Long Sympathizing Poems
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WHERE DO WE POETS GO
Where do we poets go, breathing last?
Emotive beauty of poetic persona
floats with cosmic flow
blinking, twinkling with sparkling stars
in poetic glistening glance.
Where do we poets go, breathing last?
Charismatic charm of poetic persona
glazes, glows on glossy petals of abloom flowers
in soft poetic pleasure.
Where do we poets go, breathing last?
Pearly passion of poetic persona
dances with little brittle ripples of flowing river
in perfect poetic rhythm.
Where do we poets go, breathing last?
Romantic aroma of poetic persona
blows with gentle breeze to freeze
in wobbling dreamy hearts of lovers
spraying fragrance in poetic ardor.
Where do we poets go, breathing last?
Sublime soul of poetic persona
sighs, sympathizing grief-stricken broken heart
lamenting on long-lost love
with pristine poetic solace.
11/28/20
Second Place
'Where Do We Poets Go' Contest by Silent One.
who isn’t you
wise readers
will know the difference
I want a narrator
more unsettling
than Nabokov created
for ‘Lolita’
I want a narrator
to cringe at
while sympathizing with
I need “milk plus”
from ‘Clockwork Orange’
while I learn the dialect
of Anthony Burgess
before I ruin Beethoven
It takes sustained energy
to hate a character
while never forgetting them
“My vanity
was the cause
of it”
I still wink at you,
Moll Flanders
a woman too clever
for shallow understanding
My “androgynous mind”
will have to be enough
for adequate love,
Virginia Woolf
I have all the worst intentions:
devious dialog
with peppered,
cutting
fashion statements
to make phantom readers
laugh and scowl
Cruella Deville
taught me everything
one late afternoon
in August
while we hunted swans
over toast points
and caviar
Her opponents on the court
Must battle inner quaking
In anticipation of the shots
That she will soon be making.
Watching her attack the ball
Is so intimidating,
I would hate to be the one
Across the net, just waiting.
As a fan, I watch in awe –
Her power, strength and muscle,
Plus the fleetness of her feet
Add up to quite a hustle.
Toss determination in –
She’ll go that extra mile –
And you’ve got Serena:
She’s a powerhouse with style.
I’m watching her compete right now,
In neon pink and yellow,
And every aspect of her game
Is anything but mellow.
The match is done – Serena’s won,
An outcome not surprising;
As for her future challengers,
I’ll soon be sympathizing.
If you're now ever suspected by our present day government
of being a terrorist or sympathizing enemy combatant,
you can now be detained indefinitely,
under our president's authority.
No more rights securing our papers and property
from any government sponsored search and seize.
A warrant our government no longer needs.
Forces can now break down our doors anytime freely
and search and seize our property
and then at their discretion, detain us indefinitely.
No rights to prevention of enhanced interrogation,
otherwise known as cruel and unusual punishment.
No rights to a trial, no rights to an attorney,
no rights to information as to your locality
need be given to you or any of your friends and family,
and if you should get lucky and one day be released
because you were innocent and not guilty,
your accusers will have absolutely no accountability.
In the year of 2011 on the day of December 15th,
the National Defense Authorization Act was passed with a vote of 86 - 13.
*
SillyBilly, theKidster
Politically Educated Contest
*
While we were sleeping
America became communist.
Of course they don’t call it that now,
And it isn’t ALL communist,
But at least 51% is all you need
To get your way in a democracy.
How did it happen?
Slowly, steadily, and completely
By design.
Most of these communists
Don’t even know they are,
Let alone Marxist sympathizing socialists,
Although now socialism
Isn’t the dirty word it used to be.
So the short answer is we got soft
And complacent, and spoiled
By the good times
The tougher generations of our ancestors
Bestowed.
But once they bestowed those times
They too started to get soft
And old, and fighting the good fight
Against communists, and youth and change
Isn’t so attractive when you’re old and soft.
So here we are
Pretty much screwed by the inevitable decline
Which greatness always faces.
Soft and old isn’t such a bad way to go after all.
It’s being soft and young now
That’s the b*tch.
(2/18/24)
I vividly remember my childhood days,
we had a small garden,
in which we grew marsh mallow,
butterflies would sit on them.
Moment I woke up, I would run to them,
to see how many flowers had bloomed
Oh! The exquisite beauty of colourful butterflies sitting on them,
it would give me immense joy.
I would often gently caress them,
smell them, even hug them.
Oh! How much I loved them.
Every time I made a mistake and my parents scolded me,
I would run to them for solace.
I was done accidently, it was done not knowingly,
I would lament to them.
All my joy and happiness,
they would be the first one to hear,
I would share my victories with them,
show them my prizes.
Oh! I did love them.
Butterflies were no longer scared me,
they knew I would not harm them,
They would keep sitting their, while I talked to them,
Their beautiful colour and design was a marvel of nature,
They were the most exquisite of God's creations.
They were a friend of marsh mallows,
so where they of me,
How much I loved to watch them fluttering joyfully.
I would weave stories with my dolls,marsh mallows and butterflies,
I would spend hours playing with them.
When I joined guitar class I would play to them,
they would dance to my tunes,
I would be really amazed then.
They were my best friends forever,
Who would listen patiently,
as i rambled my joys and sorrows...
I felt I could feel their emotions,
As if they could feel my emotions,
They were either happy or sympathizing with me.
One day father brought the news,
we were leaving that house for good.
I was beside myself with sorrow.
What about my marsh mallow?
Who would take care of them?
I can't leave them to die!
