Best Unceremoniously Poems
My life spirals ever downward...
The grave taunts me with its laugh.
Death's bony fingers are affixed my throat
As the jester of my unmerited epitaph.
My angst at my ever-flounder appears
Well-earned and justly placed
Where the rabid minions of an avenging God
Will no doubt make bold of my disgrace.
Have I lived too long a life so plain
Where my soul was too confined
And any realistic hope of eternal bliss
Seems mere folly at this time?
To live too long is an old Man's curse
And bound to evoke some industry
Where best intentions are set adrift...
To partake sweet ecstasy.
These stains that commemorate my Earthly Sins
Are laid denuded for all to see.
I drag them unceremoniously into an afterlife
That may not wish to bolster me.
But who among us hasn't stumbled
With Death's foot ajar the door
With temptations strewn like pearled oysters
On life's repugnant shores?
The righteous path is straight and narrow
And a vehicle for all those bold and brave
But only appeared crucial and strategic as
I stand with one foot in the grave.
How happier were those days gone by
When I was young and free from vice.
If I had only maintained such vernal guileless
To insure a place in paradise.
But I have come to this conclusion
As Death's whisper slakes my soul with dread.
Too much time has been my nemesis and any
Last minute burbling is better left unsaid.
So at this hour... this late late hour...
I now confront an awful truth.
I might have had a better chance at Heaven...
Had I perished in my youth.
The End
Ever-flounder: A bad situation of one's own making.
*I wrote this poem from the perspective of someone who fears their sins are
too heavy for God to bear.
*Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your uncle.
The family had just moved into an old castle in Scotland;
mother, father and their only daughter, Emmie, that they loved so deeply.
Emmie was only 12 years old, and so innocent and beautiful.
One night, she was woken up by a dripping sound;
an echoing sound of water drops in a sink;
rhythmic and terrifying.
She sat on her bed, and suddenly appeared a free floating arc of strange light.
It's that time of year again: Halloween night.
Doors flew open and shut; strange voices and footsteps started.
She was so frightened, that she almost threw up.
Emmie made the sign of the cross, and plunged into a thicket of thorny wild roses.
Terrified, excited and ready to run out of the house in 20 seconds,
she overheard whispering words: "All beauty must die."
The voice was so deathly, that it sent chills through her spine.
It did not make it any better that it sounded too close to her ears.
Her nightdress being torn by rose thorns like papers in a paper shredder,
she ran as fast as she could; not back to the old castle,
but away from the creepy voice, and strange events
in the old castle.
Exhausted, she searched for a place she could find rest
"All beauty must die" the voice visited
her unceremoniously once more. "What do you want from me?
Is it wrong to be born beautiful? "
she asked, wondering where she got her courage from.
The energy to scream or run departed her,
the moment she saw a woman dressed in white,
levitating in the air, and moving towards her;
a horrid face that carried the night's darkness,
looked decayed, with worms crawling out from it.
Remember this is a true story about Emmie;
she gets chills just remembering the events of that night……
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes, By Diane Locksley
Poem Written by: Teddy Kimathi and Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The year 1890
December 29th
Wounded Knee, South Dakota
My tribe lost their lives
The USS 7th
On their orders so
To round up the Sioux
Railroad herd them and go
Us Lakota were next
To disarm their request
But my cousin Black Coyote
At best he was deaf
Not hearing the orders
To lay down our guns
A chain reaction
Ensued on my tribal ones
Chaos and mayhem
Distressed our grounds
This proud nation
Beaten down
Men, women and children
300 slain
Another reminder
For the white mans gain
To disrespect the fallen
Slows our souls to our gods
We were left in a blizzard
Hardened like logs
In three days we rose
Civilians did lift
And dumped us unceremoniously
In a hole in the drift
My corpse and my peoples
Stripped and robbed
As flakes of snow
Confirm our spirits have sobbed
As i am reborn again
In another country
It gives me the freedom
To look back and see
That December day in 1890
Gunning down innocent ones
Not so mighty
The Medal of Honor
In their distinguished past
The record still stands
On their chests they flash
But attitudes change
As two centuries pass
The Medal Of Honor
Has won back its class
No longer the weak
Gunned down by the strong
Its man against man
Sometimes they do wrong
So as i sit back in my adopted nation
Will i live again past this lives station
Writing the wrongs of modern man
This Lakota warrior who never ran
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php
Your arm wraps
around her shoulder.
She slips in—wears you
easily and steps in the place
that was our embrace
for eighteen years.
