Feebleness Poems

A Sunny Day In May

I took my life on a sunny day in May for no other reason than I was tired...

Tired of the blackness of my heart, 
The loneliness I can never explain 
And the incessant chatter in my mind

Tired of the futility of believing anything is pure, or true
Or that Love could find in me,
A glimmer of something worth saving

Tired of the feebleness, the wavering, and the indecision

Tired of the crushing weight of relentless regret, 
The rage of existence without purpose,
And the indifference of irrelevance

I know you don’t understand I don’t expect it, 
But I long for it all the same
For an embrace that would consume me,
And devour my shame

But you cannot meet me here on this broken path 
All hope burned to ashes

I glare desperately through the dark glass 
As storms gather in the distance

And those I loved, and who I wished I had become 
Passed before the eyes of my wretched heart

And I, finally alone in the cold silence, 
Remain forever chained in madness, 
Speechless in my oblivion

Beyond the reach...

Wasted Years

Love carries on the life that we
possess.
We know this because hate and evil's
hunger is to oppress.
Yet we take love for granted and say
it's insignificant.
All the while, love comes steadfast
and diligent.
That being in disregard, it's easier
to be a part of the world's evilness,
And to succumb to its own feebleness.
We are a "right now", instant
generation.
We no longer have patience in everyday
situations.
We're in a hurry to go nowhere and
people are fighting to get there
first.
And getting there isn't worth all the
pain that is being dispersed.
We only get worse as each day goes by.
And no one takes the time out to find
out why.
We no longer carry the discipline that
was passed on throughout the years.
As well as lessons spoke of and passed
down to listening ears.
If we just take the time out to take a
look around.
We may be able to see what was lost
and where things are found.

Balloons

Forgotten memories of childhood resurrect,
Layers of colorful events get, together, decked.
Adamant screaming continues till I got them,
They burst, oft, midway though each seemed a precious gem...!

Did I know, then, the meaning of these chic child charms?
Loss of innocence, and their tint tentative norms!
Their feebleness, tragedy of timeless transience,
Spread within the sky of heart gloomy ambiance...?

Though they gave me a feeling of freedom and joy,
Did they teach me the loss of innocence and coy?
Did I know the signs of their various colors?
Did anything except pleasure fill me, alors...?

I love you, balloons, at this my late fifties too,
Midst every moment of my happiness and woe;
Betwixt junctures of perplexities, and sorrows,
Your rainbow prism smiles promise pleasant tomorrows...!!!

Each balloon overblown breaks I have known by now,
Can even vendors save them from bursting, somehow; 
Doesn't this fact speak volumes about human life?
Doesn't it, breath blown once, undergo endless strife...?

18 February 2023
Balloons Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco

Censorship

Censorship is the instrument 
Of the people intent
Who want concealment 
From themselves 
And from others
Fear is only to embrace
Their feebleness to face 
What is certified in place 

Some spot, in their adolescence
They were ensured indifference
Against total real factors 
Of our mankind freedom 
They were potentially educated 
To look one way abbreviated
When other possibilities 
Were readily available judiciously

The Winds of Change

   
   I feel it in the air- the winds of change.
Short days are darker, and cold nights are long.
   Unlike that phase of spring that did arrange
for skipping in the meadows with a song.

   The winds of change- I feel are in the air.
With summer gone, I yearn for its delights;
   those nimble days- enjoying everywhere
the spring rebirth, matured by summer rites.

   For sure, those winds of change took over fall;
each vibrant tree sheds leaves in layers deep.
   Dried limbs and brittle trunks answer the call
from winter- with their feebleness must sleep.

And, as the winds of change are here for me-
   I share my brittleness with winter's tree.


November 19, 2020

~3rd Place~
Contest: Winds Of Change
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Judged: 11/28/2020

When We Grow Old

It's true that one day we'll grow old
Maybe we'd be like pack of cigarettes 
Stashed near the cupboard 
Laying near the broomstick
Bundled together with worn-out ropes 

Like cables that are patched with tapes 
Walking around with sticks long laden with thoughts
Accumulated for ages and Sun-beaten
Maybe we'd be tan already from life's sun-heat
Or Wed feel like old locks whose keys have been lost

They say we might be like cupboards with worn hinges 
Or broken bottles on dumpsites
Or maybe we'd be like car garages
With old tools laying around 
Or bolts whose turns have gone out of turns 

What they say seem to scare me 
That being old isn't much of a blessing as we'd thought 
Should I stay and grow stricken in age
What if feebleness sets in?
Would this life still be meaningful to me?

Oh! What if life is as beautiful as a blossoming tree
Like nocturnal flowers by the river side
What a sight in site that would be 
Yes, I'd love that; growing old would be
Meaningful

Anchors

When dark days and evil nights lurk and strike,                                                                
Without regards for what's yours or mine;                                                                         When high tides of cruelty strike                                                                
The good who's done no crime;
In troubling times like these,
We are open to being deceived.

