Perhaps my weakness
I was a little easy to tame
Though mischeavious
That was this dame
How l was so oblivious
To her constant mind game
As if it was not so obvious
Or at the time a little lame
All seemed so meaningless
But then who l ask is to blame
When you know what devious
Was her actual name
Already on hete just wanted do small abab like othersfollow up tootjer writes high and dry ,scheaming ,web of deceit,aboit an ex who would play mind games
VULNERABILITY
A love so deep tis' nevermore,
into itself it drowns.
Love's well intent, worth not a cent.
subsurface thought abounds.
Dare not to speak of life's past woes,
open not the heart too wide.
Lest the spark leap from her eye,
and the love's left high and dry.
Tis' not the words, nor what is meant,
tis' that the tale was told.
The deeper down your love is felt,
the less it must be sold.
Oft seen as weak, subconsciously,
still waters yet run deep.
Resist this plea for intimacy
and sow the love you'll reap.
My empty glass is mocking me.
It laughs at my proclivity.
It led me here and knocked me down.
Another drink and I will drown.
They told me it would be such fun,
But now that it’s all said and done,
I see all that they did not say
As my heart led my head astray…
My empty wallet seems to cry.
The tab has left me high and dry.
I thought I had a little more
But I’ve so much less than before.
A victim of my overreach.
I’m just an old dog you can’t teach.
I fall back on familiar ways.
So, here I am ‘til end of days..
An empty heart, an aching head…
Just help me make it to my bed.
Please do not leave me where I lay;
My foolish choices on display.
They tell me anyone can change.
The ways of grace are awfully strange.
So, that’s what I’ll do come the dawn.
My promises go on and on…
Pick me up and take me home
I can’t make it on my own
I’m laid out upon the floor
I can’t make it to the door
I need a lift so call a ride
And maybe help me get outside
I am stuck here all alone
And I just want to make it home.
I just want to make it home.
VULNERABILITY
A love so deep tis' nevermore,
upon itself it drowns.
Neath glass facade of shallow trust
subsurface thoughts abound.
Dare not to show how deep love grows
it leaves no place to hide.
The bodies swell, and start to smell,
and love's left high and dry.
Tis' not the stench, nor what is meant.
tis' that the tale was told.
The deeper down your love is felt,
the less it must be sold.
Oft seen as weak, subconsciously.
Still waters yet run deep.
Resist this plea for intimacy
and sow the love you'll reap.
When the earth stands still what will we do?
Will we go to work as normal
or will we fly off the edge?
Will the news report on it?
Will they tell us to stay calm?
Will the children still wake up for school?
And will the fridge still hum at night?
Or will all hell break lose
as people abandon their humanity?
I know I'll come find you, my safe space.
Cuddle up nice and warm, somewhere high and dry,
and watch the cacophony
as everything I've ever known
violently
fades
around
me.
Last continent to which humans did divert;
Antarctica has highest elevation.
Frozen tundra limits its vegetation;
With slight precipitation—a cold desert.
Final Earth region sighted—1820;
98 percent covered by mile-thick ice.
Compared to Australia, its size nigh twice;
Subglacial lakes give it water aplenty.
Antarctic Treaty signed by 50 nations;
Protects ecozone of this land south polar.
During high summer, full days of light solar,
For thousands of people at research stations.
Despite harsh conditions, wildlife survives here.
Snow petrel, other birds have Antarctic home.
Fur seals, emperor penguins, other breeds roam;
One thousand-plus species of fungi appear.
Though it’s the fifth largest continent in size,
Antarctica leads in average wind speeds.
Controlling sea levels, serving other needs;
Keeping Antarctic ice shelves stable is wise.
'While stranded high and dry
unemployed skippers ate a lot of kippers'
which smacks of a red herring to me
is a tale told when we were but nippers
altho' with neither fowl nor feline
in a beautiful pea-green boat
the motley crew who put to sea
were assuredly safe and sound when afloat
but then as ocean water rose within
thereby a somewhat large hole revealing
the now woeful matelots felt dreadfully unhappy
as they smelt a strange yet serious sinking feeling
for sadly a rather bad leak had sprang in the bilge below
and their ship went down like the proverbial stone
so the jobless captains fared far better
as landlubbers secure ashore home on their own
i took the litany of your diagnosis
on the groove of my tongue
down on my knees, I welcomed your terminological dominion
over my awfully sullied canvas
i closed my eyes, submitting myself to your word’s sterilization
frosting over my elasticity until I’m exactly what you want
am I what you want me to be yet?
will I ever be enough for the words on your page?
my wrists tear against the bloody shackles
your covenant exacts its price against my emotional crimes
the miscommunicated ex-communication of my mercurial being
leaves my mind high and dry, higher and dryer
i’m a zombie to your cure
infected by your frame of thought
FIX ME
TO THE FLOORS OF YOUR BUREAUCRATIC APATHY
AS I SLOWLY BUT SURELY
DIE
IN YOUR ARMS
NOT COMFORTABLY
BUT NONETHELESS
in your arms.
…
So, what would YOU do for a Klondike Bar?
Tears of the Dragon Poetry
Contest //Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Contest Judged: 8/26/2025 11:56:00 PM
( 6th Place )
Written: August 18, 2025
I stood on the crag where the sea breathed fire,
its winds tearing at the very shape of my name.
The sky was a shattered mirror
each splinter a memory I had tried to leave high and dry,
but still they cut as they fell through me.
In the distance, the dragon turned its head.
Its eyes held storms I had feared all my life.
Its wings-- the weight of every road I never dared to walk.
I thought I’d come here, to vanquish it
But the revelation was, it had come to set me free.
Its roar did not strike me down.
It shredded the silence that had been my prison.
Tears flowed hot and unyielding
spilling the ashes of years into the waiting tide.
The wind rose, not to push me back,
but to carry me forward.
And when the dragon soared away.
Its shadow left no darkness behind.
Only a sky wide enough
for the first flight of my own wings.
Am I on an island launching bottles out to sea
beached at the waterline will someone rescue me
I'm drowning not waving as the boats go by
abandoned at high tide does anyone hear my cry
here am I sad to say writing messages in the sand
marooned a lonely castaway will somebody lend a hand
if I'm on an island will my ship come in
or has it run aground did it go down
with only thoughts of you to keep me alive
when will my ship ever arrive
here on an island sending signals from the shore
stranded high and dry will no one hear my call
found my freedom a big mistake I made
there's not another living soul around
loneliness the price I paid
and my tears are the only sound
if only my time I could rewind
but am I really on a deserted island
or is it only in my mind
Have you ever had an ‘I’ve wasted my whole life’ moment
If you have, or if you can close your eyes and imagine one…
You don’t necessarily have to be 'that old,’ though
you may sob harder at the age of dwindling returns
… The pain is soul-searing: you’ve poured your heart
into a child, a close relative, a relationship, a marriage
and now you’ve been left irretrievably high and dry,
so you have failed… miserably...
There’s no one can ‘coach you’ through waves of despair
stomach-churning nausea, ready to devour you
No ‘pep talk magic’ to revive your spirits, to restore your equilibrium
‘Pep talks’ are for performers; you are not acting, your pain is real
But there is this: It's All Good. For you.
~ Consider the Source.
Play me a song, but not just any tune.
I'm not here to dance, or sing along in June.
I don't need rhythms that make my heart leap high,
Just give me notes that echo, and a melody that sighs.
Play me not a hopeful melody.
Hope is a promise dressed in disguise.
It soothes for a moment, then slips away,
Hurting more than it ever helps.
A whisper that fades, leaving you high and dry.
Sing me no song of fleeting joy.
Joy dances in, then fades just as quick.
A blissful moment meant to make us forget,
Then leave us with tears it failed to predict.
Do give me a song, but not for love.
Love is a myth wrapped in pain.
When it fades, only sorrow remains.
Happy memories now slipping away.
A wound that hums and sings along,
Trying to soothe where love went wrong.
I need a song that speaks to my soul,
A melancholy tune that makes me whole.
A song that paints my nostalgia, and brings back the past,
A reminder of what's lost, and what will forever last.
Play me a sad song, one that knows my name,
A song that understands the depths of my pain.
Not for hope, or joy, or love's sweet lie,
But to help me face the ever lasting truth.
I'm on an island
marooned
a lonely castaway
beached at the waterline
launching bottles out to sea
abandoned
high and dry
my boat went down
it ran aground
but wait
what's that I see
can it be
a footprint in the sand
someone to lend a hand
my ship's come in
it's at the quay
no more sending signals
from the shore
the weekend's here
to rescue me
Did the first creature to crawl
out of the proverbial, primal primordial,
onto the sand,
feel like a fish out of water,
out of its depth,
when high and dry on land?
With no wish to carp or cock a snook
I won't leave you in the lurch
but oh my cod take a look
what a plaice to perch
as just for the halibut
putting seahorses out to paddock
is enough to give one
a severely bad haddock
so no red herring I don't flounder around
take a peeled eel flake of baked hake
plus a pinch of pickled pilchard
and an ichthyic sandwich make
but if my words are vitriolic
you may grunt and kiss my bass
as it's all a load of pollock(s)
Diamond boy on a late night ride with temptation cheering to good days. Like him you only see the good in people amongst all the stars. Like it prove it cause if it's up to me I'd give you all the dreams in retrograde. So, cry baby cry baby cry. I'm gonna cheer you on just so I can turn you on even with half of me to get the whole me with this spiritual love affair. I want to be with you within the heavenly stars and only you never to leave you hanging high and dry. You're a heart of gold boy. Discovering every part of you and my alter ego it's like being in the lime light while the garden drip tantalizes the blind sights of many for every eye to be set upon you and the other side of who I am. we will be iconic stars stars stars iconic stars burning hot like the heat of monochrome film.
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