Best Wear Away Poems
you wear away at me with your silence
not with whetted words
or physical altercations
there are no recriminations
No...
it's much more corrosive than all of that
this is the sad fact
apathy barbed in neglect
is the tool that you use
not aware it's abuse
how it scrapes and it grinds
determined not to leave anything behind
day after day
night after night
year after year
till the memory
of who I was dissapears
a little bit more every day
you wear me away
voiceless, I fade
silent in your silent tirade
only pebbles remain
of a once templed soul
and with a little more time
pulverized,
they blow away...
by the constant silent howling
of your loveless heart
Eileen Manassian
Even Rocks Can Cry
Even rocks wear away with time
and the demands of strength. These
seemingly immoveable objects,
deflectors of life’s raging torrents,
sun warmed seats of contemplation,
bearers of past high and low water marks.
Unnoticed, they sit as observers, watching
as time passes through their moment,
aware, yet unaware, of the softening of
edges, the smoothing of an old, once
craggy face, resigned to the river’s
changing moods, the wind’s cold chaffing,
the sun’s yellow soothing, the moon’s cool
silver chill and the cleansing joy of
a spring rain. Yes, these rocks, these
anchors, depended on for guidance,
for protection, for the memory of
the splashing joy of youth. These rocks
when left too long grow lonely,
shed an unseen tear. For even rocks
can cry.
2/17/2014 --125 words
Ephemeral
Tis not mystifying, though disheartening,
that we are simply passing shadows
…. a mere breath exhaled…. transitory
Sunrises numbered at first drawn breath
though each stand of hair is lovingly counted
A lone flower in a field of waving grass
will pass unnoticed, once flourished.
The wind becoming the only witness,
to its existence, as its scent is carried
across the meadow....fragrance dissipating
Swift waters of life slowly-- but surely--
wear away our most precious of stones
their features gently altered with time
until the final last grain deteriorates
finding rest, peacefully, on a distant shore
NOTE: This poem was inspired by the book of Psalms as well as Nature and MY FAITH.
It only takes a few years gone
for everyone to forget that song;
though often later generations
will not keep their venerations
of cherished family now long past,
faint memories die off real fast!
Faces lost, even distant laugh,
if not captured in photograph;
portraits peel and fade away
unless in museum they do stay,
and even when on wall they bask,
most future viewers often ask
“Who is that person? Who were they?
Were they important in their day?”
Statuary might be concrete,
memoirs can be indiscreet,
tombstones often wear away,
nothing on Earth can long stay;
we return to dust, one in the same
while only few win lasting fame.
The sky turned stygian grey, violent winds blew.
From above, tears of liquid grief poured down.
Flood waters rose, pressure got built under the soil.
The earth erupted with rocks and buildings,
Coming down with a deadening sound, not once
But thrice in the wee hours of the night.
After the day’s hard toil, those who lay down to sleep,
Were swept away without a moment’s notice.
Two populous villages with hundreds of houses,
And public buildings vanished out of sight in seconds!
A landslide of horrendous magnitude came,
Shrieking like a fiendish banshee....
Sweeping away habitations and the belongings.
In the place of lush green vegetation and towering trees,
Nothing remains but a heap of rocks, stones and debris.
Their voices are forever stilled, their dreams, shattered,
Those who survived the tragedy face the greatest trauma.
With sobbing hearts and a vacant stare, they search,
For the dear ones missing, a grief hard to bear.
The sight of pet dogs sniffing for their masters
Under the slush and debris is so heartrending!
***** ***** ***** ****** *****
After two days, the pouring rain stopped, the sky became clear
Now the earth lies in dreadful silence like a graveyard.
The rubble lies heaped where homes and buildings once stood
Help is pouring in from all quarters of the country.
The initial shock has begun to wear away as reality has set in.
The dreadful numbness gives way as grief takes hold
People sober up from the initial shock and get ready
To have a foothold, knowing well that long nights are ahead.
Reeling minds with no balance, now regain some equilibrium.
With cautious steps through the ruins, they plod with resilience.
The affected people and volunteers work in unity,
To regain what has been lost, though it is a herculean task,
To darn and repair the torn land to make it fit for living.
Man has an ability to sober up and emerge like phoenix,
From the pit of ashes, healing, mending and finding his way.
I know love with you...
The sea in violent wave
will not submerge our hearts,
The fires of fast fury
cannot finish the poetry of our tender touch,
The gales that gust grimly
will not wear away the warmth of our eyes,
The stubborn earth in it's shifts
shall not quake and crumble the structure of our love's monument...
Dedicated to my Love Muse...the future knows our pulse...
J.A.B.
