Long Inconspicuous Poems
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Let the honey drips from your lips and spill into my sacred dish
Let the sorrows that you feel melts with the dark clouds as they fade with the beaten skies upon which your destiny lies, and the tears that is welled up in your eyes will break loose and flow freely with the inconspicuous breeze.
I have waited for this moment to come when we would sit by the stream and reminisce our last dream and watch the stars above us flows evenly through the skies while the moon on the other side will orbit the earth and roll its eyes in the age old dirt.
The south will sing a vibrant hymn and the rovers will get up and sing to the rhythm within, tears of joy will flow and I will finally launch a breath taking show and the vipers of the earth will watch in awe as destiny circles the contours of the surface with lights formed from the glow.
I can see the image in plain eyes as destiny walks up and down the endless sky with hands and feet bound in chains and a sign on its back saying that it has completed the game. It had brass belt wrapped around its waist and bronze bangles on its wrist and I watched wisdom drags it through a narrow road as it makes its way down the secret stairs and daylight suddenly breaks through the gate.
Everything happen so fast and the sudden mystery left me speechless in the dark ; earth comes alive and there you were sitting by my side gazing at the stars beyond the horizon; honey continues to drips from your lips and fill the sacred dish and the heavens merge with the earth and the temperature increased.
Our hearts began to grow and the wind began to blow and graciousness filled the darkened corners and civility spilled out in the open street and a crowd appeared out of nowhere chanting words of wisdom.
Unkempt, bedraggled,
Pushing her life before her
In a tatty shopping trolley,
Covered in a dirty duvet.
She moves around the town,
Slowly,
Head down,
Hugging the walls and side alleys,
Trying to be inconspicuous.
One day with curious concern, I approach.
"Hello, how are you today?"
She stares at me with wild eyes.
"Do you need anything,
A drink, something to eat?"
She opens her mouth,
Exposing rotten, stumpy teeth,
And replies, "I need peace - piss off."
Perhaps I'll try another day.
Weeks later I see her,
Hunched on a park bench,
Faithful trolley by her side.
She studies something in her hand.
I ponder on her age.
What reduced her to this life?
Rummaging in bins for food.
Sleeping in the underground carpark.
Does she have any family?
How does she survive the bitter, winter nights?
I pluck up the courage and walk over.
I notice white lines down her weathered cheeks,
Revealingly tear tracks,
Unveiling her sadness.
I sit on the bench beside her.
"Hello, can I help you?"
"Go away, leave me alone." She croaks
I press on, "Can I buy you a hot drink
And something to eat before I go?"
She shrugs, wafting her unpleasant odour.
"What would you like?"
She shrugs again, not raising her head.
I go to a nearby refreshment shed
Purchase a sugared tea and bacon roll.
She doesn't look up as I place them on the bench beside her.
Then she utters, "You can piss off now."
I go to leave and glance at a dog-eared photo she is holding,
A smiling couple, holding a young child.
Could she possibly be,
The pretty, young woman in the picture?
Maybe it's a son or daughter?
"Who's your photograph of?" I ask.
Clutching the picture to her breast,
She wildly looks at me,
Then shouts,
"I said, PISS OFF!"
I retreat.
Peering back over my shoulder
I see her,
Drinking tea and eating her roll,
Head down.
Perhaps I'll try again another day.
Form:
That Diaspora represent a piece of my identity,
Strewed my views on the squires of taciturnity,
Inconspicuous lines and depictions,
And then there's the pencil wizard,
Follow my body's rhythms, that I used to bury,
A meandering deer in the tangle of conscience,
I interred it in the depths of my gentle soul,
He was doused in letter ink,
I interfered with him in some proper link,
The beater is nipped by a beehive,
Following the poke scores another shove,
Silence and no ardour, to mitigate brain's fury,
An ink would be dainty, to soothe mind's rage,
The gap was scared, so he squeezed a sunrise,
Swollen and grown, with that slammer,
Reluctantly urge her to endow what she's realized,
I swore an oath of ultimate devotion.
Her moral sins were washed by the Lord.
