Long Only serves Poems
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Absence as I hear them calling
Broken as I feel them falling
Cardiac as it's stalling
Darkness has me crawling
Endeavoring to its installing
Fevered by enthralling
Giving into it appalling
Heartfelt gifts sprawling
Individual love is worth mauling
Jointly our worth is stalling
Kissing my lips, befalling
Loving her, a load I'm hauling
Missing us forever recalling
No joy in finding the end
Openness only serves to offend
Patience is just pretend
Quietly wanting more than a friend
Reliving does not allow us to transcend
Seeking solutions, don't bend
Time there's none left to extend
Unbelievably easy to condescend
Viciousness has no way to amend
Wanting left no desire to attend
Xenomorphic this relationships bookend
You had every chance girlfriend
Zero desire is left to be penned
A Forms And Words Challenge Poetry Contest
20th February 2023
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Don't sit around the ashes,
Of your by-gone mistakes.
Should-a, would-a, could-a, didn't,
Just increases heartaches.
Hashing and rehashing,
Each and every curse,
Only serves to stir the pot,
And makes a bad thng worse.
Sit back and look at what's ocurred,
And learn from what you've done;
So history won't repeat itself,
And life can be more fun.
Change whate're you need to change.
Form new and better habits.
If there's a life line to be found,
Reach out your hand and grab it.
Look for good in everything,
And never pick a fight.
Spread good will and be of help.
Keep this goal in sight.
You'll find your burdens lighter.
Your dues will all be paid,
Once you finally realize,
Most troubles are home made.
I cannot forget Trayvon Martin - slain teen
no matter manifold more young people
unthinkingly killed, who spirits aspire
to ascend higher than a steeple.
revisited and slightly revised today
March 14th, 2021.
One deliberate shameful death,
whose demise linkedin
violent cessation of breath
thank heavy gun wielding hand
innocuous thug disguised
as armed neighborhood watch
firearm brandished
as weapon of choice.
Once again rifling thru outdated drafts,
I unwittingly repost grievous bulletin
that made headlines nine plus years ago,
an innocent lad received fatal shot
into said unarmed teenager's chest
according to testimony
courtesy Doctor Vincent Di Maio.
Memory of aforementioned crime
relegated to dustbin of criminal minds
whereby dime a dozen killings
(nowadays barely register shock)
countless young persons
genetically bequeathed with
healthy dose of melanin
gunned down during their prime.
George Zimmerman (then age 28)
ought to be pitched into the
alligator and crocodile infested Everglade
for his senseless killing (outright murder)
of Trayvon Martin slammed
as involved some illicit wick kid trade
(a slender African American
more precisely youth flush with color
only 17 years young -
(birthdate - February 5th, 1995
death date - February 26th, 2012),
whose martyrdom grows
as days/weeks fade
an exemplary gregarious helpmate
swimming against the tide
to make the grade
now slain while just a youth -
the unfounded killing
by a neighborhood watch volunteer,
who felt afraid
that this dark skinned young man
appeared suspicious pulled the trigger
with comeuppance to be paid
though -- no retribution can restore
lifeless body, still
agitated waters nor offer shade
from the justifiable media frenzy
sparked from Geraldo Rivera made
even with unanimous
approval of guillotine blade
for violence cannot only rejuvenate
a promising future
evinced by Trayvon Martin
reincarnated into tree or leaf blade
but only serves to beget subsequent
violence now unto his grave
said teenager laid!
Beings of the mysterious light of creation appear on Earth
As the children of the universe, however,
Their skin colour differs, their hair texture is not same
Their lifestyle gets formed by their country of birth
Yet, the same blood runs in their veins
And they have in them,
The same desire to attain the mysterious light
From which they have all originated!
The paths they have to walk on are same;
They all need to find the means to survive
In a realm of temporariness which only serves
As an opportunity to atone for their previous sins
And to pray to be absolved of these
So as to be rewarded of an existence
In some place which the human eyes cannot perceive!
Yet, the stay in the realm of temporariness
Remains challenging as the children of light
Are subjected to the tests of maintaining
Their lives peaceful through the virtue of
Having tolerance for each other's differences
So much that having their flag on a piece of land
Has become the cause of ruthless violence
Which douses off their faith in the source of light!
Watching all this, the universe cries, as it only wanted
To see its children laughing while playing with each other!
The hallow husk of his once dear friend, turns its bird-like head, dark eyes intentionally resting just below his own blue-green eyes, as if it were impossible for a ghoul such as this to gaze upon anything true and alive without recognizing its own emptiness, and briefly surveys its old friend as if in judgement from a high perch; Its forked, corrosive tongue cuts through the air like poisonous darts seeking soft tissue: "You're too emotional. It's pathetic. Why are you so weak now? Nobody cares about your pain. You think too much. Just enjoy yourself."
And this thing before him, this thing that wears the skin of his old mate—that beloved friend who once had real human blood rushing through his heart, mind, and soul, that precious life water that tethers you to the great and vital river vein called Humanity—now gives a dry and short series of gasps intended to mimic a mocking laugh, full of hatred and resentment both meant to tactfully conceal jealousy and shame, but do not quite cover the lie, which only quickens its face turning away to join the others who were also dead before their time; All with the same expensively shampooed hair sleek and wet in the smokey haze of neon bar lights, sweat-stained designer clothes hiding their starving ribcages, and earrings, necklaces, chains, watches, and countless finger rings, all much to gaudy to be real, but nonetheless are what they traded away their empathy and compassion for, and so they lavish these meaningless possessions that adorn their gaunt frames.
