Misc Poems | Examples


Grave Robbing

Where has my smile run off to?

Oh, I don't pretend that it's gone entirely,
that it doesn't make any appearances.
But that's not the dilemma.

It doesn't stay for long,
doesn't have a home here anymore -
and that's what I mean to decry.

When you say that you've broken down
on the side of the road,
it's supposed to mean your car.

Not the wash of memories in the morning,
the pressure smacking you the moment you wake,
the toil of every godless-damned second.

Every day I want nothing more than rest;
but it flees from the sight of me,
cackling at the daily victory of its whim.

I want it back, all of it -
my smile, my sleep...
them.

When folks talk about grave robbers,
usually they mean some nefarious men
desecrating the dead, pilfering the perished.

In my case, the roles are reversed.
The six, the slain, those stolen from me,
while it's not their fault...

They are the thieves.
Categories: misc, death, death of a
Form: Free verse

Calendrical Casino

Ten.

Ten years, I've been scared,
fearing the phone's ring.

Twenty.

Twenty years, I was,
learning how goodbye really felt.

Thirty.

Thirty years, I reached,
forty-four days ago.

Forty.

Forty, my brother was,
for fifty-seven days.

That's all he got...
and that feels like all for me.

I'm terrified, I'll admit.
Every knock on the door,
every surprise text or call,
every "hey" I wasn't expecting.

Each corner hides a death,
each day a loss on the table,
Russian Roulette be damned.
The calendar is loaded - play.

So don't call me strong.
I'm petrified, and I'll face the grief,
as I always have,
but I won't face you.

I'm running, without shame,
from contact, from laughter,
from making me feel.
My response, proudly, is to hide.

So call me what you will -
save strong.
That just reminds me -
that I have received no choice.

Thirty-three percent.

A third of my life -
looking over my shoulder.
Which do I run out of first -
fortitude, or friends?

The calendar is loaded...
no choice but to play.
Categories: misc, death, grief, loss, memorial
Form: Free verse


Adamant

Bacon and sausage.
Dogs and music.
Whiskey and a wife's smile.

Sometimes, surely,
it is just that simple.

Lately it has not been.
Not in life, not in fiction,
not in poetry.

One year, maybe three poems.
All about grief.
One imagined, yet real -
a son's song for a father's tale.
Two, too true and too close -
a brother to the scion, a brother to the sire.

Tributes written, loss spoken,
still silent the muse,
on all besides -
stanzas only flowing
when so too the tears.

Yet, my life ended not with theirs;
neither will I let my story.
Not my life's, not my characters',
not my verses.

Songs and stories yet remain,
so too adventure and poetry.
Amidst vowing not to forget the fallen,
I forgot those things instead.

 that.

They will see my pen fly on,
for thoughts large and little,
momentous and mundane.
No peace comes from staying my hand.

So I will write, today,
of bacon and sausage.
Of dogs and music.
Of whiskey and a wife's smile.

Today, if no other,
it is just that simple.
Categories: misc, hope, moving on, pain,
Form: Free verse

Hush, Crooned the Night

Here I sit on this night so still,
not a rustle in the leaves
nor a stirring in the grass.

No whispers intrude; naught but mine.

Ill news after days spent ill,
unwelcome foreword to grief
inexorable more like than not.

No answers come; naught but malign.

A thirst I can never quell,
a gulp seeming to smash the silence
whilst whiskey spars with the fear.

No solace is on tap; naught but fake.

A call from inside breaks the spell,
an urging for sleep's cocoon
next to a lover's warmth.

No closure can I find; naught but striding on.
Categories: misc, death, family, grandmother, grief,
Form: Free verse

Rythm of Love

When I look into your eyes,  

a river flows through me  


The connection I feel with you, 

In English or in Spanish,  

there are no words to describe  


Even though we're both far away, 

you make every day a better day 

  
Your voice,   

resonates in my mind 

My heart,  

synchronizing in tune  

to the rhythm of love.  



~~ I wrote this for a guy I have been dating recently. (I'm 28, he's 30). Please be honest, would a 30-year old man enjoy this poem or is it too boring/basic, etc?
Categories: misc, crush, cute love, emotions,
Form: Free verse


Premium MemberMisc 72

Misc. 72

My Thoughts On Change

All that man can do to slow change
Is a mere inconvenience to God?
Though we may dig our heels in and resist it,
Change began with life itself.

Some change evolves from God,
While the remainder is man induced.
 
Within this, I see two types of change,
Meaningful change (should be embraced)
And change just for the sake of changing.
(This is where my heels dig ruts).

