left alone
icy breeze
not enough
of clothes
homeless
in this cold,
he spits
his venom,
you're
no
daughter
of mine
anymore.
Chases
his
little
girl
with
clinched
of fists.
Now
she
feels
more
alone,
left
with
little
credit
on her phone....
Trapped in layers of sin, ambiguity, and shame.
The man walks the loud, but still, lonely streets of the city, searching for something that he does not know. The discarded man. A man standing in the wilderness, screaming out shrieks of pain that are lost in translation. The man fears he is alone. The man stands alone, unable to move, stunned into silence, fearful of speaking. The discarded man dances into each puff and exhale of tobacco. Lost in each swig of beer. The discarded man knows of God, but is still fearful to call on his name. The discarded man walks and drinks in solitude till his feet bleed and he cannot sober up. He does not address his emotional pain. From negligence, this pain takes on a physical being. A being that looks like him, walks like him, speaks like him. The discarded man cannot differ between the being and himself, so they walk as one.
“I traversed the path from blind faith to wisdom ~
Recognising within me lies God’s kingdom”
~ quote by poet
When I was a child, I was told God exists
but growing up, seeing chaos in the world,
I debated this concept in foggy mists,
deluded no more, when flag of love unfurled,
the elixir that resolves every conflict,
with fragrance oozing from rose petals, hand picked,
consciousness engulfing the sun and the moon,
ushering music of spheres, that makes heart swoon.
In the dead of night she lays
Still , alone
Once so full of life
Now lifeless so far from home
No-one knows she lays there
Discarded like refuse
Is this to be her final resting place
Left naked and abused
a discarded tissue wept,
as it fluttered slowly
against the cold hard pavement
hoping
to feel the heat of a caress
one last time
haunted
by the memory
of a brief strong tender embrace
she lingers on the ground,
limp
used
abandoned
she still aches
for the wind
that will
carry her back
to her
lost lover
releasing you
to the winds that bind us
~ myself now freed
AP: Honorable Mention 2023
Submitted on March 7, 2023 for contest UP TO YOU AGAIN sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - Honorable Mention
Plastic bag pixie
sealed with her four leaf clover
was thrown out like trash;
Bubbling magic
left to die in a junk pile;
Shimmers were fading
on cardboard like rainbow oil
as a boy walked by;
Luckily he saw treasure
amidst the grime and pyrite;
Rainbows reflected
fascination on the street;
Picked up a sparkle;
Discarded gold alchemy,
much more than a speck of light.
The red flag was constantly waving staring one directly in
one's face discarded by one's mind, body, and soul sidelined.
Discarded emotionally, isolated physically alone? Agony, defeat,
cheated on played like a violin and pounded upon like a drum.
Chapters of escaped, abandonment, lies, and Self-discovery, A
breathe of rejuvenation of calm, relaxed and healing state of mind,
my friend is awake
we watch snow melt as it falls on the concrete outside.
"well, another season" is what he says.
they come and go here - he will be gone by the end of the year.
i am sad that the snow melts so quickly on the concrete.
it lasts longer on grass,
but i do not see much of that.
"roll up!" they tell me.
god damnit.
i gather my things and put them into two mesh laundry bags.
i try to ignore a tightness in my chest
and uneasiness in my joints.
they need the space for someone else.
they do not tell me to where i am being sent
and i try to convince myself that it does not matter.
I sit in the back corner of a dark musty warehouse now
Discarded, forgotten, despised, unwelcome, bereft.
No one has been in this place for at least sixty years.
Once upon a time in my heyday I was revered and petted.
Children squealed with delight as they approached.
They laughed and giggled and chuckled about my candies.
Fat women covertly looked both ways before approaching.
They loved my offerings but did not want everyone to see them.
Milk chocolate! They said with a sigh, as they gulped my candies.
Skinny men whose wives had them on diets approached with a skip.
They fairly hopped away, with the enthusiasm of their youth.
These memories keep me happy as I sit here in this dark dungeon.
finding treasure
at the thrift store
discarded library books
I feel broken, incapacitated
This Migraine Disease has stolen
So much time from my life
But also the relationships
So many cannot cope
With someone with chronic pain
So we become unworthy
Slowly people lose touch
Or some create stories
To fit their agenda that
We don’t fit into anymore
We are not believed
We are histrionic
No one can have chronic pain that long
If we are lucky, we may have a few
Mostly our favorite Doctor, or a friend
That really truly get it but
It’s few and far between
Our families cannot cope
Because were broken
Unable to function in their world
So what were left is the loneliness
Of chronic pain
Let alone the pain
Our hearts are torn apart
As we
Become
Discarded.
A
discarded
plant was I
that a traveler,
a kind, gentle traveler,
picked gently up, and
planted in a rich, fertile land
to make me a tree,
a big, blossoming tree,
but no, - not for him,
yet for all the passers-by.
I’m that tree, that tree,
that he wanted me to be,
with boughs so bent and so low,
with fruits full of ripe and so raw,
caring those that come under my bough,
yet
he cannot see me,
because
he’s
Nor
More
*A 1st Place* in the following contest (judged on Nov. 29, 2020)
Nov. 23, 2020
SHAPE UP Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Brian Strand
Originally, I published this piece in 2016 for About Page on My WordsPress account.
Crushed crystal hearts for the stillborn
harvested body parts from the aborted
discarded without honor or headstones-
A sweet autumn breeze whistles through the air,
Do you really have to ask?
Of course, I'll go outside today,
you rarely ever want to play!
I sprain my knee,
You never care,
It isn't fair.
You help me up,
You do care.
It is fair!
We laugh, we play, we run,
It's really lots of fun!
Then your other friends come by, you tell me to go away.
I'm devastated, heartbroken you could say,
And yet I hope, I dream, I wait,
For another fateful autumn day, When you will finally, finally, again ask me to play!
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