My Monster
Selfishness my monster
was I born with acardia ?
Dejections came my way
and nourished the beast,
Griefs piled up constantly
that was the only feast,
As if I inspire disgust
and horror my face,
Deviations infinite
turning freak or fiend,
Humane or monster ?
Imaginary or legendary ?
Written Sept 27th, 2015
For contest by Anthony Slausen
Categories:
dejections, angst, how i feel,
Form: Free verse
DSP- Captcha
Dejections lead into deep depression,
Subtle heart sinks with each beat,
Precious pearls of tears roll .
Acrostic in syllables of a kimo - 10/7/6
Written April 19th, 2015
For "Captcha contest" by Judy Konos
Awarded first place win
Categories:
dejections, deep, depression,
Form: Acrostic
You may withdraw yourself from others
Become quiescent or lackadaisical
Disrupt sleep or appetite alter
Feel sluggish or delirious
When the echoes of your parents'altercations
Rack up your eggshell mind
When you avoid people whose company
You've typically rejoiced relishing
Yet you remain part of the quotidian process
That regaling you would your emotions trivialize
The world should revere your right
To confront a loss thouroughly
Convalesce from their turgid prosperity
Immerse your weighty dejections
Schedule some constructive episodes
I can but accolade your approach
To coin a new gist of aliveness
Absorb and merriment apprize
Amend lamenting into cleansing
Strike a joke or be sarcastic
Amass and boast your high-pitched impetus
And above all your insights vitalize
Extoll your bewitching sorcery
And perceive a world better to be.
Categories:
dejections, anxiety,
Form: Free verse
Sharing of Dreams
He had a dream of living a life of rustic idyll, to see and feel
seasons, so he bought a derelict cottage in pastoral Algarve.
Took his wife along, explained how the cottage would look
like when done up; she said nothing. With help of workmen
he began repair and life for a while was primitive. He saw his
wife was not happy, when she said she had go home to look
after her daughter, he understood. Months went, but a day
in February the home was ready, he had even acquired a dog.
Outside the almond trees were shedding and petals looked as
pink snow. Rang her, but she didn´t want to come and live in
his bucolic wonderland . “But I thought you liked it”, he said.
“You never asked me, took me for granted, this is you dream
not mine…” The cottage was still and cold, his dog sensed his
dejections jumped up on his lap liking his face. He went into
the shed, collected wood for the fireplace, his dream was now
like an old coat too comfy to throw away.
Categories:
dejections, growing up, husband, sad,
Form: Blank verse