My bank account is sorely tried
Seems I have overspent on funs,
I must learn to swallow my pride
My bank account is sorely tried!
I’ve found it hard to put aside
Now I am getting lots of duns,
My bank account is sorely tried
Seems I have overspent on funs.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written August 19, 2022
submitted to "Triolet - Old or New" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Joseph May
[syllables checked with How Many syllables
rhymes checked with Rhyme Zone]
Fill my cup-
out of reach, I cover up,
corrupted by kindness and sensitivity.
Tread on me-feet of debris,
ask of me, you will receive.
Delivered in sweetness,
dripping with meekness,
I play Twister around your needs
like a tangled sheep and
I ask you what you want,
But all I really mean is-
I want to put me first, but how?
I dont know how.
To begin is to allow self centeredness.
I live to serve,
to fulfill your dreams
while mine remain
undreampt, unkempt, disheveled, overspent.
Kindness-this double edged sword.
Think Im killing two birds with one stone,
In reality-
Im running from reality, from my reality with your reality.
I never face reality.
Never being real, actually.
Sacrificed my life, but in my mind
at least I made yours better.
What a coward Ive made of myself.
Strive to balance this world of kindness,
with Purpose.
Oh dear, woe is me
After years of having money
That I can feel and see
I knew how much was in my wallet
That held the notes
Coins jangled in the pockets
Of my outdoor coats
I did not have to worry
If I overspent
I could see what was left in my wallet
And where my money went
I will miss the coinage
And the special notes
This different kind of payment
Does not get this old girls vote
How can you give children
Some coins to put into their pockets
This will not be possible
With a plastic docket
What will happen to the Mint
Collectors of coins and such
Employees will lose their jobs
That won't impress them much
I know a lot of people
Don't share my point of view
Please respect it and
I'll respect yours too
Too much change as we grow old
Seems to dramatic and drastic
That's why I hold the view
Back with money out with plastic
Seven Verses of Sin
Seven rode over Conceited Bridge,
In search of the Vanity Fair.
One rider named Pride slipped and fell,
Perishing at the cross of despair.
Six rode over the Plains of Contempt,
In search of the lost and unsaved.
One rider named Lust yielded to desire,
Becoming a slave of depraved.
Five rode over the Valley of Time,
In search of the Sluggish unknown.
One rider named Sloth breathed his last,
In lethargy he turned into stone.
Four rode over the Battle site Rage,
In search of avenge for those departed.
One rider named Wrath smites no more,
Fury ripped him open, broken hearted.
Three rode over the Avarice Hills,
In search of a Gorge of Fulfilment.
One rider named Glutton died of bloat,
Insatiable life of greed overspent.
Two rode over the Rivers of Gold,
In search of happiness, wealth and fame.
One rider named Envy was torn apart,
By a Green-eyed Monster bearing his name.
One rider took rest by a Virtuous Dell,
Sole survivor without compulsion or sin.
Reaping reward for a principled quest,
So, this is the end let the story begin.
When I was younger,
Bought candy for 50 cents
In California
Back then, I found that
I overspent way too much
I should save next time
In Arizona…
I yearn for someone's warm touch
Suddenly…in awe…
Back then, I figured
That I lost my head – I’m mad
You are so sublime
She
08/05/2018
My love is taken. Fully, wholly absorbed.
I am monumentaly in love with the most wonderous creature I’ve known.
One thing is certain, she need never feel alone,
For she resides deep within my heart.
She is my heart,
She is my light,
She is my smile,
She is my heart.
A hole inside me, a cavern, a crater has been filled,
Every day Ive existed I wondered why I was hallow,
Why I drank, why I ate, overspent, why I wallow.
She resides deep inside me consuming my emptiness.
I can breath,
I can be,
I can love,
I can breath.
Now I am whole, sated, replete, complete.
Every new day I'm filled with dreams of my gorgeous girl,
How she’s so sexy when she smiles and gives her hair a twirl.
She resides inside me and I in her.
She is my all,
She is my night,
She is my strength,
She is my all.
Time-struck in the Intervals of Space the Atom-Lover makes his way;
More weary in a weightless sense Than Atlas, overspent and out of reach -
Soft feet upon a fallen leaf.
I SIT ASTRIDE THE SUN AND SPEAK WITH GOD:
He burns then spreads my flesh to show Blood’s wisdom
MEANING IS IN THE MAKING
We take our passage through the ceiling of books' doors. We fly through woods, green lanes, loaded hedges, fields, dust and our wings cloud the rain. We stop and hide to see Death watch my coffin burn. The laughing wood explores my Flesh. I touch the eyes of love. A smile.
CONCLUSIONS CONCLUDED THE FEELING FOLLOWS ME
Beside my eyes I see your dreams have walked away, sweet tears. My ears eat air. I read my distance in the clouds, old winds, Blue skies, turn to trees so quiet,
Soft feet upon a fallen leaf.
LOOK - STAND - BE OFF
He weeps the songs of rivers burning. I wait for breath to celebrate the page. Our joy in alleys dark and beautiful. Dangerous as speech.
SPARE ME
Voices from within my straining thighs inspire the moaning little things to answer me....... This building's girders dream................
His agents trap the falling words
And stop.
Passion overspent,
The details mount;
the land is free, far out
where winds are wild, the grasses dry;
reflection punishes itself
and distance goes inexorably
from post to post and long past vision.
Mercy is for purchase,
when they open up the doors.
One speaks of crying.
May it be done absent sorrow?
Absent joy?
Sir, call the roll;
no, never absent touches of regret.
The land is free, somehow;
repeat it endlessly. The fenceposts
will be there, waiting, I suppose.
But they are absent being,
incidental silent cries
to emptiness.
Absent anything.
~
The advent candle is lit again
The Christmas cards are writ again
Beneath the tree gifts sit again
We’ve overspent a bit again
The Christmas table is set again
Our loved ones are met again
We drink a toast of wet again
And say merry Christmas yet again
Lying for the light of a sun that set
Distance disconnected
Spending every breath to be in its sight
Resistant but infected
Forgetting who we are just to hide from pain
A hate for our own past
Remembering the night that laid our dying dreams
Too late to pray it won’t last
Winter went and came as our summers died
The lovers spoke of truth but every sentence lied
Night became accustomed to deceiving thought
The day far too naïve to know what this had brought
Over-thinking starts to power up the wings of loss
Another dying perception
Over-using begs to claim a hold on a holy cross
Done trying deception
Love was distant but so was hate
Far too tired, distant, drawn from this patient wait
Pain was overspent and so was fear
The devil and the god are falling far from here
Numb and still alone and always lost
Forgetting what to breathe and why there is a cost
Fading into apathy, betrayed attempts
Waiting for the end but still held in our own contempt