Best Unavoidably Poems
*** MUSINGS ***
I have grown old,
thankfully,
dragging along all my ailments,
unavoidably, it seems, but endured ~ and
graced by the frequent
florets of wisdom
adorning the rounds of circumspect musings
— those streams of sub-conscious pondering —
which then course (perhaps too much)
into my rambling soeech —
and occasionally my babbling on about dreams —
throughout whose passages, I have found
I believe
in dimensions upon dimensions of reality
wherein our thick, surrounding present
come
the symbols; geatures; motions; keys; spirits
and intuited messages —
meant to expand
any narrow notice of this life.
————————————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/18/2023
Thanks be to God
Lately i've been thinking
Am i blue or am i pink
Am i living out this life in real time
Or merely following the highlights
Can i or could have indeed done
anything different
Made better choices gone right
instead of left
Or is it and was it all predestined
And i just a passenger or guide
Here is where i am
Where i was simply unavoidably
meant to be
Until my clock expires and so do i
Not a second more or less to buy
Where i stand is where i die
Lately i've been thinking
I think to much
Wishing what limited time
i have away
Complaining rather than
being grateful and relishing
All the thing's i am bound to miss
Thing's i wish i should and could
have done
But put off in favour of doing
nothing of consequence
Worthy of a single memory or
anecdote to last me or keep
me company for eternity
If someone was in death to ask
Cruel is the mere intent to say
You care, then walk away
From problems, sorrows, fights,
Personal issues, grief and frights.
Nothing is easy in two.
When you look at your other,
Eagerly waiting what next to discover,
You take it all as being new and sweet,
Regardless of wrongs you unavoidably meet.
Some things are easier in two.
If neglect and good-bye-s come your way,
Both wishing for a happier next-couple-day,
Then comes the illusion that time settles all in an hour,
But we make the changes, time has no power.
Things are solved easier in two.
Life, I think, is a bit of a paradox.
Floating through this desolate void devoid of context and explanation, (some might suggest value as well, I suppose);
I conclude these idiosyncratic murmurings of bothersome almost-people
Reprimanding my almost-conscience are just a whit of an empty, emaciated white whale of a civilization proclaiming pseudo-camaraderie and disappointing undertakings as suitable solutions for contentedly concluding one’s existence.
Though some perceive fraudulence efficiently, soaring quilled shafts of deceit unavoidably puncture intimate electing properties of our conscious.
No barricade can shield humanity from himself.
With living comes a constant quality of inconsistency,
despite the state of existence itself being incredibly monophonic,
permeating my formless breath and solid heart like no other experience.
Well… there is another event I imagine could deliver a pure, unadulterated sensation of intoxicating eternity.
I will wait for him, peacefully, until he arrives on his sweet, milky steed.
O dear old friend, deliver me swiftly unto my end, the true undying void.
Embarrassment at the Big Box Store
By Elton Camp
Sue was checking out at the crowded store
Then occurred something that she did abhor
Although the checker tried to do it twice,
A bar code just wouldn’t scan—no dice
So, loudly over the store’s public address
The equipment malfunction he did confess
“On super size Tampax I need a price check.”
It was misheard as “thumbtacks,” then heck
Over the public address system came the call
That was unavoidably heard by one and all
And so loudly the question then did come
“Is that the type you push in with your thumb?”
“Or is the missing price you need me to trace
Ones that with a hammer you drive into place?”
Red-faced Sue made a mad dash for the door
And resolved never to shop there anymore
the right notes,
rhythmically in place,
entice the held and unrefined
to become free...
matching the speed of attention
like a turned head facing the horizon,
pondering in solitude the multitudes,
feeling strong twisting waves
like love.
we have no control.
and the speed of that realm cannot compare,
the timing is beyond perfect,
unavoidably implicit,
becoming that horizion...
the wind...
and smiles...
and eyes...
how can we hold onto this?
To write the perfect ode or verse
Is inevitably every aspiring poet’s curse
To write like the greats of the past
Who somehow have managed to last
Perhaps as a guide follow Patterson or Shakespeare
But wouldn’t this just lead to more confusion and fear
I wonder if there is a dummies guide to becoming a poet
With a cheesy heading like ‘your poet you just don’t know it’
What would such a book suggest
Would it be easy to digest
It would probably read
Poetry made simple here’s what you need
Step 1; it must always rhyme
And be kept in time
Step 2; create a meaningful flow
Which is not too fast or too slow
Step3; convey superior knowledge and I.Q.
