It is summer,
and the umbrella men
are selling hotdogs.
A good-looking priest
enters Saint Pat's,
gangly girls giggle,
then make the sign of the cross.
Thursday is All-You-Can-Eat pizza day,
the joints will be too crowded,
the slices rushed out, slapped down
way to early or late.
Office workers flock
from the second floors of everywhere,
huddle shoulder to shoulder,
to spread rumors,
then return to gaze at desktop
computer games
or TikTok –
**** is a compensatory privilege
of the under paid.
The year hurries on,
rats scurry behind neon facades.
Downtown is slip-sliding,
it used to be a place to get noticed,
a gated area for outdoor passions.
Modest ladies now
hold the hem of their skirts down,
and not because
of any up-lifting wind.
Dope is in the air,
thieves hustle to get their share.
Tourists meander dazed,
as the stark exposure of the city
tramples over them.
Winter bites its chill tongue.
Come December’s last glittering moments,
that glass ball will hang by
the thinnest of threads.
~~~~~~~~~~~
(new edit)
Categories:
compensatory, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Take society’s attitude
Towards indifference as given
Although women abhor gratitude
For societal foibles forgiven
In the face of the Christian faith
That burns within a woman’s soul
When Providence breath
Scores a salutary goal
In consonance with the motto
One cheek slapped, the other cheek slapped
In a pilgrimage grotto
Where 2Pac rapped
All eyes on me
As though a woman were leper
Society loved to hate with glee
Alongside a pauper with no caper
To boast of
In the sight of men
Who grudgingly brandish love
As an inducement to women
Treated with contempt
Used, oppressed, dumped
In a haughty attempt
To get machismo start-jumped
In the full bloom of the sickness and ugliness
That womanhood suffers
In huge doses of humiliation and sadness
With no compensatory offers
For remorse unfelt
Hair tousled and unkempt
Expectations raised and unmet
In an egregious event and attempt
To gloss over injustices
Unleashed on the fairer gender
In equinoxes and solstices
That demand women’s surrender
Although the new millennium
Demands fairness
In the cranium and premium
For women’s unstinting happiness with boldness.
Categories:
compensatory, poems,
Form: Free verse
Wherever I would go out to
A workplace or the market
I must put my pen
In the shirt's breast pocket
Mostly a sparkling fountain pen
Though nobody uses them now
I have a collection of at least twenty
None I will part with, everyday I would vow
You are like your grandson
My friends would humorously point out
If someone pretends to take away his toy car
He would refuse angrily and shout
That day at about eleven
I had been to a bank branch for a fixed deposit
Would you mind giving me your pen
Showing the form I asked a friend, just to fill it
All eyebrows rose in surprise
As if I was a creature from a different planet
Never could I surmise, however,
It was because of the golden pen in the pocket
How could I tell them
It was a Parker with no ink in it
A compensatory stratagem
I would frequently repeat
I rushed out of the place
Sweating profusely till I reached home
And sometime later with a gel pen
Got engaged in the poetry syndrome
_________________________________________
February 9, 2018
For the Quirks - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by : Madison Demetros
Categories:
compensatory, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
Homunculus
you thought it would stay in one place
adopt a contented pose
lounge languidly by the fire without complaint
nor ask for more than could be given
little did you know this thing
had a mind of its own
and was after all
you call your own
soon you were working for it
meeting its capricious demands
with no compensatory gratuities
stated or implied
-- an ad hoc arrangement
made on its terms
not yours --
other possibilities were pursued
to no advantage
most were closed to further inquiry
the homunculus clung to the web it wove
spun round a routine that met his demands
along with a free lunch that was not discussed
now you’re out the door
on the street
looking back at a brightly-lit room
where visions of poignant scenes
fade into misty shadows
David Sermersheim
Categories:
compensatory, poetry,
Form: Free verse