This looks so effortless for you.
Out of breath—
my life crosses the finish line
of a marathon-marriage to this
slow-motion, surreal, stream of pain.
Unsteady on my feet like a nervous bride,
my forevers and until death vows
unceremoniously fade..
Teardrops slipping, sliding, falling unceremoniously
Bruised and battered, this broken hearted agony.
Memories arise of the times gone before
When being in love with you held promises of something more.
Silently my world comes crashing again
Leaving a twisting, turning, searing pain.
Little did I imagine it would have turned out like this
A sudden end to all our Dreams of bliss...
Confused….
I don’t understand these words
That are said they pass through me
Right through my head
Sometimes I wish that it all would end
Just get it over I would just go around that bend
I’m not depressed
I’m just ready to give up
My life has been filled
Just like my cup
Oh well
Life just keeps coming
And people lying…
Form:
I'm not overly fond of receiving a family's annual gushing story,
In the form of a Christmas Letter stating that all is hunky-dory.
I received one the other day in which they told the honest truth,
And I'll relay its contents though of me it may be somewhat uncouth!
"My son Jimmy who was in the army gave a sergeant a lot of sass,
And was unceremoniously invited to leave the service by the army brass!
Daughter Sarah became in a 'family way' bringing me much disgrace.
The father of the kid left the state and of him there is not a trace!"
"Son Robert attempted to rob a bank and now languishes in jail.
The judged sentenced him to twenty years sans the benefit of bail.
My husband up and left me for that hussy waitress at Joe's Cafe.
That left me with little money, having to keep bill-collectors at bay!"
"My sister fell on hard times and moved in with her three little brats.
She also brought along three hounds, a nasty parrot and two hissing cats!
My trusty old 85 Chevy blew a rod and left me without wheels;
I can't afford another car because of outrageously high-priced deals!"
She goes on to say, "I hope all has gone well at your house this year.
As you can see, this past year ain't been one for me of great cheer!"
I appreciated her honesty but found her dismal plight quite appalling.
Her letter left me quite bereft and before you know it, I started bawling!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
I stay close to home these days,
my roaming needs seeming to
expire with age, finding more
of what I need in the Silence
of packing; of course, this
worn-out body is far too cumbersome
to even contemplate wanting – like
frayed clothing, now best for rags;
like empty cans for the recyclable:
I wonder how Earth will handle
my re-purposing?~as for my poetry,
will my works know future lips? Be
Whispered and sung, inspiring others
fancying fireside light and chat, within
the warmth of flickering, yet mysterious
shadows? Or will my words, unceremoniously
settle like bird droppings on tombstones,
surrounded by laurels of weeds, a forgotten
chapter? That settles it, I will opt for cremation!
Leaving tombstones and graves for
most politicians, TV Evangelists, and
Movie-stars, needing their world
monuments where the Devil will
easily find them for substantive
reunions....
Stung with the absence of his father, he excruciatingly rumbled deep inside of his mother’s womb.
He stormed out already filled with disappointing void.
The mother’s joy was of uncertainty.
Memories of her husband, flashed back right in her face once again.
She could feel the exhaustion of a lifetime encircled around her and the weight and magnanimity of raising the beautiful baby on her own.
Two years creeped by and the bond between them was legendary.
The love was so constant and consistent, like the sun will rise.
Their friendship thrived through the encroached stormy desert.
Her wings unfolded like an angel, extraordinarily patient as a lion hunting.
The fondness between them was as phenomenal as THE SERPENT GOD at chichen Itza, that he was unceremoniously detached from her.
A devastation of a 4-5 year old separation to a foreign land, felt like an erupted-never-ending-volcanic-nightmare.
The purpose of that crushing disconnection, was feeble.
he was starved off of food, shelter and raiment.
Apportioned milk from animals became the only privilege given.
The purest and cleanest form of consumed water, was of a residual of donkeys streamed through the shin of an old dirty black slave man.
An occasional feasting on birds, caught through invented-trapping.
With innocence, he’ll apathetically rip the head, feathers of the little creatures with bare hands, bury them in the sand of the mountain top desert, hours later, it’s BEANO.
He was deprived of even just a glimpse of his family for all those years, he wimped in loneliness.
And on a dark frightful night, came the growl of the famous fox, but he survived.
Life is fickle and comes without no warning and can’t be anticipated.
Survival can not be measured by *echoes* of preventions, it is destined and destiny is not always a gift.
