Long Jaundiced Poems
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In royal trappings to enthrone
A cerebral web with guile did hone
With glistening silk strands spun
Blithe veil of satin strings did run
Silted threads bleeding heart did stun
Your mercurial shadow skirted the sun
Into your sticky clutches, entranced suitor flew
With malice aforethought your hearth did stew
Your calculating mind did a duplicitous course hew
Strands of lies with frothy coating did imbue
A titillating, sensual dance did my writhing senses queue
Into your cauldron of charming potions my inhibitions flew
Steadfastly clinging to the passions feigned warmth did construe
In due course, your chilling ambitions with quantum leaps grew
My jaundiced shadow your malevolent mind did rue
My penitent feet now trapped in your ethereal milieu
Struggled to elude the strings bonded with a gripping glue
With panting sighs, tried to escape your clutches; bid you adieu
But with a menacing tenacity my broken heart did pursue
Until you depleted all my reserves leaving me hopelessly blue
Then drained my esteem, and shackled each parting shoe
Leaving my lifeless silhouette in the deceitful twines you did brew
The unkindest of human dread
That hits men 'pon this heart-less earth,
Not of flesh made nor is blood red—
But being left to live in dearth.
Faults of flesh can well be treated,
If not cured, alleviated,
But man no hospital has made
To cure the pain of loneliness,
Nor has medicines invented
For despair, nor for hopelessness,
Many a man has died for bread—
For a mere morsel, roof above,
Jaundiced when get heads, hearts jaded,
More die starved for mere scraps of love.
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This sonnet has tetrachords instead of the usual pentameter.
The lines are iambic as usual.
Sonnets | 07.12.08 |
Although I seethe with fingers clenched
to silence this mad virus in my marrow,
the sight of favored quality time for siblings
gnaws this band of jealousy, untamed.
Being second or third best, rage is my ally,
igniting a fury hidden inside this chest
an expanding tremor ready to pounce back...
do you smell the pain when I reach for you?
Stop the excuse that we are many kids... liars!
As a middle child, hand-me downs are gifts;
the eldest wears silk; young Randy...leather
while I sit far off in a theater like a pile of rags.
Faking a deathly nightmare in the grim of nightfall,
Mom and Dad rush to feed my thirst for attention
and while I whisper slowly about this, my revenge;
the jaundiced ghost of abandonment is unleashed...
and they brush my hair through new moon's tint
oh full of concern...without the need to speak.
Shadow Hamilton's Contest
Through Their Eyes #2 Posted 9/9/2015
Resubmitted 8/16/2016
With jaundiced eye affected by my heart
I do pray for enlightened vision glow
radiating truth of Scriptures’ rampart
toward perspective against falsehood blow.
Confessing personal biases’ blight
with jaundiced eye affected by my heart
I seek God’s pardon from arrogance-delight
gripped by hypocrisy and conceit’s dart.
Aware of preference right from the start
I do admit own vested interest
with jaundiced eye affected by my heart
thus, trusting the Lord’s guidance is still best.
Respecting others through Christ’s love in view
my spirit reaches out for grace impart
resolved never to wear empathy shoe
with jaundiced eye* affected by my heart.
*Psalm 88:9 Mine eye mourneth by reason of affliction: LORD, I have called daily upon thee, I have stretched out my hands unto thee.
June 22, 2021
Edited on July 11, 2021
1st place, "A Brian Strand July 13" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 7/12/2021.
Word Toccata in A Major
Jaundiced ’53 Cadillac in my sweetheart’s carport.
She leaves the hole keys inside the empty fish bowl.
Hidden in her trunk are a set of golf clubs with knife wounds;
Her secret boyfriend with the purple tattoo of a face scar,
Recites from shotgunned memory the Love Song by Mister Eliot,
As my sweetheart bathes upstairs with a fleeting candle and Camay,
Pure white, and scented as eucalyptus breaths in the cooing moonlight.
Fevered ’49 Commodore parked luridly in her back alley.
He retrieves the hole keys from within the empty fish bowl.
Hidden in her trunk are a brace of golf balls with black bruises;
Soon he will trudge through fairway greens in pursuit of exotic birds,
Reciting Prufrock with two young robins pecking seed before him.
Upstairs now, he relaxes in my sweetheart’s bath with Camay and a gun,
Pure crimson, and scented as medusae bulbs in the screaming moonlight.
It was the darkest night of the year, and the light was eclipsed but the haunting moon was so near. Lagging
hope faded, and the jading stillness increased my fear. Twas a warm, muggy night with a cool, misty fog drear.
