Keyless Poems

Eavesdrop

Truths were told, yet beatings continue
He knows but he won’t intervene
Cries are heard from the floors below
He hears the damage she causes
et he remains hidden behind mahogany doors
Our lips gasped for air, as her grip tightens
Whispered pleas of repentance from what, 
we did not know.
Shadows dance behind doors
An entity lingered with hushed sighs.
TV muffled their screams, desensitized him of
there woes.
His porcelain dolls shedding scarlet tears. 
Pillows hollowed out there screams of intense pain.
Through the looking glass, they lay blank stares, 
and outstretched hands, reaching...but for who?
He did not intervene.
Strained eyes through keyless holes
Stifled sighs as he did nothing but 
Eavesdrop

A CONCENTRIC ODE TO APATHY

Urgent is the will,
The self is as still as the night;
Apathy controlling;
Urgency calling, 
The will remains imprisoned;
And apathy, keyless;
Urgency calling,
Apathy, shedding useless tears;
Fear controlling action:-

Genesis begins all,
Revelation ends it all;
Life dwells in between:-
Apathy is like a cold stone
Nestling in the mud;
Decision, like a swing in the wind;
Action roars like a lion,
And races like a waterfall
Roaring to its destiny;

Cold stones are no match
For angry sledgehammering chaos,
And in sunlight, mud dries and crusts over:-
Life should be woven
In a web of love, netting all
In a beehive of togetherness;

Indeed, there is no apathy 
In the lives of hiving bees;
They live in onederful oneness:-
Let us strive to live life
In conscientious, concentric,
Cosmic onement;
Let us strive to live life, 
Void of all senses of neglected apathy;
Let’s choose to be as bees, not as the mud:-

A Keyhole

         oh, the world out there....                  
           I can see***daylight, 
          a thread*      *of light
            emerging  gradually, 
           creeping*    *indoors;
     moonbeam*        *piercing 
         through*           * the dark.
      a keyless*********keyhole

Whittling Down

As we age, we whittle down
The things that we can do
Or the ways that we can do them
So we last the whole day through.

I’ve whittled down my exercise
And how much I can drink.
My energy’s been whittled 
And my brain’s begun to shrink.

I’ve whittled my acquaintances,
Though some were not my fault
And my memory’s been whittled 
Or locked in a keyless vault.

I’ve whittled down my travels
And my need to shop and buy.
Some hobbies have been whittled,
Which I loved; I don’t know why.

My knife is sharper than my mind
So I won’t be belittling
The ways it goes about its job,
As time goes by, of whittling.

Less

Phones, wireless.
Cooking, fireless.
Cars, keyless.
Food, fatless.
Tires, tubeless.
Youth, jobless.
Leaders, shameless.
Relationships, meaningless.
Attitudes, careless.
Babies, fatherless.
Feelings, heartless.
Children, manner less.
We are speechless.
Government is clueless.
Politicians are worthless,
and I am scared ****less.

Cars Today Do Not Come With Keys

Cars today do not come with keys.
You are handed a little elongated remote fob thing.
Silver and black, looks science fiction-ish.

If you are me, you think there is a button somewhere.
If you flick it, the teeth of the key will appear like a switchblade.
But

N
N
N
O
O
O

That does not happen.
It is a keyless car; you have to have the fob to start it
But there is a start button. 
It took me several tries and the delivery man jumped in twice.
He explained it, and I jumped back in.
But I did not get it until the second time.
The trick is – you have to put your foot on the brake and keep it there
Until you push the start button and hear it start.
If it has a real soft engine, you do not hear it at all.
I was terrified we had bought a car I could not ever start.

Oh Stupid Me

Though I knew the coming storm
House keys I carelessly kept
Look, storm attacks me
Arrived home keyless
Now I'm in trouble
Stupid I am
Oh, stupid.

