Long Grown up Poems
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It stood magnificently in front of our Churchyard,
Like the sacred fig tree before any temple-yard;
My going to church, as a boy, had no other reason,
Than picking all bird-dropped fruits, as a mission;
Collecting as many as possible hastily,
Pushing them into my knickers-pocket quietly;
Thinking of them all through the Holy Mass,
Waiting for the priest to say the final grace;
Hurrying to a corner where no humans see,
Place, as lonely as the very loneliness could be;
Savouring the sour-sweet taste spread over it,
Then breaking it with stones to get the nuts in it;
Quantity of it equaled as little as a butter drip,
Or as much as ten mustard seeds put as a strip;
Relishing it as though nectar of ancient sages,
Coming down to mine tongue from all the ages;
In youth tastes changed and matters mattered,
And this almond became very old fashioned;
Burgers, Pizzas, hotdogs and all tasted well,
Though, consuming them, I often was unwell;
I saw boys and girls picking almonds as I did,
And hurrying to corners and I understood;
The ‘grown-up’ in me prohibited me from doing so,
It’s hence I hid my child within, as a rainbow;
Abroad, I almost forgot the Indian almond tree,
As within me, I was bored and never really free;
I had my worries of marriage and children,
Who’d care for a tree with no monetary gain?
It’s when I went to my home town casually,
It’s under that tree I found my future lily;
We married and got children who grew,
Both with tastes so modern and new;
Yet, it’s when once we visited the churchyard,
My younger lingered over that fruit so thrilled;
We offered him sweet almonds from stores,
And supermarkets that made him to uproar;
He collected for long as much as he could,
And each little one he collected for him he hid;
He too, later, had his dreams and worries,
Sophistications seismically so seduce, seize;
Church now demolished and grounds cleared,
For newer one to construct all well renewed;
I found this almond tree got fully uprooted,
And thrown into a corner like an old harp muted;
I cried and cried till I could cover the tears,
As though I’d hidden my feelings for many years…
30 July 2021
Finding Your Muse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
A little girl with fairy tale dreams; playmates only she can see
spending her time playing like she was big...eating honeysuckles and serving tea
her playmates loved to listen to her talk, she did it very well
she told them all her secrets....she knew they would never tell
a young lady now, her playmates were real
unsure of how she was supposed to feel
nothing ever went her way, she found a way to deal
heartaches and heartbreaks lead her into her grown up life
she attempts to 'for reals” be a mommy and wife
being a mommy is what she was supposed to be
but the little girl in her wanted to be free
she ran and hid, just like before
but her playmates didn't listen to her talk anymore
she talked to herself, but that was no fun
she didn't feel loved by anyone
the little girl didn't want to play for a long long time
her playmate she could not find
she stayed big all the time for a long while
she was mad a lot and she could not even smile
I think somebody said a prayer for that girl for sure
because God sent her a playmate who was big like her
her and her playmate play..... even though they are big
and that big girl smiles like the little girl did
© Francis Maugo
How is it that I could be so moronic
To neglect you?
I had you in my arms,
Yet, I let you get away.
Basis, I need you back,
Yet, presently it's past the point of no return.
I've proactively bid farewell,
Furthermore, presently love has gone to despise.
Francis I need to travel once more into the past
Also, fix all that wasn't right,
Change the entirety of my second thoughts
So we didn't battle as lengthy.
The second thoughts wrecked it,
Furthermore, they were all my issue.
I was so youthful;
I ought to have behaved like a grown-up.
I made my own extremely upset
Whenever I left you.
Presently it's past the point of no return,
What's more, I can't fix.
Basis I actually love you,
In any case, no one knows
We are at this point not together
Due to what I picked.
It was a terrible choice,
What's more, presently I need you here.
Never far away,
Continuously close.
So if it's not too much trouble, take me back,
What's more, get me when I fall
Because I want you at this moment
More than anything by any means.
Basis how about we resolve it
We revamp it once more
Premise how about we settle our
Distinction and reignite
Our adoration once more.
I know we’ve had our differences over the years,
But we shouldn’t let those ruin our relationship.
