Long Inexplicably Poems
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THE CURSE OF THE LOVED ONES
Three bears witness in the patio of love:
The loved, the unloved and the extinguisher.
For some, quite inexplicably,
It's a song that fades untimely or premeditatedly,
For others love is simply lost,
And it could also be found even just for a night
The intoxications of him who has a hole in his pocket.
And another, it is the crudest kind;
The one that almost kills it victims,
It's the unrequited love.
Most stories are about those who fall in love with each other
But how about those that fall in love alone?
They are the victims of the one-sided affair,
The unloved ones but loved ones,
The wandering walking wounded -
Handicap of the advantage of a great parking space.
Unlike the ones who keep saying:
'The right person will come' (I think a truck hit yours)
Whereas, bypassing the available and harmless "signpost",
Then becoming a cursed Cupid;
Those who despite the pleas of conscience
And despite my sacrifice & heroics -
I broke my ribs to make a pen,
Write long lasting lovely lofty letters,
Rip off my flesh to make a paper
And took out my blood to make an ink.
I never forget a face for free besides femmes fatales
But I make an exception in your case.
Though it takes a strong heart to love,
It takes a stronger one to continue to love after its been broken.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright©2014.
While the oceans are churning
The world above is slowly burning
Flags of freedom have turned white
Giving up before they even fight
At the expense of the American dream
We've sold our future for an American meme
They don't care about me, nor you, nor us
As they round us up to get on the bus
Our children are full of cancer
And mothers beg for answers
So offer prayers to a do nothing God
Standing before the firing squad
But it sure is great we're no longer woke
As the American dollar tanks and we're broke
The world has descended into insanity
By a leader trapped in vanity
Some fight to be free
While others inexplicably fail to see
We sell friends to dictators
To become the world's traitors
And don't you dare hide your face
From the Great American Disgrace
Flags of freedom have turned white
Damned by cowards who can't fight
I dreamt of you last night.
Or were you whispering to me?
Musty mist swirled around,
Feverish fog muddled my vision.
In panic, I dreamt I could not find you.
I searched into the labyrinth of my mind,
Where spectral haze impeded me.
I combed the place and crawled,
To the center of a mighty solid maze
And found that I was utterly lost.
Why can’t I hear your loving whispers?
Then, in a faint sliver of a wan moon ray,
I thought I caught a chimerical glimpse of you,
Head shaven, opaquely dressed
In a dark yellow caustic gown.
Inexplicably the light went out and you were gone.
Happiness was so easily accessible to me,
But I spurned all favorable occasions.
I turned my back to your silken caresses,
I ignored your passionate kisses.
Yet you still whispered sweet nothings to me.
And now I search for the inaccessible.
I search for what my soul yearns.
Why do I limp with blazing eyes?
Why do I lament what I have lost?
Yes, I dreamt of you last night.
And then I woke, covered in sweat,
Trembling with fear, you were near me
Whispering comfort, soothing my hair,
Showering inexhaustible ardor,
Caressing with your gentle hands,
Drowning me in ecstasy, in abundant joy,
Until dawn streamed its exuberant lights.
15 July 2021
WHISPERS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
Placed straight 5 out of 10
FADED
I was visible once
but now one of the forgotten ones.
I faded away slowly
imperceptibly,
like the once vibrant colour of blue jeans.
My edges frayed
as I walked along the road of fleeting popularity.
I felt my fabric thinning
until I became comfortable.
It made me kinda cool in a way.
I was paired with shirts and sweaters
until a time later other clothes seemed better.
My holes became too noticeable,
instead of somewhat perceptible.
The day came
when I was just a bit out of style.
So you washed and folded me
carefully put me on a shelf.
After all, I was a favourite.
No one wants to throw a favourite away.
Right there in the closet I stayed,
next to all the pretty new things.
I waited
craving the day
you might wear me again.
But somehow,
things just are what they are.
Faded old blue jeans
inexplicably disappear.
If you ever do find them
you smile and remember
how they made you feel.
Sadly though,
when you try them on,
they just don't fit anymore.
Unbeknownst tummy why, (around
about 2200 hours October 5th, 2018),
a slew of forgotten incidents quasi
lee linkedin, and questionably
nsync, though lightly browned
with Alfred Lord Tennyson's,
"The Charge of the
Light Brigade" - ("found"
via Google search), nonetheless,
said decades old reminiscences
and remembrances, viz
early father forcefully
came barging unstoppably,
and furiously galloping
out of the blue - painfully crowned
ning me noggin like
a crash test dummy
on the prowl akin
to a frenzied blood hound
tearing at light speed - unbound
(defying laws of physics) just now
forgotten instances I feebly
try to expound
inexplicably purportedly
buried in a “mound”
long forgotten everyday details,
when all my (deux than
young restless) children abound
did with limitless energy ground
me with fatigue as the world turned,
two beautiful hearts lovingly pound
ding with oblivious innocent bliss,
ah such ordinariness unwound
recollections roared back resound
ding lee - into my mind
with out a sound
re: collections long since past
suddenly didst rib bound
did (mainly, when thee and the Punim
spent time at playground
as young little girls),
who oft times found,
ye or Shana clamoring
for this dada to push
both of thee simultaneously
on the swing or merry-go-round,
or later on during that evening,
or another occasion found
the three of us
laughing (ho...ho...ho...) as we played
one or another round
of Mancala, Uno, Scrabble,
Sorry, (where this papa clowned
no matter, he got his game pieces round
lee sent homeward bound),
those supposedly forgotten
days of yore suddenly rumbling
within thy inner sanctum all mound
joyless deep under ground
came barreling thru my psyche
analogous to a class 5 hurricane
like gang busters
lashing out and drowned
at my whole being.
