Halfhearted Poems | Examples

Halfhearted Dragon Joel

halfhearted dragon could not puff out fire or even smoke
what has happened to our son? He is such a passive bloke
joel never gets interested in anything, he is not a life-long learner
he does not want a job, a family, he cannot turn a pancake turner

perhaps we did too much for him, we never let him take his licks.
we raised a bored, do-nothing unenthusiastic boy said his daddy Ricks
this lead to an argument, beginning of a whole bunch, truly many.
motivation does not come his way, and he is almost twenty!

halfhearted dragon heard them arguing but his head was full of wood.
he had never finished one page of homework, procrastinating good.
parents never let him grow up, but now they wanted him to change?
joel rolled his eyes at their halfhearted efforts, not willing to rearrange.

Too Little Too Late

Know of a lady
Who patiently waited

To at last be seen
Seen and heard

Given the merest scraps
 Biding her time

Time she watched fly
as the swiftest bird

Always warmed with coffee in her bed
that he chilled from his own on the couch
 
And if you ask him if he loved 
his love for her would vouch

Yet he never sought to hold her
In the cradle of his arms

That he wrapped around a pillow
As to set off no alarms

Avoidant love is no love at all
Loves a verb not a word or some halfhearted token

Trinkets and roses and card bedside that's 
her life as her spirit you've broken


never feeling the inclination to act  in ways 
Causing another strife

Till suffering year upon year 
As his beloved wife

She said when she saw the flowers
the first in twenty odd years

The sight of them belated enraged her
Enraged her to the point of tears
 

You love non connection be honest
Save your cash and keep to  your crib 

If she could you know she would gladly
hand you back your rib

So afraid of being hurt you
Half assed your way into pain

 Now rest assured at least from her
you won't be put through it again

When Is a House Haunted

Eerie parlor music squeaks out over the musty floral rug
No human people have been in here for a long time
The organ has lost some keys; which gives a weird sound
The ghosts in the attic cringe, remembering better days.
Once a showplace, the house is overrun by vermin now.

Skittering and scampering across the floor is commonplace.
Mice have nests in the rug, and in the long-forgotten divan.
Tiny streams of light come through the holes in the paper blinds.
Owners of this house have allowed it to die an unnatural death.
Urine smells keep the riffraff out; including a mother opossum.

It is the place where halfhearted spiders go to die.
Not haunted, yet, full of unhappy memories.
Why the organ plays herself, none of us know.
We wait in the shadows, willing a human to come forth.
Hoping they will somehow fix her up, making her fresh and new.

A man attempts to peek into the windows.
The organ ceases its dirge-like play.
We animals skitter into the darkest shadows.
A surprise for a realtor on this holiest of days.
Halloween, a day for crazed visitors.
Seems appropriate that he wears a mask.

Seeking My Pearl

Seeking My Pearl
Written: by Miracle Man
1-31-2020

I excel in writing when right conditions prevail,
I’m relegated to failure if I’m not giving my best.
No halfhearted effort will be of any avail,
and with that kind of effort God isn’t impressed.

A lofty goal, sometimes causes thoughts to stray,
and bar isn’t high enough if I easily reach my peak.
I just keep shucking oysters believing that someday,
God will give me the pearl that I diligently seek.

Pale Shelter

I who am…insipid, vapid bland, inadequate life
My life halfhearted I am uninspired
I am Spiritless in a place of safety refuge
I am for certain, I need,
a deed to land in life and death
How chosen are we
When the blood flows out
Still and solid I am No longer talking
Dead to live be I living
My new home is in the skies
Where I’m alive no longer dead you’re not but I am
No need for heat my God keeps me (safe and warm)
His ever presents how can I be sure ?
When all the time you changed my mind
I asked for more and more
How can I be sure safe, quiet, cozy comfortable in sanctuary?
Secluded withdrawn isolated and safe haven
refuge my sanctuary safe keeping covering me
Preserve yet my cushion life inoculate unworldly securities
Yet still I’m pathetic etiolated blanch reclusive unprivileged
So am I decrease in importance lost significance I’m blench keep safe



11/26/19

Pale shelter Poetry Contest Free verse poetry form only.
Sponsored by: John Hamilton

Thank You

Two words often spoken
in appreciation
like a polite token 
during conversation.

A halfhearted gesture
delivered on the run
a meaningless measure
habitually done.

Seething with attitude
yet politically correct
a shallow platitude
just short of disrespect.

A offhanded attempt
to cite gratitude due
and it reeks of contempt
when someone snaps...thank you!

Yet when spoken with love
they represent much more
a genuine feeling
is the goal you strive for.

And spoken from the heart
they uplift someone's pride
and a smile soon appears
for they feel good inside.

