Best Uneventful Poems
‘Twas the night before Christmas,
and once in my bed,
no visions of anything
danced in my head.
The night – uneventful -
no kids bothered me.
No sound of small feet
rushing out to the tree!
My husband lay snoring
at least until ten.
I put on some TV
just waiting for when
my daughter, her spouse,
and their kids (older now)
would show up for dinner -
the meat from a cow!
No turkey, no ham.
I much prefer beef.
My son-in-law’s vegan.
I’d feed him a leaf.
There’s not much unwrapping
of gifts any more.
It’s more likely gift cards
that teens all adore.
Gift cards for movies
or things at some store
and inside of envelops,
money galore.
Gone are the days
of wrapping all night
toys for the kiddies,
and I guess that’s all right.
It sure took forever
to have to exert
energy wrapping. . .
it made my back hurt!
But in a few years,
wee girls and wee boys
(great-grand-kids) I’ll see
ripping wrapping off toys!
Dec. 2, 2019 for Joseph May's the 'The Night Before 2' Poetry Contest
I sense and feel mystique of its appeal
In vibrant, verdant, blossoming spring,
Splendorous prairies undulating breeze,
Resplendent falling of autumnal leaves,
Glacial winds bemoaning a frozen sigh,
A cerulean terpsichore of ocean tides~
I sense and feel, yet can’t cage its wings.
Purposeful, evocative, musings unwind
When elixir of missives invigorates mind
In tears of joy glittering mother’s eyes,
Holding hand of father, an innocent smile,
Hungry bawls tearing impoverished lands,
Cheers echoing hopes of clapping hands,
Grievous calls unleashed by fate unkind,
An uneventful existence berating its grind.
Though I pretend to reign world of words
And impute resonance to songs of birds
And conjure kisses from lovelorn woes
And dare personifying feelings of stone,
I struggle in thoughts to stage my show
Striving to rhyme verses stubbornly prose
Dawdling daydreams of poetic meadows
Attributing forms to shapeless shadows
Clueless of the exit from wordless throes.
Ah! dear reader, the poet in you knows,
Much alike an eagle boundless in freedom
Flight of artistry I’m unable to control,
Passions of its symphony, I do not own,
Depth of its ocean shall remain unknown.
August 12, 2021
© Charles H Keys, 2011. All Rights Reserved
Talking anxiously to myself,
Thoughts fresh of the new,
Some deliberate, others not,
Thoughts old and forgotten,
Mostly familiar or so it appears.
Still wondering why
Am I here? Or maybe not.
Is not the grass still green?
And the snow ... white and cold,
Where is this said?
What awaits me down the road?
Empty fascinations with token vague memories of yore
... lost,
Maybe forever, so meaninglessly insignificant
Here am I for what?
There has to be God or
Why else can I be,
If not to taste fresh air
To soar as an eagle - free, unattached into wherever,
Alone, asphyxiated from man-made constraints.
The aroma of fresh baked bread,
Life awakened life to be lived
The beauty of it all, so green and blue
Warm and cool sunned by our creator
Life lived inside and out.
I thirst for inner quiescence,
Beyond the realm of the mundane and the lost,
Far from the useless and
... the hurt from the heartless, of so many so often,
A universe of everything that is ... in harmony.
A Pauper I am, a Prince I am not, tethered,
Mesmerized in the day-to-day nothingness,
Unsatisfied with the uneventful
I am here, pleading for answers
Of life’s painful purposeful ignorance of each other.
These are the days uncertainty is in our midst
although folks often claim ignorance is bliss
often these folks tend to wear rose colored glasses
ignoring the signs and the breaking news flashes
While other's shake their heads and ask why
as they digest the news while choking on Mom's apple pie
wondering whatever happened to the good old days
when everything was black and white with very few greys
These days have definitely become more stressful
with the headline news being anything but uneventful
with terrorism and shootings becoming the new norm
you wonder is this just the calm before the storm
Death and taxes have always been sure and inevitable
as was all our liberties due to our great preamble
but these days I feel they're slowly being compromised
as I gaze at my American flag blowing in the wind outside.
6-5-18
To you oh fates I pray a short but eventful life to live than a long uneventful one to enjoy!
