Expectance Poems | Examples

Harrowed Hum

Just as the eve has come
The joy of mourning has become undone
We tell ourselves each day is one
Expectance is the claim of none
A harrowed trail of battled drums
The humming sum of rains to come
Acceptance is the aim to some
While rejection feints the cause of shun
Epiphanies are all but done
The roar of morning has just begun
Harrowed hum will become

Beginning to Remember

The first sense from the portal destination was contentment and a smile to the eyes- 
of barnyard kin and neighbor, those curious smiles welcomed in tandem with an expectance, 
something I cannot put my finger on or elaborate, 
but only as that I was a visitor but not a stranger.
Eager but calm faces 
silhouetted amidst the moonlight's particle beam, 
dusts that danced like Fairy-folk in training 
held spotlight and stage 
to announce me in theatrical swirl.
The scent of damp straw permeated just enough 
to add to the ambience. Then I looked out and slightly skyward, just below mountain level- to the east. 
There sat a great City- 
which looked to be made of Topaz and Steel and an impossible white material 
that reminded me of alabaster and taffy. 
That is where I remembered, that I met her.

Doing Duty

Arjuna, a grand warrior, well habited to,
Fight against nastiest of warrior crew;
Finds himself faced with kith and kin
To fight a war, hence, he fears within;
Dilemma-filled he calls out to God,
God hears him and hurries to his aid;
Erasing the doubts shrouding him,
He bids him his duties to perform;
Duty of a warrior is fighting, he says,
Not ever thinking of victory of loss;
Pleasure or pain or victory or defeat
Reckon on actions with no deceit;
Fighting against inner inclinations, 
Demeanors, evil desires, illusions;
Losing all that’s imperfection within,
Combating to gain the life’s soul win;
Knowledge combined with love is ideal,
Action and no inaction – must be real;
Doing duties with no fruit expectance,
Must be the pursuit of human existence;
Though it may not be always possible,
Striving towards it is, indeed, feasible...


05 July 2021

A Rare Shooting Star

It was a rose among the thorns
It was a solution among the problems
It was a sweetness among the sourness
It was a king among the kings

The expectance it brought
The honour it cherished
The ageless it embraced
The respect it should be given

It was a loner in the making
It was a distinguished human being
It was a unique and different species
It was a philanthropist among the nations

Not Music To My Ears

#"NOT MUSIC TO MY EARS..."

Beeps, Bleeps, Bells and Whistles in a Hospital Setting, Netting The Feeling to the Ears of Sharp Prickly Thorny Thistles That Nestle's The EARS of One's Very Soul, Rendering COLD Hypnotic, Robotic Timed Unwanted Lyrics In A Setting that's Unsettling and Upsetting...Yet, the Resetting of Unyielding Chimes Define a Disturbed Mind And BODY; I Beg Mercy On Me To Please Stop and Finally Cease...If Only For Few Mere Moments to Receive PEACE And RELEASE From This RELENTLESS CHORUS...
A CHORESOME ACCEPTANCE WITH NO EXPECTANCE OF SUBSIDING.
MEANWHILE, I SWIM AND IMMERSE IN THIS SYMPHONY CURSE AND THE RHYTHMS INSIDE, COINCIDE...

BUT, NOT AGAINST MY UN-WANTING!#
 
2/3/2018   ©Renee Denise Gross

Tell Me

A hazy sunshine fills the empty room 
The light creating a mixture of 
serene fog and dancing rays 
A figure forms in the haze 
floating on air 
and holding a staff with a golden head 
It waves the fog around into  
rainbow-coloured circles 
Some small, some big 
All concentric 
and encasing two shapes  
They radiate a lenitive breeze 
and the scent of roses 
I hear a slight rhythm  
emanating from its edges 
consuming all air in the room 
My lips fall dry,  
then moisten 
with a cinnamon taste 
My body quakes 
 
My teeth beat together  
ungracefully 
Stricken by terror and  
expectance at once 
I can feel the tightness around my waist 
as the two shapes embrace
as if caught in the hollow warmth
between them
Trickles of sweat 
run between my eyes
severing the rays

Bird calls ring through  
and start lining into inaudible verses 
My heart races and I start to quiver 
I’m blind, and deaf 
and covered by a warm sheath 
Tell me, my love 
Do you feel it too?

