I’m too young and too happy
according to my ‘infectious agents’ professor
and is he ever wrong?
Four of us pressurized med-school freshmen
(Chloé, Emma, Léah, and I) who have become
fast friends, were twisted together in a seated circle,
laughing, cutting up and sharing our deepest thoughts
as the TAs handed back several quizzes that had been
slowly and torturously graded over the past month.
Isn’t it bad enough that studies have reordered us,
and made our days and nights as one?
Must we also wear our spirits low? We cannot.
Humor is our gentle requital
Laughter is the impossibility powerful sound
that slays worry and common sense
That educated man may spend his authority as he wishes
but well-timed delights can’t always be scheduled.
.
.
Songs for this:
Me & You by HONNE
Jamirobeegees Mashup by Pomplamoose
.
.
He said "you're too young and too happy" with a twinkly smile
but I treated it seriously in this poem. ??
Sunset is the time to rethink
A moment to ponder on
A time to a long silence
A time to breath in the open
A time for gathering new ideas
A time for thanksgivings
A time to requiem a requital love
An opportunity to reset
And an opportunity to reequip.
I must forgive for my Father to forgive me
I will forgive for my Father God shall also forgive me
Forgiveness is my creed
Lo, I am sorrowful, I must forgive
Forgiveness is in mine heart
He beating such, aloud passionate
A conscious, deliberate decision to release feelings of resentment
Possible vengeance
Lo, alas I forgive I you
You who, whom a person or group who has harmed me
Regardless of whether they actually deserve your forgiveness.
Unselfish love is the basis for true forgiveness,
Keeping no record of wrongs
Forgiving others always
letting go of resentment and giving up thoughts of repayment
I truly forgive I’m in tolerant,
I am compassionate,
Forgivingness are condone,
I excuse, and pardon. I won’t exact neither punishment nor redress,
I gives up all claims to requital and to resentment
Nor I have vengeful feelings.
I must forgive for my Father to forgive me
I will forgive for my Father God shall also forgive me
Forgiveness is my creed
12/21/23
For Forgiveness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
spectrums widen
perspective seeks to see
our Lord at work
visions of violence plundering&strife
then
as now
seemingly without remedy
bring forth
questions upon question
as
wait&
watch
for our Lord's reply
to be
announced
plain to see
the inherent
vitality to apear
expectations awaiting fulfilment
requital&justice
in
ordinary outcomes
strength patience
to
surmount
PROVERBIAL EVIL ONE HAS NO LIGHT PM2
"nefarious pernicious, one fate ensues requital punishments"
10/24/19
Proverbial Monoku 2 Poetry Contest
Monoku poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Carol Connell
Proverbs 24:20 For there shall be no reward to the evil man; the candle of the wicked shall be put out. King James Version
I. Warning Note
Your heart, I have seen
Your sorrowful heart
He would outwit them
As always, He’d done
Master has power, inestimable
He can’t be o’erpowered
So, good trade this’ll be
These were your thoughts
Yes, so right you were.
They won’t keep Him back
No, death and grave can’t
This, he told you
Your heart, I see
Your sorrowful heart
To repent,
To hope
Let it lead you
How did you learn?
All your failings, He forgave
Even this, will pass
Go not that way
The way of death
It’s the Serpent calling
II. Suicide Letter
Haunt me no more
Let me, rest take
Let me, this way go
Lest I be vexed to death
With the torment of shame
The sting of reproach
The curse of requital
Nay, the judgment
That of condemnation
Haunt me no more
Death must receive me
Now, it must receive me
III. Rejoinder in Death
O son of perdition,
Son of rebellion
How I longed
To, from your ways, turn you
Calling and calling
Lucifer filled your heart
Him you gave a foot
A foot and a hold
And now, your foot
In his hold
Will forever be
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Tonight finds me moved to give cause your bottomless emnity
If I am unclean, why do you then tarnish these hills with my blood?
Look well upon this dark face, for it's not the last you will see...
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I am faceless
Tattered by actuality
Heart thrumming in my ears
Blind to prospects
Voiceless ... soundless
Yet I scream, mute
Face to the sky, I wail like a fiend
Hailing the heavens like a forsaken angel
Above, the sucking expanse
A mocking roar of silence that drips, somber
And bleaches my bones black ... indelible.
Of those most dear, I brood
Ever-near, in my visceralities
The joy and regard that but their mention imbues
Sings through my blood like a brand
And buoys my spirit, steadfast.
They ARE my heart, after all
My essence ... my worth
Is this longing, then, but folly?
Should it NOT be the spur of my marrow
To hope for a shard's requital ... in love?
In tender, affectionate intent?
Or even in, dare say, (desperate) ... pity?
Even that, I'd surely embrace ...
Oh, yes ... even that.
* SECOND PLACE in the "Any Poem Won In A Contest In November" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Sponsor. *
* FIRST PLACE in the "Contest Number 355" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. **
In the august acclamations of weaponry
befits this uniform adorned
and in prideful boast our livery
of arsenal upon the enemy scorned
From this distant seat shall reap dead carapace
the automata's bullet indulges no refugee
to warrant such requital in fitting disgrace
the cowards of deaths technology
Bid thy to slaughter my child, to slaughtered be
in renditions dark battalions
and gather fragile limbs splatter splintered trophy
behest accolades pinned medallions
Touch pad the joy stick of war games
reload the unflinching trigger
machine gun of anonymous names
ply the graves of the unknown soldier
Set cause to profit and property
and in soulless regalia execute
this pestilent act to defile humanity
so reaped upon this bloody scythes repute
For this distant throne still bids fears menace
with guided missile acquits accountability
shall bare no witness to rueful penance
of cowards whelped by deaths technology
Bid thy to slaughter then my child, and to slaughtered be
in viscous deliverance either of these
dream thee not of honor or bravery
but in nightmares blade this evil appease
When nights are cold and there is naught but pain
and hate and fear are kings that reign supreme,
the cruellest wind shall bring a bitter rain,
can paradise be more than Man's sweet dream?
Vacated hearts behind the guns of war,
their blinded eyes cannot see love nor trust,
with souls out cast by grace for evermore
the deeds of rage are found in death's foul dust
yet still they cry, the gods are never just.
If I could find the source of your words
I would trace the lips of their creation
With the sweetness of a cool, delicious melon
On a hot summer day
And quench their thirst
With the nourishment
Of my neverending gratitude.
With the succulent dispensation
Of the honeycomb
I would whisper my requital
As soft-tongued salutation
Coursing the path
To the fountain of your expression
And bathing in your wellspring
Inundate myself with your gracious gift
And repeat with whole heart and self
My neverending, neverending gratitude.
Love is unconditional, but promises are not
When love is not requited such are promises, forgot
Vows deferred as if uncertain sounds of rhetoric
Seems times and seasons, rhymes and reasons were only shtick
Yet the desire deferred only proves a heart to be sick
A mind that is fainting in a soul that's lunatic
Losing hope of the joy set before in the beginning
Manifest language and deeds that touch with sinning
A sane man is now a man of Gadarenes dinning
A bewildered woman fearful, pressured, and chinning
Left him, reverse double standards, giving little
For blind love, great trust, a fool with no requital
Forgiving but not forgetting there's no aquittal
Once he understood, now she will just belittle
Whittle by whittle mind and heart, no longer hoodwink
Love, awry, uncovers overlooked faults and sins we prink
Forethink, count the full cost without haste, do not jink
Humiliation, love demanded's no love, doublethink
When promises are kept, human love wants its lot
For promises are conditional, but true love is not
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