lFair orphan of the sky,
Yet another love meant for goodbye,
What light do you shine with,
Is it true what they say-
Burglar of men’s hearts?
To what God must I pray,
For relief from this ailment, say?
You might never return my heart,
And keep it yours to use-
But ‘tis not a crime, is it?
Hours fly by as I muse,
With speech, love I confuse,
Not more than a smile escaped,
And you smiled but I read,
All that you would never have wanted
My psyche, rife with dread,
In you, my soul what bliss it read,
Bliss of hope, bliss of love,
While you laughed as you looked at the sky,
And let me live my perpetual lie.
See the Orphan smile!
A storm that teaches peace blooms
on black forgiveness.
A child's shoe lies interred
With cold, steely resentment.
Winner: Third Place, The Beautiful Impossible, Sotto Poet (Sponsor) 9/02/26
The psychic tattoo
of paternity
darker than
fate’s blackest ink
The guilted knife
of maternity
cutting you
near to the brink
A prodigy alone
in the shadows
offspring of
scorn and disdain
Begging for love
and acceptance
from parents
— called heartache and pain
(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)
Without our dreams
we sit naked and alone
Imprisoned by doldrums
adrift from our home
In fits of depression
we unstep the mast
Awaiting the storm
— of futures long past
(The New Room: August, 2024)
mother has been gone less than a day
her favorite time of day was daybreak, I think
I walk outside into the sun, but do not feel any better
there is something horrible about not having your mother
I did not realize it before
because I was never an orphan
but now I am
I sit on a bench feeling despair
I am all alone now
no one likes me the way she did
I cannot be cheered up
Sadness overwhelms me, my heart is breaking
It is horrible being an orphan
Until yesterday
I never
knew….
He carries a wound that festers with smell,
He fears within it, bad germs might dwell.
Since losing his folks, he’s lost everything;
Each morning, he wonders what life will bring.
Each coin that he grasps, he holds with great care,
For hunger and pain both watch him in fear.
He eats little and soothes his pain with balm,
His survival depends on what's in his palm.
His parents are gone, yet grief roams each day;
He lives through the nights with no place to stay.
Yet kindness seems to have gone on a trip,
Leaving only alms within his firm grip.
Just twelve, yet his dreams have dissolved into dust,
His pockets stay bare, life’s balance unjust.
Despair fills his soul, ignoring his prayers,
Alms can't dry up all his endless tears.
How soon will death call to take him away?
Compassion stands cold, anguish paves his way.
He searches for help, but none can be found,
Somehow, death's fear races all around.
Different worlds
Different times
Growing up
In our minds
Neither here nor there
Ambivalence reigned
Father ruled
Mother gained
No holding
No cuddling
Sin running
Reason befuddling
Sickness and disease
Chaos ordered in line
Six days left
To leave it all behind
What's ahead
More of the unknown
Just a basket of fruit
Showing how creation has grown
Written by Trudy Schrader on 01-27-2024
She sits alone
Shunned by those that rhyme
With sublime
Ridiculed by the raucous
And bellicose
For of all the words
It is said
She is the only one
That doesn’t rhyme
With anything.
She has ceased defending
Her presence
In the molten shades
Of breaking dawns
Her streaming brush stroked
Sunsets
She often sits alone
Amid the seasonal splendor
Of a New England Autumn
Shuffling through the rustling
Shades and shadows of her self.
She knows who she is
And that she does rhyme
For to rhyme
Is to blend easily
Seamlessly take center stage
Without seeking applause.
She seeks no curtain call
Only the crest of sunrise
Act one, Scene one
A young man murders his mother and father 'for fun'
throws himself on the court's mercy, 'cos he's an 'orphan'
The young man is Hamas, his mother and father, Palestinians and Jews
the West is the court, on whose jury sit fools
Four children had to tell mama and papa goodbye.
It was World War I. Would they ever see them again?
No one spoke of this, not wanting to alarm the little ones.
Janice was told to take care of her siblings if possible.
It was impossible. They were separated along the way
Brigid age three was chosen at their first stop.
The rest of the family stared at scenery rapidly passing by.
Wondering if the bombs in London had killed their parents.
I'm just an orphan.
A transplant to this state.
Basking in the sun light, sitting by a lake.
There's people all around me but I know not one.
It's active here now that bass season has begun..
I'm only one orphan on this bright spring day,
captive to melodic birds as they chirp away..
I'm only one orphan befriended by an oak.
It's sturdy branches shield me with their shady cloak.
I'm just an old orphan but nature knows my name.
She calms and she comforts as she brings me peace again.
In somber twilight's quiet embrace,
An orphaned child with tear-streaked face,
Gazed upon a golden fruit,
A symbol of solace, grief to mute.
The fruit hung high, a treasure divine,
A mother's love, that once did shine,
A beacon bright of memories dear,
Its glow bespoke of love sincere.
Alas, no arms to hold, to guide,
A void where once a heart resided,
In wistful dreams, the child would roam,
To find the warmth of love and home.
The golden fruit, a spectral sigh,
An echo of the lullabies,
A fleeting glimpse of what had been,
A mother's love, a bittersweet hymn.
She sat alone
behind a closed window,
secured by iron grids,
on the top floor
of an ugly old black building
that some dared call
an orphanage.
Once she had hope,
Once she had dreams
that some kindly couple
might perceive,
wish her for themselves,
take her to a cosy house,
where food was savoury to taste.
She dreamt she would
achieve normality,
attend a proper school,
read books and play
with happy children,
receive toys occasionally,
and live in harmony.
The dream remained a dream.
days turned forlorn.
All hope was lost.
She was too old now.
Couples wanted small children,
Unsuitable ones came for her
but were refused.
Little did she know
that soon she would
develop another dream,
that someone would finally notice her,
and carry her off
on a romantic spree.
From the closed barred window
She looked at the moon.
Will she find happiness?
*Image of Lyre Box Organ Grinder by Pixabay
Orphan 'Round
A chimp's bereft tambourine in its paws
jigged 'round a bunch of detaining gazes,
donning smiling countenances or jaws
that plunge as the organ grinder phases.
Rhythmic jingling in sync amid the crank
that stirs 'round, eliciting monies freed
from purses and billfolds as the rich thank
the dual busker's intrigued act indeed.
A sincere beast calms down by a soiled boy
fronting the crowd, an orphan of the streets
note 'round the hurried hush and yields his joy
and sadly looked down as woe gauged heartbeats.
Coins and bills spill and a bright lad kneels cause
a chimp's bereft tambourine in its paws.
2022 May 28
I was just past one when you left this earth
Suicide the decision that you made
Who was left to tell me 'bout my self-worth
No one! Only you, and you should have stayed
Too young to express my emotions well
Left with brothers and a drunken dad here
Did you consider how on earth I'd dwell
With dad who stayed drunk so he could shed tears
God sent a couple who would love and care
They filled in the gap when you were not here
God had a plan to fill the space that's bare
They gave me love, showed the way, taught God's near
God opened doors, gave spiritual birth
I was just past one, when you left this earth
Finis'
Contest: Orphan Sonnet
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Written: 05/20/2022
Checked with Syllable Counter.net
I used rhymezone.com on the internet to insure good rhymes
I know the sonnet form is orphan sonnet and doesn't mean it has to be about being an orphan or about an orphan. Since it was called an orphan sonnet, I thought I would use that as my theme.
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