It’s there
Y’know
Like the aftermath of pop corn
Stuck
Irretrievably
Ensconced
Imbedded
In the grinding mechanism
Dodging the gnash
Of frustration need
Y’know
That pesky poetic seed
Tormenting synaptic calm
Buzzing like a 2AM mosquito
Humming an unheard song
Dancing on the edge of a thought
Whispering in the silence
Of poetic lethargy
Arise, oh muted muse,
Grasp the trembling gauntlet
Lend it purpose
Suit it in poetic armor
Mount your steed
LET THE JOUSTING BEGIN
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.
Sucked up and up, of this thought
Which cyclonic blows.
I'll admit, irrefutably
As irretrievably!
More wondrous than the wildest
Imaginative ride.
For what, in truth is set down
On life's other side.
I recall writing checks in my spidery crawl.
The TV then was a humming spaceship
with glowing innards that deep-scanned
all who glued their flickering, bug-eyed minds to it;
it abducted whole families at a time.
That same television
materialized microwaves as heavy as lead ingots
replacing bread bins
while ushering in decades of TV dinners.
“Radio Shack’ and “Block Busters’ were thriving
The short brutal war between Betamax and VHS
was long over.
Cars had not yet learned to speak.
Many men thought that learning to type
would be a waste of their valuable time.
We had to go out to get stuff.
Fish in fish tanks
were considered adult entertainment.
The long married kept their sex life
hid like a ‘sixteen millimeter’ movie
projected onto the back of their brains.
Camera film had to be sent away
to be often irretrievably lost.
The food pyramid was thought to be
the right way up – we were already fat-heads.
We trusted the nightly news.
Then the Net captured us,
we found we had many hidden talents,
some even discovered how to wriggle their ears
and both at the same time!
sun rises followed by a sunset
one then another and another
time slips through our fingers
sand through the hourglass
vanishing irretrievably
precious, precious time
AP: 2nd place 2022
A mind has irretrievably cracked,
After its owner was purposely attacked,
The fact as clear as Midday Sun
His attacker was his own son!
A doubly chilly killing discovery
That defies one to hint at possible recovery
The Attack: Son’s intended disrespect
By way of insistence to publicly inspect
And strictly every goddamned aspect
Of Daddy’s avowed honest prospect:
Daddy’s sincerity of purpose making a trifle
And he sure that his son did secret laughter stifle,
Though with a face officially contorted
Sometimes with mockery distorted …
A son impressing his having acquired
All that it clearly required
To a father’s feeling pointedly ruffle
And forewarn his dropping in the next shuffle.
There is only love
when we leave the other
behind – our world of others:
Commitments deemed by
self so paramount,
we become perpetually
addicted to treadmills;
inducted wrong-tracks
adhering as a second
skin –
The rain can
fall but the plain will never
give back, if the permeable
depths irretrievably
No benefit by making
of one's self a non
irrigable desert –
having wandered too far and
stored up too little –
the well used sayings
about burning bridges
and being a spendthrift,
they apply to the heart and
soul as well--
Love often...but wisely....
The New Year
like a blank page
appears before me
Brings hope
that new days
dawn in peace,
Not clouded
by divisiveness
by pestilence
That body, soul, and spirit
will be in 2021
finally, free …
2020 will be irretrievably gone
forever!
What becomes of a lost glory?
When it vanishes, does it take hope along?
Does it explode....
Like dynamite and smell like smoke?
Does it sink irretrievably deep
Into the depths of a stygian abyss?
Or does it float away hopelessly
Out of sight and reach
Like an untethered balloon?
Does the heat of the sun burn it
Into scattered ash like Icarus' wings?
Does it dangle dangerously on the precipice
Of a cliff about to tumble over like timber?
Is it easy or hard to recapture?
Is it like searching and finding
A tiny pebble that has been thrown so far?
STANDARD NO 120,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,UPTO A MAX OF 20 lines
Sponsored by Brian Strand(Winner: 1st Place)
Date written and posted: 09/30/2018
A shrouded moon hides my nightmares
not really of my own making,
but they persist to cling to me,
the memories a mirage lost like flotsam
bobbing and tossing in mid-sea.
His Pan-like charm lured me like a siren
giving me a peek of sun into my dark caves
His wit would put a smile into a stone idol
and I was sucked headlong into his world
only to find it a well of black
a vacuum quieter than silent
the silence vanishing backwards.
My world is now painted in shades of grey
a whirl of taunting, aching images.
I am rolling a boulder endlessly uphill,
reaching a mental precipice where I dangle
dangerously on a broken bridge.
The past has bestowed on me the gift of loneliness,
happiness irretrievably lost - was it all a gothic blunder?
her hand cold with the death of romance
obligatory touch
we watched it erode like a mountain chipped away by cheap winds
irretrievably sad
but still the flowers roll out, the cards keep coming
the quick peck kisses and morning goodbyes
the syringe shooting shared history into nostalgic veins
as dark radio rains throw branches against our chopin windowpanes
forever stuck in this merry mad dog affair
nightfall- sleep cascades death valley summer selling brooklyn bridge coffins that could fill mystery oceans in the space that lay between us
in this long forgotten sunken ship bed
Drowning is excrutiating.
More so in your own blood,
Your illusions.
Slowly, I hum along to the
tune of my own death.
What else could a puppet do
But dance?
Death is a treasure. Peaceful.
Life is torture. Unbearable.
Ashes lie where a bright flame flickered.
Violently extinguished.
Choked by a diet of untruths.
My endurance is puzzling.
Maybe i was ensnared-
Irretrievably bound.
Inevitable isn't it?
To feel the ripping of a heart
And the extermination of young emotions.
The humming ceases-
The end is near.
His pulsing palm is
where my pump rests.
The fiction" I love you,"
sometimes seems so true.
Love is pain.
Pain is not love
Crying uncontrollably
Hoping for a reprieve
Rarely coherent
Irretrievably broken
Stifling in tears
Trying to keep it together
Makes a token effort
Always lost
Sinks further
sum total
of recollections,
of expectations, life;
all that can no longer be undone,
all that is yet to be done;
what has finally gone,
what is yet to come;
the irretrievably lost,
the hopefully promised,
a continuum
of everything that was,
is, will be,
the midpoint
of which
is the here and now,
the two of us,
you,
me.
Your need lingered over me,
Demanding and squalling,
Drowning me in your
Chaotic desperation,
And suffocating the memories
We might have made.
Though you heard,
You would not listen
To the pleadings
Of long lost visions,
Even as they danced
Before your eyes.
Then you mistook
My vulnerabilities
For weaknesses,
And mounted your encapsulation
With grand fortitude,
Masquerading as love.
My belief in you
Was shattered
By those bruised moments,
Irretrievably committed
To the dedication
Of your definition.
So came the day
When your audacity
Compelled my strength
And I would not surrender
To your abuse,
Regardless of your lies.
Now a powerful bird finds
This place heartbreaking,
For the soaring dignity
That will never be -
Because I will not allow
My wings to be clipped.
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