You didn't hook sight of her fastening orbs.
Twilight's deeper level starts eagerly with a rally.
Written: February 20, 2022
“Time is a reckless horse galloping away, but those who can tame it can ride on it and reach destinations desirable” By Poet
Time, the cosmic beat
Length of life’s yarn
The harbinger of change
Leaving rude etchings on the face
Making a young damsel
Turn into a wizened hag.
Changing hills into plains leveled
And hollows into mounds filled!
As time advances, life decreases
And seasons pass by us unbidden.
Time rings the bell for all beginning,
And it tolls the knell for all parting.
Time may stay so inconspicuous,
Like a tiny tick unnoticed,
On the furry skin of a mangy dog
Not making its presence felt
Till unexpectedly it leaps forward,
Vanishing into thin air!
Many a time it assumes,
Royal dimensions rich,
Like a prince charming,
Riding in a winged chariot!
When it whizzes past us
Days are turned into seconds!
But when it drags by
Hours seem eons!
Time, we cannot rewind,
Nor be purchased with money or muscle.
Never static, like a river,
It rushes and hurtles into eternity.
At times may seem still
Sometimes mutely whispering,
It flows into silent timelessness!
No doubt, Time is a trickster,
So erratic, so volatile.
Yet so precious and so dear,
More valuable than all other treasures!
_______________________
April. 14.2023
~ Placed First~
Writing Challenge ‘T’ Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
You won't believe this, rightfully so, you'll think it’s not true
but a person will do anything, when he starts losing his screw
I didn't feel that any one loved me, so I devised one day
to test out my theory, in the most bizarre type of way
I found a way after considerable thought, to put myself on display
and to be able to stay inconspicuous, from a secure distance away
I watched them attend my eulogy, peculiar as it may sound
enjoying the reception, It was nothing short of spellbound
Who could think, a person as crazy as I might be
going to such extremes, who would ever foresee
to accomplish this great task, of convincing my heart
someone would somehow care, if I really did depart
In the back of the room, with shades covering my eyes
sinking into a chair, surrounded by this chorus of cries
who would ever suspect, that this stranger sitting in the back
was really not far away, from being deemed a quack
When my funeral was about over, I watched those flowers start to bend
they too seemed to be saying, haven't you yet been able to mend
so I pushed myself up front, in order to get a better look
this death looks too real, what if I really did pass over that final brook
As I approached my casket, overtaken by this powerful desire
could this really be happening, shaking with a cold perspire
to escape from this nightmare, there was but one thing to do
hastening to relieve myself, running from bed to bathroom, I flew
The lesson here to be learned, after thinking about it, was simple and clear
we often have these fears, and yet are not always aware
what’s important for us, is to truly recognize in ourselves, which is the key
understanding our need to feel loved, and the absurd lengths we go, in order to see
Candy placed her towel on one of the many shelves that separated the weight-lifting area of the gym from that of the stationary bikes and treadmills. Tossed casually next to the towel were two keys – one for her house and one for her car, together on their cute chain with the slogan: No pain, no gain. She decided to begin her workout with bicep curls. As she strode to the spot she wanted, she smiled to see that nobody was occupying that particular piece of equipment. Someone stood a short distance from where Candy had tossed her towel and keys. A shop right next to the gym made copies of keys. He had been biding his time, but today he would grab her keys and get a copy made of the house key.
The nondescript man, dark-haired and of medium stature, fancied himself quite inconspicuous in his plain gym attire: gray sweat pants and an unremarkable shirt to match it. He stared at the young woman, but the expression on his face gave no indication of whether he devoured her visually with disdain or with pleasure. He seemed to think the trim sexy blonde took no notice of him. He could not have been more wrong!
Candy indeed had noticed the man immediately upon her arrival. He was the same creep she saw almost every other time she came to the gym, which would be once or twice a week, depending on her schedule. She made a mental note of the day and hour. It matched up to the other times she’d seen him. He was a Tuesday/Thursday evening kind of guy. She wondered if he thought she were blind to not notice him eyeballing her. What audacity he had! Suddenly, she saw him move toward the very shelf where she had placed her keys. Hmmm, she thought, what is that creep up to? Candy pretended not to notice when she saw him take her keys and then slide casually out of the gym. She decided to follow him. A plan was already forming in Candy’s pretty little head.
