Long In one ear Poems
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Though many have lost the battle, can I go forward in a worthy pursuit?
For those whose pursuit of chastity in marriage grinds to an unhappy halt,
could it not be due in part to being pulled toward illusions of grandeur?
Can I have my cake and eat it too? Can it be beautiful and forbidden too?
Am I listening to the sound of music never designed for winners?
Do I look with glee through glasses neither half full nor half empty?
Am I salivating over portraits created by mirages in the desert?
Are marriages endurable or even survivable?
The continuous grind of interpersonal conflicts;
The verbal, emotional, and physical abuse;
And the devastating effects of ‘an affair’;
The rights of life and liberty;
And the pursuit of happiness too;
true values, deeply rooted in the fiber of my being.
The purchase of certain liberties demands a hefty price.
I then consider the pleasure gained versus a life of pain.
So, I pause to ponder the horrendous cost of broken vows.
But why do I not turn my eyes, and slowly walk away?
Why do I allow such noble dreams to become nightmares?
With two ears, I pursue chastity.
In one ear I hear a voice, saying,
“With just one secluded night of infidelity,
you could be infused with adventure and pleasure”.
That voice, so crystal clear, so pleasing and promising;
It’s the sound of charm and enchantment; a costly voice.
So, I close the other ear that’s projecting a voice of caution and reason.
It says to me, “Please don’t because you would lose a lasting bond of trust”.
Is it just me, or do I see a dying breed of the trusted and the faithful?
Is it just me, or are we growing indifferent to the tried and the true?
I hear the noise of fun and games, but I hear the children crying too.
Is there anybody trying to be reliable, like the rising and setting sun?
04282015PSContest, A Sexy Surreal, Lewis Raynes
A featured poem on PS the week of 080122
I pick up their idle chatter five days of the week.
Conversation with other passengers, I never seek
to learn of a secret one of them might privately leak.
But try as I might, I cannot help but overhear
a new recipe she tried, or the reason for his fear.
Sometimes, I wish I was deaf, at least in one ear!
I try reading my newspaper and ignore the prattle,
but often it's louder than the train car's rattle.
I'm not interested in the gossip of their tittle tattle.
At least the man with the cigar, smokes it outside,
or I'd take another tram. Cigar stench I can't abide.
I live in the burbs, so it's a long way home I ride.
Today, there's a young lady who wouldn't take a seat.
She looks worried, or at least somewhat browbeat,
like the people I work with down at Dun & Bradstreet.
I often wonder what's on the young conductor's mind.
Does he despise his job because he feels confined?
I'm off at the next stop, where I leave them all behind.
and the garbage piles up.
Nose-blind by now,
the public doesn’t even
smell the increasing stench.
Inured to the political slush,
minds grind to a halt,
gravitating to one or
another single topic,
ignoring other issues.
Women’s rights, tariffs,
Ukraine, deteriorating
and threatening climate
change, nuclear war,
presidential ability, character,
in one ear and out an eye.
It’s the price of gas, they say,
the cost of groceries,
often controlled by world supply,
and other economies.
Real and threatening issues
bear down on us,
but we blindly accept
the panaceas of
political sound-bites as truth.
Is this really an election,
with a divided populace
so many of whom see nothing,
hear nothing, and know nothing
but the lies they are fed?
I said I ain't been on no bike
He said, 'Well, there it is.'
Premature baldness and popcorn muscles
I told him I got a B in History
He said, 'What a life you're gonna have.'
This is what I'm paying for
Man hugs and comic sans garage dweller
As I lay in bed on my side
With the book open next to my eyeball
Country music in one ear
Chewing three pieces of gum simultaneously
Offering extra strong mints to friends
I am inside a wooden nesting doll
The windscreen is frozen over
I am a dog looking out the driver's window
A constant expression of weariness
He wants to see me again in a month
He asks for a mint as I leave
I ask reception for a shovel to dig to
Disappointment Island
"The Word on the street"
Rumors and thoughts that r incomplete
"The Word" will knock u off ur feet,
Without missing a beat
"The Word" is something u can't defeat
One day "The Word" can flatter
The next day it will shatter
The truth u know is all that matters
"The Word" is just clatter
U know, noise and chatter
There isn't a grain of salt big enough
Believe "The Word" if u r stupid enough
"The Word" can make life tough
According to "The Word" u like it rough
Like whips and handcuffs
But u didn't here it from me
"The Word" can destroy lives and families
In one ear and right out the other
If it isn't seen, don't bother
It's hard not to listen when "they" talk lies & deceit
Beware the word on the street
Many will say what they say never realizing when it's too late
For the One that they betray is looking upon their entire slate
As they repeatedly take His Name in vain never to even think
One day you'll have only yourself to blame, within but a blink
Before it's too late to apologize, least begin to make amends
For before one can realize one's worldly life so quickly ends
Yes you have missed so much Grace and given so little back
In so becoming like this place their is so much you now lack
But the door isn't shut yet as you are still invited to come in
So don't come to regret in getting left holding your bag of sin
If these words sound strange or go in one ear and then out
Then it's your life to rearrange, of this I am not of any doubt
Your truth one day will no longer exist cut down by a Sword
To the very last word on your list in not knowing the Lord
Fools very often look brave but in the very end we realize
In all that The Lord Gave... and you, you refuse to apologize
Hebrews 9:27
And as it is appointed unto men once to die,
but after this the judgment:
...or In One Ear and Out to the Bridge Club...
