Long Untrusting Poems
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Love of my mother's Scotland knows no bounds,
yet she, like me, was destined far to roam.
Her wistful music of the isles surrounds
my everyday, her voice so soft and low.
Sweet songs of love, and yet forever sad,
with veils of deepest melancholy clad.
A lonesome piper plays a slow lament,
or, boldly rousing, urges men to war.
From kith and kin they were so often sent,
their mist-clad hills and glens to see no more.
Or else to unknown futures overseas,
a greedy and uncaring laird to please.
Today, as Scottish hearts still strongly beat,
proudly as ever do they wave their nation's flag,
untrusting of the powers that would deplete
their unity, their centuries old resolve,
to be a sovereign nation once again,
"O Flower of Scotland" their heartfelt refrain.
Here it lies in a pool of non-consenting blood, barely beating and still in shock all the while being whispered to this was love
Man is usually the predator and the weaker of the two is the prey, but when it comes to hearts who is to say
Anyone can be vulnerable, anyone can pay the price, just by giving in to feeling when you’re tired of all that runs through your veins is ice
At first it isn’t forceful but at the same time it isn’t fair, the way that your heart trusts the other believing it has found its pair
But sometimes you’re not even looking for it and it will hit you like a brick, and drag you down into the depths of the underbelly and make you feel so sick
Infesting you with its needle that drips its sickly consistency, concocted of strychnine and evil enraptured in a seed of unwanted ecstasy
Sometimes you’re tricked into believing that you asked for it that you’re the culprit here, but raping someone’s heart isn’t right that statement should be crystal clear
You’re taken and consumed forcibly into an attack, a fight that you weren’t prepared for, and your heart is defiled and left for dead writhing in pieces on the cold hard floor
Your heart is now wanton, violated indescribably, destruction has made its home here and no peace resides within and never will there be
Your heart is spoiled, broken, bleeding, untrusting and wants to never love again, it looks like a battlefield where you can’t tell the reality from the casualties running through your head
Do you report this vile transaction, and if so, then to who? If you don’t then the wicked one will walk away who raped your heart and mangled it too
But if you do know their name, would it really be a crime, it’s their hearts word against yours and it happens all the time
That unpleasant naked feeling will never go away, you can wrap your heart up in pretty bandages, but a band aid won’t make it okay
Your heart will never trust again even if it wants to try, once your heart has been raped, you’re never the same, I should know because that is how I lost mine.
For the longest time, we were told
to FOLLOW our hearts and never fold.
If I might dare just this once to be so bold;
May God bless their dear souls.
But perhaps they were wrong.
There is a way to keep the heart strong.
Why not LEAD our hearts with a spirited song?
Like a quake-driven tsunami from the ocean sprung;
May we LEAD our hearts forcefully till our day is done.
Yes, I have eyes, but I do not see,
even when the roses beckon for me.
It's as if I am sleep-walking,
when not a soul is talking.
I have ears but do not hear.
even on midnights bright and clear.
It's like I am blaming it on aging.
Or is it the devil lurking and chasing?
I have feet in love with walking;
and I listen intently to them talking.
But they step in the wrong direction.
I don't even think about their protection.
It's not aging that's to blame but misbehaving.
I try to change, but sometimes it's really no use.
It's my foolish heart, always seeking to inflict abuse.
Trust me when I say, it never fails to be my foolish heart
that forces me to doubt the truth, to trust the untrusting,
and believe the unbelievable. May God help my foolish heart.
040122PSCtest, My Foolish Heart, L. Milton Hankins
using Tamerlane verse (Edgar Allen Poe)
As windows on this world get stuck;
disgust demands space on the lip.
Events I have not thought about
reveal hatred, make me upchuck
and fills untrusting minds with doubt.
Men’s base unkindness gets a grip
attacking vision with its whip.
When insult renders reason flat
without question, the end is that.
No hope - political affairs,
instead I offer frequent prayers
and leave off worry, spin and cares.
I probe God’s promise verse by verse
unearth a blessing sans a curse.
To find His voice removes the strain
and clears the fog off windowpane.
Man’s self-control declines with time
suspicion, vitriol are primed.
Determined thought will never still
discourtesy as major cause.
Respect needs willingness to chill
for biased minds feed scruple’s flaws.
January 9, 2020
Dear Heart's Contest: Take the Dagger Out
VOICES ECHO THROUGHOUT THE AREA
THE SOUNDS OF LOVERS PAST
FROM PERSON TO PERSON
SHE SPEAK OF THEIR NAMES
SMILES ABOUT THE MEN IN HER PAST
SHE SPEAKS OF HER INTERVENTIONS
WHERE SHE OFFERED ADVICE TO UNDERMINE
SHE SPEAKS OF BEING UNTRUSTING AS A FREIND
AND BEING UNLOYAL AND UNKIND
SHE WISHES TO BE HONORED AS A WHORE
THE SCUMMY KIND OF PERSON PEOPLE FEAR
SHE LOVES TO MAKE WOMEN ANGRY
THEIR LACK OF TRUST: REFUSES TO ALLOW HER NEAR
SHE STANDS IN WINDOWS SINGING
FOR ONLY IN GOD THAT THIS WOMAN TRUST
HER DEEDS ARE ALWAYS UNDERMINING
SHE SPEAKS OF DOING SUCH
YET THE AUTHER OF UILLUSTRATED PAINTINGS
WILL ONE DAY SKETCH MY FACE
THEY WILL SPEAK ME AS A SINNER
AND WORSHIP ME AS A SAINT
Firm are those the vines that entrap mine heart;
So valiant are those champions that do so impart;
On a voyage of truths that seek and speak so darkest light;
In seclusion running forth evading so the toothless vampire blight;
Normal human remains so distain visit unawares;
Demons and Dragons and vagabond soldiers stare:
Equating debating vibrant untrusting realities:
Yet instilled he gums his victim sucks blood from vein carnalities;
Death rest its allure on the hillsides and impart valley peak;
Vermillion is the blood color so brilliant as it spills and drills down her neck;
11/17/21 ©
• For ''V'' New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Freshman geek. Computer nerd.
