Best Tenders Poems
On troubled roads of life, when opposing sides collide,
Conflict of emotions clamors, agitating ego and pride,
While empathy warns: let forgiveness be your guide,
As benevolent angels, in missives of compassion chide.
Mired in wins and losses, when humanity strums offbeat,
Adversaries propagate hatred, and blatantly mistreat,
As meaningless conversations puff up, donning conceit,
While expressions of solemn amiability retreat in defeat.
A proffer of calm and goodwill, checks enemy’s reign
When sanctity prevails, calming a perturbed domain,
As atonement and humility heal, soothing angst of pain
And disturbed vibes seeking revenge, begin to wane.
As nobility of repentance tenders offers of mercy, grace,
Malevolent behaviors recede, ashamed in disgrace,
And enlightenment of intellect inspires vacuous space,
When hosting redemption, reformed enemies embrace.
In affluence of cognitive thoughts informed minds elate
Harboring tolerance and sympathy, discarding hate,
Being harmonious with peace, mundane life they liberate,
Achieving balance within, unfazed by travails of fate.
A dispenser of dishonest vice, a peddler of blatant lies,
In his unscrupulous realms, nobility of truth sadly dies,
Where righteous vibes of morality and decency agonize;
Where benevolence cries, pensive in verity’s demise.
Masked in aura of dubious eyes, spurious is his smile,
Hiding deceptions of his charismatic, charlatan style;
Counterfeit is the profile sporting thrill of knavish devise,
Proffering affectionate gile, spinning webs of disguise.
Empowering hypnotism of an alluring, charming face,
Weaving traps of fanciful tales his adventures chase,
Mesmerizing them; seeking the disheartened as prey,
Bestowing faux lexicons of praise, that brazenly betray.
Broken pledges and vows, now bawl from his burial site,
Deep within remorseful soul, churning anguished fright,
Awakening graveyard of victims in nightmarish night,
Burning effigies of dreams destroyed, feelings contrite.
Be on guard for imposters vying lure of sensual glance,
Beware of tenders, beckoning love, enticing romance,
Beware of mountebank, a swindler~ thievery is his art;
Dedicated lifelong, to mission of stealing innocent heart.
In a field that is claimed to be wasteland
only fed by the sun and the rain;
its dotted with a sprinkling of yellow
amongst the wild grasses again.
And the manicured lawns of the village
with the roses pruned into shape
will never be found in the wasteland
and don’t have the will to escape.
There’s a man who tenders this wasteland
and the villagers all disagreed
when he argued a case for himself
that the dandelion is not a weed.
Yes, dandelion is a humble herb
that provides us with salad and tea
it has flowers that mirror the sun
and draws in the wild honey bee.
When plants are missed in the harvest
or left for a season to grow
there is cotton like seed parachutes
drifting off as if dandelion snow.
If a parachute lands in a garden
and finally sprouts from its seed
not a villager can be convinced
that the dandelion is not a weed.
Yes, dandelion is a humble herb
that provides us with salad and tea
it has flowers that mirror the sun
and draws in the wild honey bee.
Being rich in mineral content
essential oils, and vitamins too
dandelion is kind to our bodies
a healer growing free to pursue.
As I reap my crop in the wasteland,
and only dig up what I do need
I’m happy I don’t need convincing
that the dandelion is not a weed.
