Long Tiredly Poems
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Days passed and still we did not take him
I was angry at everyone and stayed near his side
But one day he had disappeared
My heart skipped a beat as I searched the whole house
Calling his name despondently
Finally I heard a faint meow…
I found him under the couch….
He was alive!!!
Pentecost, the great and faithful…
Laying down on his side…still breathing…
And with effort lifting his head to gaze at me..
Wondering if there was room for two..on the floor
His eyes opened and closed slowly
Staring back, I swallowed, never looking away
I crawled half way under the couch and prayed “Please… please… don’t leave us…”
I sobbed looking into his eyes
He was so sad seeing me cry, yet calm
And it seemed like he was meaning to say… “It’s okay, Laura… it’s okay…”
I got up quickly as if the world was ending and got the music box,
Came back down and played it for him I hummed feebly, hot tears coming down
His head lowered resting tiredly on the carpet
His paw reaching for me
He fell asleep soundly as he laid his paw in my hand
Soft, tranquil and cold
Gently I closed my hand around him
When I rushed home from school the next day
That is when my mom stopped me to say he was gone
He had taken refuge under the house
Alone, he had found peace,
In one of his favorite spots in the summer…
Pentecost was gone…
And the entire family grieved his absence
Even my dad when he heard said softly, “Poor little guy”…
When I turn on my music box I remember the happy year with Pentecost,
I will never forget the smiles and laughs
Damasked in his charms, his light remains
So young he died, but forever he will stay
As the music faithfully chimes “It’s okay Laura…it’s okay…”
~Dedicated to Pentecost, a faithful and furtive feline with a heart of gold~
I Always wonder, who's the girl in the mirror,
Who seems so calm and composed of herself
and showing no emotions or sentiments.
I usually see her staring at me
and replicating whatever I do.
She seems to have nothing of her own.
As if she has lost her everything in the deep sea of sins.
I see her in the morning, with messed up hair.
I see her at afternoon, with a clumsy face.
I see her tiredly yawn at night.
And, sometimes I see her cheerless, helpless smile.
I know she does, whatever I do.
I know she can't feel anything on her own.
But I feel pity for her. And that is why I decide
To be happy, to make her feel good.
contest finalised on- 7th April, 2016
poem written in december 2015
*Beasts of burden*
Then I couldn't grapple the hand
that held onto what I hinged upon
Never 'ld, instead I reached for its head
Mortal-minded, neither soldier nor lord
or rather, faux,feeble, too torn
Long I stood, living in graced faith
Nature denied me a knife or dagger
But a soldiering destiny waited for death
at hefty times when all didnt query, yet,
these souls ran Godly errands afar
In the morning we equally laid tiredly
Thought I was gone too long to return-
nooks 'n crannies, moonlit-sanity.
Me, death with feud on a bale of hay
discreetly left on a tomb for liason
Strongly gave out , solely a sacrifice
We passed!, Feute'de'mieux, to die
looked down as far as I could, just ice
under the haystack, I failed to age.
Death entertains beyond prying eyes
*(LANCELOT)*
Freely forming metrical mainstays
poetic occasion to phrase
the fairer and gentler sex,
thus the following turns of phrase
to bestow acknowledgement
regarding wonderful wise ways
of collective she who assays
to create safe/secure home/ hearth
as bedrock and fount of ample
maternal duties tiredly sashays
with keeping house receiving praise
the second Sunday each May, her
tired body sprawled on chaise
lounge, perhaps basking in solar rays
communing with Gaia, who whiz
bruiting with sky goddess
defying forecasters prediction, no slate grays
pose dampening effect on huzzahs
regaling torchbearer diploid as amaze
zing newlife, where loving labor pays
more than fine spun gold cherishing
offspring in her nurturing ways.
Paean dutiful daily deference, I dole
ensconced with pineapple getup
surfing the cyber sea, this hyperbowl
lee, yet deserved dignity deifying dames,
who bear brunt whole
ding potent biological reproductive role
de facto duty honorably decreed
tribute paid despite commercialized
money making hyped up rigamarole,
nonetheless yours truly accentuates sole
sans, progenitor of human race
saddled with disproportionate/ unfair toll.
I locked the door, I'm pretty sure I locked it.
But in the early morning it stood ajar.
Memory lane - I came, I smiled, I grasped the handle
and drew it shut and..turned the key...SURE I SHUT IT!
"Well..may be I never shut it at all."
The phone rang, I got up the bed
and groped around in the dark.
'Hello" - no one answered. I staggered to bed
and dropped to sleep.
In the morning, I checked the indicator - no number
there.
Memory lane - I was sleepy, it rang once, twice...
My eyes opened. I saw a chair.The chair was here...So?
"Oh...may be I had been dreaming. It's ok."
I handed my purchases at the counter.
