Neither toy nor a plaything
time on a whim squandered at leisure
frittered for sake of burlesque
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
If I died in my sleep tonight,
upon reflection ~
I'd only have one true regret.
Though I tried to make
the most of my time on earth,
of course I've fallen short.
And for that I would be sorry.
I should have done more,
I should have been more,
I should have loved more.
Gifts squandered, time frittered,
thinking of all I could have done,
the many dreams left on the table
because I thought someday I'd have time.
Death is sudden with no do-overs
but really, we do know one day it's coming ~
time should never be taken for granted,
death is not supposed to be a true surprise.
AP: 1st place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
apology from heart with eyes smiling
that ego spawned aberrations be healed
a simple task yet difficult for some
foolishly frittered is the gift of life
soul deadened to throb of the cosmic hum
*On The Run*
Hunted by my past, trailed by my shadow,
Intoxicated by elixir of youth,
I climb the ìrókò beyond the leaves.
Wail of woes, dehydrated dreams
Crushed in the battlefield of the deep;
Love lost, hoarse voice, greying hairs.
The wind slaps me cold,
Drunk with evil pleasure,
Sweet sorrow envelopes me;
Then it dawns on me,
I’d frittered the forest and harried the sea
With eyes larger than my stomach
While lost in the jungle of ambition.
I have impregnated the sand
and birthed blood;
Now,
Buried in the remnant of the night,
Fame
Is a remote treacherous valley
of thorny roses.
Wandering in the wilderness of civilization,
The stench of my decomposing sins has found me out.
A prisoner in my own skin,
I must hide and run,
And run and hide.
Solace in firewater and ghettos,
Like the hourglass,
I must hit the highway
And journey to nowhere.
In the end,
I can't outrun my shadow.
Time is too precious
To be frittered today
There are not enough hours
As the sand runs away
But I halt my obsession
With the ticks and the tocks
Or the tasks to be done
Or the hands on the clocks
That fly round so quickly
As if life slips away..
For the moments I'm with you
Are more precious, I'd say
Than the whistling train
That is time passing by
I get lost in this moment
As we sit eye to eye
So let's sit and do 'nothing'
Not a bean. Not a chore.
For your presence is precious
There's no thing I want more
Than just to be present
And enjoy every breath
For we never quite know
How much more we have left
Sue Ellen a wastethrift who frittered her parents’ money
Married off to Chuck, an old goat in need of a honey
Devious Chuck thought he would be rich when her parents died.
They lived to be a hundred, a long well-lived, happy ride.
Sue Ellen never changed, she spent Chuck’s money too.
They ended up in a studio apartment outside Waterloo.
The day has many hours to fill
And most are unconsidered,
So often, we’re surprised by
All the time that we have frittered.
Yet sometimes, there’s a giant gap,
With minutes that are waiting
To see what we’ll resort to,
What ideas are percolating.
Most often, it’s the most mundane –
The phone, TV or reading
That makes the time slip quickly by,
The empty hours receding.
Before we know it, day is done;
We prep for life tomorrow
When, likely, we’ll look back and wish
For minutes we could borrow.
To civil manners she said "Good Night!"
If with garbage her plot was littered:
To the filthy, she gave a good fight
Like one by great losses embittered;
For unkempt spots her rage at its height,
As though one had her fought wealth frittered...
You, please, do not visit her website:
A long face with long snakes that slithered.
Georgina could simply rave self white
And the touched onlooker leave withered...
Any wonder her two plots once bright
Georgina, for days, often tittered.
I wandered lonely as a cloud "
~William Wordsworth ~
Wandering lonely I am a lost soul
Drifting never settled down
Begin to think was never whole
Never complete so lost not found
Sadly was blind to simple fact
My thinking was not quite intact.
Aimless years wasting precious time
Time not well spent I do admit
Frittered away years 'twas a crime
Now I am feeling quite bereft
Was all my fault I do confess
is it too late to readdress?
Not anchored my spirit drifting
Around the yew trees, I linger
Amorphous thoughts unremitting
Yet, a sliver of hope lingers
As I humbly wait for redemption
Universe makes no exception.
Pixabay image by: Mazoka
The midnight seashore breeze come’s calling….
With it’s subtile perplexities intertwined with lure
Remindful of days and moments once frittered
Climbing and straining our way to grand future
Which we were certain would somehow be better
Than that very moment we then held in our grasp
Now shown in recollection upon more solemn reflection
To have been far sweeter than the success we now clasp.
So now in this moment upon same scented breeze
Float longing’s of our past and treasured memories
Twinged with regrets of our shortsighted desire
To surrender our days in our rush and aspire
To stand here today with possessions and power
Having trampled the moment of our greatest hour
Frittered chick peas with a pucker,
I’ll have seconds it’s no bother;
Devoured like a boss;
Rice or with yogurt sauce,
just call me a falafel sucker.
Sunday night means irritation
aggravation, pure frustration
Weekend’s gone, workweek looms
Monday’s forecast, gloom and doom
Cheer us up, my family pleads
OK, let’s go outside and pick some weeds
Don’t tell me there’s naught to do
The bushes need some pruning too
Alright, get up, let’s take a drive
Down by the lake, the fish are alive
We get in the car, I step on the gas
Needle’s on empty, we’ll take a pass
Another Sunday night just frittered away
Almost forgot, Dad ~ Happy Birthday!
Do we not procure enough happiness in our dull lives?
When someone else is amply satisfied with themselves,
Otherwise, how much joy does one merely receive?
When someone else gains trust and in you can believe.
We should all endeavor to esteem and regard every one of us.
A more peculiar companion or family isn't genuine, thus.
May our excursion be one of happiness and daintiness?
What's withal in all we serve and heed, with spiritedness,
To set up an external assessment for everyone clod.
It is out of the compass of any individual who isn't God.
Regardless, there is pain and gain in the present situation.
Otherwise, there is a service of both joy and tribulation.
His power, weakness, and feelings were frittered away.
It's paradoxical since he was destroying his own joy.
Written: December 21, 2021
What’s happening on the street where we live
Seems same old, same old, feral instincts reign
Self-serving souls, not too eager to give
Distanced from love, trauma bonding with pain
Street smart, double entendre acts and speech
Each in stupor, like a dead man walking
Unwilling to learn but eager to teach
Oblivious to dark cravings stalking
As body does age, soul becomes not sage
Erst habit patterns, heart bind and confine
With demons self-created, war we wage
Unwilling with love, head and heart align
Reincarnated on earth, time and again
God’s gift of life frittered away in vain
07-September-2021
The Avenue Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Folks must be happy in Guatemala
With tax money frittered by Kamala
Will she visit the border
To 'stablish peace and order
Or is she just Joe's otiose* wallah**
(*Serving no useful purpose)
(**A person in charge or employed for a particular purpose)
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