Long Abashed Poems
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On a farm in a community of drudgery and toil lived a man alone
He had lost so much in his life and had so little to show
For the multitude of years, sweat and love that honed his bones
It left him with a life that filled him with weariness and woe
His hands were worn and spoke of diligence and conflicted dedication
His back was bent with the gravity of time and travail
He stooped as he walked with the shame of his frustration
He gave up and gave in to time in his hellish self-made jail
The only object of his affection was misspent and terrifyingly grim
An old jalopy that brought back the memory that broke his soul and did him in
It was rusted and bent, dented and spent, hollow and sunken-in
The pockmarked paint was covered with years of cobweb phantoms
Every night exactly at nine o'clock his fragile mind would coax him
Out to the barn where the ghostly car sat abashed
Waiting once more for his rendezvous within
To tell his nightmare relived and retold when his world tumbled and crashed
He opened the door as it creaked and popped
And into the seat he plopped down like before
His hands on the wheel, his foot on the brake frantically trying to stop
His breath reigning terror and screaming to a roar
Then quietly he bowed his head as tears would prevail
Washing away the memory that killed his entire family
And left him alone in a loveless home that was his jail
Living with his guilt and unbearable misery
July 21, 2019
I am free as a bird
Ready to discover this wondrous world
I am dressed to the nines
Seeking a knight in shining armor
He will be handsome alright
Defending me from life’s lows and sorrows
I shall be his flower, ready to be plucked
Oh my petals shall lust for his kiss
The big city a delight, as I shop all night!
As I gaze upon the handsome men all over
I am hopeful one shall take my hand
So they we might begin a lovers journey
Night time jazz, clubs filled with hazy smoke
Man after man after drink and nothing of substance
What’s a pretty girl to do?
Another night of blackness and no shining black knight
So off I wander to the city park
The lush smell of green filling the air
There is a graveyard up over there
A promenade among the dead
There under the moonlit sky, is an old man
His hair all white, his dress somewhat wrinkled
He seems to star into nothingness
Ah but his eyes are clear blue like the ocean true
I am abashed yet I stare into these crystal blue eyes
Something stirs from within me, yes I see as clear as day
The kindness and compassion within this weathered old man
I lose my breath, this is foolish for I just know somehow, I know I know
I walk up to him, and kiss him on the lips as I should not
This is not me, yet I know this is exactly me, I just know
He looks with sadness, and says simply "I am a dead man, from long ago"
I kiss him once more and say “I will return three days hence and we shall see"
Three days later, like a statue he stands stoically still and almost in fear
I take his hand, and whisper, life is full of miracles
We have no time to lose, I see into your beauty and I see into your pain
Hold me and love me, I am yours completely, in the falling rain
Sipping on a drink
A sweet, cherry sprite soda
Shirley temple bliss!
Up in Arrowhead
I catch a glimpse of green trees
Mountainous nature
Squirrels and birds I see
Beautiful times spent in glee
Honoring Shirley
Walking the dog...tread
With me in the deep forest
In pure paradise
I take a short break
Then, I run on the treadmill
Thirsty for something
And that something is
That Shirley temple I had
At a restaurant
Resting and eating -
I am on a vacation,
Quenched spiritually
My nose was running
Abashed, I reached the bathroom
Sang my favorite song
Positive mindset
No longer doused in dismay
Gulping up sweet grace
Feeding on knowledge
That's not from this evil Earth...
Relaxed temple - mirth!
Fill cup to the brim
They forgot to add cherry
Shirley's my dear whim
The Lord of Accord
Is the one I worship with...
Rev'rence and love...Sweet!
My love, to you, I think tis fair
That all the world is thus compared
In evenings eye the stringy ray
In mornings stir the colloquial way
Which nature flaunts her sallow cheeks
Or bats a blushing eye indeed.
For in the call of natures wake
Which sun and moon do both partake
No crimes of passion are proclaimed
No hearts abashed are yet ashamed
For sun is star but simply-bold
Drawing nigh the world of olde
And moon is rash with subtle charm
Embraced by midnights wanton arms
Thus sun and moon-what ornaments!
Revolving round thy comeliness
For men of science thus have deemed
Some force or weight draws them-see?
But in a quiet hour I’ve supposed
Thine earthly presence lures them so.
Hence-my love I think tis fair
All the world is thus compared
A field of rose upon thy cheeks
The sound of autumn when you sleep
The slight and fragrant whispering
Of all that nature can achieve
God hath surely granted thee.
I seem to live in a dream
I have lost all control it seems
I deem to be on your lovely team
I scream as we turn to the seams
Gleam like those eyes in the river’s reflection
I lost my direction, give me some affection
You seem to dream away your denial
You leap into my arms and made me feel psychological
I seem to live in a dream and I begin to scream
I have crashed into your arms, baby
I love the smile on your face, it begins to beam
I am abashed to say the least honestly
I’m crazily in love and I’m feeling free
I’m constantly thinking of you, my baby
Can’t you see I’m mad for you?
Can’t you see I’m sad for you too?
