Long Begrudged Poems
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OF THE COMMON SEAS
"We must come down from our heights, and leave our straight paths, for the byways and low places of life, if we would learn truths by strong contrasts; and in hovels, in forecastles, and among our own outcasts in foreign lands, see what has been wrought upon our fellow-creatures by accident, hardship, or vice." **
Truth need not be found
in philosophers' musings,
or complicated by thoughts bound
with theorems and words, fusing,
nor within the intricacies
of mathematical proofs,
as one and one may indeed
not equal two; un-truth is truth.
Truth becomes vast in life,
and like the pearl, can be found
as beauty captured, in seas rife
between the common oyster's gown,
Or found within the common leaves
of books written by common men,
discovered by those literates who read.
Truth is simple, now and ever been.
I stumbled on such a prize
In Dana's autobiography;
of common men on common seas
living truths of common humanity.
** Dana, Jr., Richard Henry, Two Years before the Mast, World Publishing Company, 1946, p. 283
1
Like a moth to a candle flame
I pondered the perceived right
of those of wealth, culture, piety and fame
to control and lead the common blight -
(the average, struggling and forsaken souls);
yet have never descended to the lowly station
to learn the culture of these earthly ghouls,
their dreams, their pleas, their damnation.
As gods atop their cloud draped mountain
how dare they, in their empiric quackery
force the masses to their impure fountain
to drink of the laws and life that they decree,
yet having not trod the tracks of the plebian path,
having never felt the sordid plebian passions,
but worshipping instead their comfort and wealth,
adorned in decadence and richly clothed fashions,
how can they govern those they do not know,
minister to anguish they have never felt
or heal their sickness of body, heart and soul?
How can they play the cards, to them never dealt?
Are they leaders, statesmen, kings and lords,
or simply counterfeit men full only of themselves,
vainglorious peacocks, strutting hordes
deceiving not a common man, only just themselves?
We have them here, in this land of the free,
politicians, preachers, corporate men and judges.
None have suffered and worked, you see
yet dare to rule, when by common men begrudged.
Form:
Life As A Highway Robber
Escape from captivity pulled off
when I came of age
boyhood begrudged,
and bested by brigandage,
but willpower sans declaration
of independence begot bravery
against British brutes
bridging caper (involving collusion)
to bust loose from cage,
and trappings forcibly to plunder artworks
and sculpted treasures
by classical masters
without causing damage
taught by professional thieves
requiring minimal equipage
whereat over time footage
sordid memory constantly replayed
plunder and pillage unwittingly
fostering getaway
from hell raising gambits
planting seed to gauge
optimal instance
to feign criminal shenanigans
running rampant with militant spunky gangs
"FAKING" das spies zing
trumpeting hostage killing
and taking, nonetheless
swallowing bitter pill
reeking havoc as honorable image
in order to survive
within world wide
web of criminals (especially
an unwelcome foreigner),
where skills as buccaneer
really put to test, and tried
maximum lawlessness partaken
in (dolled up) guise suppressing shied
pitifull looking indigent vagabond
self away by donning
"FAKE" whippersnapper
benefiting getting to sally and ride
always exuding patriotic pride
pleasing ghosts of founding fathers
against their autonomy from
crown weathering woe be chide
recrimination impossible
to enforce as bride
of Lady Liberty opened arms for those,
who made dangerous journey
across avast ocean
only to confront (whodunit) thuggery
this lifestyle raping, looting,
and burning WITHOUT choice,
but guilt aye didst abide.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Retrospective many generations since
marking birth of a nation
(The United States of America),
now mecca, sans land of milk and honey
current president imposed antithetical ration!
The happily ever after...
He searched the kingdom for a fortnight 'til all saddle sore and weary,
With his eyes bloodshot and bleary,
The prince arrived at the last door.
He found two sisters, far too ugly, and an even uglier mother,
And asked himself why even bother,
This whole darn quest's become a bore.
Then from the kitchen came the vision he had searched so far and wide for.
He asked stepmother what she'd lied for
To say the three of them were all.
A flash, a crash, there was the gown, and then he saw her bare right flipper,
And on the left, a crystal slipper…
The girl he'd danced with at the ball.
The stepmother feigned regret that they had sadly so misjudged her,
T'was for her good that they'd begrudged her,
But to a prince one shouldn't lie.
On her wedding day the trio met the fate they should have dreaded,
They were arrested and beheaded,
And Cindy never blinked an eye.
The wedding feast and celebration were the grandest in the nation,
The king and queen felt jubilation,
Their son was "normal", after all.
They could retire and the crown would be passed down to their descendants,
Their kid, grandkids, and co-dependents,
They were so glad they'd had that ball.
But on their wedding night the prince confirmed his sexual confusion,
And forced them both to the conclusion,
Theirs was no fairy tale romance.
But still they made the marriage work, although they had no little nippers,
Sometimes he wore her gown and slippers,
And Cinderella wore the pants.
So, in conclusion, Cinderella got her semi-happy ending,
In spite of all the rules I'm bending
To tell her tale and make it new.
It wasn't meant to be so grand,
But what my muse commands, I do,
And now in bidding fond adieu,
My hat is off to those of you
Who stuck it out and read it through.
