Deference Poems

Garden Whispers

Written: April 05/5/2025 for contest Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose

As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew  
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
 
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue 
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
 
                          ****************

In the quiet mysteries of the garden, where early blooms intertwine in view
time seemed shut down in deference to this serendipitous rendezvous
 
As petals plump, provide peaceful rhapsody revealing what butterflies drew  
brushstrokes on natural broad canvas, mauder whims in nexus hue  

The Conceit of Virtue

The truth accounts for a fiendish bill
But lies are sweet and lovely, still
Honorable tasks corrupt the will
The loyal betray for an easy thrill

Trust is a burden on brittle bones
Deceit makes light of painful groans
Faith declared: knees bend on stones! 
While pious deniers sit on thrones

Sincerity dissembles for your demise
Tricksters will only blind your eyes
Candor swarms the dead like flies
And devious minds honestly advise

Righteousness is both prison and warden
Sinners are angels they need no pardon
Modesty is yet another lavish garden
Where tender hearts learn to harden

Silence is a scream of ignoble deeds
That provoke even Saints to immoral needs
A life in deference to righteous creeds
Finally lives when virtue bleeds

Nothing fears a man

Does anything fear a man?
Making him any softness 
Of manhood? And dignity?  
Extruding a bit deference from him?

Does poverty do that? 
And power? and death? 
And anything else potentially gets that?
Bring in a man a bit despair?
Or a bit sorrow ? a  bit sad?

Truly  Sorry for the requests 
I  ensure a man is a man
The  standings-in 
Of almighty, of kindness, of love 
Of bravery and, of wisdoms 
HE is the blessed king 

Indeed, nothing defeats a man,
Saying Needless to fear him 
I heard he had once said
If I am afraid of you
I am not a MAN for a that

Being Lionized is Not for Everyone

Author Lewis Carrol was horrified
At the thought of being lionized
He did not want approval from anyone
Wanted to be left alone to create pure fun

Lionization is for people who want adoration
Who like parades; to be noticed at a celebration.
Lionization is for people who seek attention and praise
Adoration and deference, a narcissist’s egotistical phase.

New Year

It's a New Year again,
Time to turn another
page -- though I am
far from new~

closer to Old Sage.

Time to forgive...and let
go... -- as seasons flow
the cold of January
will leave our North~ 
Southern breeze will again 
melt the snow, thawing 
Nature's frostier thermostat -- 
(a subtle lesson in 
there for all of us) -- 

Myself, never much for skiing -- 

having taste closer in line with toasty-sand 
and dazzling-shore

however, no need to further bore anyone with
my own preference -- mindful that we all have 
personal deference -- but more than enough
in fond common not to foolishly feel need to share any
affections not deemed innately neutral, amiably acceptable when 
cordially meeting and passing -  

My this year's resolution:

To make a little less fecal
pollution

to love a little more

a welcome mat not far from

the bell camera at the front
door -- 

I won't be naively foolish -- but maybe
a bit less frightfully ghoulish...

mad as a hatter

Mad as a hatter is a phrase that came naturally about
In the eighteen hundreds hatmakers were going insane
Using mercuric nitrate, which removed skin from pelts
A poison that had them acting funny, going postal
Another phrase that came along much later
In deference to postal workers who went insane
From the mundane repetitiveness of their jobs.

Snowman 3

The ???????? ???????????? ?????????????? was in a storm
Oh to be ???????????? ???? ?????????? of the ?????????? cold
Until an ???????????????????? ???????? came ?????????????? the norm

Oh this absurd bird will be ???????????? to go
But the bird ???????????? to ???????? ?????????????????? to stay in new and old
With the snowman’s arm, he made a ?????????????? from the ???????? in the snow
 
However, the bird ???????????? and ???????? on the ?????????? with deference
I ???????? you ???????? that no ???????? will make me so going is a no in bold
With a soft small he replied very well it will be ?????? ?????? alliance

Allowing Myself to Petrify

I am in a stupor
a hypnotic daze
my feet no longer work
they have atrophied
soon my body will be a statue
completely petrified

I can blame no one but myself
my recliner is too comfy
If I told you how many hours I have been sitting
you would laugh, thinking it must be a joke
in deference to truth, I did waddle three times to bathroom
but I have been sitting here since 8 a.m. and it is 5:34 p.m.

I moved myself to the couch twice, thinking I would nap
My puppy jumped up out of a catatonic sleep and licked me both times
so here I sit, turning into a dead turnip next to my happy retriever puppy

underheld

A shadow crossed the room
in the corner of my awareness

A cloud outside somewhere, probably,
but for an instant, I thought that motion was you.

Thoughts of you are casually intrusive.