A vixen wind against my jaundiced awning did sheer. All at once, ghostly emanations and visions of black
ravens became so stark so clear. From a nearby church cemetery; gasping, satin-sheathed mummies from their
soiled compartments began to rear. Wispy, veiled goblins in the distant pines started to appear. The nearby
stream gurgled spewing, nauseous vapors that filtered across my warping pier. Gargantuan gargoyles around my
crenelated windows did swerve and veer. White-tipped bats with ebony capes around my porch light did flitter
and fleer. Cringing 'neath my pleated, satin curtians, I heard a knock so *****. Bounding from my cloistered
lair, all my remaining wits did forswear. Flinging open the door, I was confronted by a craggly-clad seer. In a
hurried, modulated rant, he with warnings of pending doom filled each, perched ear. He, then, paused and
glared at me with a bleary-eyed leer. Slamming the door, I began to ponder his doleful, portentous lear, then staggering to my pantry, I grappled for a bottle of cheer. Unbeknownst to me, a pilfering vampire had
spliced a bloody concoction in my satiating beer. Suddenly, the velvet-laced furniture was shrouded with a
crimson verneer. Stumbling along a meandering course to the basement, I located a wooden box that
resembled a bier. Accepting my perilous fate, climbed into my designated tomb, and into my coroded heart
plunged a jagged spear.
Lights
Crackling embers serenade the hearth
Twinkling lights symphony to the heart
Tree
Shapely Tree signifies an organic symmetry
Burnished decorations denote a cultivated empathy
Wreaths
Embezzled twines commemorate primitive instincts
Embossed twigs celebrate a nurtured path
Spirits
Crystal glasses shelter our warmth
Spiced brandy shivers our senses
Carols
Yule tide carols enshrine distant refrains
Merry melodies embrace colloquial strains
Presents
Carefully wrapped gifts conceal our joy
Materialistic desires bare our soul
Festive Clothing
Colorful pastels cloak bright spirits
Embossed emblems shroud jaundiced minds
wearing
blinders we don't see the big picture clearly
we remain lost in a blinding pogonip
never finding our way out
of its dense, misty blanket
akin to
looking at the world
with jaundiced eyes, especially when the world
is no
clearer than
besmirched lens
keeping us from entertaining
novel ideas, seeing
situations from another perspective
such close-mindedness
does beget cynicism in
the final analysis
a celebration of blissful ignorance
to see things
as they are
we must stay awake and keep our eyes open.
Suzette Prime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Syllable count: 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, etc PLUS a philosophical statement
Date written: 01/28/2021
April's roses scent inebriates every sense
below the Gothic cathedral
cardinals doze
draping their wings over
evergreen plants
foreshadowing a cool sunset
griffins guard the bell-tower
hampering the intruders
inflicting fear on the jackals
jaundiced they hide into a jalopy
kapok is soft as cotton
ladybugs allow no sleep
manifesting vulgar wit
nibbling on naugat
oblitaring any sweetness
prie-dieu is her comfort
quickning my understanding
ravishing the merry opus
shedding light on her faith
tending toward forgiveness
unquestionable in its promise
verboten to dishonor it
wimple as sworn devotion
xenophobe not permitted
yodeling is immense praise
zither plays a Gregorian chant
Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci
Let me not play tuneless in today's time,
Some purists sure get praised as Gandhian,
Yet, crass nevertheless is no more crime,
Old values are hailed may be in heaven.
Whilst weighing values for the weathered time,
Let's mull on old saying: Thou shouldst secure
Safe income ere vouchsafing virtues pure;
So, wisdom weighs more than values' old chime.
At few places virtue may be chief good.
Some go for health, power, or reach for riches,
Or honours, a touch of pleasure pleases,
Heart has no heart in virtues, head wears hood.
Confucius with a list of values came
When values valued were at very core,
Many did talk of this out-of-fame dame,
But they managed to confuse all the more.
Holy cows when at a premium are sold,
Poor virtue as a species goes nigh rare,
In a world that today wallows in gold,
Old values get wiped out by this black mare!
A quiet virtue may conquer world's good,
Yet, virtue's prayers in silence are said
Nowhere are heard just as Lao-tse laid;
And clueless, confused I retire to brood.
Near home, digging unto our ancient text—
Mahabharata, a huge storehouse of lore,
And in today's times knee deep in context—
The epic failed to define virtue's core.
Yet, there seems but one thing to me nigh clear:
Virtue and vice, all else on death when fails,
This twain alone survives the soul when sails,
So let me virtues cheer and vices fear!
Or in today's times going in top gear,
I should my virtues fear, my vices cheer!
________________________________________
16 June 2021
For 'Jaundiced Eye' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker