Long Unpretentious Poems

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Myths and Monsters

I don't ask anyone for much
no more than I'm willing to give myself
I learned to temper my expectations a long time ago
the consequence of constant disappointment
disillusioned down to the deepest depths of my soul
after all I’ve been told that has proven untrue 
people pretending to think and feel differently than they do
their mask melting away to reveal their real visage
brandishing blades they thrust into my back 
gutted as by a Samurai committing Seppuku
run through by swords of insincerity
my screams rendered silent
I bear the blame and shame they refuse to claim 
upon my own broad shoulders
my snaky spine bowing under the weight like Quasimodo
A simple salutation would be a start to heal my harrowed heart 
some sort of abstract acknowledgement 
assurance that I’m more than a collection of cells
consuming resources with no productive purpose
that my words aren’t wasted on this apathetic world
where it seems everyone strives only to feed their own ego
How can one catch another’s attention 
without coming across as crazy?
I’ve never seen the inside of a prison or a psychiatric facility 
aside from a couple that had been converted into museums 
A weary woman embarking on an expedition
searching for any shred of evidence of the elusive "nice guy'
unpretentious people who aren’t afraid to prove they care 
others attest are out there, not merely mythical creatures 
but then some say the same about Bigfoot
Maybe the existence of an eight foot ape is more believable


Premium Member Fall Down On Your Knees

Fall down on knees so humble
Reverent of this awesome God
Who gave us sun and moon
Along with the shimmering stars

Fall down on knees so meek
Willing to give Him full adoration
For all that He is – love and hope
Peace that surpasses our grasp
Of what is meant by this peace
Peace that breathes tenderness

Fall down on knees so meek
Unpretentious and filled with faith
A knowing that God is so good
He brings joy, hope and love 
From His home on high, where
We will go when we die – as long
As we believe in His Son, Jesus Christ

Fall down on knees so dutiful
With prayers from hearts who know
That God above is the answer to us
Bringing love that is without conditions
Love that is alive, dancing like fire
Bringing out the good in our souls

Fall down on knees so considerate
Whispering of yearnings, needs, beliefs
That color the heart in hues of light
Soft colors so brilliant they remind
His love is like a vibrant insight
Into the heart who knows His mercy

Fall down and say a sincere prayer
Sigh with the comfort of knowing
He has come to us bringing true love
And the answer to our hope for a Savior
A King who would bring complete redemption
Jesus, the answer who will deliver us!

Fall down on knees of sincere worship
Know that God is love and Love is God
Listen to the wisdom of His gentle kiss
Blessing our lives with inspiration, a gift
Of knowing the Savior is the solution
To a sin debt that left us in the dark
Where even the sun couldn’t send it’s light

Yet, Jesus shined a hope stronger than the sun
He gave us the salvation to bring us home
Eternally, with love that fills us to overflowing
A love that is warm, wild and welcoming
Love that brings us out of the darkness
With assurance that He is the spark of grace!

Jesus is my everything! – Just have faith

Premium Member Main Street

Hagerstown, Indiana

I strolled my hometown Main Street today (about a quarter mile).
Many happy memories flooded my soul, causing me to smile.
A friendly bench beckoned me and I sat awhile to ponder,
The past I left so long ago for vast horizons out yonder!

The building where Doc Mays' drug store was still stands,
Where my sweetie and I sipped sodas and held each other's hands.
The Cartmell Hardware Store sat catty-cornered across the street,
Catering a variety of gadgets to make our lives more complete!

Ah! The aromas emitted from Seeb's Bakery down the street!
Those savory pies, cookies and cakes - what a special treat!
I recall Harry the barber and his razzing as I sat in his chair.
I reeked of bay rum and the Vitalis that he slathered in my hair!

The bowling alley no longer exists - setting pins was my first job.
If the bowlers liked my work, a quarter tip to me they'd lob!
Gone is the L.B. Owens grocery store where as a lad I worked.
He was a demanding boss, admonishing me if my tasks I shirked!

I left my hometown when I was a young and unpretentious lad.
There were just too many distant vistas and adventures to be had.
But o'er the years I return there every chance that I can get.
I left many fond memories there that I just cannot forget!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Few Pages

on a sultry day when there was nothing else to accomplish,
roaming around listlessly in my parents' house, stumbled at a little diary from my teenage years!
with a pretty picture of a rose bouquet on the cover!


my best friend, I thought I couldn't live without, but disappeared later in my life, got the diary for me -
located it among her father's office-materials, 
and determined - it was a nice present for a book-worm girl whose only passion was papers!
although she was so thoughtful, it was a really tiny diary, I thought - not enough space to cover all my gripping thoughts!
my head was bursting with ideas - from appeasing my over-scrupulous math teacher’s tantrums, to secret plans of rendezvous with friends,
and mostly about the boys around us, some of whom were a bit silly,
but paid a lot of attention to me!

question was - who did I like? they seemed unpretentious, were they really?
was not sure myself. one day decided on one,
and he biked away at an accelerated speed at my sight!
was I not pretty? was I not charming?
was I bossy to frighten them? was my voice not alluring?
at last I did decide not to bother about them too much!
but get on with my literary life!

the diary was my precious friend, as close as a friend could be,
I confided, poured my soul, everything in her - from my deep-down secrets, little happinesses, my innocent pleasures,
to the intense sadnesses I felt sometimes.
it was not the passionate diary of a brave young girl hiding in the secret basement of a building,
hiding from the cruelest regime in the world,
it was candid expressions of a sensitive, shy, demure, emotional teenager,
the only outlet of her true feelings about the intriguing world.

how much I admired the pretty dresses my friends wore, and wished I had a few!
how much I admired spending time in our patio at the magnificent dawn when nobody was up, to see what I was up to,
how much I wished I were an author, and wrote novels like Jane Austen.
how much I wished I lived in Shakespeare's time, and be one of his maidens -
Miranda, and Opehelia, and Juliet, and Rosalind -
who emerged in my wildest dreams when I was in a dreamland!
the dreams which I wished, would never end,
but for sure they ended eventually!


