Long Unintentionally Poems
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Locked Up, A Conversation
Wife: “We got to talk." Husband: “What do you mean?” Wife: “It seems we can go on and on, never talking.”
Husband: “Talking?” Wife: “I mean about us, about our relationship." Husband: “You know I’m not very talkative and don’t have the need to talk much, but I listen to you when you speak.”
Wife: “Yes, but I sometime start talking about ‘us’ and you just go silent and claim that I’m attacking you. I expect you to respond in words and action convincing me that you care. I’m sorry if you think I’m attacking or blaming you. I’m just trying to tell you how I feel.”
Husband: “But I’m not sure what I can do about the things you relate to me. I know that I do not open up about my true feelings except when you upset me. There is no doubt that my communication skills fall short when it comes to expressing my feelings or ‘heart issues’. I’m sorry that I react in anger and unintentionally hurt you. I have sincerely thought at times that you are expecting more from me than I am capable of giving. It seems I try but never seem to succeed”.
Wife: "I’m not saying that you are bad, abusive, or unkind. I’m not saying that you do not respect or love me. It’s just that I need more from you". Husband: "I know that you deserve more and better. When it comes to our relationship, I think that there is something ‘locked up’ inside of me. I don’t know how to ‘be released’ where I can ‘speak to your heart’.”
Wife: “I hear you honey, and I agree about ‘the lock-up’. We have talked about counseling but never followed through. Occasionally, things get better only to return to the same results.”
Husband: “I know honey. Many of the problem areas were not even detected when we were raising the kids. After they grew up, we began to pay more attention to ‘us’.
Wife: “I think you are right."
Husband: “O honey, it’s getting late. We have to get ready for our class at church tonight”. 09032016 PS Contest, Mid-Summer Premier Brian Strain
I never possessed time.
Time that I would call my own.
You see, amidst a broken heart.
I had heard a friend cry.
She said her own heart had been broken.
So I listened, counselled and wiped away her tears.
There was no time to sit and feel sorry for myself.
With a broken thumb.
A pounding headache.
A hard day at work.
I wanted a hot bath and cup of coffee.
To lay me down, I took a couple of pain killers.
But you see, amidst fatigue.
I had heard a cousin sob.
She said she had lost her job.
So I listened, counselled and wiped away her tears.
There was no time to sit and nurse my tiredness.
With a heavy heart upon seeing an accident.
A horrid image in my head that I had to let out.
I went looking for my best friend.
But I had heard her cry.
She said she was not happy in her life.
So I listened, embraced and wiped away tears.
There was no time to share and offload.
With yet another broken heart.
I had told myself to cry and shut it down for once.
I had planned to watch sad movies.
With a box of Kleenex by my side.
But you see, amidst another heart break.
I had heard a sibling cry.
She said she had hurt a person unintentionally.
So I listened, counselled and wiped away her tears.
There was no time to cry and weigh down my feelings.
With a torchlight.
I had decided to do my favorite thing.
On a warm summer evening.
Walk about the park and listen to the night.
Amidst my time of reflection, I had heard a close kin cry.
She said, her husband had cheated and had another child.
So I listened, embraced and wiped away tears
There was no time for me to reflect.
I never possess time.
I don’t think I will ever possess time to myself.
But you see, that’s okay.
I have made my peace with it.
So I guess that’s what someone meant when they told me:
“Straighten up soldier, There is never time to cry”
© Herzel Poshiwa
None of these emotions would be raging
with fiery eyes and a very fast heartbeat...
to unveil this secret that's never been discovered;
leading a limited life of pleasures and thrills
had a profound effect on me; I felt weird,
not belonging in their happy and frantic world,
not rebuked by guilt, but reproved for undone wrong:
purity is grace guided by love and unless it reaps
an abundance of deserved joy, it's not priced by others!
Glamor never incited my fantasies and thought
of being altruistic, riches are amassed to show pride
and by the time your coffin is lowered in your grave...
someone is smiling for the inheritance you left;
did anyone toss that rose and started to weep and grieve
foreseeing gloominess and endless, torpid days...
missing evenings playing spades and drinking beers,
not realizing that midnight stroke time too fast,
detracting hours from gamblers' lives who were not
aware of their passing and of the irony they brought!
None of these emotions would be raging
if taking away their foolish reasoning;
whoever is inflamed by an intentional remark
has understood that he must show the teeth of a shark!
Absolute truth is pulled out of foul mouths
when they spit it out unintentionally,
they blush and take a step back reproving themselves:
ah, foolishness is madness when mindfulness thrives!
Look out for the shameless preachers
who knock on doors and ask for an alliance to their cause,
reading Bible verses to win your credibility!
Line of inquiry:
“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as she viewed
scent of love did not exude”
~ Unseeking Seeker
******************
Are we perceived as hostile beings
by flora that we tend in our gardens?
