some people find hope in a valentine or a person’s hug
Others find hope in a prayer, church service or a dog’s lick
I did not find hope in any of the regular places
It’s not that I was not looking
Well, let’s rephrase that
I did not know I was looking
but I think I might have been
Because hope is something that brought me out of my funk
My relatives tried to instill it into me
They are horrible people; their negativity bounces off their pores
One of my neighbors tried in her bumbling idiot way
But I have never liked her or her little dog
I finally found hope in a white-walled padded room
where I could be myself, see myself and play with myself
We were too down,ignorance spread
Many darkened gorges and darkened hearts
On gravel paths in gravel lands
The moon was shut,and sun was hid.
A light of beacon,then arose in north
As general fact,sun arises in the East
But this was the sun,which arose in the North.
You taught and told ,the path of right
And from dusky night,you gave a dawn.
You did your best,to rephrase
The message of prophet and the words of God(Allah)
O' Mohsin e Milat,we miss you a lot.
From kindlings to systems known
Unlock the worlds,which were unknown
The Uswa and the Kauther gates,
Direct the youth to wisdom paths
The orphans homes give louder prays,
And hadi TV enlights new ways.
Now the sun has set and he had met,
The really God(Allah),who showed him road
AHH, Mohsin e Milat,we miss you a lot!!
to paint with words and colored phrase
we breathe new speech and set ablaze
the hearts once cooled bereft their fire
now brought to life through told desire
and splashing verse in poignant praise
our canvas aches to speak the ways
we'll shape the bourgeois to amaze
and through our poems we thus aspire
to paint with words
we fill our nights and start our days
by finding tropes to bright rephrase
the common things our lives require
and if we're blessed perhaps inspire
another soul that greets our gaze ...
to paint with words.
Copyright © 2019 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art by Donatella Marraoni taken from public domain files at FreePik / Flickr )
You don’t owe me anything.
That’s the difference now.
You're not asking.
I'm not hinting for less.
No one is dressing it up
as metaphor.
But I did leave something
where you’d see it.
Not a trap—
more like a record that could be
interpreted as invitation.
Of what?
Of how long the echo held
after your part went missing.
That’s all.
I won’t chase it.
I won’t rephrase.
But if something in you
tightened—
if you paused longer
than the line deserved—
then you already know
it was yours.
And you already know
I knew you’d look.
Line of inquiry:
“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as she viewed
scent of love did not exude”
- by Unseeking Seeker
Amidst our laughter and great fun
She calmed down with a frown
As if a ghost was climbing down
To turn her back, leave and shun.
Did we express things harshly or rude?
Which word has implied something broad
We only meant just one thing
So kindly from our heart that morning.
Do we need to clarify, rewind or rephrase?
We’ll do with sincere apology and embrace
Unintended innuendo comes fortuitously
As abrupt blow while playing smoothly.
Extra cautiousness cries all the time
To make our lines go on perfect rhymes
Words must be melodious to all ears and heart
Well thought with love and care from the start.
Answer my call to arms you patriots all
and rise up with blunt collateral force -
rage against the culture wars that we stall
the Neo-Left tyranny at its source.
Oppose their marxist ideological plot
and let not the herbal tea nazis prevail -
remember back that which old sense forgot
and arm our true selves that we not fail.
Return fire on who rephrase and revise -
Rage! Rage! And be politically direct.
On these psycho wingnuts upon them rise,
rise up till no longer are we “Correct”.
Burn their Trojan Horse and stand our walls
that the soldiers of satan seek to tear down -
resist lest all that we know and built falls
and norms become the new battleground.
Speak the truth these lentil eaters betray,
rail against the nose ring cultus of lunacy,
and be not a pawn to what fools obey
with their spin and New Age orthodoxy.
Return fire on who rephrase and revise -
Rage! Rage! And be politically direct.
On these psycho wingnuts upon them rise,
rise up till no longer are we “Correct”.
Written: September 1995
The spices release their scent to ease my heart,
numb ~ yet tracing glasses brimming with tears,
aching for a touch of chamomile wisps,
beneath a sky that reeks of regrets
and words unspoken ~ too afraid to rephrase,
like smoke incensed with sulfur,
like blue cheese and old pickles,
tickling the curves of this melanin melancholy,
urging these fingers to purge forgotten rhymes,
as if there is no ingredient for healing,
when loneliness creeps like a slow poison…
But must I thaw the ice within cups of compassion,
infused with clovers of peace,
when I am a mere reflection of your mistakes,
a table adorned with plates of bitter weeds,
listening to the sagas of the rain and sun?