Pride is a motivator, a stimulator of scarlet soul
an accelerator to the next glorious goal
generator of newcoming awakening
cultivator out cunning the unkind
cutting away all the doubts and flouts, leaving the babel and rabble behind,
a slayer of beasts and witches,
pulverizer of all that threatens my wishes,
Pride is an educator, a teacher whom need not flatter
or conspire to push passion higher,
a preacher promisin that you can be better than you thought you were,
transformer from the mediocre to a raw reformer
makin my heart the perfect love performer
romanticizer of the love battles that my Lady and I thunder
reinforcer of our durable dreams, encourager for our beautiful hunger,
Pride has weather, moving me to smile at the wind and bear the barbs of error,
an innovator of my instincts, reflector of bleeding color
It compells me to be a competitor, a finisher, and a star runner,
my blessings won't bow to humble hoaxes
my talent cannot tolerate the tamming of tragedies
my courage will not cower with the false virtue of humble hypnotism
ain't no way a honkeytonk humbler gonna wear away my sway,
my faith will not stumble upon the stones of humble wastelands,
I wasn't born to walk with humble eyes,
I'm alive to thrive with a sacred strive,
in pride I hear the voice of my Creator say, be great or die!
J.A.B.
Fear not the storms that pass in the night,
for at morning's light only rain remains;
but those that linger in the minds of men,
Gaining strength with no grounding to calm them.
Shun not the rotted fruit, long picked from the vine,
for it's wine is the sweetest on the lips;
but the rotted heart that lies in waste
makes bitter the good that get too close.
Love not the beauty of paint and fine linen,
for it will fade and wear away;
but the beauty from deep within
stays sweet, sheltered from the storm.
Fluid soft moist and gentle
Drops of water over time
Can dissolve and wear away
The hardest rock to fade
And decay.
Just as an acid damning tongue
That derives pleasure
From causing emotional pain
And robbing a sensitive soul
If self esteem confidence
And living a fruitful life
Holding them back again and again.
Young minds are fertile
And can believe everything they are told
Burning self hate and apathy
In heart mind and soul.
Like a Bonzi tree with restricted growth
The control freak clips away
At the helpless
Brain washed In disarray.
Propaganda be the deadliest weapon.
Known to man
It can bring down a nation
Like the Nazi's did
Fulling hate
Or build a nation up
and make that nation great.
The box we have in all our homes
That we waych
Gives us subliminal messages
While in a semi hypnotic state
Be careful what you watch today
And may your heart be full of love and not hate.
And so tour children.
Peter Dome.copyright.2015. June.
A limply stood yellow white sunflower,
What can he do except to stare?
A boldly stood yellow white sunflower
What can he do except to dare?
A sunflower embedded under an iron boulder
May him question the meaning of life and death
Who cares of his cold shoulders?
For they soon slip back into his fallen breath,
Roughly crushed by his guilt.
The sunflower embedded under an iron boulder
May him spear through with unharmed shoulders
Who cares of his grotesque pains and scars?
For they soon wear away to his golden stars,
Gently caressed by his sun.
The sands of time wear away
Like the grains of gold slowly trickling down
Falling from the heavens, or so it seems
The sands of time are neither good nor evil
For they are merely fair and just
Never swaying or bending to our commands
The sands of time continue to trickle, one by one
Like how our days on this earth are numbered
And soon the time will come,
That the sands of time will finally cease to fall
And all that is left is
The pile of golden grains, the remnants of
Our memories.
Our mistakes.
Our love.
I was happy with my parents’ efforts
I carried my degree high
Running home in graduation gown
My siblings lifted me high
My eyes watered with tears of joy
All who came thought I was light
Lit to light the darkness in the village
But I didn’t know it was a cursed flower
My heart grew weary each time I was ignored
The sole of my feet began to wear away
My foes developed swollen cheeks
And carried this balloon around the village
Every night that came went and left me
Sleepless and thoughtful into another day
This paper which people say is light
Has become a curse because I am nothing
I seek to love You for Yourself,
not for the profit I will gain;
if prison walls are all I know,
my love should grow and never wane.
Within myself I have not strength
to love You, Lord, the way I ought;
but if I yield my all to Thee
then You can do what I could not.
I love You, Lord, no more than I
love those who closely share my life;
and if at them I take offense
or pleasure find in any strife,
I have not learned to love at all.
So often I have failed the test
when most I thought I really loved;
Lord, I would learn Your way is best.
I must have You! Oh, more and more,
I need Your presence in my heart;
I cannot have too much of You!
It seems I've just begun to start
to know the fullness of Your life.
Your way of love is far too high
for my poor heart to comprehend.
I need Your love; my love must die.
So love Yourself, my God, through me,
and may my life a channel be
where love in rivers, calm and clear,
Flows on in true simplicity.
Cut deep the gorge within my heart;
the stony contents wear away.
let fountains of Your love and joy
burst forth and brighten someone's way.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, 1987
Many, many years ago,
I was told and taught
That helping people is a considerate thought.
But there is something else to know.
Ungrateful people are of a sort
Rewarding generosity with a shattering blow,
And quite happily taking a friend for a foe.
But who would have thought?
It won’t worry them to get me caught
In trouble or fraught
And they are not slow
To show how ignorant they grow.
Now, I really wish to say to this lot
That my opinion of them is very low.
But words keep sticking in my throat.
And I just let things go.
May be one day
Shyness will wear away
And I’ll be able to say
To these people: “Please, go away!”
just like life tests a man
water will wear away the stone -
I'm polishing the line