Misbegotten Poems | Examples

Overcast

overcast

I like rain, not angry rain with an attitude
neglected by the mother cloud and take revenge
for its misbegotten infancy 
lashing those who sought peace and the promise
of forever, with ice blasts  
soft rain that feels like a caress, a day in June 
Drips from my blue umbrella feel like kisses from
a long-time lover

overcast

overcast

I like rain, not angry rain with an attitude
neglected by the mother cloud and take revenge
for its misbegotten infancy 
Lashing those who sought peace and the promise
of forever, with ice blasts  
soft rain that feels like a cares, a day in June 
Drips from my blue umbrella feel like kisses from
a long-time lover

Shadows speak oblivion

It speaks of loss and vermilion
It speaks of everything and eternity 
Shadows reek of dead things n burnt dreams
Shadows hide the faces of the world 
The truth from the light, the madness
In houses of civility, things of industry
In the deepest night, shadows linger, creep 
Shadows cover our misbegotten deeds
It speaks of loss n suffering 
All hidden things in plain sight 
Of oblivions needs, righteous creed 
Shadows speak; truth where lies flower
Shadows speak, righteous riddles 
Shadows reek of decay, lost power
It speaks of the past in vermilion hues
It speaks of everything, eternity n deities 
Shadows reek of dead things n burnt leaves
Shadows hide the faces of the world, sublime!

The Anointed One

Anointed by God to rule the land
Yet brags where he places his molesting hand
Let us love one another, all children of God
Yet puts proxies before a firing squad
The Lord he praised and the Bible he thumped
Yet adherents of the Word neither phased nor stumped
Turn to God when forgiveness you seek
Yet replies NO, never shall I be unmanly/meek
In the eyes of God, we are all alike
Yet the misbegotten can all take a hike
Obey my command and I’ll offer benevolence
As I give E pluribus unum a whole new relevance
God hath anointed His faithful avatar for you
Yet now go and do as I say, not as I do

NIGHTERRORS VI beyond the veils of sleep

A mask
Cracked but standing
Not fallen
Yet hollow
Eyes etched into the ruins
Trapped between what remains  
And what has been lost
 
Thoughts through the rift,  
A mouth, open yet voiceless
Whispers out of place  
Where the winds speak no name  
And stone withers memory

Interwoven 
Thorns crawl heavenward  
Meek n determined
Reaching to spires, un-obtained
Faded into ash  
  
Once a kingdom
It, without words
spire now shadow
Piercing what remains
Purpose forgotten
weight of eternity
Something misbegotten
Into fractured skin

Behind the mask, eyes stare
Fighting the stains
darkness lingers
Eyes, hollow they are,  
Beyond the ruin keep
Beyond the walls of time
Beyond the veils of sleep

Written in Wasted Pity

I pity the refugee’s road of flight,
  the children of the shanty and the gun
who on all humanity are a blight -
  who die or live unto be an orphan.
I pity the meagre, the forgotten 
  who a crisis of ravages endure,
whose fate is that of the misbegotten
  and whose need is now, real, grave, just, and raw!
I pity the terrorised, the wartorn,
  the sacked and conquered that bury their dead -
the child bride, the child slave still to be born
  and alas the lost soul already bred.
I pity the brave girl I used to know
and wonder dreadfully where did she go?


             Written: August 2006


*I wrote this many years ago about a little girl
  in Sierra Leone named Marie (pictured above)
  during the civil war who I used to sponsor. 
  She and her family had to flee their village 
  and I never heard from her again. That was in
  1997. Seems the one constant in this world is 
  conflict. Dedicated to all the Maries out there.

Forgotten Love

You said, "trust me, until death do us part",
But your plans were misbegotten. 
Do you think that I've forgotten? 

You said, "I'll always be your faithful love",
Yet I smell a fish gone rotten. 
You must think that I'd forgotten.  

You told me, "I will be forever true", 
But to some things I can't cotton. 
And you, dear, I have forgotten.

tight as a mouthful

the smithy was empty
and the tree near it had fallen
and no one had expected it
the sunken sun had made a stand
with desperate gaiety
swept through sleep
to break the night

The Autumn children
like caged birds
counted the crocus stalks
and for footfalls of a misbegotten
soothsayer

Echoes of Unrequited Night

Staring at the stars in the sky
Hollow heart,cast under the shadow of love
Forgotten, downtrodden
Castaway,the fate of the misbegotten
Cursed to wander the desert of the unloved
Thirst and hunger through the mist of eternal pain
Starved of amourity
The biting darkness,my old friend.

