Long Exasperating Poems
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It was a woodcut in our high school history text, Unit 4 Beginnings of the
Modern World, that so disturbed,
from the Nuremburg Chronicles depicting the burning of the Jews, flat
perspective,
faces of the victims among flames, in no particular agony, not especially
Jewish,
during the Black Death 1/3 of Europe died 1347-1351 alone. Although
you die together you die alone.
Earlier that week, I had attended our 6th grade's performance of Fiddler on
the Roof, thinking
Coltrane should have recorded Matchmaker as a bookend to My
Favorite Things
but as the play darkened
with the town's absorption into the diaspora, democracy
yet unthought of and rule of law a fig leaf for authority
Jasper, who played Zero Mostel, delivered his line well to the effect
you're just doing your jobs while wrecking our lives.
Anyway, nothing like that is happening here, is it?
The gardener planting tomatoes, the gravedigger finding skulls,
there is so much life a little death won't matter.
Jasper
was a beautiful ham,
big as Zero.
A friend posed
this question: must all states be melting pots like the United States?
I said yes
not because they should but since
it's inevitable. Let labor flow like capital!
America was the last word of the play and brought a tear of pride to my
eye.
Immigration, exasperating argument re the Other.
How many's more than enough? 9 billion, a rational,
real number that exceeds or
we're convinced
is within the carrying capacity of the planet.
Climate change is the new Black Death.
I like the Amerindian body type and face mixed in with the European,
African.
The irrepressible economy rolls out reams of logs, ores of elements, bags
of ice, fields of rice.
Embargo. The moon stares, bare, full of interstellar space.
Better a cold shoulder than a visit from our military.
The crazy Nazis must have felt themselves extraordinarily compassionate
toward the mother, earth, the goddess, history, or some such
abstraction and, thus, acted on a fraction of all they did not know.
Selfless soldiers just doing their jobs guarding the border or,
on the other hand, collecting fagots for the burning of the Jews.
WONDERS OF IX A (2019)
Millennium is a box of wonders which crave
To get knowledge, values, principle and love.
In my satchel I have eight wonders that drive
Me crazy, frenzied, rabid. But lo how I love
All of them. Composed, wise sane and active
Never fought like cat and dog, or out move.
The first gems Radhika and Ansh, my nerve
One very intelligent, diligent, other silent groove,
Charming, diligent, a helping hand, a sweet dove.
Second are Vidhi and Dhruv, who do their give
Best, oppose, are animadvert, but most all of
Love teachers. Third Pranjal and Mustafa brave
Charming, exasperating, lovely, do behave
Cooly, assist me in executing discipline, gave
Best of them, never rude or arrogant do they prove.
Fourth are Chahat and Vishnu, tacit, cute curve,
Taciturn, intermittently garrulous but catch nerve,
One a couch potato, other eats humble pie is brave.
Fifth wonders are Shikha and Shashank, positive
In my class, effusive, gabby, loquacious, talkative
But sweet natured children, take care of AC groove.
The next wonders are Milsi and Kanan, Gujju native,
Another prolix, chatty and gabby ones who grieve
With Dwij for class indiscipline; all sweethearts of
Sanket, caring, dormant, at times quarrelsome, at eve
Spend time contemplating on their studies. Above
All is Dweesha and Dwip, short tempered, proactive,
Loquacious, friend in enemy, reserved is ready give
Their 100 percent against me with conjurer's glove,
But close to my heart. The last but not least brave
Girl is Vidhi, a Jain, reputed, calm, cute, does have
Empathy for me and Krunal. A sweet girl, will leave
Never just, devoted, staunch behaviour, an octave
Of skills, trustworthy, allegiant, harmonious dove.
In a nutshell, all sixteen are big bucks, a brown clove.
All these eight wonders with Dev, Helik, Vasu move
Crumblesome elements out of my class - proactive.
Mithil, Harsh, Sarthak are above the salt persons. Five
More are wonders driving away my talent out of cave.
I thank again most reverent Kekul madam to pave
A voluble path of IX A with such obedient constructive
Students. Guidance of Sandeep and Sushil inductive;
I counted noses, am success with method inductive.
All dandies, make me a proud, ostentatious teacher alive.