Show a variety of styles perhaps put in a haiku
Step 4; capture the readers mind
Know when to be cruel and know when to be kind
Step 5; make your theme relevant
A topic know one knows may be irrelevant
Step 6; use a thesaurus
It will help you find words similar to porous
Step 7; make sure your message is clear
When trying to portray terror give the reader fear
Step 8; keep your verse short and sweet
Keep your writing punctual and neat
Step 9; don’t rush, take your time
Eventually you’ll find a word to rhyme
Step 10; end it with a great line or pun
And lastly try to have fun
If only creating the perfect verse was such an easy creation
We would certainly have a poet filled nation
The substance of verse would perhaps be bad
Which would make lovers of verse increasingly sad
If you need to follow instructions or a list
In relation to verse you evidently don’t get the gist
Simply write what you feel passionate about
Say it softly or say it with a shout
Grab pen and paper and feel the space
Because with more self expression the world would be a better place
This guide to poetry is clearly a joke
Follow it and you will unavoidably choke
While Shuttered Up Inside... ©ozy
Snug Air Conditioned Demesne...
Analogous to my boyhood
cosseted and bereft, I assay
to poetically elucidate how majority
of mine years found me
deft keeping danger at bay
only thru the pour substitute
of my imagination
remaining safe within the causeway
of a quasi Norman Rockwell picturesque
unblemished near utopian day,
where trumped up "FAKE" danger
stoked courtesy of
anticipatory anxiety didst essay
when pinhead size
pores faux stressed
every epidermal square inch
populating skin oozing perspiration
along I-59 pro Roman
lix spittle sweaty freeway
precipitated, via illusory mailer daemons
unavoidably pitching me
into an inescapable fray
unlike late twenty somethings
(Jay Austin and Lauren Geoghegan,
whose cruel fate
at the hands of Isis militants
published online by Irish Times),
evinced carpe diem
existential Great Gatsby
live life to the fullest
created an extraordinary journey
(now forever immortalized as
daring adventurist trekkers)
with ample horseplay
deliberately, egregiously, fanatically
and wantonly killed,
when purely exalting in zest
promulgated by indomitable spirit
found me choked up,
a baby boomer i.e. west
tern civilized married bloke,
who opted to die vest
away from blatant uncertainty
never daring to experience unrest
outside a severely circumscribed perimeter,
exempt from a life
and death litmus test,
where very little harm extant,
when taking repast or rest
only ushering, venturing,
and taking, sans
quotidian cerebral quest
ensconced within four walls
without nary a pest
except...pet peeves of mine
within psyche built a nest,
nonetheless hounded by many a vicious beast
whose predatory cannibalistic feast
comprises thine psychological state greased
with until mortality expires,
asper being temporarily lend leased.
HUMANITY
Action and reaction, equal and opposite
We hear, but just what do we make of it
Do we let loose and curse or merely spit
When arrows rain, how shall we respond
It does take pressure to make a diamond
And unavoidably, we will all get physical
One can argue that it’s all about balance
With nods and smiles as merely a valance
As even we might then utilise our talents
To react with equal force, maybe in kind
With daggers of steel, or just of the mind
When angry, it’s no time to be whimsical
Humanity and animal instincts kept apart
And was meant to be from the very start
Yet both have physics at their very heart
The very first instinct is always to survive
And perhaps with luck and skill, to thrive
Yet the desire for good over evil is critical
I thought when I was little adults did not cry.
“They are strong and brave and unafraid.”
Such I believed ’til my ninth birthday was nigh.
I awoke one morning with a pain in my chest.
“Best take you to the doctor,” Mother said.
Until she did, I knew she would not rest
The doctor poked and prodded, head to toe.
Then he turned to Mother, his voice somber
“Something’s askew, you need to know.”
Mom’s voice trembled as she said “tell me.”
“It’s his heart. Surgery may be needed.”
There were tears in her eyes, hurtful to see.
“If it’s what I think it is, it’s a real concern.”
Mother’s face was ashen, wholly overtaken.
“Tests are needed, my findings to confirm.”
“Be in my office next Thursday at four,
in the meantime, give him plenty of rest.”
'Twas a week away for Mother to worry more.
Each night she came to me eyes all red
and with tears flowing, feared I’d die.
It was then that I knew there in my bed.
that adults do unavoidably, inevitably cry.
No Hypocrisy, No Cant
The lioness is wont
to practice no
hypocrisy, no cant.
The lioness
will topple her objective,
grapple with it till
all palpitation
finally is still.
The lioness then laps,
completely dry,
what unavoidably
may spill.
Donal Mahoney
I can sense your impatience...