Delighted to see you once more
You give me wings to soar
I love you to the core
Gleam like those eyes in the river’s reflection
I lost my direction, give me some affection
You seem to dream away your denial
You leap into my arms and made me feel psychological
I seem to live in a dream and I begin to scream
I have crashed into your arms, baby
I love the smile on your face, it begins to beam
I am abashed to say the least honestly
I’m crazily in love and I’m feeling free
I’m constantly thinking of you, my baby
You made me not at all fretful
You made me feel so plentiful
You make me a rose so beautiful
You are a considerate, compassionate soul
You are the push to my pull
You’re the yin to my yang
You gave me words to sing
I like when you do your thing
You give me a reason to take wing
Gleam like those eyes in the river’s reflection
I lost my direction, give me some affection
You seem to dream away your denial
You leap into my arms and made me feel psychological
I seem to live in a dream and I begin to scream
I have crashed into your arms, baby
I love the smile on your face, it begins to beam
I am abashed to say the least honestly
I’m crazily in love and I’m feeling free
I’m constantly thinking of you, my baby
I’m crazily in love with you, babe, I’m proud
No shame to be with you and our love’s not blind
As long as you save me from crying oh so aloud
I’m a deep shade of purple-blue with you on my mind
I seem to live in a dream
Gleam like a stream…
I blush and I begin to scream
Your treasured reflection’s beam…
They saw you naked,
And yet, fully clothed,
They saw your skin glisten,
Despite the bruises and scars,
That you intended to shroud,
They saw you naked,
And they loved it.
A touch of a hand,
A raspy Mississippi muttered,
And despite your abashed flinch,
His chest swells with pride,
Tonight, as he sleeps,
The stroke of your finger restored his hope,
And he loved it.
And yet I hear the cracking of a whip,
See the scar it left as it touched your skin,
The sharpened blade glued to your sleeve,
You gashed your back and slept of ice,
But your broken heart mended two,
And despite your denials every night,
I know you looked pretty today.
BARREN DESERT
I wander in open wide barren desert alone
on camel-ride drawing in the reins,
the only companion of my lone adventure.
Sizzling Sun dazzles, blazes in azure sky.
Off and on sudden gust chasing dust drifting dry sand grains.
Scorching heat pricking piercing penetrating thick garments.
Fiery flame flickering in ambient, even rowdy raven dares to fly.
My eyes blinking, itching, trying to remove flying sand specks.
Camel with long heavy eye lashes suited to confront simoom.
My carrier quite fit to put feet with firm grip
on drowning pull of burning sand.
Camel can sustain long without water owing to fatty hump.
My dry lips need moisture, thirsty throat to be soaked in water
Quarter of my path is traversed and water bottle almost empty.
How could I quench my thirst! Water will not last till I reach destination.
Last week you were strict to spurn burning my heart
and just walked away coolly.
Now I am watching high hardness and void vastness of desert.
Long journey of life ahead, only a quarter is passed.
Whirling heart on septic sullen sensation frantically searching oasis.
I wander the desert alone and wonder to see
emptiness of my heart full of auburn ashes
similar as dry desert devoid of moisture.
Feeling abashed abandoned bewildered in barren desert.
No energy, no power, no wishes left to exert.
“She’s pregnant. Oh my God!”
“I’m going to be a father!” He beams.
“What will we call him honey?” He says.
“What have I got myself into…her chest heaves.
Day after day as she grows, he works, this father to be.
“Honey, careful now!” He lends a hand as she sits down.
“Careful,” she sighs. “Shoulda thought of that…”
and her labor begins with a scream.
Hour after hour in pain …”My wife.”
Hour after hour he paces his life.
A squall from the far room and in rushes he.
“I’m a father!” He preens. “Honey? What will his name be?”
Up honey looks, no smile…so abashed
“Honey,” she says. “We have a fine lass…..”
Crestfallen he stammers. Eyes caste to the wall.
“It’s alright.” He says “We can have more………..”
OSAMA
Obdurate Sadistic abductor as Machiavellian now abashed
Senseless Saboteur with Sabre sword,
Ablutions of wickedness as apology from vagrant
Mercy and peace mixed fleetingly against unprovoked America and the innocents
Abomination of true God explained as religion, hatred, wickedness, murders, and Jihad
Bin
Bigots brewing bestial behaviors before innocent kids,
Inoculated ideas of incorrigible iconoclast and unlettered extremist
Namby-pamby in acts of cruelty, yet, not man enough to face the consequence
Laden
Laden, lackluster, laggard, languid, despising better option
Abnormal spiritual schizophrenia and hallucination
Doctrinal heresies and contradictions shaming Islamic scholars
Exposing the fallibility of the questionable renown “Sacred book of blood and wars”
Now convince us again, that you bring Peace, Love or seek the Prince of Peace
‘Twas high on Binnicky Barney
that I asked you to be mine.
The ear was on the barley
and the grape weighed down the vine.
The clouds were high,
and so was I,
on whimsy, wit and wine.
A name is just a nonsense-game,
and love an empty snare:
and shame and blame are all the same,
but you and I were there.
In summer’s throes,
the fungus knows
its spores are in the air.
“Bryn y Cabanau”, so it’s called,
as per the ancient tongue,
and I was galled, abashed, appalled,
embarrassingly wrong.
For lovers’ lisps
are will o’the wisps,
and never last for long.
There’s merit in mistake, they say,
and losing leads to learning,
and every dog must have its day,
and every worm’s for turning.
(For all we glean,
we wish we’d been
a little more discerning.)
Solution is a kind of death,
regret a form of doubt:
and love’s a type of crystal meth
from which delusions sprout.
The pieces fit,
but you’re the bit
I haven’t yet worked out.