Like the autumn weaves warmth
With hope and grace,
Inspirations in temptations of laughing scarlet,
Blazing tangerine and glorious gold,
Soothing away the darkness as beautiful
Casts its shadow over my spirit,
A dream reflecting peace that rouses me to remember
Where there was a choice, reserved for joy,
Light was the sustaining power –
Arriving in my unwritten absence,
When bold flames of passionate bronze
Faded into the summer and reminded me why,
Why I was like the dwindling moon, sliding beneath
Stardust dreams, coloring the night
In ebony history – grimly waning ways,
Soothing away the fog of yesterday and creating
Intimacy in the bonds of laughter and compassion,
The seclusion so liberating, smiling into the moments,
Erasing the black and putting away the smallest tasks
Excusing melancholy and blaming dusk
For its exasperating way of giving in to doubt,
Listening to the enchantress, lunation
Who boldly praises the nocturnal memories,
Roaring and seeking temptations,
So wise and wonderful they cling to the flesh,
Like sweat shimmering and sliding,
Sticking to the moments in an abiding grace –
Is memory so brave as the reflection it gave,
The intimacy between two echoes,
Night and day, yesterday, the past – weaved
Into the present moment, erasing the wistful wish
Who dreams light yet focuses on the night
And remembers only to agree with autumn’s brave kindness,
The memory like a taunting of two thoughts,
One of love and one of sorrow, each with their own fears
Their very own tears and so many trusted years
When everywhere there was light
Poured out on endless stirrings of what it is
To give in to the past and its spirit,
The blessings rising like a mist across the mountains,
The moments when life fades in sterling sands
Visions of kindness when life is truth
And life binds the days with praise,
An aching praise who restores and renews,
Invites the beautiful to breathe
And the sadness to grieve…
This is the past and it’s healing will give hope
To the ones who remember
A clinging ache, meant to break…
Yes, there is victory in the faith who believes
God wins – in the end, GOD WINS!
Let me set something straight -
Right here, right now!
Let me put India in the right perspective,
Let me banish some myths,
Some gross misconceptions,
And take you beyond elephants,
Sacred cows, snake charmers and yoga,
Beyond Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Taj Mahal,
To a civilization rooted for
over 5,000 years in the past
To a land rich - majestically rich -
In many cultures, customs and traditions,
In a bewildering variety of races,
Religions, languages and folk arts,
In a vibrant tradition of dance and music,
In religious festivals and traditional events,
In saints, sadhus, gurus and sages,
In gods, goddesses, munis and mahatmas,
In temples, palaces, shrines and monasteries;
I'll baby-steps you through a land
Of Vedas and Upanishads,
Of epic stories and incredible mythologies,
Of Ramayana, Mahabharata and Bhagavad Gita,
Through one of world's great spiritual sanctuaries,
Where religion is a way of life;
An overwhelming, complex land -
Its charm, its vitality and yes, its confusion,
Atonce alarming and enticing.
And that's the way India is:
Elusive, confusing, contradictory,
mysterious and exasperating!
Beyond easy description or analysis,
A phenomenal diversity of dress
and manners making one aware
of a different world -
A veritable fairyland!
No other country offers quite such
A spectacle of teeming masses that
continue to enrich the heritage of mankind,
Nowhere do the past and present
coexist in more colorful promiscuity -
An incomparable country,
Easy to love, hard to forget!
"There's only one India!" raved Mark Twain,
"A wonderland of fabulous wealth
and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags ..."
"The cradle of the human race,
The birthplace of human speech,
The mother of history,
The grandmother of legend and
The great grandmother of tradition."
This, indeed, is my country
Where I was born -
An Indian at heart,
An American in spirit!
Namaste!
Khuda Hafiz, Jai Ramji Ki,
OM Radhe Shyam, Sat Sri Akal,
Jai Hind!!