When confronted by fears that bind,
A very powerful song comes to mind,                                                     
Speaking of anchors for troubled times,
For lives turned and tossed way out of line,
For people beaten, buffeted, and intertwined.
A way out of their wilderness, they cannot find.

Each day is a grind, falling further and further behind.
Life makes no sense, having neither rhythm nor rhyme.
They feel voidness and feebleness, a life without design.
Storms have destroyed their fruit, now rotting on the vine.
They need hugs, smiles, and touches from loving humankind.
May God give us all an anchor that holds tightly to The Devine.

050520PSCtest, In Times Like These, Silent One. 2P

The Prodigal

reserves
       depleted
    entrenched
in
feebleness
    strengthless
      self-centred
ego
to
the fore
        the
        tempest
rages
all around
battered
drenched
bereft
      broken
       beaten-
sigh
  turn
      back...
the cry

The Heart of John Vianney

O Saint - I wonder if you knew,
that, guarded in your chest,
a human heart was placed by God,
so different from the rest.

What love! What soul! What purity!
For even when your soul,
was lifted from your mortal flesh,
your heart remained quite whole.

And surely it's a muscle, 
not much more - or so they say -
yet mine aches and burns with wonder,
for yours did not decay. 

With eager eyes they wait for it,
your relic left behind.
Peering upon a miracle,
how can we be so blind?

Maddened men in feverish haste,
wish to find the way,
to continue through eternity,
yet you're alive today!

And your loving heart, still with us,
provides immortal proof, 
of God's promise to our feebleness.
How could I stand aloof?

Written 6 January 2019

A New Way of Life

I shall begin a new way of life-
          take pride in my medallion strength
          bleeding from the ebon shadows.

Solitude shall be no more,
sangria sunsets shall ascend and 
eventide may veil obscurity, 
but I will prevail and overcome
satired loneliness. 

           I shall begin a new way of life-
           show fortitude in ways only angels
           can comprehend.

Permanence shall be my neighbor, 
resilience, my friend.
Crimson tenacity shall run through
my veins and I shall walk a path of
feebleness no more. 

            I shall begin a new way of life-
            Concentrate on my aptitude for life, 
            be an influence of heartfelt epic proportions. 


For I am the one who shall bring light to the darkness.



June 13, 2018

You and I

When I first set my eyes on you 
I felt I have know you quite a while 
Showing good signs of ardency love 
A perky girl like that left me out of word

You are my best friend 
And you gave me reason to smile 
In the broad day light it me and you 
Who would have thought we would best partner

You listening to me in all circumstance 
I tell you my life problems 
You know me better than anyone 
My life frailty and feebleness 

Thanking they lord for today 
We started this love like play 
You unfurl my life to excitement in every week day 
Even everybody are copying our love style 
You are my angel am just a wonderer 
Who blessed me every day if not you my a angel

Addiction

I'm so addicted to you
But not to drugs nor alcohol 
I'm addicted to your smile  
The pleasant gesture you unfurl 
I'm  addicted to you I couldn’t escape
You are looking beautiful as usual 
I'm addicted to your laughter
They say Addiction means slave to
When you can’t give up on something 
For a single moment you crave too
When you are upset, I still love the little things you do
Even your anger presents you as perfect beautiful
And it leaves me in a state of sigh 
You have your flaws 
But when that feebleness came to me 
All I see is perfection because am so addicted to you 
I'm addicted to the season of love you unfold 
Sweetheart you are so magnificent 
In your gait are all beloved things 
I will follow you everywhere like the shadow 
I'm  so addicted to you beloved 
Now am sure my life belong to you 
I'm so addicted to you

I Have

I have once been consumed by beauty
And the ground beneath me felt drifty
Throwing my mind off track
That I was in no state to love back

I have twice reflected on the lesson of the time
And my feebleness was brought to prime
Can I really handle the lovely and shapely
With composure and sanity

I have thrice sworn and recited
To never again get too excited
That I may be able to reciprocate justly
With commitment and bravery

I have repeatedly repeated this cycle
Now I'm in need of a breaking miracle
Where if beauty and love be one theme
I will write gloriously enough to equate a hymn

Day To Day

I reached out to touch you
but it wasn’t about your skin
to slide my mind upon your heart
to reach who you are within

Mankind looks upon your shell
not upon the life inside
they only see the shoreline
not the ocean where you reside

I remember being young of heart
my mind was bonded to what’s old
where experience has laid the paths
and repetition the stories told

Another day has come and gone
the minutes that I’m given are delight
too soon will come my feebleness
my loss of mind and sight

But if I should ever lose
all that I am within
I would wish that you remember
all the love you have to spend

COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

Jabber, Jab

jab
what is happiness?
is it killing ?
is it raping?
is it mocking?
is it bulling?
is it cheating?
is it pollution?
is it treading?
is it threatening?
is it non-cooperation?
is it disrespect?
is it feebleness?
if at all it be these
i am a happy to be unhappy.

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