Maybe you’d crawled into my luggage - and hidden.
There’s a complex birthday candle wish.

Desire owes no deference to logic

When I think of you, my tummy becomes warm satin and I know,
that in your hands, I could be boneless and lusciously obedient.

For a while, anyway.

I remember us at the beach, lounging in deep parasol shade,
how your tanned skin glistened with tiny beads of sweat
and your endless legs stretched out like a centerfold’s.

Or you pulling me up out of the pool, one-handed, effortlessly,
with enough force that I briefly flew, and how you’d gently guide me down.

“What are you doing?” I’m virtually slapped out of my erotic fantasy, by Lisa, who’s standing, exasperated, sandaled toes tapping, purse in hand.

“Daydreaming,” I answered weakly, as I jumped up to get myself ready.

Has it only been four days since I left you?
I already feel tragically underheld.
.
.
A song for this:
Ain't it a shame by The B-52s
Locked Inside by Janelle Monáe

artistic priority

What will truly make ART great again, is when people return to the critical realization that it is not about quality, it is about expression, and more importantly, JOY. Don’t be too concerned what others say about your work, whether it’s painting or music or writing or woodworking or cooking, etc, if it brings you enjoyment, then do it to your heart’s content!! 

Everything we do and say and make and write, is a little piece of us, and should be treated with the deference and appreciation that we give to one another, and no one knows better than WE do, how our intent compares to the result. If you get critique, take it kindly, but with a grain of salt, and the knowledge that others do not see the world the way you do.

EVERYONE on this planet has a special talent, and not all of those talents are the artistic type, but that savvy was given to you to make the most of. Maybe you’re not the “artistic” type, but you ARE talented, I guarantee you, and I also guarantee that endowment you’re blessed with, whatEVER it may be, is something you enjoy, and it brings others joy in the process.

THAT, my friends, along with love, is what life is all about! 

one size fits all

clutch them …

nourish them …
draw all to your being with
a lover’s hunger
the cosmos bears suns, innumerable
each a rarity of scintillation
unlike any other -
a macrocosm of nascency and
divine chaos
in a measure to rival every
pinch of dust that ever whirled
upon a whisper…
like the ache of fidelity,
each has its own bountiful awe
and who can know what
wonders lay in wait beyond the gleam?
they are not stars
they do not churn with fusion
nor do they bedazzle the heavens,
but they are just as precious -
despite the size or weave or breadth …
so treat them with
deference, regard and quiet consideration
for the big things are the little things
and the biggest of
all the small …

are moments.








Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, February 2, 2024

mightier -

the bane …

of complacency
the enemy of apathetic ids
an all-consuming blade of inspiration
you, mighty weapon
have slain the fiercest dragons of
detachment and disregard that
humanity has brought against you
and I, a knight of notation,
wield you with an authority graced to me
by a vivid imagination
and a child’s whimsical heart …
oh, I do not take your might for granted
nor underestimate your license …
I remove you from your scabbard
in deepest consideration -
your hilt, I grasp with awe
your edge, I apply in deference and fear
for the wounds I affect
are deep and lasting …
you are the Excalibur of inspiration
pulled from a stone of indifference
by the grandest of acumens and spirits
long, long ages ago …
I take up your glyphic garland
with pride and honor
and an undying respect for
the numberless warriors who came before me
and whose names are a prayer
upon these pious lips …
a prayer for you …

my pen.








Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, January 4, 2024

Mistletoe

And what is in a bland 
year
that a great moment 
could not obliterate…

the value of a lifetime
without a season of proximity
shared…?

as one thimble of seawater
passed between us
can be a voyage toward
wondrous eternity
when hearts are righted
and divine charting
full sail 
at the steer -- ?

We talk of the toast
into tomorrow
while letting the dear drip
pour away

limiting prayer
to future morning cadence

giving not enough deference
to Loving Presence attended…

Kiss me!

Queuing the Doing

QUEUING THE DOING

Who would care what people write
It’s what they really do that matters
Despite the fancy poetic metaphors
Nor thinking it may give one pause
Fearing one’s words are all in tatters
Actually, it’s self-delusion and trite

Who might care what people think
In deference to those that really do
Private thoughts have little traction
Unless they’re translated into action
Which can achieve a different view
It’s better than a mere nod and wink

Who then can care what people say
Lots of babble, meaning very little
An action speaks louder than a word
Whatever may have been inferred
The spoken word can die in hospital
But if whispered, they just blow away

Beware of the Pink Praying Mantis

Prissy pink praying mantis pretends no preference
Delightful dapper Dan, a suitor, gives her deference.
They dance a tantalizing tango with her cousin Ted.
Before the dance is finished, Dan has lost his sweet head.

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