Life Pain Poems

Ashes of the Calling

In a haze of cheap liquor and losing bets,
Where dreams drown in nights of cold sweats,
Someone scratches truths on a weary machine,
Words torn from a life raw, jagged, obscene.

Rejection mounts, a tower of scorn,
“Too crude,” they sneer, “too broken, too worn.”
The world turns away, calls the soul depraved,
Yet the words keep flowing, unpolished, unshaved.

Deadend hours

O Rhyme, How I Express My Joy in Thee

O Rhyme! how I express my joy in thee;
     but sorrow drains desire, and grace received,
depriving me of your vivacious sea
     of gilded imagery. I deceived,

for happiness and cheer leap from my page:
     though melancholy, the womb of all odes,
the false bliss which

To The Depths

I have been to the depths of despair
With physical pain
Emotional sorrow
And something more elusive
A sense of standing at the edge
With nothing behind or beyond.

I don’t assume this is anything special
In fact I assume it is a given 
For all of us
Who have lived at least 
To a certain age.

What I have learned
Which may be of

Strength to Bounce Back

                                      Strength to Bounce Back

             

The Quest For Perfection

Today,
somewhere in this world,
without fuss or a funerary
prayer, a lifeform 
has gone extinct.
It probably passed unnoticed,
its last lonely moment spent 
bleeding beneath a log 
or gasping in a shallow pond 
with its gills clogged with silt
or sliding down the gullet
of a predator.
How brutal the path is,
the sheer waste,
the cruel experimentation
whether mindful or mindless 
by something

When my Life Changed

                                         When my Life Changed

          

Storms

There are times when I am just tired of the endless rain.
Walking in the middle of this desert, once again.
No one knows the chaos of the battle I am fighting for my seed.
Faith is a choice, its something you must feed.
The darkness I feel at times, is part of the process I am facing to

It Will Always Rain on Me

It will always rain on me in all seasons. 
Seasons jacketing me with dust, 
Dust mostly from the dry season to absorb my hope.

Hope fractured in different ways in time, 
Time unendingly discoloring my soul. 
Soul trying to resist by pleading for light.

Light that kills darkness but dies in startling grief. 
Grief that mostly engraves

How We Can Learn To Love

When you see others hurting and your heart doesn’t cry,
Look inside and ask yourself the answer to your why?
The path we’re given here on Earth is so we can learn.
To begin the learning process, we must feel concern.

For each to evolve while on this Earth, each must transform.
Right choices made along the way seldom cause

Imagination

Date written: 26th July, 2025
Contest: Three Options in I Poetry
Sponsor: Constance La France
The man who has no imagination has no wings.
— Muhammad Ali
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Imagination lends me its safe wings,
So I can soar toward futures I choose,
To fill my life with hopes and precious things;
Though striking gold is never a mere cruise,
Neither are lily-livered crowned as kings.

Sweat

After Pink Clouds

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                                             After Pink Clouds

     

Kaleidoscopic Life

                                            Kaleidoscopic Life

         

Scrawls Of Heartbroken Stillness

I turn the leaves of my old diaries.
Wherein my passions and anxieties
Together with your dried rose petals, sleep.
They savor your scent and bitterly weep.

Our glances, touches, cuddles, and kisses
Fun-filled, playfully hopping-mad hisses
Our desires, dreams, hopes, and aspirations
Did all these, like sheds, have no foundations?

Creeds and credos weren't causes for our split.
What's the root of our

Getting Accustomed to Life

    They do well to accustom you to life
  
       ~ the process of going under the knife

Pain

Pain

Life can sometimes be happy. Really?
Oh, positive thinking and proactivity!
But this is an illusion only. Self-deception
Happiness is the shadow of suffering
This is the reality. Nothing else. That’s it

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