If I Can Be So Bold

Thinking of Thanksgiving Day
And its required feast
Makes me think it’s time to say
Which things I like the least.

For giving thanks for what we’ve got
Is kind of getting old,
Since there is much we hate a lot,
If I can be so bold.

Like a certain politician
Calling his opponents “vermin,”
Reminiscent of the disposition         
Of a certain German.

Or protests lately in the news
With hostages forgotten
And blame set only on the Jews,
In speeches misbegotten.

Or keeping guns but banning books
And spreading lies much faster
Than it can take to stop the crooks
From causing more disaster.

Or watching as our planet aches,
Despite each expert’s warning,
Repeating all those past mistakes,
Preparing us for mourning.

I could go on but I will not,
Yet gathered ‘round the table,
I’ll ban these thoughts and find a spot
For thanks, if I am able.

The Dark Side of Liberty

Dark denizens of the night
    gathering in ill-lit backrooms
      haunts of the night
 
  They tease each other with
    rouged cheeks, their mascara
      their pimply breasts, shaved legs

  Some are known for tantalizing
    tempting striptease, revealing
      hairy chests and knobby knees

  Their hardened faces greeting poor
    unsuspecting 'straights,' who, horrified
      run screaming off into the night  

  And now the Left has lumped these 
    misbegotten sickos of the night
      in with today's 'civil rights movement' 

  of transgenders, kweers, and worse
    too debauched to describe, to be
      celebrated in 'Drag Queen Shows'

  in our public libraries, where America introduces
    her precious youngsters into the fraudulent
      creepy cabals of Satanism, endorsed by 'leaders' gone mad

Kiss of Wisdom Blocked By God

I could prove a point thought misbegotten,
For long years packaged as Flatly Rotten,
I myself judged a spiritual loser;
Indeed, an Abhorrent option chooser!

But why, God had said so: "Esau I hate."
So, all his damned mistakes had flowed from Fate
"What's my birthright to me now that I'm dead?"
One, who just in the morning, had not fed!

"Right, agreed, you're Esau, then call Jacob"
Lion Jacob would have turned helpless cub!

Why hadn't Isaac Dad remembered this?
Lord God had that moment blocked Wisdom's kiss!

Fast Walking

Father was a fast walker;
hard to catch up.

I am not his own child -
a misbegotten slow one.

A lifetime later
I question just when he claimed
ownership?

If there is any answer
it must wait now
for two graves to catch up.

Visit To An Old Cemetery

As far as my eyes could see were old stones
Storied lives, some remembered, most forgotten,
Once were flesh and blood, now only dry bones.

I wondered how many of them were misbegotten
Their worth now easily assessed with a few zeroes,
Storied lives, some remembered, most forgotten.

No doubt some were rogues, some honored heroes
Whatever their fortune at death they now have not,
Their worth now easily assessed with a few zeroes.

Each with only one thing in common, a grassy plot
Sweet-smelling flowers placed with due respect,
Whatever their fortune at death, they now have not.

I came here timorously, not knowing what to expect
Would I somehow experience a new appreciation
Sweet-smelling flowers placed with due respect?

Walking among these stones with a rapt hesitation
[As far as my eyes could see were old stones]
Would I somehow experience a new appreciation?
Once were flesh and blood, now only dry bones. 

BRONZE MEDAL WINNER
Written June 30, 2022
"Anything You Wish No. 15" Poetry Contest
All Poetry
July 6, 2022

The Agony of Form

In so many words
Let the beast take form
Let verse arise out of chaos
Let the tides shift
In favour of harmony
Blessed are the meek
Tinged with sweat
They have wrought science from paganism
Blessed are the misbegotten
Holy art thou not?
Implored to act in favour of thy nature
So we children of this new age
What have we in the name of the sun wrought?
To avenge is to forget also what started the problem
I write for thee
Thee, thou and thus tamely all who will know
And those that shan't 
For thee all be
But one, differing in only virtue 
And science and the new age
All from before as one
Wring the favours from the hands of thy ministers
Sacred, wretched values
Decree what thou art know
In the face of the redeemer
I know little
Enough to be careful
Wanting scarce often to be recognised
Better to be understood
Than misunderstood
Better to hold captive
Than be captive

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