The tale unfolds in hardship, a narrative woven through the threads of resilience and survival. The bond between mother and child, tested by separation, echoes the unpredictable journey of life—a journey marked by both strength and vulnerability.
(Dedication: For Dave Wood, the Lyric Man)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Teary moonlight
Flash from heaven;
Lovers unite
~~~~~~~~~
Teenage lover boy
Bus-stop waiting;
Delayed arrival
~~~~~~~~~
Nicotine addict
Puffing for dear life;
Carcinogenic highs
~~~~~~~~~
Grass blades
Protrude through cracks;
Sidewalk stone slabs
~~~~~~~~~
College vacation
Rowdy students arguing;
Monsoon weather hurls
~~~~~~~~~
Housefly fly past
Unceremoniously;
Decadent visit
~~~~~~~~~
Stars decorate
Night sky twinkling;
Croaking August frogs
~~~~~~~~~
Anxious To-Do List
Smudge of raindrops;
Go with the flow
~~~~~~~~~
Crazy poet laughs
Mad self-talk;
Intoxicating grief
~~~~~~~~~
Back track then
To nowhere far;
Celestial timing
~~~~~~~~~
Words carved
Old tree trunk code;
Open secret
~~~~~~~~~
Grassy flowers
Humble affirmations;
Perennial song
~~~~~~~~~
Stray voices call
In these woods;
Bird song melody
~~~~~~~~~
Romantic ideas
Dehydrated fruits;
Winter sonata
~~~~~~~~~
Self-made home movie
Unknown stars;
Awkwardly famous
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
15 August 2014
Singapore
I wish I was a family pet
Whose only needs are to be fed
And to unceremoniously
Relieve themselves in the park
I would of course be more discreet
Now about licking myself
In an effort to keep clean
Hmmm might draw the line there
Simply because I may injure myself
Trying to reach hard to get at regions
I guess I would prefer to be a dog
Cats are certainly more sophisticated
But full of their own importance
When most dog species
Are loveable and bowl you over with love
Hmmm now that I think about it
Apart from not having to wear a collar
Perhaps I'd rather remain a human
© Jack Ellison 2015
"Out to Sea"
In the immediate times
we rush to consume it all
before it is all swallowed, and out it all comes salty,
like an Ocean pummelling our crumbling sures
eating away our solidarity
insouciantly the sandy impermanent escarpment caves in
on our gossamer dissolving world
and in the eye of the storm
in the middle of it all
for a small moment all is calm
while the catastrophes move blithely around us,
hitting us brashly like we’ve been hit on a caffeine high
we are simultaneously aware of time standing still and then,
the swift pull of a rug unceremoniously out beneath our feet
some strange gravity slides
towards that ridiculous prophecised inevitability
of kingdoms come and gone
we thought we knew everything
the truth is we were the dumb awake
knowing little of everything
and much of what mattered little
and all as one
we are drowned soundly, gladly,
like into an open-eyed baptismal grave
we are forever and ever
naked as a child
washed clean
out to sea
Candide Diderot. ‘25
.One Summer Long ago
The wind played idly with white puffy clouds
The sun shining brightly against the loud blue sky
The horizon shimmered and danced . Islands of white ,dotted the Aegean Stretching away into shrouds of summer haze and misty beings
Waves crashed onto golden sands of deserted beaches Baked by the sun ,unmarked for eons
Whispering above the wind, siren songs lured weary bones to rest , as billowy white sails float along to the west The great long oars sweeping the painted faces of warships majestically making their way among long forgotten places
Dusty footprints in the earth lead to visions of beasts, gods and beauty This is the land of which I will regale A young man of thirty , on a quest for adventure and tall tales
,a necklace adorned thy crown o mighty queen A pure reflection of peace and beauty ,a rare sight to be seen Now at war they seek your treasure , the lust for crown and glory And to the victor ,go the spoils
Our mighty warrior killed the queen as his pleasure
In drunken glory. He went back to war , and died for his sins
his lover grieving went back home to her kin, He to his lonely grave , and she accepting her fate Tossed the necklace into the sea as her heart learned to hate
recounted many times , written in poems buried by sands ,lost amidst the memories of long ago ,the map and all the treasure of their war the story of their lovers parting day Why she tossed it so unceremoniously into the bay Calling upon her Gods to protect and curse her secret of jewels from her death to her rebirth Cursed and forgotten The secret taken to her final bed
Generations apart, a legacy passed down in poem and song I, the younger son, took it upon myself to undo the wrong to recover and to keep ,the jewels hidden in the deep , And close the door for all time , this legend of diamonds ,sapphires and gold I would not rest till I conquered my goal, my mighty quest
Copyright © jim joyce | Year Posted 2
Face fractured with fear
As the Taxi drew near
The building was in the next street
" I'll drop you off here"
Said Steve full of cheer
(Annoyingly rather upbeat.)