Abominable holiday season greeting to the have-nots me and you
Bombshell tabloid sleigh bells got those ear holes ringing
Cut the tax gift wrap ribbon, only good cheers for the wealthy few
Ducky Little Donald beaky wacky-quacky curse caroling
Ebony epithets, Latino canina lobs, Palestinian and Muslim sobs
Freeze the Access Holly Would frame, hear the locker room talk
Get smart, dummies ... Populist Idol adored by Wall Street snobs
Hate not the playa, love the con: Eraserheads don’t need no chalk
Incense of Uranium burning, napalm is pissy incendiary to touch
Jingling cash registers be jiggling twin money-makers below and above
Kiss the ring of the Don, you poor stiffs ... just don’t ask for much
Let not the blue chips, white gems and red jewels make you a begging fool
Make the payments on time, or he break your legs with loan sharky love
No Festivus is complete without the test of strength Labor Party feats
O, deary me, Hercules Putin is cancelling from the main event
Proof is compromising truth, we don’t eat no tainted Trump red meat
Questionable straight partners sexually, fake news getting bent
Risque business dealings, tiptoe thru the financial tulip inquiries
Stake your illegit claim, skim a little off the top ... fattening grifter butt
Take a little less scrutiny, a lot more thievery ... no legal worries
Ultimate year end declaration: Shed that slothful image of a Jabba Hutt
Vacant morality, rampant gluttony ... gotta do what the lust belly says
Wiggle weight-loss room is minimal, doing the right thing is optional
*** expose, another failed marriage on the way ... oh, happy dog days
Young bacon tenders is ripe for old Porky Pig, innocence is so sellable
Zinc adulating is the best White holiday blues lip service Rudy brown-nosers do
The faintness of flight overwhelms me
boxed in caged, corseted, in a cattle car of the air
pristine bells and whistles cajole the herd
as the breath is cycled and recycled through the
bellows of plasticine and metal
germs jumping from orifice to orifice
knees crushing bosoms braced for the portent
the potential
the promise
of the fall.
Faintness elicits only minor response
from the tenders who un-tenderly steer the crowd
small moans garner memories of the mallet falls..
but fail to unseat the kindness
so needed..sought
watery eyes wave
and the floor seems the only safety
and still the settlers stay settled in their complacency..
neither rising to gift an aged woman with their perch
or commenting as she hits the floor
ah the joys of twenty first century flight
in the belly of Virgin America.
This phrase "tomorrow" I've heard and heard
Yet no one dares bother to manage the word
Thus, I try to imagine as day nears the reach
That love is a timeless and immortal breach ...
This phrase "tomorrow" that tenders your lips
Is meant to sink sanity, saviors ... and ships
For nothing of value and nothing that lasts
Is quite as unreachable, (save for the past)
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
I see its dark shadow but its face turns away
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
For when I get there
I'll drown my despair
And no longer care ...
That you said you'd love me tomorrow ... today
This phrase "tomorrow" that trembles the night
Will thieve "here and now" of its precious delight
For only this moment is worth our sweet breath
Each blessed inhalation, just one short of death
This phrase "tomorrow", you promised to me
Is as deep as the heavens, as black as the sea
But if not for you, I'm as empty as both ...
If not for you, I'm as gone as its ghost ...
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
I see its dark shadow but its face turns away
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
For when I get there
I'll drown my despair
And no longer care ...
That you said you'd love me tomorrow ... today
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Tomorrow" Poetry Contest, Edward Ibeh, Judge & Sponsor.
Twilight downs the sun as dreams appear on the screen of sleep
Slips into the subconscious realm and trips a few fuses in slumber
Adapts and clears clutter and narrates and alters the story in kind
Strips and clips a mind full of sentience like an ad-blocking app
When dreams slip into a magical edition it proofreads my soul
In magic Morpheus tenders to soft renditions and rehearses
A new dawn for sanity’s sake and rearranges bedlam in silence
Ties new meaning to fake news and spins alignments afresh
Compounds and rearranges while the curtain slowly descends
A dress rehearsal in night gown patiently waits for the curtain
A sacred orange globe dances with ripples dissected by clouds
Ultramarine parades on the fading horizon of tangerine canvas
As the gatekeeper confers with clairvoyants and hobbling goblins
The mermaids charter the voyage with sea gulls and dolphin as they
Tie holy knots onto the tapestry of fabrication and spirited truths
Sometimes my aspirations and recollections call for clean slates
When charcoal rules anthracite waves draped in sombre veils
Or polychrome splashes beg to hold on to the palette forever
Sleep brushes over karma and vagaries and tames with a stroke
Of restful fortune in infinite renditions of what the future might hold
A life line appears on the horizon anchoring a courageous flare
Regardless of whether my journey explores a secret underworld
Or ships critique onto the blatantly obvious faults in the vessel
Poseidon pumps up the raft as tears and regrets rock the boat
Blows caution to the wind and advises to hold on for dear life
Neptune challenges his counterpart and weighs for good measure
Yet Atlantis refuses to sink and Nirvana sweeps the ocean’s floor
Phoenix gathers soaked ashes while jetsam jumps into the current
When the night parades its blessing the sun resets a new dawn
The moon watches over assorted memories baggage and hope
19th April 2020
The tempest kiss of seaweed miss.