Drencho POET Loads

Keyless

We're born keyless
then given our first key to play with
we earn our first key of responsibility
to mobilize-to enter things
to cage things-to abuse things
like a warden with a cluster of keys
letting the good in- keeping the bad out
or is it the other way around
a steady stream of keys.
     Like a bird-every key sings
only a few keep your secrets
eventually there is a chorus of keys
secrets chirp chirping merrily 
     Most of mine(secrets) are silver or gold
some are dirty some are clean
only one of them are king
but none of them are green
none of them are green.
     We often lose them
a mad search commences
like a red eye druggie rooting for a quick fix
we smile and sigh when we find them 
hugging them as if they were our children
      Keys grow old become battered and bent 
some wriggle off the ring 
the years deepen we have fewer keys 
keys are a lot like friends
what a relief it must be to be keyless again

Path Finding

There is no Path
but there is where I have trod.

There is no Path
but there are promises.

There is no Path
despite the signs.

There is no Path
despite the flagstones.

There is no Path
but there is where I have trod.

I may only truly
come to've earned the word
'path' at all
if after walking,
if after blazing,
if after course-correcting,
if after wearing thin the souls,
if after pollinating the soil;
step-by-step;
as a bee,
as a bird,
as the wind...

If I should spin
on heels
and cast a gaze
from whence I came
I may then call that
...a path.

But it is locked in the 
keyless prison of representation
and, if it weren't,
it'd only then
be my path
not yours;
and even not mine
for I've walked
and changed
so, no.
Despite some sort of arrival
and having walked-ness

the 'path' seized
in quiet desperation by my mind
must one day be loosed
and seen for 
all its never-there-before
'twasn't true-ness.

There is no Path
but there is where I have trod.

Keyless Entry

Keyless Entry

Lengthy corridors that lead to shrinking doors
surrounded by the closing in of walls
narrowing of purpose seeking escape

Windowless views of endlessness
masquerade as madness
fueling the fire of the madman

Scanning non-existent horizons
for silhouetted ghost ships
adrift on a troubled mind

Keyless, claw marked doors
unsure of what resides
on either side


3/30/2017

submitted to – Doors – Poetry Contest

Fear

The inner resources of our being
attacked to it's very inward core
you think this is stealing my identity
devastated looking dead on the floor
 
No matter much you try to lift
nothing works from your present state
it seems you're locked in keyless state
you don't even feel any purposeless hate
 
Such lifeless unreality feels so true
but don't give up for there's hope
you've a voice to make your cry
utter a prayer cling to a rope
 
For God will be your one great deliverer
all your enemies the Lord will surely defeat
no fear will truly eternally overcome you
fear Him alone bowing at His feet
 
The Lord your God reigns supreme
no matter what we actually feel
this we can say utterly confident
for our eternal security He does seal!


(some thoughts on fear and the devastating effect they can have upon us remembering there's always hope, praise God!)

My Heart

My heart is in pieces, shattered and bruised
The hardest part of being used
I'm picking up what is left, locking it away
A keyless lock, combination unknown
A fragile heart without a home
Shake the box, foundation undone
A tiny piece given here or there
Not easily done, scared to be broken once more

To Get What You Want

You expect me to come you
To ask to talk 
Like I normally do
Even if I'm not at fault 
I still seem to always be the one the wants to talk
But now my heart is a keyless vault
If you want to be friends come talk to me
I doubt you will
But lets wait and see
I wish you would 
I truly do
I don't think you could 
You choose not to confront
You hide behind glares
Unless it helps you to get what you want

I'M Keyless, Chuck

         "Hey kids! have you seen the keys for the door
I'm sure I put them down there before
     I'm thinking this place is haunted
    Or is your mother being taunted
          Own up, or your backsides are gonna be sore"




  Why cant I find my keys?

Keyless Corridor

the lilac lake lulls me
touches my hair and pats me gently
letting me doze into a comfort
reminiscent of a womb of irretrievable memory
i fall asleep

the moon, like hope
shining serene through darkness
mother nature's nightlight 
beckons me into the renowned repeating dream
i fall asleep

and somewhere within
you were calling
the nightmare now 
all too much to bear
behold, i say
and stand asunder
my composure waning
half putty
the other fully congealed
behold, i repeat
and hold your arm
knowing you no longer
care to be witness
to a darkness unknown
but so familiar
where do the willows weep
in this embankment 
of stark black unreality?
not on either side
or even hidden by
the shadows' shadows
there is no life among us
only we, only us
solemn, revealed
mortified

the room was satisfyingly tepid
the crackle of the fireplace hummed
with an ambience like that which was
beckoned from the garden of the gods
i fell asleep 
and never woke up

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