The Queen of Repentance

On the morn of the eve of infinity
Saw the eyes of a stranger I knew
As she danced to the tune of the Devil
By the silvery light of the moon

I said " Lady I came here for drinkin'"
But her burning gaze finished my sentence
She said " Sir! Won't you tell me your secret
And I'll be your queen of repentance"

So soldier or sailor live life to the last
Believe in the truth of expectance
For in some dark tavern or shady bordello
You may meet her the queen of repentance

Then her hand held mine like a grape to a vine
With a promise of pleasures untold
And this angel or wraith was to replace my faith
And shone light in a soul turned cold

So soldier or sailor come tell her your secret
For she's your last chance of redemption
Let the black in your soul be replaced by the light
Where no sin is too great for exemption

Imprints

Imprints

Expectance can be shattered by reality

But reality can be crippled by your steps

Be careful of the imprints that you leave 

For they are the guidance of your childrens future

Precept

Precept

Turbulation through existance and time
Never trying to counteract the pieces of twine
That is trying to rip me apart
Clinging to the expectance of someone else
Reaching but collapsing again and again
Maybe nature in charge of its own course and mine
Precept is my only light
Once more then shall I engage
Once more shall I endeavor
Once more precept 
Shall be my eternal vitality

By:
Tammy R. Flanagan

The Mouth Breathes In

The hand that caresses the wave.
The mouth that hardly opens –
breathes in the fresh wind of the stone-pines.
To speak to the stars,
to write out signs –
that can be learnt.
It is known by the astrologers, magi,
illusionists, newspapermen. 
All this can be learnt.
To be in conformity
with the expectance. 
That is the art
of the skilful ones, the thought of the blind men. 
People who sing in the boat
that has sailed off, do they know?
Does the sand remember other steps
but those of the children?

The hand that caresses the wave.
The mouth breathes in – the fresh wind
of the stone-pines.

And So- To Sleep

As I close the curtains on wavering thoughts,
How did you bare the pain of your body’s conflict?
The mirror on the wall captures a picture of my hurt,
Tears fall as I wait for the mists of my pain to lift.

So many answers needed but now laid to rest,
My confusion as to “Why You?” never known.
Expectance the only option, for what else is there?
Solutions like an hour glass, empty and long gone.

Left shocked and broken, when reality hit home,
The battle within you raged, way out of your control.
A parasitic army draining you of strength and life,
Your loss leaves me numb right through to my soul.

As others watched helpless, you were falling,
Into the waiting arms of a better place.
Where pain and illness will never touch you,
I hope you smiled as you gave into it’s embrace.

We’ll all miss you, but know you will be smiling,
You will be remembered with love in our hearts.
At night I will always have a thought for you,
I will look for your face in the stars.

©.L.Kelly

A Subset of Pain

I see a girl who hurting, yet hides the tears she cries,
I see a girl, who tries to be brave when ‘ere she meets hard times,
I see this girl ignore the taunts and jeers of all her “friends”, 
She bears the scorn her own family shows every time that it happens,
She has few friends who care for her, who understands her pain,
But people try to break her heart by turning her friends to hate,
This girl she hides behind a mask of expectance not dread,
When deep inside her heart is tearing her dignity to shreds,
I know this girl, she is my friend, and I understand her, you see, 
I feel the pain she feels inside, because that girl lives inside me.

In Expectance

Before the growth in the fields
of inevitable verses,
before the grass falls asleep
in expectance of a violin,
before the faning chestnut-tree
fondles me with its thoughts...
Before the violets paint themselves
with a haze of a bird indifference
before i hear an impuden laugh
of an acid rain,
before the burning of the butterflies
at the stake of the spring temple...
The crocus was alone 
and saffron from impatience.

Pool of Blood

Feeling self averted in this silence
I’ll take hold of anything that helps me deny
Dreaming that I’m free of this
I’ll smile as I’m reaching bliss
But something still inside me tells me why

I’m seeing death as I am thrown upon it
Down and out I stare as I return
People with their bloody eyes
Dying hearts that only lie
Just give me something that will make this burn

Self assured lies
Paralyse
Repeating cries
Until I die

If I pull myself and catch up with expectance
I know that I must swim under the pool
Bloody rivers, veins of earth
Hold my breath and make it worse
But in the end I know that this will make me cool

Self assured mind
I am blind
Circles I find
I’m here until I die

In a world where angels voices can not sing
A world where only devils ever win
Justifying feared states
Dependence falls upon our hate
I can never stand in peace when I live in sin

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