As you pushed on the door
It's sticky hinge hissed
And you drew in your breath
At the scent of 'dentist'
"Youre a little late" the lady said
Do you live somewhere rural ?
You swigged on your hip flask
Looked her right in the eye, saying
"Just get me an epidural."
"Now now Mrs Phillips
You'll be just fine "
Said the lady so white and starched
And into the chamber of old magazines,
You were unceremoniously marched.
With Your heart like a piston
And blood pressure soaring
(Even " Horse and Hound" seemed
Tired and boring )
Lulled by a clock counting out every second,
Till you started with fright
As a dental nurse beckoned ...
"Please don't worry, don't be so tense "
Said Helga ( on work experience )
And then with sinister gravity
Said "We'll take care of that cavity "
"Hello" boomed a voice from the back of the room,
I'm here to do your extraction. I've done them before so no need to shake,
Look at me if you need a distraction "
"This won't take a second, it's all pretty simple
Just a couple of jabs and we're there "
So first with your right fist and then with your left,
He was out cold, on the floor, by your chair.
You ripped off your bib, took a swig of the pink
And suddenly feeling much better,
You lunged for the door and ran down the stairs
As fast as a sprightly red setter.
You ran to a sweet shop and asked for some toffee
"Give me the chewiest stuff that you've got"
"Sure said the assistant , this one's from Yorkshire
And here, you can have the lot "
You took of the wrappers and stuffed it all in
Then chewed like a donkey on acid
And in a few seconds, the tooth that was hurting
Left a hole as big as Lake Placid.
So what is the moral
I hear you all ask
Of this tale both of triumph and sorrow ?
Well forget your insurance, leave your cheque book at home,
Just unwrap and chew on a toffo
"Futile Fragments" ( A collaboration~ Linda-Marie P.S. sweetheart )
by~ LINDA MARIE *p.s. SWEETHEART
shattered to inner core emotions reside in vogue
as tattered tapestry etches death to vibrant vase
egotistical desires ejected common sense to rogue
fine ... adieu ... departure in the misty vague haze ...
fragmented fragile pieces exploded with destruction
simulation created to ebony volcanic ash
love vacated unceremoniously scans of interruption
emotions sustain tremors of immature backlash ...
enchanting charms reflecting the pain of sheer intense
to resurrect romance is a haunting dream of death
provoking passions escalate chaos ... havoc ... suspense
suffocation dwelling to captivate life's bated breath ...
bittersweet faded memories succumb to shadowed jest ...
by~ POET D:
Moshing fragments overlooked, a darker dance limitless
conventional Gothic hearings..... praising the sewer that runs
analysis running ticking with the passion of an atomic bomb
the perceived exotic unity of this frightens world~ shadow dust
lashing out tropical grasses and utilities . . . tampering every hell
Burning paper that represents hostile . . . black ashes
results of a detailed creature mourning the abyss
examination of falsification~ fragments that crawl in our inner walls
A poisonous micro-fragment is presented approaching
objective with the exploration of breakage . . . virus. . . patterns
meaning destroying every awakening stage in this bio world *via~ wide
Deep identification losing all Revelations,
Laughing fading away with the criteria formed
must we ~ need us~ crawling in my inner walls. . .
use me ~ need me~ feed me~ critically re-evaluate me . . .
A Collaboration with * Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of Poetry Soup RIP
~A Poet Destroyer COLLABORATION~
Computers can absolutely drive us to drink
It's programmed into their memory
Just when we think things are all hunky dory
It lets us down unceremoniously
To frustrate us more we even lose some data
Though we often hit “command/save”
But wouldn't you know it this was the exception
To these monsters we're truly enslaved
The damn things treats us like a piece of crap
I'm sure there are gremlins inside
Trying to turn us into some raving maniacs
Delight when they see us cry
Can't live with them, can't live without them
They've got us by those short curlicues
It's almost like they enjoy watching us struggle
But give in we absolutely refuse
They can drive us to drink, a bloody caesar
Every single night before bed
Oh for the days before technology reigned
When people ruled the world instead
© Jack Ellison 2015