If we intimidate petals of peonies
each time we walk past their stems,
we should make amends and ask for pardon.
Is the pink tint of their blush mistrust of us?
Withering zinnias and wilting wisteria!
We wouldn't want to burden them with fear
when we speak of how lovely they'd look
in a crystal vase, set upon our parlor mantle.
To ease their worry and not cause their tears,
in our pockets, we don't carry pruning shears.
We personify flowers as if they have feelings—
but do our innuendos have that effect on people?
We label shy ones as loners or 'wall flowers'
who pull back, often going unnoticed for hours.
Do some of us unintentionally cause that reaction?
If this proves true, we need to take a moment
to have in depth contemplative consciousness,
a change in our stance and make an atonement
if it's determined we're at fault— guilty.
If so, our aura indeed has need of correction.
One that shows us emanating a kinder reflection.
The one who wilted as we passed by—
was she the shrinking Violet we refused to see?
Would we bring her heart joy if we paused
and spoke to her with a gentle greeting?
Words that would give the fragile one cause
to not think of us as hostile and vile?
If a kind word is spoken with a sincere smile
wouldn't those greetings be worthwhile?
It's plausible that we'd then have a pleasant scent,
the treacly aroma of consideration and love.
Time taken to say, 'hello' would've been well spent.
Hold out a hand as a metaphorical invitation to dance.
It might give a wallflower the confidence and the chance
to stand tall and no longer cringe at being approached.
If we've been at fault for diminishing the smile in souls,
offer them emotional strength. Be someone who consoles.
Summer to fall,
No other transition
Is quite so compelling,
So thrilling,
So enchanting,
The sunlight shines golden
In the late afternoon,
Illuminating the leaves of trees,
Some of which reveal gentle hues
Of red, orange, and yellow,
The sun spreads its warmth
Like an infant being swaddled in a blanket,
And it causes one to doze off,
Daydreaming of yesteryears,
What about those years?
Ones of youth,
Ones of innocence,
Ones of naivety,
It’s a bit like the trees,
The way one enters the world
Small, frail and vulnerable,
Only to grow and change
As time elapses,
Quicker than memory will allow,
A sudden tingling stops the mind
And halts one’s dwelling on the past,
What is tingling on my arm?
And when one looks down,
They see the winged creature
Crawling on the forearm,
Unintentionally tickling the arm hairs,
Oh, it’s just a lanternfly,
And now, it is here
That a new sensation arises,
As one observes the insect
With its patterned wings,
Displaying vibrant yellows and pinks,
With an overlay of dark spots,
Like a photo negative print
Of a night sky full of stars,
The sensation is suddenly alleviated
As the insect flies away,
But not without leaving
An impression on one’s mind,
One about small things,
Beautiful, fleeting things,
Which might just make
The passing of time,
Or the passing of life,
That much sweeter.
I hate that I can write this
Because it means on one level or another
One of us failed the other
Or perhaps we failed ourselves
Did I ever know I'd be your tragic hero?
It's hard to predict when digging oneself out of mud takes precedence
Exhuming myself from my then-current title
And plot points that led me to be buried
It's astounding how a porcupine can truly live
Where the two stand at quill's length
Cautious yet enamored
Wincing as small wounds get deeper
It's further astounding that I parade myself as God
And that I've convinced myself so thoroughly of the lie
That even when hiding the simplest thought as deep as possible
You still managed to cling to the belief
Follow the god that failed you
Or is it you who has failed God?
Has any slight actually been committed
Or are we both so hopelessly tangled in our own stories?
Did I ever know you'd be my tragic hero?
Equal parts pity, equal parts fear
And I let my sun shine bright
With the basic facts of what you are
To fetishize the basic tenants of human courtesy
Did I unintentionally put you on a pedestal?
But I know you've always subscribed to the same flavor of fear
With its ever more generous delivery dates
Perhaps I'm the one being infantilized
How strong are your convictions that you're so convinced you could kill me?
Through daring to show emotion when I beg you to be flamboyant with it
Exactly how hard are you worried you'll hit me?
Thus in the end, we are tragic heroes
You mistake silence for a child's crib
A permanent safe spot for me
To sleep when you're afraid to open up
So here I am, again a tragic hero
Is my mistake thinking that love is for me?
When simply existing is enough
To turn the brightest dawn into dusk.
27/7/2024.
Close to the 45th anniversary.
Still no idea where to go.
Should I leave it to fate?
The more I know you,
The bigger the gaps in every aspect.
Just like every body,
You could not keep your promises.
Well, I hate surprises,
What you did was as predicted.
In a way, it was OK,
But, somehow, I did not like any bit of it.
There were many reasons people do not want gift,
What were your excuses?
You hurt me unintentionally, but deeply, and carelessly.