Losing you has always been one of my greatest fears,
And if you leave me now, I just might lose my grip.
We’ve grown up together with such a loving family.
We’ve gone through so many ups and downs throughout our lives.
I thought nothing could ever come between you and me.
A bond such as ours is what keeps the world alive.
Let’s make a resolution on this next New Year’s Eve.
We’ll promise to open our hearts when the other knocks.
I’ll stay out of your dog house when, for the night, you leave
If you promise never again to use my litter box.
“ Achievements of active dynamic life turn obsolete at end.” - Poet
Mind walks on emptiness.. lone sailor on voyage,....
sailing aimless..
Nothing to achieve more, nothing to lose from empty core.....,
nothing new to explore in last stage of life,
emptiness chasing me....enclosing, encircling, encompassing......
where can I flee ?
Matters little being careful or careless !
Life passing through last phase,.....
dull hazy sky to gaze...
Not to bo blamed. nor to be praised,
more or less blank page.
Static stagnant life. … without glamour or glee,
dragging purposeless meaningless life
on suffocated breath ...... struggling for fresh air..
I reminisce closeness of emotional bonds .....
shared with parents...grand parents
and intimate friends,..
...if only once I could meet them .
Those fervent feelings are left now to sigh.
I miss my bygone golden days....
when dynamic life flaunting multiple activities
in challenging channels running ceaseless ..
without break !
Time management was so hard with endless works.
Now old age turning last few pages of life .....
offering ample time with no work.
Grown up children lead own lives leaving their childhood
in my lap.
Days are going, bleaker, bitter, dull, gloomy, desolate
I ruminate my ardent ardour once reciprocated,
now sank in abyss of old memories left behind. ....
couldn't rewind...
Ready to close the last chapter of life in emptiness.
Alone in the dungeon, I am furious with the them’s, the they’s, the experts, the teacher, my cousin, the snitch, my classmates, and especially my parents for they are the ones who ruined things for me.
If they had left me alone, not tormented me, not called me, not texted me, not lured me into talking back to my parents, if they had simply let me be, I would be outside playing second base.
I would have grown up to be fantastic, terrific, stunningly successful, powerfully respected, but all hope for that kind of life is gone now. And so is the sun, which means I have been in this dungeon for at least two hours without my tablet, or my computer, or my I-pad or TV set or anything fun to do.
But no. They could not leave me alone. They had to bug me. Learn your math facts, eat your fruit, do not hang from the top of the slide and kick your feet over your cousin’s head. So here I sit, grounded, and mad, and disappointed. When was the last time I cried? I feel the tears come, and I hate them all a bit more. All of those snitches, especially that teacher snitch. I can hear my friend John outside, yelling bye to my other friends. I struggle to hear the other’s voices, but they are not heard. I bet they got stupid Roger to play second base, and that really makes me mad.
I am so danged angry at my parents and that snitch teacher, and my snitch cousin, who should have backed me up, but did not, and everybody else who put me here in this dungeon. I am furious. FURIOUS! I lie on my bunk and toss my baseball up toward the ceiling, catch it, toss it again. It does not help. I am still mad as all get out with no inkling whatsoever that I am the only one who holds the key to unlocking the dungeon door.
A special doll, so long ago,
was my big gift when I turned eight.
With legs that moved so perfectly;
I'd swing her arms, and she walked straight.
So real she looked: full two feet tall,
brown curly hair and eyes of blue;
pink hat and coat over her dress
with patent shoes and lace socks too.
Ten years flew by, and she was stored
in our home attic, late in June,
for I had married, moved away-
yet knew I'd see her someday soon.
One year then passed. To my surprise,
when visiting back home, a while
she wasn't there- given away;
so hard for me to reconcile.
A grown-up mom I was by then,
with a sweet baby of my own.
But still, this special gift was gone-
my 'little girl heart' did bemoan,
she once was mine, but then was lost,
donated to an old thrift store.
This special gift, saved from my past-
held in my thoughts for evermore.
I have escaped to my frog prince room to get away from my everyday messes.