The End
*Image of Forgiveness by Pixabay.
Tale of the Forgiving Betold
Albeit a notable stretch
that stars wouldst a fairer
share of thee and sheath
thy warm expanse.
Sire, alack thy humble
servant beseech thee,
me Lord, for wouldst
thee taketh to mind
thoust faileth thee but
'tis once at the weest hour.
Shouldst thou beg
the goddesses and
gods forthwith 'tis
thy noble quest for
virtue sake that thou
mayest risk a stable
footing verily proved
thy acts of decency.
Pall's errant gift thee
a habilitating ward,
a silhouette soul, its
quaint steps for a
merciful fortitude.
To seize caring eyes
fortuitous event of
a chartreuse field
of wavery rushes
and vibrancy pell
in crystalline spring.
A dutiful life longing
begrudged in the
greens of Evermore,
mayhaps thoust dwelt
in the recesses of thy
bosoms for they hadst
possesseth thee so
willingly, that thoust
act gently.
Nay, nary an army,
soothly a herald of
dreams that unlade
trails ifsoe'er mingle
charmingly, napping
in cases, perchance
to claim and rescue
thyself and possibly
pretenders begone
and ne'er-do-wells
that causeth a toss
and twirl fortuitously
erelong into the tuck
of episodic twilight's
unraveling sepulchral.
Sparkled specks and a
Chaser to settle scores
natheless thou mentored
souls that dwarf a sea of
their gilded hearts.
Less of a challenge when
substance, and grit, amidst
the generous few whose
serendipitously perpetuates
the moment -- forthwith.
Suite melody be the appeal
in the case of forgiveness
for there is proper cause for
the bestowment allocation
gratuitously and without
delay.
Forbearance is the footing
lain the acts of forgiveness.
2022 August 23
*Image of Forgiveness by Pixabay.
Tale of a Forgiving Challenge
Albeit a notable stretch
that stars wouldst a fairer
share of thee and sheath
thy warm expanse.
Sire, alack thy humble
servant beseech thee,
me Lord, for wouldst
thee taketh to mind
thoust failed thee but
'tis once a wee hour.
Shouldst thou beg
the goddesses and
gods forthwith 'tis
thy noble quest for
virtue sake that thou
mayest risk a stable
footing verily proved
thy acts of decency.
Pall's errant gift thee
a habilitating ward,
a silhouette soul, its
quaint steps for a
merciful fortitude.
To seize caring eyes
fortuitous event of
a chartreuse field
of wavery rushes
and vibrancy pell
in crystalline spring.
A dutiful life longing
begrudged in the
greens of Evermore,
mayhaps thoust dwelt
in the recesses of thy
bosoms for they hadst
possesseth thee so
willingly, that thoust
act gently.
Nay, nary an army,
soothly a herald of
dreams that unlade
trails ifsoe'er mingle
charmingly, napping
in cases, perchance
to claim and rescue
thyself and possibly
pretenders begone
and ne'er-do-wells
that causeth a toss
and twirl fortuitously
erelong into the tuck
of episodic twilight's
unraveling sepulchral.
Sparkled specks and a
Chaser to settle scores
natheless thou mentored
souls that dwarf a sea of
their gilded hearts.
Less of a challenge when
substance, and grit, amidst
the generous few whose
serendipitously perpetuates
the moment -- forthwith.
Suite melody be the appeal
in the case of forgiveness
for there is proper cause for
the bestowment allocation
gratuitously and without
delay.
Forbearance is the footing
lain the acts of forgiveness.
2019 September 23
Madness,
How nice they felt
To be free,
From the dampness of humanity.
They are plunged into a different universe
A free life of toils
A prodigal,
Of a profilial,
Feeding from oral to oval,
Your earn for your oral,
And not for your keep
All squashed in a heap.
The sane man is begrudged
Wittless
Penniful yet penniless
Live yet but vegetable
The luck rests on the insane
Oh! The madmale
Only he is live
Yet free!
Oh! I am the luckiest,
As a Madmale as i am,
No one knows my thinking
No one knows the meaning of my face
As a mad male i am insane
But!
As a mad female i am sane
As i still remember my feminity
Vividly as it is not vivid,
Clear as unclear..
As water on a stony path,
Yet unclean.
My madness my solace
Be me him
Be me her
All are free
What all seek is a reality escape
A fleeing route,
Yet a fleeting one
Yet, yes oh yet!
How her remembers you say?
From a skimpy scarf
To an able polythene
All these she remembers
To aquire,
So her heart is intact,
But, her head is In turmoil
But! the her norms intact
Forgone him you say!
No cannot be!
Him is a negation
Of her.
They roam and roam
In woe with foe
In joy with joy
On any path
Of any choice
All, choices of theirs
But, him is a lost cause
Hmmmmmmm!
I sighed at the sight
Painful but comical
All is well,
Will be well
Oh! How envious
I seem
They just exist in their imagination
But comical in our sight
Free of old shreks and their queens
Toiling with their pawns
All in the name of a state control
How funny it is
Oh!
How my jealousy tickles me to an edge
Wanting all thus
Them, i like
Them, i must be!