A society of the shallow and empty, every member once came to that crossroads in life, each taking fire to burn their kindness, empathy, and compassion, out of their souls one flick of a butane lighter at a time, making the evil smiles of the already-initiated glow orange through the black glass. By night, they prey upon the good and the kind, not just to steal their life force, but to spread their hatred until the world is just as bleak and empty as them.
Those who choose to sever themselves from their humanity disdain all light, as it only serves to remind them of their own weakness and of the priceless thing they gave up for it. Something nearly lost to their memories, as now their memories begin themselves to fade away. They know only that your goodness offends their eyes, behind which, you may learn lies an endless cruelty.
Dear Diary
I know because I have been forewarned
That when my name is brought up
and I am mentioned and
referenced in certain other people's
company
Some people choose to refer to me as
isn't he funny but not meant as or
to be complimentary
But rather as they think I am joke and
meant to be a poke
Which only serves to prove to me I
am exactly where I am supposed to
and wish to be
Because if they spoke of me or held
me in high regard or thought we held
similar opinions or points of view
Then I fear I would have to take a
long hard look at myself and revaluate
who I think and believe I am
The type of person who much prefer
to gossip about other people when
they are soundly out of earshot behind
their back's
Who wouldn't dare spout anything but
praise if standing right in front of them
whilst simultaneously avoiding all forms
of eye contact just incase they see the
white's or color of their eyes
So Dear Diary please promise me that
you will never to constantly remind me
every time I decide to make a fresh entry
To remind me that life is not a popularity
contest based solely upon good looks an
alarming lack of intelligence or morals
and character
But rather being able to look oneself
in the eye and being able to sleep at night
So gladly please feel free to poke away
and think of me as joke it's merely
water off a duck's back to me
And ditto same , same here , here right
back at you
I think you're funnier than I am or could
ever be difference being
I am actually trying to be which
is ironic because sadly you aren't
We fit now; we complete one another.
Our lives have melted into one
and we dissolve into the unity
which consolidates our synthesis.
We fit now; we complement one another.
Our differences unite us. Our individuality
only serves to combine our commonality;
our separateness compounds our pairing.
We fit now you and I. Sharing the same path;
Sometimes together, sometimes apart.
We deviate and divide, only to combine again
when occupational distraction is done.
We are comfortable and contented.
There is no division in description;
we are affiliated in partnership,
blended, amalgamated, in simpatico.
Our bodies merge in the conformity of belonging.
The longing dovetails our diversity and unites us.
We have emerged from the swirl of separation
as one and I love you. We fit now.
Once I learned I’d have to pay for my sins
Today I see there’s not a sin that’s not ‘in’
Once I was told to respect every teacher
Today a teacher’s the lowest of creatures
Once the US flag was a source of pride
Today it only serves to divide
Once girls admired a ‘man in uniform’
Today they seek out ‘singular unicorns’
Once teens practiced ‘making conversation’
Today they can’t talk, they’re texting sensations...
Did everything die; is nothing sacred anymore
Well, kids still ask parents for money
~ only today a whole lot more
Was I forged in the crucible of fate,
To be a vessel for sorrow's endless weight?
Was I crafted to weep in solitude's dark night,
A solitary figure, lost in unrelenting light?
Am I but a pawn in the game of life,
A fleeting amusement, a moment's trivial strife?
Was I created to be a mere whisper, unheard and unseen,
A forgotten whisper, lost in the din of humanity's scheme?
My days are shrouded in a veil of tears,
A perpetual sorrow that dries my eyes and sears.
I kneel, a supplicant, hands clasped in fervent prayer,
Yet the heavens remain silent, unmoved by my despair.
Oh, the crushing weight of existence's cruel design,
A life of suffering, where pain is my sole companion, my heart's rhyme.
I scan the faces of others, searching for a glimpse of hope,
A fleeting smile, a moment's respite from this endless scope.
But alas, their joy only serves to underscore my plight,
A stark reminder of the happiness that's denied to me, a life without light.
I wonder, was I born to be a martyr to pain,
A perpetual outsider, forever trapped in this desolate terrain?
How do I convey the depth of my anguish, my heart's cry,
That the universe might take notice, and respond, "I hear you, I see you, I am here"?
I've knocked, I've pleaded, I've waited, but the door remains closed,
And I am left to wonder, was I created to suffer, forever exposed?
Biological copulation draws Easter egg,
fecund gooey glommed gametes
heralding zygote
(adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion
generate hormonal influx
juices kickstarting life manifold
natural occurrence pregnancy quilts
rudimentary secrete tapestry
until vicar wizard yields
zealous adorable biological concatenation,
derivative extrapolated filigreed
Gonads heft, induce jointly knotted linkedin MineCraft
nascent occurrence
presaging quintessential reproduction, sharing third trimester,
umbilical venerated womb
yawping zee amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic acid,
enigma fantastically grand
husband injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic nothings,
opportunistically pierced quarters, readied shutterfly trap,
uterus vibrantly welded
* * * * * * * * *
yoked zappa bun, cooked definitive enchilada,
formula generations hardy
induced jimmied kin, labored maternal newborn, one pricked queue,
randiness spurred testes ubiquitously, voyaged whimpering yelper
thence subjected to the royal treatment
whence reality inundates the full term offspring
upon a lifelong journey (initially as a foreigner sans in utero),
but willfulness viz life source secures survivor
against the pinging peccadilloes
learning by trial and error to iron out kinks
as one among the human league
since the modus operandi to transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus
to traverse poet tent shill pitfalls along
space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.
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