They taste not my pulse of patience,
as I remain, the feeler of phasing appetizers,
rotting in ruins ~ objectified and rejected,
by the twisted tongue of vanity and silence…
I think I deserve a ‘Best Actor’ award
For my performance as the Hopeless Romantic in the One Sided Lover
Although it’s more my life than a role
I was given a script but once I saw you I forgot my lines
You being the female lead that I was destined to fall for but never get
How cruel this production can be
They told me to act helpless
But I didn’t need to act
I was already helpless enough
Couldn’t get through those eye contact scenes without my mind blanking
“Cut! From the top, and for Godsakes remember your cue”
My cue?
Right this is a production
Nothing that happens here is real
We’re just characters on a screen
But are we?
Are my feelings for you not true?
But I can't lie that when I look into those eyes of yours
I feel like Jack from the Titanic
Sinking into icy waters
Let me rephrase that
Sinking under this immense pressure of professionalism that remains unspoken between us
I have to keep this act going just a bit longer
But can I?
Can I make it through my scenes without tripping up?
Can I remember my lines?
Will I be cut from the production?
Will this One Sided love story have room for two?
Dear readers,
i now recite a tale, a poem,
aviothic wishes, made from the glass
to hang in the hall, where peoples dance
if i rephrase it, i'm a mirroball
i carry the weight of my emotions and thoughts
the moon dancing around blue earth,
a mirroball in the space
shinning bright till the eclipse hit it
i'm fine till the mirroball breaks
i know i'm in pain but i'll still smile
shine like a star that never turns dark
you know,
the star has a work to do,
because down there somebody is looking for
something to look at
to calm their inner storm & be at rest
ssad
One Wish
I was young
I was stupid
If i had one wish
i’d wish to undo it
but i’ve realized i can’t spend my time
dwelling
on what could have been
and what wasn’t all because we couldn’t
fix our communication
he is the one boy i would have loved
and if you’re reading
All we needed was trust
I have loved you
no
let me rephrase that
I would have loved you
more than the sun loves the sea
If only you had let me
i have never not
thought this much
about everything
all the time
all at once
i have never known contentedness
as i imagine it
is everyone’s perception the same
am i presumptuous
if not worry
consideration
if not weighing
contemplation
if
am i taking it too far
have i stretched the limit
of their assiduity
let me rephrase:
i needn’t.
i meant the first phrase
merely feared
miscommunication
as if it were mine to contain
i f’ing ooze responsibility
for anything meaningless
take my word
my word?
My word,
aren’t we getting big
for the britches
they hemmed us into?
His blood wasn’t red
At least in my head… that is what I said
To myself, believed, accepted
As fact – absolute proof that he was better
Than the mere human, the simple man
The one who took my hand when I needed him
His sweat didn’t smell
But, oh, my heart did swell… never would repel
This heart who loved him so
Knew he was like the sainted ones
Despite his addictions and secrets, the darkness
That whispered doubt from his soul when I prayed for him
His light wouldn’t fade away
Never giving in to dread or delay… a soul who would betray
Reflections of kindness and grace, inspiration
Faith that soared over the hesitation, the suspicion
To make a way through each conviction,
Destroying the grief that lives inside bitterness and resentment
His life wasn’t honored by praise
There were worries and tears to rephrase… they amaze
Bold fears who haunt like dog days, more than just a phase
They left my spirit gloomy and breathless
With the feelings that bled dark red, crimson stories
Reminding me he died from his revulsion to hope
Some days are diamonds, some days are stone
Wish all the bad stuff would leave me alone
Let me rephrase that
I'm a real happy cat
Some peeps are never satisfied, get off your throne
First Corinthians
chapter twelve verse twenty-five:
Care! (undivided!)
in tilling a field,
there's as much dignity as
in writing a poem!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Adapted from quote by Booker T. Washington:
"No race can prosper till it learns that there is
as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem."
With reference to 1 Cor. 12:12-31
As noted in the Bible commentary entitled,
"AFRICAN AMERICAN: The Body of Christ"
in The Catholic Youth Bible
Hey Academic,
throw me some facts
Explain to me clearly
each thought you attack
Dear Intellectual,
restate and rephrase
Your version of truth,
empty words in the fray
Hello Professor,
is the poison pill done
Refilled with your venom
to spread to the young
And lastly the Critic
who stands by the wall,
Humpty Dumpty awaiting
your push to then fall
While open minds sit
in the cold and the rain,
Your cowardly torrents
bring nothing but pain
To all those so cloistered,
divorced from what’s real
Perdition your tenure
—inflamed to repeal
(Beaupre: November, 2020)
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