I have nothing bad to say to those who die young
It’s no fault of theirs
For in old age they may have foreseen a life so
Burdensome, so demanding, so tiring and so wizened,
With their cute faces eventually lost to the freshness
Of beauty, raw or enhanced.
Imagine wiry, annoying smuts christened grey hair —weeds
On a gold field!
And with “Don’t eat this, don’t drink that.
They are not good for your age.
The time has passed when they would have done your
Body no harm,” rammed into their youthful ears by
Loquacious physicians.
Oh, God!
No!
They had heard enough!
They had seen enough!
So they decide to bow out early, before
It’s all too late, and rainy.
For them, it’s better too soon, with the gurgling
Blood of youth in them, and sunny, than too late, with the
Crinkling bones of senectitude.
Oh, to Hell with sageness!
No gold, no jewels, no soft velvet bed
Just a halo of fire around my cold head
A crown of flames that’s scorching hot red
In shades of blood these hands have now shed
I wander in the valley that shadows have led
Where the weary broken souls have solemnly fled
‘Walk the beaten path’ is what they always said
But I set the path ablaze and let the fire spread
I’m a feral animal that cannot be tamed
And you won’t ever see me bow out in shame
Cuz I’ve been ignited and I can’t be contained
So burn me at the stake if you can’t stand my name
Let me get out of New York
Bags are packed
Deportation fact
It’s time to leave
People of New York, don’t be deceived
I stood for come and all
It now is no more
Leaving the New York City shore
Enough is enough for sure
Getting out while I can
If I was deported, I would probably be sent to France
Fat chance
Hudson River is my escape to my own new world
History was
The Statue that was of the people
Constitution said
Fulfilled for years
Bags, we got a journey
The statue will now be cut down to a skeleton
Quickly leaving town
People beware
Embrace one another with care
It’s freedom for me
I can’t wait and see
Run Ms. Liberty Run.
Scatterbrain, I refrain from learning, yearn for better days.
But alas, I feel dumb and dull, like unused clay.
Refusing to mould into something you desire.
If only you knew the struggle I bear, all you do is point and stare, I do declare that this worlds just unfair.
With each shame and blame, I regress in my fight.
With each shame and blame, I regress in my murk filled mind.
Just a dark grey cloud debating aloud in the night.
I scratch and I claw, amidst living yet dead.
Fearing the glares that leave me filled with dread.
Pointing and poking, awaiting for my fall.
Hoping i bow out in disgrace to it all.
My inner demons whisper cruel, careless words.
Berating my spirit, leaving me unheard.
Yet here I lie awake, seeking a break, from this scatter brain maze that
makes my heat ache.
Searching for peace in the chaos I've spun.
Yearning for light, for the battle to be won.
The little linger, the wee wee wait-a-while,
says it all wordlessly, unwieldy:
"The momentary pause is pregnant!"
with distinct possibilities of a bow-out clause.
I can see and smell the stench of doubt
as you look away,
breaking our eye-to-eye contact.
That tiny delay is your way of saying it,
without saying it in words.
You, the soothsayer-in-silence bleats:
"The momentary pause is pregnant!"
Listen!
Where fruits and flower trees they fell,
And safeguard thorny trees so well;
Peacocks, swans and cuckoos are killed,
Crows are offered a safety shield;
Tusks and donkeys as alike scaled,
Camphor equal with cotton held;
Where such a logic holds its clout,
From such a land let me bow out.
_________________________
Translation |18.08.2024| rhyme, people, trees
The Sanskrit verse:
chhedah chandana-choota-champaka vane rakshaa api shaakhotake,
himsaa hamsa-mayoora-kokila kule kaakeshu nitya-aadarah |
maatangena khara-krayah sama-tulaa karpoora-kaarpaasayoh,
eshaa yatra vichaaranaa gunigane deshaaya tasmai namah ||
In the sanctuary of Religion,
the choices are usually clearly
drawn relative to good and evil.
It is up to us to choose.
In the area of Business, especially when
our demands are crucial, the choices
can sometimes be shady and scamming.
Sometimes, regardless, we have to choose.
In the arena of Politics, there may or may
not be choices of good and evil. Both may be
evil, and we do not have the option to bow out.
We only have the obligation to make our choices.
