chance of a life time,
I laughed all the way to the bank,
First things first! A makeover,
Well I’m famous now!
Got to look beautiful!
Hair! Face! Nails and dress,
News reporter wrote articles,
Pictures taken,
From rags to riches they said,
My story told,
I was noticed! People were envious,
From that moment on! I was changed,
I spoke and people listened,
I was the person to be with,
The house! Lifestyle, and holidays,
Meals out! Socialising,
The old ways were gone,
Far in the past,
No regrets!
Then! I woke up,
To my surprise!
All a dream,
I screamed with realisation,
Instantly! All was gone,
Back to reality,
Wished it had been true.
I’ll buy a ticket tomorrow,
Share it with you,
Really!
03/07/2016
Tell a tall tale competition
Sponsor Jesse Day
It never quite occurred to me, this silence in our house,
but now for more than two weeks, she’s been quieter than a mouse.
And in our fifteen years of marriage there has never been this bliss,
I thought we must be getting on - but there’s points I seem to miss.
It was at the dinner table when the nightly news was on,
her silence it was broken, she asked, ‘where our love had gone?’
I nearly choked upon me beer; has our love diminished?
I said “oh fair go Love, let’s wait until the news is finished”.
What did I say wrong? What sent her storming from the room?
Ah, she’ll get over it, once she gets back off her ‘broom’.
But here I am with collar on and hauled in with a lead,
to face a marriage councillor with a non-existent need.
The wife and I sat side by side to face this fellow in his chair,
and I was still confused about the reason why we’re there.
I copped the leading question; he asked me why we’d come along?
I shrugged me shoulders, shook me head, and said that nothings’ wrong.
But when he turned and faced my wife she had too much to say,
for she brought up every problem that we’d had along the way.
Our fifteen years of history was tormenting to a large degree,
she poured out a painful tirade with finger pointing all at me.
She went on and on about neglect, emptiness and un-met needs,
loneliness and so unloved, plus a host of selfish deeds.
She whined about my hurtful comments that are derogatory,
of socialising with me mates when I know that she needs me.
Talk about embarrassment! I didn’t know quite where to look,
the therapist would see my wife as nothing but a sook,
but he got up and walked around, and stood there face to face,
with my wife and in his arms - he gave her a tight embrace.
Then he kissed her with a passion and I’m sure I heard her moan.
Thank God I never left the pair of them in this room here alone,
because on the face of my dear wife, there’s this erotic daze,
at least she bloody shut up when she would have whined for days.
The therapist then turned to me and with a strong voice chose to speak,
“This is what your dear wife needs, at least three times a week”.
I mulled the situation over, then compromised the fellows wishing,
“Mondays and Wednesdays I’ll drop her off, but Fridays I go fishing”.
Nineteen now,
You’d think I’d try take on the world.
They say it’s at my hands,
For how long tho I question,
See I’m here writing this poem
Feeling some kind of tension.
I’m lying in the dark,
Asking has my life fallen apart?
Felt like it ended in the summer,
hit me like a hummer,
Imma try start like an engine,
Get back up and revving.
Still here unWilling
Yet Will be my name
So at times when I’m grinning
It just be for a frame
A photo can last a lifetime
But how long is that?
Juice said we won’t make it past twenty-one
I’ll graduate 2:1, minimum at that
See nineteen was a lightyear away
Buzzing when I saw that day
Never thought I’d see it
Planned to never make it
See my Grandma told me not too,
Couldn’t put my family through the news
We’ve never really had luck
Not been blessed with the Irish chuck
Now we're in 2020
So this year, I’ll turn 20.
Making it thru first year
Tryna keep my vision clear
But unlike Owen
This ain’t how the plan be going
Yet like him I got voices
Telling me to do better
Same as every teen
Voices in us all, bet ya
Pressure getting to us all
That's all too relatable
Looking to the Skye for help
Cross wrapped round my neck
So God’s placed close to my chest
The pains all in my head
Father’s got my back
Not just God but my Dad
Ain’t a poacher like Klose
So not always in the right place
Guidance all around me
So I ain’t pulling a worried face
Not great with attention
Socialising takes its toll
Yet I still crave affection
Nothing is an easy stroll
Guess that’s part of getting older
Growing up ain’t the one chief
Have burdens on my shoulder
Till the day someone lays my reef
The girl was flipping through the book
Her teacher had set a task for her to look
For the year that wasn’t there
It had disappeared because no one cared
So she she flicked through the years
2017 2018 2019 2021
Easy she got it in one
It was 2020 that was in denial
For some reason it was deleted from the file
The research that was done
Showed a disease Covid 19 had come
Stopping work sport and socialising for everyone
So it was decided that 2020 would disappear
Simple with this explanation to adhere.
© Paul Warren Poetry