Long Knick knacks Poems
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" Obsession to live on memories losing past invites nostalgia." - Poet.
NOSTALGIA
Nostalgic notion nags for those already depressed.
Overwhelming obsession to reminisce dead events.
Sickness to swing on search of old sentiments of bygone days.
Traveling back along path of memories longing for relishing fresh.
Approaching in vain to access on chapters of past life.
Lingering over lamentation or contentment met in adrift days.
Groaning, grating, grinding grasping forgotten knick-knacks.
Intense inclination to live on remembrances.
Alluring rumination of long-lost dreams once aglow now fading..
1/19/23
Getting through endeavors
Doing better
More focus on what is important instead of only pursuing pleasure
Even though ladies never give me the time of day
Like animals, I'm a stray
Just could not find my way
Deep down quite okay
I tell the truth, so it won't always be nice things I say
So much wrong in the world, no person should have been treated like a slave
Still today too many lives at stake
Jeopardizing people acting nice then snake
Regardless if they're asleep or wide awake
It's continuous occurring on since before the iron age
Is there any way to make the cycle change?
I have tried
24/7 at times
Took one step then hit landmines
Followed by a swarm of sand flies
I thought my heart had died
Because I flatlined
Now I just want love no bad vibes
It's what I always wanted, but I know that it's about damn time
If you let it too much toxic stuff can slide
I apologize if my mind is a bit hazy
Life get's crazy
I'm starting to like this lady
She thinks I'm similar to Slim Shady
Of our origin we still can't find a trace
Wake up we don't truly know if we evolved from primates
All these swines and fakes
These schmucks keep secrets and humans in a confined space
Had nothing to lose, then it turned high stakes
For too long was not in a nice place
Now got a better mind state
I still overdrink, and don't always hydrate
Like wild animals, I need to migrate
Much to achieve, so why wait?
Worldwide not just across five states
All this senseless violence and blind hate
I have improved
Back in the groove
Not the same old outlook and attitude
Working on making less bad moves
Despite being a lonely sad dude
I know that there is so much that I can do
And that that's true
A lot of bad luck
Instead of not giving a damn
In order to get through all the sad stuff
I had to become smarter work harder and man up
Making a splish splash
During the daylight or when it was pitch black
Often I'd give back
Having a profound impact
Occasionally I'll pop a tic-tac
Fiddle with knick-knacks
While at times in life it can get whack
Occasionally coming with whiplash
These clowns sweeter than a Kit-Kat
In a world full of endless chit-chat
Always over this and that
Despite speaking on it like it's a fact
A routine annual clean up
at the start of the New Year!
Among heaps of used up papers
and broken knick- knacks-
in the contents of her shelf’s drawer,
lay a photograph,
old and musty.
Memories rushed back as waves onto the shore.
She had kept it as a keepsake,
when love was raging through her veins!
A face that she wished to see all through her life,
now a bitter sweet reminder of joy and pain.
Through the years, what all changes
and how their love had faded out of memory.
Suddenly,
all too suddenly,
from the charred bones
of a died down funeral pyre,
resurrected someone,
with lovelorn eyes
bursting the bandage of time.
His sad eyes, rivetted at her.
She saw the smile fading out from his face.
Her eyes went dim with tears.
In the blurred image, she saw her past.
A torn leaf from life's chronicle.
A story she had hidden from everyone.
She felt the ground slipping under her feet
Blood and serum oozed out
and once more
she became,
a festering wound!!
Time may put an ache to sleep,
but anytime it may wake up and peep!
Under the inky façade of the night sky,
With reluctant steps, I joined the stream of men
Flowing to the place of the great celebration.
A huge crowd was already there in the temple premises.
Its vicinity was bursting with colour and flashing lights.
The young and the old, clad in festal attire,
With fire in their hearts and festive sheen in their eyes
Thronged, not driven by piety, but mostly to enjoy the fanfare.
Festoons decorated the trees that lined the compound.
Colourful lamps were blinking everywhere
Sacred bells kept chiming intermittent
At the auspicious hour, as devotional songs rent the air,
The chief deity was brought out of the shrine
And was placed on the caparisoned elephant,
Accompanied by pulsating percussion ensemble.
The devotees cheered witnessing the majestic entourage.
Within them, the fervid spring of joy swelled.
Colourful umbrellas were unfurled,
Drawing synchronized patterns in the air.
An army of hawkers had already set up shops.
Each made it a time to earn some bucks,
Selling knick-knacks and goodies- from ice creams
To popcorn and colourful balloons, to tempt children
The young ones ran around licking cotton candies.
Some enjoyed blowing up soap bubbles,
With iridescent orbs landing softly on their hair and dress.
Under the glare and noise, the heat and sweat,
Amid the tumultuous beat of trumpets,
And the rhythmic sounding of cymbals,
The crowd swayed in psychedelic lassitude.
I was just a mute witness to the whole hullabaloo.
Amid the faceless crowd, I stood aloof, so aloof,
With an abysmal loneliness gnawing me from inside.
I had hoped the carnival would help me forget the past
And drown my scalding pain, but sad memories,
Followed me close to my heels like a mangy mongrel.
Deep down, how I wished I was part of the revelry!