Sept. 19, 2022 for Matt Caliri's Chapter 1 Poetry Contest
(tentative title and beginning 3 paragraphs for my one idea for a thriller mystery novel that has been on my mind for a long time. I know the direction I want it to go, but I just can't decide how I would end it!)
All I've seen is a black star in the night sky,
We fell asleep after our cross-country awry.
In my dream, I saw weak, cynical starlight,
Subtle as a map packed toward the plight.
City by the Bay up against our New York,
Oh, guys burn you agile with real torque!
A dull star of little utility in the night sky,
Leaving them burning was unwisely sway.
New Mexico in Texas when USS Arizona sank,
Stashing our shame, bold lads raced to the tank.
Idaho's air arrives at Ohio and the Great Lakes,
Twilights and nooks assist with filling the brakes.
My Florida is blazing in sight of your blue Picayune,
Reddish dryads stand out against the black Moon.
Your Eastern Time Zone is striving to attack mine,
Meander into Her shadows, the watching divine.
My highland concept and your primary time,
Right-side dawn, the sun on my wing is sublime.
The yard's satyr emerges as stern and bleak,
Strings and woodwinds adapt to the beak.
As the moon soared, she met four cardinal glyphs,
Orioles swoop over us while writhing in the cliffs.
Our states and cities merged into one community,
Resilient and devoted to justice for all and liberty.
I know where streams chime of giggling flow,
I know the wellspring where tears grow.
I know where dwells the inconspicuous star,
I know what words are yelled and how winds scar.
Written: August 14, 2022
A self-whispered battle cry
An uplifting quote for another try
With a burdened mind behind a straight face
I have a sense of self like I’m in a dark place
Inconspicuous at the battlefront
Drawn on every single day I confront
A past to escape and a future to nose
I am always one threat away from a lost cause
Regrets and fears dimension each day
Dead ends and blind curves map my way
Picking broken pieces of myself and mopping spills
I have learnt to front chills and thrills
You won’t see me rolling up sleeves
Or lurking in a thicket with rustling leaves
You won’t see me in a belligerent pose
My war is waged against inner wounds and flaws
I am heated but never bubble over with anger
I am insulted but never stumble over due to slander
I absorb the inevitability of sorrow and pain
I turn to verities to diffuse the intrusion of hate
The silence of violence is what I dread
Like the wordless cry of the mutes with a fright
An internal fray so isolated and unheard
In the depth of my heart is where I will win the quiet fight
Retract at once
This damning
Interpolation
Being treated
Like any other
Disrupting behavior
Embrace authenticity
Self compassion
Prevents progress
Put an end to your
Observable impulsive
Apathetic material
Discombobulated magnificence
Wallow in the muck with them
Untouching perfection
Hauntingly beautiful
Undubbed contextual
Insufferably overbearing
Incontextual differences.
Environmental disasters
Supercilious villains
That find meddling best
As focus turns elsewhere
Hiding in plain sight
Inconspicuous idiot
It's never their artistic.
Endeavor
Art is simple
Untouched raw
As good is the enemy of perfect.
And the perfect enemy of good
The discombobulated magnificence of this buried song creation that remains Elliott Smith’s “Abused”
Music to my ears, so mellifluous
is the nightingale's song, ambiguous,
Give ear to her notes, they float on the breeze,
swirling through the air, they're tuned to appease;
I dance to her song, so mellifluous,
She's sitting somewhere, inconspicuous,
Her aria drifts down and I’m entranced,
In the stillness, her whistling sounds enhanced;
I hear her melody, mellifluous,
and I forget all my cares, strenuous,
Lost in her lilt, feeling romantical,
All I needed was Nature's canticle;
Such mellifluous strains, simply classic,
I hear the voice of God in her music.
09.18.2021
For Constance La France's ""M" contest, new poems only"