What was the price I paid for life?
None; it was given me.
The cost of spite and strife
Was great, but I in turn learned humility.
With age came wisdom and dignity,
The scepter of compassion,
The scales of honesty,
Where we need
Consider the frailty
Of those tender hearts
Fallen before me,
For there is always a price to pay
For living as what we say,
Be it by fault
Or be it by may.
“Man’s word is god in man”,
I once read an old King say.
My father called it tottery
Well, that is only part
Aging is really a hard time
Like handed a wobbly wheel cart
A grocery cart with one side bent
The other side bulging out
One wheel bumping, the other jammed
Shopping difficult no doubt
The white hair from years of living
Bent back from hard work, dear
Frown lines upon brow from such pain
How I wish you were near
If you were here, all would relax
Because your strength could deal
Now you are in perfect health~whole
While I wait to be healed
My bones are like corroded iron bars.
I am weak like termite-eaten teak trees.
My physique and psyche have many scars.
My inner organs, like winter blooms, freeze.
I get up and sit on my bed to pray.
I am unable to pray. I fumble.
Am I a damn donkey? Why should I bray?
I accept. I know that I am humble.
Do all these affect me? I don't think so.
My arrows often seem to boomerang.
It's life. I don't know from where the winds blow.
Can I sing again the songs I once sang?
My poems don't have the flair they once had.
Though I feel blithe sometimes, often I'm sad.
A double reverse cinquain
Brittle
at the edges,
black and white photographs
hold the ghosts of memories lost
to time
and space
in which there is less to defend ~
nothing to hold her there,
nothing to mourn
her loss.
In my frailty, God works in His might
upholding me against weakness' pain
toward effective functional gain
surmounting my human nature blight...
Despite frailty brought by carnal mind
the Saviour reaches me with His grace
endowing strength to win in life's race
midst blest restoration He designed...
Admitting frailty of sins' sorrow
my soul confesses selfishness' cry
along the guise of pride I defy
causing heart to wallow in deep woe...
Now, I cast to the Lord frailty's deed
toward heavenly soar by faith's bliss
as prayer comes from spirit's abyss
to do His will, freed from guilt indeed.
Triumphant* against frailty's attack
I do stay in my divine Fortress
seeking His peace to vanquish distress
He assures with great compassion-pack.
*Psalms 25:2 O my God, I trust in thee: let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.
February 4, 2026
2nd place "Pick-A-Title, Vol 55" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 2/20/2026
The clock has decided to melt its hands,
pouring liquid seconds into the teacup of a ghost.
My bones are made of spun sugar and whispers,
snap-cracking like dry twigs in a January wind.
I am a house built of stained glass,
holding my breath in a thunderstorm.
See my shadow? It is unraveling at the edges,
becoming lace, becoming smoke.
The mirror shows me a portrait painted on water,
constantly blurring, always just about to break.
I walk on a tightrope stretched over a velvet void,
balancing a drop of mercury on my tongue.
At night, my teeth turn into sand:
And my hair grows roots into the pillow.
I hold onto the edges of the bed,
afraid of dissolving into the wallpaper,
fearful that a butterfly’s sneeze
will scatter me into the dark, forever.
a paraglider
sails over me
I, green with envy
he, mocking me
I was helpless,
I was shining.
You were knowing.
and bestowing.
When my steps were unsteady,
you held my hand.
You were ready.
Age is just a number, you said
grinning broadly like a
little girl repeating a loving fib.
You wanted a protector,
a guardian of devotion.
But I am not your Paul Bunyan,
the mighty timberman in your dreams.
In my twilight, I remember so many
mighty forests burning to cinder.
Frailty disintegrates the will.
Big-strong-protecting-men wilt with age.
They offer their pleading eyes,
longing to be cradled.
Maturity is mortality ticking.
I was helpless,
I was shining.
You were knowing,
and bestowing.
When my steps were unsteady,
you held my hand.
Beyond Despair
despair
heavy, discordant
stomping, injuring, impeding
stamina, outlook, impulse, dreams
refreshing, aiding, inspiriting
priceless, heartfelt
hope
Furocity - it boils within the very vessels in essence
Bursting esteemed love, susceptible in it's unwavering
Vulnerability
Purity abreast of angelic fortification so easily crumbled
Shattered as splintered crystal fury slashes altruistic tracts
Lively divine power, immeasurable, snuffed by frailty
Resentful vengeance's suffocating unrelent.
In June I sought the desert phlox
That I might smell its homesome musk
It quivered like the desert fox
Foraging in the lonesome dusk.
smallest of glowworms
shining at their very best ---
brighten up the earth
12 December 2022
Fearing that our diversity may doom society.
We have worn out our discolored disguise.
Mental doodles have a limit in their entirety.
Leaving behind a youthful dream and surprise.
My work has been tainted by society.
Placing screens in front of trusting eyes.
Creative content requires time and satiety.
Hearing evil howling and looking for a prize.
I'm powerless, waiting for such a deity.
Miracles of modest nature need to arise.
Persists throughout daily anxiety.
Descriptive accounts that debated the size.
Written: December 2nd, 2022
not the banyan trees
dried twigs hold the dragonflies
often carefully
few fallen feathers
form firm foundations for Finch's
fantastic furrow
a leaf on waters
becomes great lifebuoy
for a drowning ant
17 August 2021
I am complete when I am worthless
I am unrivaled when I am weak
I am unequaled when I am dependent
I am acceptable when I seek.
The one thing that You can't see
Behind the barrier in which I hide
Obstructing your vision and your sight
Is my incessant and flippant pride.
I am pardoned when brought low
I am free when plans get shattered
I begin to learn with much sadness
I transpire, beaten and battered.
How can I turn your face towards me?
When will you return and reappear?
Where can I go and you'll be found?
How can I draw you close and near?
My character is honed when I surrender
My candor is present when I give up
My maturity grows with a tender heart
My clarity emerges with an empty cup.
A warrior's confidence is his strength
And his training supports his mind
But the champions efforts are short-lived
If he is not with You aligned.
I am upright only when humble
I am virtuous when I decrease
I am pure when I forfeit
I am guiltless when You Increase.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.