Her temper heard ~ his heart stirred.
His ship astern and fast.
The siren’s scorn lambaste;
Blind youth’s reality is blurred.
The satin hair of Whitney bright
A pearlescent veil, the tide ~
Calm! Calm! It’s all a lie!
Her body movement spry.
O serpentine witch, her smile, her glide…
Her bright white fangs aglow, move slow.
The magic of her song moored
In his terrified glance;
The seaman’s in a trance.
In former life, he would have scored.
She slowly sucks his soul, and then,
One by one she tenders them.
The fishhooks through their eyes,
Amuse her with goodbyes.
Rehearsal of fatale la femme.*
2/5/2020
*femme fatale order of words was switched to aid rhyme.
A poet’s prerogative:)
' Seven wonders'
Seven wonders are in the world,
Get to the point that never hurled,
Follows are the seven wonders,
Get to the efforts to pass the tenders.
Taj mahal sway and fixed,
To see it has been heavily taxed.
Great wall of china long and pile,
As long as 1400 miles.
Eiffel tower big and bash,
It is true it cannot be smashed.
The pyramid of Giza human animal,
Around it are so many cannibal.
Macchu picchu in Peru is ancient temple,
Excellency and magnificence of which it is sample.
Petra city Jordan olden and ancient,
Eyes flatter when we see it so giant.
Roman Colosseum the biggest death machine,
No one can survive in its survival beam.
A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast
Against a dry stone wall on a windy hill
She cradles it with love so truly blessed
Over steep Welsh hills they roam best
Hardy hill sheep bred to wander at will
A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast
Long fleeces waving in springs unrest
Bleating lambs at teats taking their fill
She cradles it with love so truly blessed
A brooding landscape the ultimate test
The valley below a patchwork sits still
A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast
Her love is her flock she tenders with zest
Caring for her lambs with love and skill
She cradles it with love so truly blessed
A shepherdess her lambs so caressed
Her life with her sheep is always a thrill
A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast
She cradles it with love so truly blessed
Reliving Upside Down
by Odin Roark
The Jungle Gym geodesic glistened,
Afternoon showers dripped,
Languorous droplets fell,
Saturating sand below,
Just like then.
Bench of parents
Reflected memories old,
Stroller wheels struggling,
Obstinate sand as obstacle,
Giggles and screeches
From canopy covered pram,
Bumpy ride for my brother,
His laughter, sheer joy.
Fathers,
Mothers,
Sitters and nannies,
Attentive to children’s every move.
So many eyes saw me
Atop the dome’s iron lattice,
Hanging by my legs,
Seeing the world upside down,
Shouting, “Look at me, Grandpa!”
He didn’t notice this day,
His sudden slumped body,
Dropped the half eaten sandwich
To the ground.
Part of me wanted not to upright my view,
That safety of abstract vision so foreign then,
So understandable now,
So strangely comforting then,
So painful now.
I now straddle atop the bars,
Thinking thirty-three years haven’t made it easier,
Save the bench now replaced
The sand succeeded by concrete,
The tenders and watchers now often of different purpose,
Staring at me not knowing
I’m anything but a nut case.
Some of us just discover
Life’s remembrances
Sometimes prophesy what is to come.
Some, like me, will realize
Their whole adult life is programmed upside down,
Its sophisticated induction lures escapees
Into free-for all playground-workplaces
Where capture so often comes by way of
Pills,
Powder,
Liquid
Needles.
I smile.
Swing down to the ground,
Throw an embrace to Grandpa’s bench,
Look up and shout…
“Reliving upside down moments of love is okay.
Really…
It’s okay.”
Waves of anticipated distance- cheerfulness and goodwill
reasons to part quite enormous
reflected in displayed emotions
long hugs, passionate waves, incomplete smiles and contact exchanges.
Queues and checkpoints, controls and duty free sales
all activities winding up in a goodbye
From the departure lounge, mothers with their kids walk
fathers with uptight faces already anticipating the next business moves
children in mental freedom roam and play
singles, so direct in focus to the flight entry’s aisle
unfortunately it’ll be an irreversible one
and an exit with a permanent stamp.
A calamity not even the tenders of coincidence anticipated
a disaster totally human in occurrence
forcing the Germanwings to get broken
by a hand unwilling to perish alone.