Shy, sweet, not my type.
So why did his presence follow me like
A homeless, hungry puppy?
Unforgettable, undeniable, irresistible.
Just friends, but my heart already knew.
And the Matchmaker smiled.
Electricity in his touch.
Butterflies in my stomach.
The blush of new love spilled over our every move like technicolor.
Heady, intoxicating, fated.
The ring was the first stroke of our eternal masterpiece.
And the Artist smiled.
Contentment in his arms.
Security in his hands.
Playing house is a never-ending dance that he leads and I follow.
High lifts, low dips, dizzy spins.
The music swells, and he empowers me with the strength of his love.
And the Maestro smiled.
And from the super nova that is us
Exploded a third frenetic energy.
An atom of me and a molecule of him becomes the best of both our worlds.
Chubby, adorable, life-changing.
I know that two have not become three, but one.
And the Chemist smiled.
Heart growing like the Grinch's
Yearning to be filled.
Not from our seed, but a seedling from another.
Braids, dark skin, untrusting eyes
Transplanting a flower who has been neglected, whose petals have begun to wilt and drop.
And the Gardener smiled.
Days of parasailing through life,
Others being dragged behind the boat.
But never a regret choosing our crew for the journey.
Poor, rich, blessed.
Riding the waves of life on a board built for four.
And the Kahuna smiles still.
Here we go the words to shock yall.
The truth to which unaccepting youths are rebelling about, elders gave life away so young would have stock.
What they do for their country?
Picked a lie or God, general of descended Trinity
Sold generation x out for a future based on money.
All while underfunded schools and separatist trends sold on media wins.
Discredit our knowledge with highest divorce. Drop out and confinement rate which is falsely based.
The x marks the treasure spot
The extra large generation needed to evolve human crop
Of untrusting of the past children
Blind to anything that not taxed, hacked or bought.
The generation assured longer life
While we guaranteed to die fast
Due to information withheld from us.
So ideas of equality don't last.
We are the last of divine men
When generation x is dead
Then to live is evil and to have lived.
Is to be devil
Time for the truth in Socrates sand
To inspire the forgotten son
To protect the prophetic
And here their words of prideless one
Don't move together, move as one soul
Of divine cast outs and your truth of divinity ensures
Destruction of devils land.
Its beyond religion and gods hand
Deep down she was a hopeless romantic
Masked with hate because she thought she couldn't have it
After all she was a black woman
When she asked the world for love it laughed at her
It's why she gave up, a story so tragic
Growing up in a world where white was the beauty standard
And being black was considered unattractive
It's why she hated herself
Why she couldn't stand the mirror
Why she couldn't look in it
Her reflection was a vessel for the world's racism
Telling her love was for those who had pretty privilege
That love was for people who had a different lineage
Those who were white and had the perfect 'image'
The only 'love' she had know was fetisisation
That the only attention she would receive
Were from men who envisioned her naked
Ones who were cowards
Who couldn't look in her eyes
But would gladly stare at cleavage
It didn't help that being black and having a body
Meant that people automatically assumed
You were for everybody
But when she started getting compliments
From men who didn't have ulterior motives
She felt it was a joke and then they would tell their friends
That they had got with a black woman
She was untrusting
But what did they expect
When the world has taught black women that love was not made for them
But when she was wanted she felt confident
Especially when they asked her parents
To take her out
She loved old school gentlemen
After all those years of poor self image
And the times she would get in her own head
She decided She wouldn't self sabotage
And she would finally let love into her heart
He wished it to seem magic!
He wanted there love to be at best pleasant.
More than doing cures and having favor,
he wanted romance and love, she appeased him
because she loved him: but more than that she could see
through all of her own faults and shames and could understand what he wanted from her, and if she didn't know what he was doing, she'd ask.
To await performance
These collaboration between lovers
Guided by considerations
some which required those who
were involved to share interest.
love requires these proofs
beyond normal expectations
even beyond the expectations of lovers.
Thus she becomes an actress
to be rewarded for the consequences of her acts.
She wished to be awarded: that
some of her performances caused others to seek observances.
Prudent and reasonable not to gain unwanted attention.
Which fact's might be disputed.
and than seen as ways of an untrusting woman.
Neither lesser than: or overly done. She said to a friend, that she loved him, and described who she wished to be with him. She spoke of loving him as a woman, and loving him as his wife and being mother to their children.
Might love enrich me that we are together, might he gain from this togetherness the love of a woman.