~Love letters to the sub continent
contest by cyndi MacMillan
I hear her
When, in stillness – peace,
She surrounds me with her promises,
Light, mist on the morning, hope
Lifting away all the doubt, the darkness
With a feeling, a soul stirring scream
I hear her
Beating, in rhythm – harmonizing,
She echoes in reflections of sweet joy,
Soft, erasing all the night’s stardust dreams,
Inspiring me to give my best, my heart
To the moments of laughter, the scream
I hear her
Dancing, in tune – waltzing,
Breathing hope through the spirit,
Singing as the leaves whisper, falling
Autumn remembering summer’s hesitation
To hide behind the beautiful, blood curdling scream
I hear her
When, at noon – cloudless skies
Embrace the earth, tempting, satisfying
Reassuring the soul that together with time
We can arrive at our destination, our finish
Pouring out forever in the spirit’s the scream
I hear her
Gifting my heart with light, intense
Feelings so gentle, so giving, so willing
To agree with second thoughts, the secret
Hopes flooding, flowing through the brilliance
A love that agrees, passionate, a scream
I hear her
Like melancholy and memory, singing
The rich, cool alto – then soprano, notes
Pure gold, God’s voice pleading with us all
Nature, forever – endless treasures of hope
Foreseeing the everlasting life, in the wildness of a heart
– the scream, fading into destiny, graceful
Like a peace that can’t be seen or touched
The scream is anxious and floods the hopes
With winds that blow through the oaks
Satisfying the blossoms, the laurels and pines,
Preparing hearts for reality’s chime, the vibrant highs
Determined by the blood curdling scream of sunset’s trembling
Blending with endless feelings…
Blessing away the scream’s repeating over the ridges,
Soundless, yet – still resonating such an ache
Fleeting heartbreak, yearning for the peace that comes
With the dawn, the serenity that takes
Away the scream’s raspy voice, it’s exasperating grating
The scream… it drains the wish from the dreamer
HOLDING BACK TEARS
Being a single mother is rarely appreciated,
when it is a very demanding, challenging, complex
responsibility to take on and carry on for years.
Who wants to be a single mother? I chose to.
Couples marry to be together and start a family
and do not think, want divorce or separation.
Yet, couples grow apart, change, unable to adapt
to situations, problems arising in having a family.
So, some ends up being a single mother like me
instead of staying married to a problematic
spouse or in a troublesome, exasperating, taxing
relationship, not a good example for the children.
Single parenting is very difficult for it is physically,
emotionally, mentally draining, exhausting. Tough!
You just bite the bullet and keep on going, doing the
best you can as the breadwinner and the homemaker.
You are on your own to face whatever comes your way
in maintaining the house, putting food on the table,
the children’s education, teen-agers rebellions or
defiance on top of your own emotional roller coaster.
Yet, you show a poker face and you hold back tears
for you want the children to know you are strong,
resilient, cannot be broken, being there for them
and will always be there to support and console.
The reality is you are breaking down, falling apart
inside, feeling all alone and holding back tears,
when all you wanted is somebody, someone to hold
you tight and whisper “Everything will be all right”.
I look back on those years of being a single mother,
years of holding back tears that turned my heart
into a stone for when my daughter calls on Father’s
Day telling me “Happy Father’s Day”, I cannot cry.
I cannot even shed a tear of happiness knowing
she regards me as a mother and a father. Charming!
How I wish I could. What happened to my diminutive
heart? Why is it still holding back tears? Don’t know!
8/18/21 This Or That, Vol 5 Poetry
Edward Ibeh
Chose: Holding Back Tears
this story will be told and
retold
eternally, endlessly, ad infinitum, forever, for ever
about school yard politics, or should I say school yard bullying
it started for me in elementary school
I was different in this public school of adolescent
annoying, power hungry kids
I was part Ojibwe, a girl very quiet and shy
I was bullied, isolated, shunned
it was irritating, exasperating, maddening
my eyes were full of sadness for the sorrow I had been through
already
but the bullies did not care
about any of that it took courage to be there
I was made to feel small
and I just wanted to be left alone
each day
I felt insignificant and of no importance
in the school yard I was ridiculed, called awful names
girls would walk behind me, giggling, whispering
saying things like "she thinks she is an Indian Princess"
or "look at her ugly clothes"
(that was probably TRUE my cloths were second hand)
the boys were even more obnoxious
when
I went to high school
it was not much better I was cursed from day one
but found a friend in a Cree boy
we would sit talking about our culture and stuff
for hours our heads together ignoring everyone else
he gave me strength
he said, I was beautiful inside and out and to never change
to this day we remain friends
anyways
over one summer something happened to me
my hips flared I suddenly had a SHAPE
the bullies tried to abuse me
but I refused to fall to chronic defeat
and somehow I had grown some confidence
and was able to just ignore them
when a bothersome, troublesome, irksome girl called me
an INDIAN PRINCESS
I spun around long raven hair twirling
and said "thank you".
