Between the negativity
And the insensitivity
There’s evil in your eyes
Kiss the jealousy goodbye
Don’t speak on my behalf
I don’t want your witchcraft
You spout nothing but hate
Spitting venom on your plate
Keep your poison, keep your lies
Your fake persona, a weak disguise
Take your grudge and take your gloom
There’s no space for it in my room
I’ll stay blessed while you stay green
Play in your mess, it’s quite the scene
Your words are dust, no fire, just old
The same old story, so tired and told
I’m locking my doors, don’t try to knock
Try and push me but I’ll sit like a rock
I’m protected by Spirit, I own my light
I glow in the dark, I thrive in the night
So sink beneath your own deceit
Your malicious intentions won’t compete
Stay mad, our worlds will never collide
I’m done with you — now step aside.
I went to the Co for shopping
Their food box got my brain popping.
It was a huge puzzle
great fuss and much fuzzle
to save my wrist from a chopping!
There are people with whom
One might disagree at certain levels.
The dividing levels might even be ones
Of insensitivity, discouragement,
And even hurtfulness.
Notwithstanding such disagreements,
One might yet endorse and support
Such a one on other, more vital levels.
In so doing, one should see it, not as
a conflict of interest, but rather as
a higher view of the big picture.
Perhaps time will smooth the rough edges
Memory soften the toughness of his words
But now they must wrap him in moment’s lie
Bathe him in a flow of moistened myths
Will any speak of who he really was
Chuckle at his insensitivity
Mask the folly of his arrogance
Tickle the timber of his humility
Will they dabble in theories of life’s meaning
Standing on the abyss of time’s canyon
Or focus on the meaning of his life
His presence, his laughter, his sharp wittiness
We know he would not care for flowers or bagpipes
Would tolerate quiet sadness
Perhaps an unintentional chuckle
At a whispered one liner
He would not care for too many prayers
Would love those “remember that time” stories
For they let him find a way to say farewell
Knowing that he left you all a piece of his self
Darkness cascades,
When dawn fades.
Reigning is rare
Until dusk spades
Into depth of faiths,
Not a day but decades.
Insensitivity impairs
But care repairs
Authenticity is supreme
It's not just in my dream
Anymore on just lash's rim.
Rebirth is not a flair,
It cleaves through twilight
Like an ineffable beam
You make me happy.
You are full of life.
You represent everything I need.
Please, call me mine.
These are my sweet, weak but effective lines to get through your walls;
they work like magic, always.
My first week with you will be soothing;
I'll take you to a paradise of ecstasy,
and you'll forget your worries.
Wait, give me a little time,
and I'll commit my usual wrongdoings,
projecting myself as the victim,
where you'll pay dearly for my insensitivity and lust.
Don't forget, you're just an option in my dealings.
You will never grow tired of the world I've created with you,
but I can revisit my dirt;
I'll hurt you and drag you through the mud.
I won't give you access to my temple;
you don't need to complain,
for I'll be accountable only when I'm with you.
I'm comfortable with the wrong impression;
above all, I'm not meant to be kept, due to my nature.