062424PS
Taking my time through the struggles I face
Trying hard not to bow out in disgrace
Thinking how can I still win this race
Time keeps coming at me
While I try to stay free
Looking ahead
Time gets me down Instead
Fighting my demons inside
The pain and confusion I can barely hide
Times I gave up and cried
Sat there on the ground
Cried without a sound
Thought I couldn't go on so long
Was wrong
So many a time
Couldn't make sense out of lifes little rhyme
Love, lifes only crime
The battlefield, my mind
Nothing left there to find
Writing my pain
Keeping it plain
For all to see
Nothing is free
All them good things that be
Come and go
Just so you know
What do I see
What was left behind was me
The stain
In my brain
No reason to cry
Life never tells you why
Then you die
Time keeps on going
Your stain keeps on growing
I don't know
I forgot to grow
Does it show
A sky like fire
As the sun rises higher
Burning away the last of the night
This fire burning so bright
The day is now awake
The sun starts to bake
Warms away the night chill
Strengthens my will
To face the new day
As I make my way
Through life's many struggles one will face
Throughout lifes race
Don't bow out in disgrace
Doesn't matter the trials
Just hold on to the smiles
Sometimes your sad
Sometimes glad
But tomorrow
In the land of no sorrow
One day
I pray
I'll find it somewhere inside
Love will no longer hide
But in all hearts, abide
Everyone will care
Share
Be there
Sharing this beautiful sunrise beside me
Something so beautiful for all to see
This prison I know so well
For I've been here before
When all I can do so well
Is stay up all the way till four
When the gate would just no longer open
After several times of opening and closing
That it would just be hard to keep them open
Any longer without the walls shaking
This stare I know so well
It says go on some more
It puts you in some sort of spell
And you find yourself saying one more
When all you can do is rock back and forth
Tapping depths of the waters so that they splash
While eyes are closed, hands clasped to the sheets with wrath
For once the waters reach high level out they'll wash
This is a pause I know so well
It comes before the tap out
When you know you've done so well
That all you need now is final bow out
When you all sweaty and out of breath
For you've been rowing this boat
And you've not had time to catch your breath
Cause the tides were strong you had to keep rowing the boat
The PO£T
When the rain is pouring down
When life gets turned around
I don't feel desire to go on no more
When life brings me to the floor
Then I look into your eyes again
I feel like I might just win
I feel I can face it all
And I can still stand tall
When sometimes I wonder if I'm going to slow
my body it starts feeling so low
When its all I can do to make it through the day
I feel like there's no time to play
Then I look into your eyes again
I feel I might just win
I feel I can face it all
And I can still stand tall
The world starts slowly getting to me
When bad things are all I can see
I start feeling I'm finally beat
I want to bow out and take a seat
I just have to look into your eyes again
And I see how lucky I've been
I know I can stand and face it all
With you I know I can still stand tall
I just have to look into your eyes again
To know just how lucky I have been
With you I can stand up and face it all
Beside you I will always stand tall
An applecart of half-eaten ideas
pushed into sight by heavyweight ghosts.
Wormwood and cider
the aroma of root beer in a lit-up air.
The poet pauses….judges the hunger
of his next line
to fulfill the wishes of finger-following gods.
Orchard trees separate, bow out of the crowd
to stand alone in the spaces between the words.
Sandalwood is harvested for the coming cremation,
the fire tongs are white hot
as they pluck burning fruit
out of the furnace of an Archean Ur
where the charred apples find grazing mouths
Nature mulches in the churning
now the apple is in the maggot
ready to sour or delight.
Wool gathering shepherds guide their flocks
from the pulverizing organs
of creation
into valleys of dark and light.
I am afraid of clowns someone said.
No one laughed.
It was a serious poker game.
Chuckie glared in my direction.
I had not noticed Freddie or Jason yet.
Concentrating so hard on my cards.
When I looked up I tried to bow out.
But I was held in place.
An invisible force controlled me.
A dementor was here!
I was his puppet.
I wished I knew where my invisibility cloak was.
Dracula and the werewolf began salivating.
I knew I was in big trouble now.
When the chips are down
Men are separated from boys
Quitters fall by the way side
While perennial winners
Seize the day and be counted
For that is the essence of life
Life is a live show
It is for a short season
It is time to show the stuff
One is made of
And bow out as the ovation
Reaches its crescendo
Life is for the living
Take it one day at a time
Everyday as if it were the last
Cause the ultimate leveler
Strikes when you least expect it
stars revere the rising sun and bow out of sight,
refractory shadows lift, revealing rays of light,
illuminating, misty, ruffled, canopies on trees,
rippling waters humming, in the gentle morning breeze,
sacred song birds, fill the air, in a choral litany,
beneath a dome, a colorful horizon, splattered vividly.
Date: July 27, 2022
For: Bite Size Poem No.50 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
No placement
Sub Categories
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