The salesgirl smiled at me, she was waiting for
me to pay. My purse, where was my purse?
He said 'basket', just as I saw it in the empty basket.
I tended a large note to the salesgirl and
turned to say 'thanks' to him.
But there was no one.
Memory lane - I'm sure a man said 'Basket", the voice was
assertive and mature..
"Never mind...may be it was the salesgirl's voice!"
I clung standing in the bus, I gazed
tiredly out at the bus stop..many people were there.
The bus heavily drew forward, more people had come in.
I saw a glimpse of Dad standing down the road.
"Dad?" I gasped. Everyone looked at me suspiciously.
"Hey stop!". I pushed my way out.
People were muttering. I was running back down the road.
No one - certainly not Dad.
A car stopped screeching. My neighbour dropped me home.
Dad was watching TV.
"Where were you?" He looked at me perplexed.
"Watching a movie since an hour!"
Memory lane - I saw dad standing there drawing away
slowly as the bus moved.
"Its all right,.. may be I'm very tired!!!"
16/05/16
Featured on 5/06/16
The wealthy seek company with your ten-acre heart and half-acre mind.
Groupies swarm beneath your haloed window even on rainy nights.
Tapping tambourines and triangles to poultice out those nuggets of life.
You slowly walk away from the frame and tiredly kiss them goodnight.
You try to temper pace, but the takers ripped the sundial from you.
Swarming like locusts- toting manuscripts, a photo shoot or two.
Who knew babysitting the universe could be so damn exhausting.
Impossible to escape from the talons of a new-age paparazzi.
All that you loved and lived for has long ago withered and died.
You barricade yourself from the gaze of a billion jagged green eyes.
Another golden chessboard gifted to you from an aging king.
Yet another bribe to pry from your palm the secret of eternity.
It all became too much; you've become the world's origami freak.
Folding and unfolding to appease the whirling maelstrom of greed.
You realize (too late) that the elixir is no blessing but a cutting curse.
You've been committed to an asylum called the song of dead birds.
You're 6006 years old, playing endless chess with moonbeams and ghosts.
Dimming lights-drawing shades to drown out the mirror and the smoke.
You try explaining to Dr. Narcotic that you're not a goblin, God, nor prophet.
Just a blue-collar pawn who stumbled upon an elixir of misery and rot.
The first day we saw you, tiredly
So thin and full of woe
You sit there with curiosity
We said ''you are, our kitty''
Serenity, Serenity...O' how we love ye'
When we brought you home
You fell asleep on our comfy chair
Then you roamed, pranced, and danced
We watched and rewarded you treat after treat
Serenity, Serenity...O' how we love ye'
Electrifying, absorbing, in fresh innocent way
Night sashayed, when you were prancing
Fly, frolic, hop, jump 'til end of hour
Cat mind wandering, without delay
Serenity, Serenity...O' how we love ye'
O' love is filled with affection
Our heart wells up with cheer
Love for you is everlasting
Heart melts for you, our loving friend
Serenity, Serenity...O' how we love ye'
Lately, I've cut away hectares of tumors.
That engulfed confidence, happiness, self-worth, and well-being.
With surgery, a bit of the good stuff was sacrificed:
A few shallow laughs, some adventure, and mostly harmless mischief.
The mirror is filled with scars of the heart, excoriations of spirit.
Along with other, yet-to-be-discovered damage.
Though somewhat deformed, I like my new look.
I feel tiredly refreshed.
The scalpels are dull and quiet for now.
There's work to be done.
Some of the newly homeless tumors are mentoring new ones.
I'm no fool and fully aware that I'm also a tumor to others.
His tired smile felt genuinely warm
It's the daily norm since he was born
Life is an endless loop of closed doors
Searching for hope among endless pores
Born into seaside harbor
Felt the wave of endless labor
Shouldering pain and liability
Sailing for honest security
Touching the mild ocean breeze
Smiled tiredly along freezing sneeze
Homecoming after relentless work
Grabs and sighs at dinner fork
Looking upon paled door
Grabbles within open pores
Shut the lights hoping for relief
Dreaming upon hopeless beliefs
A continuous cycle day and night
A tired smile without light
It was a frozen morning as she shivered in her place, yawning.
A bland days early light tried its best to make earth brighter.
The engine of her ageing car hummed tiredly after a cold nights stillness and she
sympathised quietly.
The weathers icy film had fallen like a landslide before her eyes; she came to notice
the things around her.
Just a tiny distance away stood a blackbird and his friend, the robin. They
exchanged songs and gathered food, as together thay ate early morning worms.
It was at this time that she stood motionless and thought as herself being the
blackbird and her unborn child, the robin; united in company, doing things as mother
nature intends.
Yet they are seperate souls, but still a constant reminder of one another.
This, she cherishes as she watches them fly away.