Hush and harken to the stillness,
Do not disturb the spirits
Lying in their stale graves,
Overgrown with vines,
Reading and re-reading their epitaphs
With begrudged faces
Contorted as if they were trying
With difficulty to understand
Why all those lies were
Written for them...
And then sitting on the gravestones
Or lying leisurely on their beloved vines,
They wave those who pass
Exhorting them to accept their fate,
The ultimate calling of the grave,
The ultimate pleasure of sleeping on vines...
Those green, ghostly vines,
Who converse amongst themselves
In low, conspiratorial tones...
They can hear them, almost everytime,
Gossiping about this man's ugly skull
And that man's decaying bones..
But who knows how much longer
Before the next vine is born
And she grows to be a beautiful vine-maiden
Sought after by men of substance,
Who with all the gold in the world
Pursue her...
And, if you are lucky,
She might grow on you,
And be the first to complain about
Your endless snoring, and childish sobbing,
For all of them dead do,
Alternating steadily,
Peaceful sleep peppered with rasping snores,
And near-silent sobs,
Like that of a woman
Rudely robbed of her flower..
Only in the dead of the night
Do they finally rise
To full wakefulness,
To potter about the earth
Seeking water from the living.
And when they are offered none,
They suck on sweats.
Enjoying its most fulfilling taste
And, eager to remain,
They grow new vines,
Just underneath the bed,
And lay down every night for
A salty living drink...
Written October 7th 2016 for Broken Wings' Overgrown With Vines contest
As democratic minds continue to work LeftBrain Yang-hard and strong,
yet resiliently paced,
and RightBrain Yin-smart,
flowing smooth,
resonantly graced,
Earth grows deeper and wider polypathic outcomes
restoring peace
by non-violently responding to past climate injustices,
Inviting patient good humor
despite wounded free-loaders stingy past
without sufficient faith in positive therapeutic investment.
Not begrudged investment in silent bad faith,
expecting only more negative Win/Lose compromises,
eventually devolving into economic
and ecological gridlock losses,
total eco- and ego-systemic stuckness,
personally and politically disempowered,
disengaged,
failing to thrive.
Deterring aggression is unlikely
to those investing in and with swords,
automated rifle associations,
marketing sales of fear-mongering weapons
and walls
and martial laws.
Deterring violent aggression is more likely
to those investing in and with redemptive WinWin compassion,
cooperative global health associations,
advocating and mentoring gospel communion experiences,
WinWin wealth of grace,
love,
compassion,
trust
as LeftBrain defined,
RightBrain refined,
by not LoseLose absence of health,
trust,
compassion,
grace under Win/Lose fire
of competitive Business As Capital Infested,
over-invested,
under-arrested
by webs of resilient cooperative ownership
management
governance
responsibility
healthy wealth accountability,
historical recountability
RealTalk,
in 4D LeftBrain YangSpace,
RightBrain wall-less webbing bilateral YinTime.
She could hardly wait to begin her very first day of school.
(Which is rare indeed for a child, as a general rule!)
She'd watched kids thro' her window as they daily trudged,
To the little school house - this the little towhead begrudged!
The big day arrived and Mother with her little girl in tow,
Held her hand as she skipped along, her pretty face aglow!
One thing troubled her though, much to her chagrin;
Two front teeth were missing, spoiling her winsome grin!
She was dressed in a pretty frock and lace-trimmed pinafore,
And was very proud of the shiny patent-leather shoes she wore!
Her hair was fixed in pigtails, so becoming to the little lass.
No doubt she'd be the prettiest girl in her first-grade class!
She joined the other kids and found, much to her distress,
That most were bawling, hiding behind their mother's dress!
She joined the howling mob when she found to her consternation,
That this was not the first day of school, but only registration!
A few days later she fulfilled her youthful scholastic dream.
She loved the learning game and excelled to the extreme!
Years later she took her own two towheads to school with pride!
Like her, on the very first day of school, neither of them cried!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
This poem is based on a true account of my wife, Vera, and her
first day at school!
I left at 6:30 for the 7 pm meeting.
I wanted to be early to find a seat near the speaker.
As I crossed over the bridge on the westside of town
I could see the traffic lights ahead were red.
Something must have happened. The lights were not changing.
I could see a policeman directing traffic.
He was letting all of the opposite traffic come through;
police cars, fire engines, official cars and then motorcycles,
hundreds and hundreds of motorcycles
as if there was no end to them.
By this time I was truly angry.
What was the traffic policeman thinkng?
Those cyclists could stop as well as we.
They were causing me to miss a very important meeting.
The mystery was solved this morning when the newpaper arrives.
The police were leading an entourage of people
intent on honoring some of the good folks who had
lost their lives in the service of their country.
I had been caught in traffic by The Traveling Viet Nam
memorial war replica.
They were setting up the wall and there
would be five days of events and speakers.
I felt the tears start as I read the piece.
These heroes had given their lives and I
had begrudged them a few minutes.
Soldiers, firemen, policemen, where would
we be without them?
I am clearing my calendar.
I have more important events
to attend these next five days.
By: Joyce Johnson