A Diary - a few pages bound together - was me!
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Real Mccoy

He's a man of an unforgetting mind. He's a gentleman, caring, and kind.                                                                                                                           He doesn't rush but takes his time. Oh, did I mention he is a friend of mine?                                                            He's a man of truth, unpretentious to the bone. He looks you in the eye,                                                              making you feel at home. His heart's door remains open no matter how far                                                   you've roamed,  and in no time at all, he'll make you feel like you really belong.                                                   

Did I mention that he has a photostatic memory? He never forgets but seals you in his own book of history. Twenty-five years ago, I met this giant of a man, and it did not take long for me to become a fan.

Like a surfer beaten by the waves, I was driven to shore by a very high tide.                                                          I was like a hitch-hiker running tired and looking for someplace to hide.                                                                  With compassion in his eyes, he pulled over close to my side.                                                                                   He came along just in time, said hello, and gave me a ride.

Did I mention that he greeted my young son and called him Governor?                                                                   Why I tell you no lie, he is the Real McCoy like no other.

04132018FBPSContest,New Poems Only2 About Friendship, Emile Pinet                                                                                                                                                                     Inspired by A friend, LB


Premium Member Servant's Progress

The Servant’s Progress
In the hallowed halls of the Lord’s sanctuary,
The believer stands, a beacon in the race, 
A transparent vessel, a gentle candle lit,
Serving others through the of selfless acts
Of strength and grace

This journey is not marked,
Not laden with grand accolades,
But by quiet acts, in humble parades,
Grace and gratitude-
Like doves taking flight
Within the hearts of those touched 
By their gentle light

Their days become a tapestry, 
Unseen, unsung, yet woven with care,
Offering solace where sorrow and illness cling,
To broke hearts, their wings provide
A refuge where troubled souls 
And restless spirit confide

Each act, though small, a lion’s roar,
In the kingdom of the Good Shepherd, filled in,
True service springs from selfless springs,
Where the needs of others, the songbird
sings

Each acts, though small, becomes a lion’s roar
Within the kingdom of the Good Shepherd;
For true service springs from selfless springs,
Where the needs of others
Become the song that the songbird sings

The servant’s progress is chronicled not 
In the pages of earthly ledgers,
But in quiet prose,
Where love grows within the hearts of many-
A symphony of grace, 
Where unpretentious sincerity
Is found

Premium Member Cosmic Dreams

Be it evidence consequence or coincidence
Every night as I succumb to somnolence

Heavenly smoke rings of frankincense
Rise upwards with sweet opulence

Dulcet dreams inevitably commence
Without fanfare hype or pretense

While sweet loving arms of providence
Wrap around me a shroud of benevolence

Under a scented canopy of impermanence
Ablaze with the aura of glowing confidence

Revealing universal secrets of magnificence
I humbly bow in unpretentious reverence

Adrift in solitude so many nights hence
I reminisce of nostalgia in the past tense



AP: 2nd place 2020

Submitted on June 6, 2019 for contest YOUR CHOICE (3) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  HONORABLE MENTION
Form: Monorhyme

The Truthful Martyr

O loving God, please ease
the acute pain and unutterable anger
they are afflicting upon this truthful martyr,
who is aware of their meanness
while he shows his unpretentious kindness;
o righteous lord, what's the reward of the giver?

I came to the help of defenseless
little hearts that were unjustly
snapped from their mother's arms;
I spoke with them warmly and gently,
and dedicated my precious time to their cause
because their pure and unrestrained love touched me.

Merciful God, my confider, let my sacrifices
win me the awaited victory I and others are after;
liars and  unkind people still mumble wicked words,
and dislike me for my persistence of a martyr.

O kind, patient, and generous Lord,
I realize the burden of of my anxieties
upon your Wisdom and mightiness;
now, my exasperation is restrained through wait;
but your comes when nobody expects it,
and my rejoycing is your promise waiting to be fulfilled.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Watermelon Dreams

Watermelon dreams
Weigh heavily on her
What happened to their garden?
What happened to their seed?

She was going to be someone rich and famous
Accomplished, learned.
Special, adored, revered.
Well loved by the masses.

Watermelon dreams.
Too heavy, became a burden
Seemed to be unattainable.
She became overwhelmed.

They alarmed her, unarmed her.
She felt stymied, confused, destroyed.
The stepping stones which used to seem plausible
Became burdensome.

Watermelon dreams.
She wishes she had replaced them long ago
With strawberry dreams,
Sweet, unpretentious, attainable dreams.

Succulent, fragrant, tasty dreams.
Maybe a husband, family
She saw herself with a cat and a pony.
Was it too late at seventy-two? She did not know.

Premium Member Gordon Bennett

Who the hell is Gordon Bennett
Some think there’s insanity
In the fact we call his name
As though it were profanity

Not so famous nowadays
As once he used to be
But still I call his name out
When a doorframe whacks my knee

I put my hammer to one side
To take a tiny break
And then cry Gordon Bennett
Where’s it gone for goodness sake

Did poor George Armstrong Custer
At the massing injun nations
Cry out Gordon Bennett
We’ve made underestimations

Or is our Mr Bennett
Just a UK kinda guy
Who’s name is shouted loud
As one more bus goes speeding by

Well, frankly I don’t care
That English language travels on 
Gordon Bennett is world famous
Back where I come from

This unknown hero all my life
My unpretentious tenet
Is by my side in times of strife
His name is Gordon Bennett
Form: Rhyme

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