I use three criteria in my life for determining a need for change.
1) Is it necessary? 
(Genuine need or simply something that would be nice.)

2) Whose ego will benefit primarily from the results of this change?
 (Be unselfish; don’t act on my perceived need)

3) Can I afford its cost? 
(Are we neglecting some other need in order to instigate this change?)
[Something that might have a greater impact on God’s work?]
Categories: misc, change,
Form: Free verse

Premium MemberMisc 74

Misc. 74

Funny Thing
Thoughtfulness’ are remembered
long after the most lavish gifts have made their way to the landfill.
Tom

Second Nature
Being thankful
should be a thought-less job.
Tom

So Great A Faith
The trying of our faith is never greater
than the moment we accept Jesus Christ as our personal savior.
Tom 

K.E.W.
Knowledge prepares us by giving us insight,
Experience can only be obtained through hindsight,
Wisdom comes from God through foresight.
Tom

His Blood Has Never Dried
Whenever I think of God’s sacrifice,
my thoughts are encapsulated by the cross. 
God, finding no other who would suffice,
Gave us Jesus, without sin or dross.
Tom
Categories: misc, words,
Form: Free verse

In Bright Sun

A long hot ribbon of black asphalt
as the hot sun beats down upon it
it goes straight as a ruler across the land
with shimmering mirages upon it seen

a glittering form of clean lines
appears coming from far away
without a sound that can be heard
quickly it moves towards me here

a quiet murmur deep dark sound
growing quickly rumbling now
as silver car grows in my sight
hurtling quickly towards me now

sharp square lines of headlights and grill
flowing back raking into rising windshield
smooth hard lines flow unto its tail
planes and lines in glaring light

through the glass I can see
auburn curls and waves flowing long
smooth white skin forming curbs
rising from low-cut white

with thundering roar it flies by
passing wind flutters my clothes
scent of jasmine and roses fill the air
as it flashes going on pass me

going on down ribbon straight
shrinking dwindling fading from sight
roar does dwindle and fades away
as the car disappears from view
Categories: misc, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Hurt and Hope

The stars call upon my eyes
and in them I find choice.

They bid me gaze,
they bid me hearken,
and in their diary of days
I espy pages a mind to darken.

A friend taken from afar,
another lost from next door,
each one their own scar
on flesh keeping sorrow's score.

They bid me glance,
they bid me stare,
and in their distant dance
I glimpse a future fair.

A wife by my side,
a drink in our glasses,
on a porch my hands supplied
as a sprightly storm passes.

Do I stumble when the shadows come
and stay down, picking at those scars?

Or do I dream of joy yet unknown
and stand, walking toward that porch?

The stars call upon my choice
and in that I find my eyes.
Categories: misc, dream, grief, hope, loss,
Form: Rhyme

Lazy Day

To some people it's just a day
A regular, ordinary day like any other
But to the many out there with a day off
No matter what day or time it was
They proclaim a day to do nothing.

Sitting on the bed
Reading a fine book
Especially when you got
A whole pile of manga
To read throughout the day.

A library of games
To choose from to play
On your Playstation 4
Or X-Box One depending on the system.

Binge watching a series
Having a movie-a-thon
On good ole Netflix
Just don't get too absorbed
For if you lose track of time
It'll be the next day at noon.

Napping on the couch or a bed
Cuddled with your favorite plush
Curled under a cozy blanket
As you have sweet dreams.

When we feel there's nothing to do
When we feel like unwinding after a busy week
When we feel like doing nothing at all
Just kick back and relax
Give yourself a personal lazy day
We all deserve one once in awhile.
Categories: misc, life, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Our Souls At Night

Tonight you step outside.

Out where the fireflies alight
on unseen eddies of air;
out to where the stars lend their light
and a breeze caresses your hair.

You sit on the step and you wonder
how a time so dark ever seems so bright;
you drift in reverie and you ponder
just where our souls go at night.

Not while your dreams take flight
behind eyes closed and blankets warm;
but while your sleep loses the fight
to the muse's ceaseless storm.

Where do our spirits flee to
when the sun is long out of sight;
why does rumination find its cue
after most have said goodnight?

Why does this hour make thoughts unite
and scrutiny of life reach full speed;
why is it so much easier to feel and write
when the moon from its daily chains is freed?
Categories: misc, introspection, muse, night,
Form: Rhyme

Misc'

RUN 
fly away 

FUN 
laugh & play 

PUN 
joke of the day 

BUN 
lays on a tray 

SUN 
soak in today 



Copyright McCuen 2009
Categories: misc, life
Form: Verse
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