Exposure wasn’t enough to nurture a sense of humanity
education was weak to pump water on a soil of love
a hundred and fifty lives given to hades
without cause or reason, just on a platter of Gold
a well calculated crime beats the justification of a psychiatric malfunction
resulting to an all-lose situation
broken wings, lost lives and broken hearts
as once again, history stands still in black robes
for us all to say
goodbye our friends and adieu to our beloved children
I mesmerize
You tantalize
Slim
Tender
Hazel
Eyes
Baby your fun size
So let me bask in you sun rise
slowly but yet roughly surf your smooth thighs,
as we greet each others soul dancing in the flame
of our eyes as we mesmerize
rub
fondle
in the play
in the lay
that our tenders stimulate and amplify
the moment
I gaze in to your appalling sunrise,
just you and me free,
he and she
no shades on my eyes,
bravely staring in
your sunrise
hitting the bank,
the shore of
your fluffy inside,
like pillow fights at night, guiding my long black stripe,
into you wet dark night, we take flight as ecstasy ignites
in between your slim tender tight, I am the man tonight she
said baby you can sleep over tonight, I say yes baby ok then we
can lay back on fluffy pillows and watch a boxing fight,
SHE SAYS HMM BOXING FIGHT DAMN BABY YOU KNOW I DON'T LIKE THAT RIGHT!!!
She asks whats the cab number again. LOL why is every thing alright?
What its just a boxing fight!!!
My morning pierces my awake with grief’s thrust -
hitting me anew with the truth that he is gone.
Rising, I stagger thru cloudy bruises of disbelief
that I will never again be in his presence,
but must lifelong hold the need inside of grief.
I hear sobs break like tortured, soft tenders
and realize it’s me giving in to how hard this is.
Neither my feet or mind have concerns to move,
yet my child may need me to endure thru
Christmas do’s as I have always done before.
How do I move thru the most poignant day to miss
Dad, so prime in all past Christmas memories crafted?
In my life as infant, toddler, child, teen and woman,
he ensured magical Christmas moments.
I feel I’m drowning and trying to cope under water
where sadness-strikes stab one after the other.
He was just newly sixty-seven years,
yet already needed more in God’s heaven.
The one thought I grab is as a Christmas prayer that
I ever recall him as clearly as my heart feels him today.
... CayCay Jennings
December 14, 2018
Grace Harbour
First into Grace Harbour
Me in classic sailboat
At anchor alone
In Desolation Sound
Where silence reveals the place
And the world is bigger
Because I can hear its’ vastness
It’s Bioacoustic diversity
Seals surface, gulls dive, water ripples.
A breeze in a cedar whispers
The buzz of a bumblebee.
The distant whistle of an eagle trembles in air
And falling droplets of rain taste of spruce.
The very place sparkles in silent sound and my soul is still
No need to block out
The combat zone of flashing messages.
From CNN and Fox.
But stillness of silence
Is reflected in blue water
and framed by oyster encrusted rocks,
While green and orange algae talk
Tidal pools and purple sea stars walk
And I can hear the world as music.
--------------------------------------------
War, bombs and shrapnel.
Roaring yachts arrive like Hummers or tanks from Kandahar
Stacked high with gadgets, guns hanged,
Travelling as a pack of waking house-mobiles
To conquer wilderness with bars, showers, propane barbecues
Gas generators, deep freezers, and boom-boxes
All sorts of folks; models in bikinis with pedigree dogs.
Fashion ladies in silk that launch revving zodiacs
To carry standard poodles for an urgent pee.
Then ‘A Tea Cup Yorkshire terrier’ yelps
At a Jack Russell that barks at a Chihuahua
As a Dachshund and Afghan Hound take offense
In frenzied jealousy.
Big hipped humans scream ashore in tenders.
Acoustic awareness numbed
The get-away-from-it-allers that bring it all always, partied.
As night fell they turned the generators off
“I haven’t seen any wildlife”, said one,
“There was more to feed at the zoo”
Said the other boomer
“Yea, where’s the loon.”
Fixed ideas of progress consume.
Then our mother moon
In full dress exposed an array of limpets
Of many sizes and shapes all clinging to obvious rocks
Exchanging freedom for the security
Of a defensive shell of fixed ideas
And automated reflexes.
It is useless to talk kindly to a limpet
One must detach it by main force.