Autumn leaves fall down,
Ready, expected, aware:
You would never question the event,
Or climb a tree to pull one off,
And then place it on the ground.
So why question suffering?
A universality so common and random,
Just to be received and convincing.
Nature is natural,
Both greenery and living organisms,
So why pull them out of the world,
Away from their context - both good and bad,
To make them the the ones to blame?
Not communally, but individually,
Unknown to their surroundings inexplicably.
Evolution sets us up by time,
With nature as itself,
Not determined or bold or pointing,
But just perfect:
Interacting and relational,
Becoming better and better every day:
Stronger, more intelligent and more moral.
John Keats’ Nightingale represents nature,
Because it gives voice to that beauty and majesty,
In song, so expressive and unaffected and free,
Encouraging us to think rationally about suffering:
The bird’s music is so fair and equalising -
For anyone, open to all in its accessibility,
Allowing us to feel and think through poetry.
God answers miraculously, and powerfully!
Suddenly, inexplicably, amazingly
God the Father is able beyond all measure
God gave us the Kingdom of God
Before the foundations of the world!
God is able because we are His Workmanship and
We were prepared beforehand for good works for His Glory!
God the Father is our Source
God is able
His Grace is Sufficient and
His Love is Supreme!
We have His Power working in us
God is the One we can Trust and
We can have boldness and confidence
Through Faith in Christ Jesus
God the Father is Able
He can do that which must be DONE
Wherever comes this strange, black chill
an overwhelming desire at the brink
inexplicably drawn and curious to sink
into the abyss of an unknown cavern?
Weighty and darker than the deepest sea
from blackest ink of a moonless night
its mystery surrounds, as I take flight
under solemn layers of silent secrets.
Vision now vanishes, only touch to replace
for there are no images to embrace
nor sights to trace in this wretched place
a devilish black hole with an evil face.
Black upon black looms ever on
hemmed within slick and craggy walls
black bats shriek, the midnight hour calls
as I stumble into the black void of a forever fall.
(alternately titled “How art thou dear reader?”)
(Inexplicably triggers domino effect
and doth indirect
lee send favorable
ripples vibrantly unchecked.)
vagaries of an uncertain
today or tomorrow
excites this scribe,
with a whim
analogous to sensational leitmotifs
introducing note worthy
composition melody,
and/or lyric with vim
and vivacity, particularly
to avoid behavior
being predicable, and also
(more importantly for)
to partake of the vast trim
ming of life, (not just those
reserved for holiday time),
where every day provides
an opportunity, no matter slim,
and/or fat chance to bring,
(or deliver a smile)
via friendly gesture accompanied
with a kind word
such as "hello,"
cuz no cost involved being friendly
to a self absorbed passersby
alighting, and enabling
stark contrast day, sans
gloom and doom uttering,
an innocuously neutral
greeting to bring
a dollop of good
day (not simply,
those festive occasions
(mainly and most
optimally, favorably,
and conveniently during)
Thanksgiving, and/or Christmas,
but any given evening
no matter the season if only to fling,
(albeit verbally) one or more glee
full spontaneous vocalization -
(USDA NON GMO,
gluten and monosodiumglutimate free)
surprising yourself (myself
in this case) voluntarily prithee
boost interpersonal
social awkwardness,
perhaps even offering
to lend a helping hand re
garding circumstance,
where an individual
might be contending
with something obviously
beastly, heavy, and/or
unwieldy to manage
despite the outcome, where
no response
might be forthcoming,
maybe experiencing feeling
snubbed without letting
air of indifference
(from recipient) sting!
The sight of a tree has been known
to move people to tears of joy,
while others, inexplicably, see it
as something only to destroy.
But here is an inescapable fact:
when we help trees to grow and thrive,
they certainly return the favor
by helping us all to stay alive.
When we gaze out our windows,
they are a welcome canopy of green,
and (did you know?) they filter our water
making it clean, clear and pristine.
And on those warm sunny days
as you go on a leisurely promenade,
trees provide natural air conditioning;
who doesn't love a walk in the shade?!
In these days of climate change,
we need trees more than ever.
Only a fool thinks they're an annoyance.
Fact is, a tree is a natural treasure.