Paint Anything

Paint anything
Paint my dreams and delusions 
Paint them all bright and yellow 
For reality makes them unbearable blue 
Paint my passions all red 
Make them bleed 
Between the tales of unrequited love and broken hues
Paint anything
Paint my insecurities and doubts 
Fill them with purple misery 
Paint them sad , Paint them new 
Paint the barriers and broken hearts 
Mend them with love , paint them green 
Fill the distance between me and you 
Paint my sane state of insanity 
Fill it with chaos 
Of red , black , bold and blue 
Paint anything and everything 
Between the advances and retreats 
Halfhearted goodbyes and apologies due 
Paint and paint , with colors , sweat , blood and tears 
Paint and paint my fragility and perseverance 
With shaky hands and steady heart 
Paint and paint, till it ends, the agony and remorse 
Make it burst with flaming colors, make rainbows

The War Has Started

The war has started
All the halfhearted have departed
You wont be disregarded or outsmarted
When you come full hearted
Refuse to be converted
Even if you feel deserted
With my vision distorted
My thoughts aren't sordid
I will not be thwarted
And no time to be torpid
Through destruction so horrid 
My journey still so torrid
Keeping trust in God assures I will always be supported
Then there will be no worry of being excluded
My soul will be heavily guarded
Even when my journey has concluded
Now my vision so lucid
The Lords love will never be disputed
His warm embrace never eluded
With him my spirit unpolluted
4/27/2017

Yours

A gentle touch of her hand upon his chest
Brings "My Love Eternaal" to his lips
Certain that forever is here
Definately brings an end to the
Emptyness their hearts have felt
For a moment the silently cheer
Gracious that they were both drawn 
Heaven's light
It shines on
Janet tells a story
Kindly, this may not be true
Larry's mind begins to wander
Memories of Arbor Day
Nevermind, her story bores him
Otherwise she might have said
Pretty trees are found within
Quickly bring his mind back
Really now?   
Shall I go fix us supper? Janet asked
Trees that accompany your story
Until now were fiction, fable
Very sweetly he then spoke
Wonderment how fast they grew
X-rays should probably be taken
Years are usually required, but
Zeal means nothing is halfhearted

Parenthood

Dots of light dotted the dome
Displaying dismal disks
Halfhearted innuendos of harmony
Repetitive, unremarkable recordings
Minimally interesting, middle class, mediocre
Small wonder he thought, smirking, smarting
Discipline dismissed, discarded
Replaced with fun, funk and fad
Foolishness fueled Fukem, he fumed
No more, no more, no more
The military, military school, immediately!

Obsessive Love

Press not to flaming lips your tepid kiss

Touch not this burning form with hands of ice

A lukewarm love can never bring to bliss

Nor will indifferent love for me suffice

 

Seek not with obligation to appease

Perfunctory in making love to me

Disdain is what I feel for “gifts” as these

Tis better far, my dear, to let me be

 

For if you not assess my heart aright

And think me one to faint with weak caress

You’ve not been seared by passion’s burning might

Nor tasted honeyed dreams that I undress

 

Hope not to bed me with halfhearted plea

With love obsessive, take a hold of me



Eileen Manassian Ghali

Acquiesce ,My First Sonnet

awake I graze the naked mind undone, 
my contemplations shuffle off to her 
and no halfhearted muse, no not a one 
eclipses her insoluble liqueur, 
nor any stirring of the thoughts distill 
the past forgotten heartaches and remorse; 
and years will shed their years and on until 
the perfume dissipates and then of course 
her eyes will lose something, eventually, 
her features, now, less vivid than before, 
but now the night has other plans for me, 
and she will be my black hole paramour, 
   in time, I’ll think not on her fading face, 
   tonight, just let me think one last embrace.

Love Theories

I swore to myself I'd never be made a slave to love
Living in a dream of man-made illusions 
Listening to halfhearted discussions
About the way love ought to be
No worries, no arguments, no fear
Steering clear of too real a topic
Trying to figure out the logic
Behind the tempest trap & magic
Everyday feels worse than the last
I feel a shadow descending on my past
When I think of you...

Glory

This is the story of a beautiful horse named Glory

Freckled and spotted
She stood but a twig
Lost in a forest
Of abandonment

Tires and barbwire
Surround her by day
And at night she suffers
The coyotes cries, not far away

Left with no food
Or water to drink
She stands by a tree
And hopes for relief

Halter grown in
And hooves overgrown
Not a grain in that belly
And left all alone

Withering quick
She stands by her tree
And hopes a kind soul
Will help her to see

There is life still
No matter how grim
Things seem from beneath
This horrid, old tree

This halfhearted twig
Awaits her relief
As the days pass her by
And she writhes with grief

Her name is Glory
All freckled with spots
Like a giant Dalmatian
Trapped in this spot

At the end of her lead
She was finally freed
Not a day too soon
She'll now find relief

Halfhearted no longer
And happy at last
Whom once was a twig
Knows Glory at last

Halfhearted no longer
And free from that mess
Glory has found relief
At Horse Creek Ranch*

*Horse Creek Ranch is, to the best of my knowledge, a fictional name.

Somnolent Days and Restless Nights

Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor.
Eccentricity is custom, conventional thinking an allegation. 
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?

A photograph of wickedness captures the allure.  
Creation falsely proven, all eyes suspicious of truth.
Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor.

Smooth are the wrinkles of the aged like pebbles on the shore. 
Some think of eternity in frivolous masks with replies halfhearted.
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?

Locked in this cruel world a Savior is knocking at the door.
Desperate friends accuse each other of holding the sacred key.
Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor.

Where once the believers were thought to be a bore,
The blessed fool’s reflected death humbles his haughtiness.
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?

Fools we all are searching for light in our minds’ dark corners
Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?

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