They were my best friends!
My soulmates!
Mother tried to console me,
they would soon get another girl,
who would love them the way you did.
"Don't worry dear,
God takes care of everyone here"
With a heavy heart I bade them goodbye,
I sang my last song to them,
with tears in eyes I left them.
I would oft remember them,
Over the years they were forgotten...
Now I tell my children stories about them,
They were wonderful memories,
Memories that still bring joy and happiness to me,
Memories that can never be forgotten.
I came from a generation of laughter,
while night faded the flames
freeing the moon from its silence,
flowing with dreams, dewlike
hopes, singing in tenor, voices rising
from the ashes of a moment
before hearts felt the rhythmic trembling,
bleeding through the colors,
crisp, clean ivory and sunburst joy
believing the moments were healed,
blessed by grace…
amusement was relieved by the notes,
softly playing in the background
We know faith, sympathizing
with memories, stirring awake,
feelings, blessings who save –
needless to say, they save the souls
who hear beneath the laughter,
the chill of a breathless kindness,
grace fills and heals, fulfills…
laughter abides in the heart who hears,
gentle tears, quiet fears
sensitive prayers never fail to believe
wherever we go, whatever we know,
we can abide in the grace that never lies,
grace that defies the darkest time,
grace that decides – love is alive – His love,
it invites the soul to survive the fury of a past,
where lonely might suggest…
grief has never left, grief is the shadow’s relief,
grief is pierced by faith, colored by prayers,
left to die on the bedside of grace,
where life knows the music of peace,
the beautiful that comes from believing,
He is everlasting – He is the reason…
Laughter won’t die when it sees beneath the colors,
Into the spirit of a love that never worries
Because it is this love that prevails over all others –
This love, it is His design – His wonderful
Shining like Sonshine, defeating all the worst that comes,
Rising through the darkest night, defeating the fears,
Reassuring with love that will never be overpowered,..
It is the risen love from a life that crushed satan and delivered me…
From the worst that is – the worst despair,
The darkness of an eternity without His love…
Because of this love, this man who saved my soul,
I know what it means to let go of suspicion,
To believe without hesitation – to agree, His gift of grace,
Is more marvelous than anything I’ve ever hoped to know.
His gift, His grace, His love… saved my soul from despair.
Because of Him, I am saved from every fear and doubt.
Because of His love, I know the way out…
The way through… the way to… life that is unending,
Life that is … just the beginning!
Nostalgic of my Mom’s death…
… almost two decades ago…
then of my Dad’s demise---
--- in 2019---
here am I gripped with blest serenity
knowing that they both are with the Creator
by virtue of their faith in the Saviour
Who promised wondrous eternal life
to those that put their trust in Him---
the Way, the Truth, the Life.
Reminiscing those agonizing moments…
here am I thankful to God
for assuaging the afflicting pain
I had to battle with:
grief, separation-anxiety, loss.
Looking back…
here am I, having moved on
cognizant that death is a reality
to face with courage
an inevitability to expect midst hope
since it is just a temporal goodbye
along “till we meet again” blissful reunion.
Today…
here am I striving to empathize earnestly
prayerfully sympathizing with the bereaved
testifying that death is a divine milestone
affirming this Scripture’s truth:*
“We are confident, I say, and willing rather
to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.”
*2Corinthians 5:8
April 5, 2023
9th place, "Death of a loved one" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker; judged on 4/5/2023.
Yes, he broke my heart, but not the usual way
With tender words, he made my poor heart sway
Each chamber beamed with his adoring smile
That chased the demons, made my life worth while
He broke my heart….
My heart was callous, filled with dirt and grime
Its walls all hardened by betrayal’s crime
And there he was a blazing ray of light
That came into my heart and made things right
He broke my heart…
He bathed each wall with sympathizing tears
And made me feel the joy of youthful years
He made of me of a woman, blooming fair
Oh how he glorified my raven hair
He broke my heart….
He broke down each defense that I set up
And gave parched lips a drink from lover’s cup
He loved my body, and adored my mind
And vowed my beauty was the rarest kind
He broke my heart….
He broke my heart, he broke my every care
He broke the chains that had me in despair
He broke my silence, and he made me sing
He broke my crutch and gave me angel wing
He broke my heart…
And in the breaking, love gushed out from me
In deluge of romance and constancy
Renewed, refreshed, revived from broken dreams
He broke my heart and bathed it in his streams
He broke my heart….
Eileen Manassian
The truth
in which
lies
are ever told,
how injustice
is
anything
but in bold.
How I wish
the watery
essence
from
a frying
pan,
could
stain my eyes,
How I dream,
there
was an undoing
of this child's first cries.
My mother's cradle,
only ever wished
in truth
to snap my neck,
like a wild man,
let loose to Geese
in numbers.
My back,
aches
in this slumber,
how I wish,
I could just
float like
the dust and
be absorbed
into non-existence.
My breath
was never here....
The hypocrisy
surrounding
cuddling of bears,
humanity spared
me affection.
Perhaps out of
devotion
so I would feel
even less
of a fish on a reel,
eye contact, I
can't let go off,
sympathizing
becoming...
clubbing of the seals
is our sad reality.
I refuse the peel,
to go further in depth.
I shake with anxiety at nights,
windows that do shake,
no hand, young or elderly
can comfort me here..
My eyes are darkened
when,
once they were beautiful green.
It was never my nature,
to be hateful,
I was the most loving child,
who grew survival
instincts
in how to be weary
in how beginnings
relate to the ends.
I should have died,
a long time before this....