I was hurt by your ignorance and inconsideration.
Were selfish, mean and cruel just to get back at me?
Were you consistent and full of confusion?
Not quite hypocrite, but close enough to it.
Knowing I have so much to share,
You did not even show you care.
Purgative debacle debilitated me December 18th, 2020
Hoop fully adequately explains
source of odoriferous dry rot,
ye possibly smell, I jot
within this reasonable rhyme
without putting Johnny on the spot
my absence NOT attending fellowship,
today December 20th, 2020
albeit remotely, cuz off to bathroom
I frequently needed to trot.
Athwart porcelain goddess
at aforementioned date
bare with me rear potty talk,
I profusely apologize
concerning offal topic
wasting proctology boilerplate
nevertheless, quite a disaster
concerning mine excretory freight
said irritable bowel syndrome
necessitated I hydrate
and fast, thus yours truly
spent no time to judicate
nor analyze why rectum
severely overactive of late,
but aside from
lower gastrointestinal discomfort,
I also experienced linkedin symptom
namely upset stomach felt nauseate.
The power of mind over matter
slowly emerged inside anguished pate
physical unwellness across entire body electric
essentially, laterally, and unstintingly did radiate
and sucker punch ground zero i.e. solar plexus
fall out on par with mushroom cloud trait
unleashed courtesy nuclear warhead
without a shadow of doubt ability to function
even on primal level unwellness did vitiate.
Impossible mission to implicate
predilection to experience panic attack
whereby mine entire psyche did crack
blowing major fuses analogous to ENIAC.
In 1942, physicist John Mauchly proposed
an all-electronic calculating machine.
The result was ENIAC
(Electronic Numerical Integrator And Computer),
built between 1943 and 1945—the
first large-scale computer to run
at electronic speed without being slowed
by any mechanical parts.
Yours truly entertained no mood
to jump figurative gun
taking no time to think and brood
and shoot from the hip
(perhaps while partially nude)
(regarding sharing his antithetical thoughts
within break out groups)
virtual bodyguards escorting out this dude
possibly unintentionally antagonizing
listeners buzzfeeding misinterpreting
weaponizing commentaries assembled crude
easily mistaken for flak, I sincerely eschewed.
The bricks used to build a wall were generational vices
intentionally or unintentionally you're here to destroy it
bricks of shame, guilt, humiliation, addiction, fear,
doubt, self-hate, abandonment, and outcast are due
to repetitive cycles called generational curses
healing and forgiving self for a lot of ignorance inherited
let every painful circumstance give you strength to pulverize
the wall built to keep you mentally, emotionally and spiritually
oppressed from yourself to create what you deserve and desire
believe it or not, you are not A or THE sacrificial lamb
you are the leader, curse breaker that leads by example
clearing away the wall of self deception and illusions
no hopping, climbing, or going around the wall allowed
blasting the wall into dust inspire the future generations
clear paths for creating their own legacy without self sacrifice
understanding fighting without violence, never give up,
self acceptance, trust ones' own intuition, and speak up
your courage, dignity, integrity, strength, bravery, peace,
self-love, and compassion are all in one tools; resilience
you can imagine, create, build and lead unapologetically.
Crow's claws carrion campy carping
nsync nocturnal teenage mutant ninja turtles
analogous to scuttling
(think) browed beastie boys scarab beetle
brandishing sharp small scabbard swords
delightedly digging daggers deep
into deadened prey
rotting roadkill repulsively reeking
formerly (mere moments ago) once
fancy free and footloose
happy go lucky creatures
perhaps instinctively squirreling away
scarce winter rations
animals oblivious to danger
(i.e. despite matter of fact
courteous attentive driver)
former obviously caught within headlights
(high beams blinding) crosshairs
deerly beloved critters
natural longevity instantaneously doomed
unsightly splayed internal guts
displeasure welling up
against... me long time
licensed vehicular operator
(within keystone state – Pennsylvania)
loathes unintentionally destroying
moosed abominable creature
self anointed ingenious species/
genus *****sapiens
debonair bipedal hominid
eradicates, euthanizes, and extinguishes
innocent kickstarting life within blink
ousted arbitrary dint of virtue
smug simian ruler of realm
sowing seeds of her/his destruction,
not necessarily strictly,
cuz she/he unable to brake,
nor swerve away within timely fashion,
but brainstorm gifted
harnessing collective intelligence concoct
weapons of mass destruction
in lockstep with environmental exploitation
dangle the very survival
various and sundry (extensive) precious
living things unbeknownst to them
will soon become extinct
rendering highly radioactive
oblate spheroid leaving not mushroom
except opportunistic trumpeting
donning guise of: parasitic braconidae wasp,
fruit flies, cockroaches and et alia yon
mummichog, scorpions, and Escherichia coli
for jump starting Earth biota.