I promised myself I would not do this again, reminding myself, "less is more."
But self did not listen. We dragged home everything and anything someone might use.
Someone might use has never come to play or to visit.
Someone might use has never taken anything home.
Someone might use does not exist except in my shop-a-holic mind.
Someone might use needs to be obliterated from my dendrite pool.
Someone might use needs to be annihilated and cremated.
Someone might use needs to walk the plank, in front of ferociously angry pirates.
At the very least, someone might use needs to be eliminated from my vocabulary.
And the way this stuff is piling up, the sooner the better.
Is this the result of being raised by two children who lived during a depression?
Maybe, but my mother could locate anything and everything, quickly, for someone who might use.
I cannot find it even when I search and search.
I am a grown up now, anyway.
I have no one to blame but myself for all of these things that "someone might use", but never does.
As I discard truckload after truckload of stuff that I dragged home, for the notorious
"someone who might use", I hope that I have learned my lesson.
But I doubt it.
Let me share some truth.
All grownups were once youths.
We rebelled against our parents too!
All grown women and men.
Are grown up versions of your friends.
We did the same things that you do.
Please don't be upset.
Or your life don't regret.
I know Someone that you can talk to.
Many of times.
I thought, I'd lose my mind
In the mirror, I didn't like what I see.
Some kids were unkind.
I cried many times.
Felt that suicide, would set me free!
Felt I just could not win.
Maybe my life I should end.
Then a Voice said something to me.
Ken, I love you!
I'm the God who created you.
You can talk to me anytime.
Because my child you are mine.
I be here all the time.
I'll be there for all that you go through.
I had people write a book.
Sit down and take a look.
About My Son Jesus who died on a cross.
All those good women and men.
Spit and beat on Him then.
He said, "Father forgive them too!"
My child, you never should hate.
Hell will sure be your fate.
I created all of you to show love.
No one does right.
Your parent's argue and fight.
That's why I tell all to pray.
The moment you start.
I'll begin changing your hearts.
Then you'll be able to love bullies anyway!
Why do I feel so lonesome—
an independent, mature old man,
self-assured, free as a bird,
yet wishing for another bird
to chirp beside me
in the quiet branches of life?
How gently my heart awakens
when I am with my children and grandchildren—
helping young and grown-up hands,
sharing their laughter, their stories, their dreams.
Their voices become songs
that fill the empty rooms of my heart.
A helping hand, a shoulder to lean on,
a family journey through the wonders of a vacation—
for a while, loneliness loses my address.
I once thought I had a thousand friends
scattered across Facebook and social media.
I read a post, press a thumb,
and watch a little heart appear.
We touch each other's lives
with a fingertip,
then everyone disappears
behind their glowing screens.
And somehow
the silence grows louder.
Loneliness follows me
like a long shadow at sunset.
I wander through its desert,
thirsty for a human voice,
and sometimes in the distance
I see a shimmering lake—
a beautiful mirage of companionship.
I walk toward it,
but the water retreats.
They tell me,
"Get up. Go out. Socialize.
Meet people. Make new friends."
But the old gathering places
have become quiet streets.
The parties have dwindled,
the familiar chairs are empty.
Some friends have traveled
to a heavenly abode,
and others can no longer travel
without a helping hand.
Time has quietly rearranged
the landscape of friendship.
So I turn to television,
to games, to books,
to the flickering company of a screen.
For a few hours
the house is no longer silent.
The characters laugh,
the players compete,
and I borrow their excitement.
But when the screen goes dark,
the old silence returns
and sits beside me.
So what is the answer?
Perhaps loneliness is not a door
that can simply be locked and forgotten.
Perhaps it is a window—
asking me to look beyond myself.
Perhaps I need not search
for a thousand friends.
Perhaps one sincere conversation,
one familiar voice,
one cup of tea shared without hurry,
can be enough to light a candle
in a very large room.
I have spent a lifetime
learning how to stand alone.
Perhaps now
I must learn something different:
how to leave the door ajar,
how to welcome a passing bird,
how to listen for its song,
and how to sing back.