I remember now. Something was heavy, a winged
dragon that refused to fly from my chest
My eyes were secret mirrors, or a doomsday judge.
I remember morning as a flighty horse,
or like a new school year,
that first careful sentence written on a page.
Time became a sequel. Roads were rootless trees
racing by - Fog an x-ray – the night, annoying as a fly.
I had a misconception and her assumptions followed
every stray dog. I quivered hollow with a frantic yellow zest.
I ate from a dish of nutmeg.
I woke to the sound of dying frogs, impossible spiders
trapping rainbows in their webs, the nebulous orbit
of knick knacks in the room, my reach
too small for a mother’s heart.
Her seeds had such an element of surprise, her
plum lipstick, the zing of frayed nerves
she mocked death with a cup of sunshine
she kept an artist’s palette - adding
color to existence
Too late, the impossible demand on angels
Each bitter thought the baroque decomposing
of an empty optimism
My keyless lock - emotion
Premiere Contest number 12
Contest Judged: 9/24/2016 12:01:00 AM
Sponsored by: SKAT A
Placed 9out of 10
Entered in the Best Poem worthy of a Trophy
I have entered this poem because it came from
out of the ether. Some poems just do.
Deeply felt almost not understood but felt on a visceral level.
N/A’d
get out your words and try
try to make everything all right
sling them like arrows
into the gauntlet of time
do they even know
what they're trying to find
or do they just need to unwind
this old man played
too many knick-knacks too many times
too many paddy whacks to give his dog a bone
and that's okay... he's got his syllables
to lead him... astray ...or guide him home
it doesn't matter... they love to roam
over the highways and byways
through space and time
through the intricate mazes
of his heart and mind
not looking to mean anything
but to be happily lost.. like petals in the breeze
fluttering, floating and flying free
that's all they've ever needed to be
but if they could find their way
to a better place on some promising day
and could kiss you long enough
sink hard enough and deep enough
they'd never be forgotten
It came to me
upon reflection
Life is one
great big collection
Starting with a
teddy bear
and ending with
a gasp of air
The time between
those points is rough
accumulating
all this stuff
Books and knick knacks
line the shelves
and in it all
we lose ourselves
Hand-me-downs
and souvenirs
hoarded all
throughout the years
Cups and saucers,
pots and pans,
electric heaters,
ceiling fans
Pictures, music,
magazines
amounting to
a hill of beans
Clothes and cars,
boats and planes,
nervous breakdowns,
aches and pains
Husbands, wives,
foes and friends
This great collection
never ends
And once our time
on earth goes by,
the years wind down
and then we die
We never seemed
to have enough,
and someone else
gets all our stuff
limp roses
blue boots, vinyl, knee length
hair extensions braided like sun-rings
pleasure knick knacks
perfume bottles
lacey things that hug the bodice
under garments, lipstick smudged
stained dentures
wrappers like scattered seed
brothel trash bin overflowing
young man slinks from the shadows
picks up plum colored leggings
"I knew her.
My family thought me at church.
But there's different ways of worship."
brothel walls, graffiti gloom
seem to whisper
lost shuddering joy
gasping delights
restless yearning
sighs that slip to groans
I see a bedspring mattress 'gainst the wall
charred remains
smoked rawness
air, dust brown heavy
like her legend
powerless voices quiet
when the brothel closed
sheared
unapologetic
in the hellish heat of gold.
Poem composed: February 17, 2021
The mind is a most dangerous thing,
Forcing memories into replay,
Endless relived moments drowning bring
Snippets in time more real than today.
Paralyzing sadness is trouble
Which the mind needs to be addressing.
Before I died inside, I really tried.
The sleepless mind toys with our heartstrings,
Always knowing our loved one can’t come back.
‘Sorry for your loss’ causes cringing,
Tearful anger and urge to attack.
Remembering makes sadness double,
Sharp edged memories, full of longings.
Why drive to survive, living isn’t alive.
The mind is also a tricky thing,
Lulling into complacency when
Life together starts out with a ring.
Daily work and play begin to blend
Into a wonderful, safe bubble
That protects against everything.
Love is giving a life worth living.
The unhappy mind prevents planning
For a future without one to love,
Alone, unsafe, fruitlessly scanning
Every crowd for my dearest dove.
Real life bursts that beautiful bubble,
And now frightened by everything.
Looked everywhere on Earth for her.
The mind needs a sense of belonging,
Not at all happy being alone. Minds together sing dreams that take wing,
Unsatisfied by just talk on phone.
The mind stings by the urge to cuddle
That knick-knacks and holidays still bring.
Be kind to the mind by living to love.
I’m quirky; that’s just how I love to be.
I don’t think many people are like me.
The things I like most, I turn them into
obsessions which, without fail, I must do!
New movies weekly I have got to see.
I’m quirky; that’s just how I love to be.
Movies at theaters on a big screen!
This habit I’ve had since I was a teen.
I have collections, and how each one grows!
Old records, books, knick-knacks, jewelry and clothes,
and some of them span half a century.
I’m quirky; that’s just how I love to be.
Routines I’ve formed for my health and for fun.
Each week I can barely get them all done.
From skin care - to diet - to poetry,
I’m quirky; that’s just how I love to be!
Feb. 14, 2018 for Madison Demetros' Quirky Contest