Do not be despicable
It is really terrible
How your attitude is being
Your humanity is fleeting
More and more each time I see
Your mannerism, its clearly
Out of control, so out of whack
All you ever do is attack
With words of fury and disgust
That break down and badly bust
Anyone that comes your way
Thinking it is fun to play
With the fragile emotions
Clueless about any notion
How much pain you are inflicting
Or the way it is affecting
The lives you are tearing apart
Where is the love in your heart
Your ice cold and do not know
How this freezing leaves a glow
Of hurtfulness or does it matter
Your about to really shatter
Into a million broken pieces
Everyone who ever reaches
All the iciness inside
The dark pit you always hide
Only coming out when you
Want someone to feel blue
Does it make you happy when
A day is ruined once again
By your insensitivity
Can't you realize and see
There is another way to live
If you'd try to care and give
Less of your ignorance
In return you'd know kindness
Thawing that icy cold heart
You can make a better start
The way in which we’ll be ourselves
I exist bound by you
like wildflowers planted pitilessly in dry soil
that plunder and devour the strength of my seeds
My stem grows pallid
My petals scentless and uninspiring
My roots withering in arid dust
strangled by weeds of apathy
Parched in the blight of callous care
Squandered in winds of insentient lies
That snare fire like fugitive arsons
Burning me with insensitivity to shrivel and sicken
As you beget your vanity with the strength
Of the Sun’s scalding degrees
So scarce the waters of your compassion
that scarcely feed my soul
I stand naked, bare and weak
in the barren home inside your pain
I cling harder to grip
As I wither in the dust of lonely casualty
Strangled and forfeited
I slowly die clenched in your fist of willful despair
trembling from your demise
As my unseeing love yields the compromise
May 24, 2023
Brian Strand Premier No. 1219 Poetry Contest
What do we know about poverty,
What do we understand about suffering…
It’s a miracle that we were born into families
Who had enough food to eat and share,
Celebrate festivals lavishly with gifts and delicacies,
Enough space to live, and comfortably too!
Enough clothes to protect from ravages of weather!
What if we didn’t!
Born in a non-affluent country,
Seen the down-trodden,
Seen people begging, starving,
Living in the most miserable conditions,
Also seen the opposite,
People flaunting their expensive clothes,
Jewellery, houses and cars,
Without slightest remorse or feelings of pain!
Poverty is a curse, but
Being super-wealthy might be a curse too!
It’s like living in a man-made island,
With blinded eyes, and unfeeling heart,
Surrounded by walls of cruelty, and
Insensitivity!
My mother is dead.
Life continues for others.
I see them mowing their lawns.
Children are outside, playing, laughing and swinging.
I know how you feel some idiot says.
My mother is gone.
No more laughter.
No more smile.
No time to say I am sorry.
No time to hear I love you.
I know how you feel some idiot says.
My mother would be rolling her eyes.
She would make fun of their insensitivity after they go.
We would giggle about the ridiculousness of this stupid saying.
I know how you feel.
Of course they could not.
She is not their mother
And she is gone.
Exhaustion drips its weary head
Shrouding me with desolate apparel
A forlorn wardrobe of melancholy blues
Colors of emotional peril.
Indifference holds my body still
Unconcerned with the cold
Distant journeys in my thoughts
Apathy strong in its hold.
Nonchalance a steady companion
Detaching me from reality
Unaroused by what’s in front of me
I’ve lost all sense of vitality.
Inattention stands unyielding
Unwilling to make way for diligence
Insensitivity plants a seed
Growing strong in its militance.
Numbness gnaws away at my spirit
Paralyzed from its greed
Dulled by life’s anesthesia
I lack the passion to be freed.
Carefully we planned for the big day
Oblique qualms and doubts drove me away
Moody and thoughtless insensitivity
Maudlin thoughts curbed the festivity
Onerous thoughts like small transmitters
Now revealed my flutters and flitters
Ashamed, you admitted you had the jitters
Laughingly we both had learned
Intimacy shared is intimacy earned
Treasuring our love, our life unknown
You and I, together we’ve grown.
Truth can be hurtful
Aw! I know it's spiteful!
Insensitive even
But I don't know to speak otherwise
Never learned to, probably never will.
So here is my promise;
To upset you with the truth
Since you are wise, I believe
You will understand
Change maybe!
And I will be sorry later
Not for telling it
Only for breaking you
With its insensitivity
But generally grateful
For my honesty
I'm that dog sitting in the rain over his best friend's grave.
I've waited fifteen years for your spirit to brush against my spirit.
I believe some brown-thumbed clod pruned your heart.
Cut too often- too deeply with a blade of insensitivity.
Honed his cruelty on your vulnerabilities.
Made himself a shrine from your broken pieces.
Tossed you to the darkness, cleaved your light.
Then offered you a cool drink on the coldest night of your life.
I'm the dog in the rain waiting indefinitely.
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