While yours truly (me)
doth strives to maintain
comfortably seated
closed eye meditative pose
mine skinny sea thru legs
(mere fo' shaw
by George spindleshanks) outstretched,
(cuz Lotus position impossible mission -
would warrant emergency circumstance
leaving stalwart fellow
as permanent paraplegic)
even crossed legs painstaking ordeal),
nevertheless arms draped limply
and/or tucked under
respective knobby knee
herewith barely audible sighs
Ahab boomerang reverberating sound
can be faintly yet clearly heard
courtesy thee self trained
ventriloquist missus
indicating slightly perturbed air
immediately disrupting mine ascent
into transcendent state,
which self induced
light quasi hypnotic trance
doomed to suffer blistering defeat
despite best guru vee college try
subjected to additional
pronounced relentless interruptions
unavoidably eventually experiences
heavy set bodily mass
loosing violent figurative waters
witnessing severe mattress flexion
testing material strength
jackknifing irksome husband
precariously rocking zen
rolling poor buoy to and fro,
hither and yon
him sternly clinging
against steep odds
tossing last raft of lifeline
before pitching the
dreadfully knotted sir into limbo
challenging laws of physics
re: offsetting his center of gravity
think skiff madly scrambling
barreling, keeling, tipping over
analogous to bobbing
rickety weatherbeaten hulk
landing headfirst upon wooden floor,
where ohm man hiss expletives
immediately supplanting
formerly invoked mantra.
Peter Pan Syndrome the most
accurate way to summarize
psychological mindset of yours truly,
particularly as a boy with brown eyes,
who did NOT holistically acclimatize
himself with peers, which insecurity
latched deadbolt draw
bridge guaranteeing Harris
parasite to cannibalize
(figuratively), sans rip
pull sieve flesh eating das guise
nanobot, while clinging with dear life
to mother's apron strings, no surprize
unavoidably, predictably, inevitably,
trauma did successfully burglarize
(more serious than Watergate)
rendering this withdrawn, small size
passive, and docile pipsqueak
human punching bag to other guys,
one puny slip shape lad's bodily statecraft
always ready to capsize
silently suffering lifetime, threatening
afflictions, harming easy target
inculcating aghast fear to socialize
compounded by stature quite undersize
additionally afflicted with minor defect
submucous cleft palate did compromise
vocalization with severe nasality
(iterated previously other poems), where
bullies did zero Kamikaze like to criticize
relentlessly, an ideal
defenceless, friendless,
and helpless "scapegoat" booby prize
scared kid, who stood
stock still cowering in an agonize
zing posture, while my whole felt as if tied
into gordian knot as
"hoodlums" did gleefully antagonize,
yet never confided hostile treatment
to either parent, I wanted to disappear
and DIE, hence escapist wishes aye did fantasize!
A heavy heart this papa doth air
signals necessary pang...
this father must bear
though...with muted pomp
and circumstances I cheer
stunning transformation unbelievable,
sans thee as youngest daughter
doth commensurately commandeer
her life by the figurative horns buck haws
self reliance mandatory to attain
indomitable survival deer
to push comfort zones she
lucked out with genetics
that didst electioneer
despite inherent trepidation and fear,
she (beloved, emboldened,
invincible, et cetera) progeny
acquiring, developing, and
possessing radiant flair,
whose sunny countenance
brilliant blinding glare
akin to an angelic spirit hooh did hare
kin profuse joie de vivre inhere
within hermetically sealed armor,
asper this "FAKE" junketeer,
where parting with bittersweet
sorrow tugs this longhair
dada, smote by whirlwind visit,
and now oppressive pronounced absence
more painful greater than hiatus near
four years ago, when venturing ala pioneer
(with just sixteen orbits
under your Kuiper Belt), ye yearned to rear
up despite congenital
(high functioning autism) diagnosis
you launched unlimited sky rocketeer
initially requiring parental consent
as dreams tease your fancy
over the rainbow somewhere
reverentially obliged, essentially,
dauntlessly and courageously climbing stair
weigh to heaven as thee define
ultimate goal, bon voyage unavoidably tear
ring at this being, unbear
rubble, who helped beget thee, yet...
cannot do otherwise but
abide by law of nature...unfair
for birth parents to experience unbear
hubble sadness, though starkly oh ware
precious offspring must take flight...
argh grievous heartache until...
sands of time mark many a year!
No acknowledgement could be
commensurate nar e'er
equivalent to countless years (scores of orbitz
of unexplored wonder) – left...
(with millstones around neck)
to atrophy on severe truncated
limb mitts, now cause
for silent lachrymose as this
brother doth brook a wake
his pained self actualization
(particularly predicated on
decade number six
unavoidably approaching) uptake
analogous to 2001 A Space Odyssey,
when closing scene
of the film - image of embryonic
"Starchild" left a slake
king unshakable reverberation
Also Sprach Zarathustra
echoing in me noggin since
opening soundtrack did quake
of a much younger self, when seeing
the movie did overtake
puzzlement until I read the book
"aha" awareness did make
that minor mystery resolved, and
now childhood's end keepsake
recalled as the time thy vulnerable
psychological state did intake
pelting asteroid storm cratering a boy
who shied away, to forsake
growing up, and now haunted (akin
to ghost of Marley) not "FAKE"
shackled to an un freed spirit, that
got squelched as if a sudden brake
got jammed propelling this then puny
body electric...now doth ache.