Everybody likes a little gossip,
Everybody likes to hear a bit of dirt.
It brightens conversations,
And arouses shocked sensations,
And might cause some mild vexations,
But should never, never, never ever hurt.
What the neighbors do should be nobody's business,
It's not your fault if they don't keep their curtains drawn.
Besides, you're reasonably sure
That's what binoculars are for,
And if you hide behind your door,
What you can see them do by them is never known.
The Browns across the street are having problems,
He's been sleeping on the couch since New Year's Eve.
It seems those last two business trips
Involved some extra-marital "slips".
You're not adept at reading lips,
But gossip needn't be precise to be believed.
Yes, everybody likes a little gossip
To discuss at lunch, or brunch, or over tea.
To be aware of the mistakes
That almost everybody makes
Is all the skill and guile it takes
To be a gossiper, and not a gossipee.
I was a young mother of three darling little girls in the 1980’s, but thanks to TV, and a new invention called a video recorder, these are things that stand out in my mind:
Thriller by Michael Jackson, especially the music video, as none of us had ever seen a music video yet. I do believe, this man was the first to think along this line.
Tina Turner turned out Private Dancer, and What’s Love Got To Do With It? And I readily got it.
Footloose released Dancing in the Streets, and we all sang it in the car, it reduced many a baby fit.
I had a red 1980’s Mustang with T-tops, so the rest of the world got to hear my babies singing it too.
No movies in the car, but we were on our way home to watch Pretty Pony, in blue.
Christmas was awful, as women and men were pushing, slapping, and stamping each other at the mall.
All fighting over which one would adopt the yarn-haired, plain, kind of ugly Cabbage Patch doll.
The saving grace was the movie “A Christmas Story” with the kid who looked silly as a big round rabbit.
Remember “You’ll shoot your eye out?” Watching that movie has become al Christmas habit.
Leg warmers came out in the spring, and a term we had never heard called workout clothes.
Exercise guru Jane Fonda’s videos were sold for millions, making Vietnam Veterans act out in droves.
Barbie was sporting the sluttiest length dresses, glitzy jewelry, and thigh-high leather boots.
Her hair was spiked into the biggest fattest curls ever combed out by a beautician in cahoots.
The men were wearing jewelry and sometimes an earring in one ear, even Ken had one.
The Ghost Busters, Jem, Transformers, Prince, and Michael Jackson’s Thriller made the 80’s rather fun!
Written 10-14-2018 Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner Contest: Remembering the 80’s
There are countless reasons to end a war…before that war’s begun…
If you’ll permit me this moment…I’d like to add another one:
Everyone has a story we add a page to every day…
Some of the chapters in my dad’s story were too difficult for him to talk about
so he filed them all away.
Chapters, I imagine, so painful his heart must have decreed
the words written on their pages were for only him to read.
He never spoke of his time in war…he was a soldier in World War II.
He never spoke of the Holocaust…or growing up a Jew.
Dad talked freely about other pages in his story…
but these chapters he kept us from.
Vital chapter in understanding the man he would become.
Mom said Dad didn’t like to talk about those horrible terrible years…
What it was like to kill an person (the enemy) he didn’t know…
how he lost the hearing in one ear.
I don’t think Dad ever realized the price we all would pay…
How much his missing chapters would cost….
How, when he closed certain chapters of his life…other chapters were lost.
When we asked Mom why Dad was always silent, grumpy
and why he wasn’t very much fun…
Mom would nod her head, sigh then tell us how war changes everyone.
She’d say, “I wish you would have known your dad before the war and killing came…
because,” she said, “ever since the war…he’s never been the same.”
And herein lies that other reason I wish wars would stop forevermore:
All the children who never had the chance to know who their parents were
before the war.
I thought coming out would be a public thing,
But it's not so much as public as admitting the truth to be set free,
I lived in fear of love for death continuously showed it's face,
Not just through physical means, but also through rejection and pain,
Shutting down seemed peaceful and honest, letting what will be, will be....
And yet there was a discontent deep inside of me,
People are going to do what they want to do, regardless of what you say,
And "I love you" will go in one ear and out the other, no matter how much you prove it to them,
This damper of expectant love seperates the best,
It pulls our hearts in a million directions and puts us to the test,
I love because I choose to, and not because you don't love me,
But when you choose not to care, oh, you can't see the pain it brings,
That breaks my heart into a million pieces, how do I deal with the pain?,
I quietly sit, and look back at myself, and blame myself again,
Maybe if I approached things differently, maybe if I said the right thing,
All those maybes are long since gone, but the love will always remain,
I can't beat my chest any harder when I've given all i had,
Yet I have learned to forgive myself, but the loss still makes me sad,
How long can we hold onto love...when pain constantly tried to block our view,
Yet in between lines of black n white, I will forever and eternally love you.