(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
07 October 2016
can you imagine yourself a young girl from Nighastan?
who is thirteen, and never stepped foot in regular school?
toiling day and night, taking care of siblings and housework,
her smile reminds of fresh-bloomed rose, no cameras capture.
can you imagine yourself a young boy from Labonga,
works in a factory for hours and hours since he was eight?
he is still respectful and humble, polite and thankful,
happy as a lark if sometimes he gets to fly a kite.
wish we were supremely gorgeous princes and princesses,
wearing sparkling gucci outfits, flying in private jets -
(talking how to support the poverty-stricken third world)
we watch their lavish weddings, their destination travels,
and secretly sigh for extravagant life we don't have!
met some of those amazingly courageous boys and girls,
who do not complain about their uneventful tough lives,
they accept their hardest journey with humble compliance -
thank god sincerely for their meager plainest possessions!
I imagine - if I had the power to change the world,
I would make their world blissful. surrounded by purest joy,
I would hold her dainty hand, and pore over fairy tales,
I would run without bounds in the open field with the boy.
those children would teach me to be grateful with simplest things,
and to smile joyful smile which nobody can ever snatch.
Poet's Notes: The poem is written on the model of Shakesperean sonnet (14 syllables in each line - exception being there are four Quatrains instead of three).
January 23, 2021
For "Can You Imagine" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
From way up high looking down on Earth
Living up on some clouds to the west
Is my guardian angel watching over me
Not allowing hard times and unrest
Blessed with good fortune and a happy life
Pretty lucky when I hear people mutter
It hasn't been a popular trend among most
Yet my life's been smooth as butter
Makes me smile and I count my lucky stars
For this charmed and trouble free life
Relative calm and good fortune's been mine
Uneventful and free from strife
Must've done something to deserve this life
Once was kind to a little old lady
Helped her across a real busy intersection
It was just for a matter of safety
Humbly I accept this great honour with pride
Sure don't want to rock the boat
One day think I'll just sail off into the sunset
And be remembered by what I wrote
A funny thing happened on the way to heaven.
Of course I had been told about the Pearly Gates.
I had lived my life until eighty and seven,
And had always been aware of the choice of fates.
My death had been uneventful as those things go -
The funeral pleasant, the right amount of tears
Fell from the downcast eyes of those who loved me so.
My soul smiled a smile as I recalled all those years.
The transition was seamless as I used to say.
They laid my remains in a very simple grave
As my soul felt relieved and headed on its way.
I walked a worn path and never turned back to wave.
In short order I came upon two golden poles
That marked the main entrance to the heavenly zones.
Outside to the left stood about a million souls -
To the right rose a mountain of their own smart phones.
They carried signs saying."Even Hell has cell towers!"
And,"Eternity is long - we demand cell phones."
They gave no hint they understood God's powers,
And were concentrating on hearing their bell tones.
So there they were, Saints in an unending protest
As I walked on past thinking of the Golden Rule.
I did not judge them as maybe they did know best -
But I thanked the Lord that he had made me "old school."
6-26-18
For contest A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To _____, for Robert Haigh
A MOMENT IN LIFE
Tears filled my eyes, as my heart riveted with pain
As I watch your body lay there lifeless
Jokingly you say its okay I’ll be fine
The question I often asked GOD, why
Our Childhood memories, the moments spent, times we shared
In a split second our journey together would suddenly come to a halt
Your presence diminish you are now gone from this world
Never was there a dull moment, never a sad day
You brought me laughter, joy smiles filled with cheer
Words of wisdom, willingness of heart, words of courage, words of faith
A priceless treasure that can never be replaced
You saw in me what I could never understood or envisioned
A world filled of opportunity, a world ready to be explored
I vividly remember you say this journey we called life ,
Has unexpected moments, uneventful happenings
Still the storms, ride the waves, through every road of challenges
Greater I am, Wiser I Become
(This poem I wrote because I lost my sister March this year at the age of 36)
Black Birds
Congregating
In the dead of night
Stealthy midnight chatter
outside my window pane
No singing to my ears
Just constant rain
Thunder crackling
The children have left
Just the plots
And leaves scurrying
the wind swirling
Upwards almost
Telling me look up
Refusing I tell myself
It can't be
just hallucinations
The oval mirror where
She would stand naked
Brushing her long Blond
Waist length hair
Dripping wet her supple
Body yearning calling me
I wouldn't come
wouldn't move
just a Mirage a dream
Nightmarish I'd say
I remember her though
Singing softly to me
The children all five
All girls all gone
She lays in state on a
Lily and rose Laden
mattress sunken in
Scented silk now
Moldy and musty
Cobweb silkscreens
Adorne her
I still try to talk
She doesn't answer
I'm alone
Wasting away
Skeletonized
In this room
So much gloom
Your not here
To share in
My uneventful doom
Lurking shadows
Closets and halls
Faceless lovers
Pictures hang
on walls
Your not here
Just your Soulless body
You left me behind
brokenhearted
Alone so long ago
Glock in hand
And mind in
Transient state
Waiting staring
At 12 dead roses
Near the grey
Antiquated
Corner stone
All alone...