_________________________
March 27, 2017
Free Verse/
Copyright Protected, ID 887653
School Yard Politics
Lewis Raynes
First Place
I woke up this morning,
and then without warning,
I rolled off the bed,
soundly bumping my head.
That was just the beginning of what I call,
my most exasperating day of all.
Here's what happened next:
Got into the shower,
then suddenly lost power.
Stubbed my toe getting out,
causing me to curse and shout.
In the dark I tried to dress,
hoping I wouldn't look a mess.
Lights came back on and sure enough,
mismatched socks and other stuff.
Spilled hot coffee on my blouse,
just as I was leaving the house.
Back inside to change my clothes;
so far this day really blows!
Ran some errands, so far so good,
maybe I should knock on wood.
Called a friend and met for lunch.
While eating I felt a startling crunch!
A tooth had broken - I wanted to wail!
Why couldn't I have broken a nail?
Now I'm feeling mighty stressed;
this dental problem must be addressed.
Dentist saw me right away,
and told me what I'd have to pay.
Tears welled up at his words.
The price was totally absurd!
Maybe I should just go toothless,
these dental fees are way to ruthless.
Driving home I was so distraught,
I didn't stop as I ought.
Police lights flashed in my rear view;
now what am I going to do?
The policeman asked for license and registration;
I started to blubber in frustration.
How could so many things go wrong in one day?
Now I have a ticket to pay.
I made it home without more trouble,
and then I poured myself a double
portion of sweet iced tea,
to refresh and comfort me.
I think I'll just go to bed,
pull the covers over my head,
and pray that tomorrow will be,
a much better day for me.
8/7/16
(Fortunately, this is a work of fiction)
“Go BANG!”
"Is that a gun in your pocket?"
She said
"Careful, I recommend
you need to be undercover,
and soon, call it Espionage M
You’re so disjointed
It's exasperating
but endearing"
He said
"Danger is Your Middle Name
You’ve been decoded!"
She said
"But rest easy, so far
not defrocked
We need you triggering
pistols, and playing
Russian Roulette
and Shuttle Cock -
it will assist me
if your outcome is
alive not dead"
He said
"Dear Badminton,
Is that the same as
being decrypted in bed?
Of course, if you prefer,
we could -
tread water naked
with sharks instead"
She said
"I love it when you
split hairs over slang
Special Agent,
leave the Latin for Corsica,
Confessions remain
secrets left unsaid -
Let’s go vesper
riding full monty
with the high priests of
soliloquy instead...
By the way, you failed to
answer my question -
Is that a gun in your pocket?"
She said
He said
"Come here and pull
the trigger, it’s a
lethal weapon
consider it a
suave kind of
special Agent thing...
Your mission, dearest Cabin Fever"
he pushed the envelope towards her,
"should you so wish to proceed here…."
"Go BANG!"
She said
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Go Bang" / PNAU
https://youtu.be/PIn4SCgeHsw
"Chameleon / PNAU
https://youtu.be/s2pp_ZAk6Uw
Lyrics:
"Chameleon" / PNA
https://genius.com/Pnau-chameleon-lyrics
"Go Bang" / PNA
https://genius.com/Pnau-go-bang-lyrics
Look at me carefully, staring at me in the eye:
am I intimidating you? Where's your trust in me?
Another friend more royal than me does not exist!
I fought for a free and free existence,
not to be admired and accept laurels
which are reserved for the strongest
and most worthy than I! Ah, I confess that
I do not seek the glory of the gods,
it won't make me happy: only true friendship;
look closer at me: hear how I breathe...
inhaling the scent of the lulling breeze
that caresses me and demands no censorship!
I am the man who is not afraid of anyone
and having walked miles from youth until today:
I've learned that life must be lived to be understood
and appreciated with a valiant attitude...
giving an example to those who lack courage
and are afraid to show it and be alienated...
as the most ruthless force beats constantly
in a resurgent soul that only a warrior has
in those most decisive and exasperating moments!
Do not roll out carpets when I return from a victory,
my humility will not accept it, but I would be stricken by the joy
of your honorable act: it will remain in my vivid memory...
while you will wonder why I am so humble and defend my virtue:
all that I am and will be was instilled in me to pursue
the valor and grit of a heroine and an angel who fell from Heaven;
she guided me with her wise heart bringing me close to God,
and warning me that my path would have been long and hard:
if I had the same persistent faith that she had,
and so I've become the man who is not afraid of anyone!