neither great nor small
steady as she goes
commonplace
unremarkable
a good sort
uneventful
everyday
quotidian
mundane
average
normal
boring
stable
safe
me
myself
I
The Darkness, the Delirium, living a life of Sorrow
From the eons of Yesterday, through the eons of Tomorrow
The Hell I live in, the Hell that envelopes my Soul
The anguish of lost LOVE, beating on the rocky Shoal
The loneliness of an uneventful loss of Forever Love
The Hatred in my Heart, for the Living GOD : Above
To be Cont. upon request
BARBARA JEAN I LOVE YOU
SHE DRIVES ME UP THE WALL
She drives me up the wall like a slave-driver
O yes, she does ! but even though she may wield
the rod in her hand ever so threateningly at me
At the slightest suspicion of insubordination,
Leaving me cowering with fear, I love her just the same,
Perhaps much more than I ‘ve ever loved anybody else before!
I may ‘ve become certifiable as a result, who knows,
But whatever the case may be,
pray don’t judge me harshly until you ‘ve heard me out.
I love her for the same farcical reason that Socrates
Ostensibly loved that cantankerous woman Xantippe.
By temperament and upbringing, I find a woman who
Stands up to a man much more appealing than one
Who’s obsequious and complaisant!
What happened to me, therefore, was no accident but a
quantum leap; I had no control what so ever over the turn of events
That got us this far in our fledgling relationship.
Ever since I met her, my life, which had hitherto been
Fairly peaceful and uneventful, has, all of a sudden,
Taken a dramatic turn.
And like a minx, she has so turned my head around
I can’t tell for certain whether I am coming or I am going!
Suffice to say I’ve been acting up silly and rather foolishly
For a grown up person (I don’t know whether or not I still
Have any semblance of an ego left, what with this
Attractive je ne sais quoi I find so irresistible about her!)
Oh no, don’t tell me I’ve been doing this all for the
Wrong reasons ! or that I am laying it on thick.
It’s only me who knows exactly what I am feeling.
Besides, I am not talking morals here, I am talking
About what it feels like to love somebody to a fault.
If she did walk out on me now I can guarantee you
That would certainly be the death of me!
I am sure that’s not what you would all like
To see happen to me just yet unless of course
You’ve been spoiling for my death while pretending to be my friends.
When all else is said and done, I’d rather be
Henpecked than let go of this maverick specimen of womankind
Who has lodged herself in my life uninvited,
Making it her home, and has since then never failed
To drive me up the wall like a slave-driver with her rod.
Not only is she good sport, but like a morning
Star she’s such fun to be with, I promise you!
OLIVER MUKEMU
Sometimes I want to scream
“This is not me!"
But then who would I be
Without these reflections
Of the world outside
So I abide
In the lie of conformity
And do my best to ignore the enormity
Of the universe inside my head,
All the things I should have said,
All the mountains I could have climbed
But for fear
I have resigned
Myself to a life of uneventful safety
Forgoing the magic and majesty
Of living in flow
For a self-made cage of despair and regret
However…
My epitaph has not been written just yet
My grave is six feet too shallow
And I have no use for the myths of yesterday
Or tomorrow
Here is where I start
Now is when I spark
It is the hour of my birth
It tip-toes around
Or buzzes above
Its wings trailing behind
Like a bridal train
But unlike the bride
Walking towards new life
Your life is short and uneventful
In a few days
You will be dead.
As if you wish to deny your fate
You lift you bridal train
It transforms into a pair of wings
Which you spread towards the skies
And then you
Fly.
Minutes later you’re back
On the ground
Staggering around
Your beautiful train is gone
You were a hopeful bride
Now you’re a desolate widow
And your delicate gossamer wings
Lie next to you
Like a torn
Useless
Train
Beauty that was once your
Is no one’s.
In the last minutes of your life
I should like to think
That you’ll look back fondly
On your short
But glorious
Flight.