Smile might mask my dismay, but I feel bad,
I hide my grief today, but I feel bad.
In crowded rooms, my shadows start to stray,
My pet corners on me prey, I feel bad.
Like a puppet dancing on broken wire,
I let the cruel strings play and feel bad.
I flaunt a forced smile of joy on my face,
A grand show to look okay, but feel bad.
When luck serves honeyed wine upon my tray,
I smash the glass midway and still feel bad.
So how I dig own grave in which to lie,
And happily buy decay to feel bad.
The cheering crowd demands a happy face,
I resort to sham display and feel bad.
_________________________
Introspection | 23.08.2026 | feelings, grave, happy, loneliness, Ghazal
Note: This ghazal is a psychological paradox on today’s times. Many find a strange comfort in melancholy.
The things I'd resort to
when I thought to please her
I've since been taught not to be
a top of the toothpaste tube squeezer
no longer dog-earing pages
of books I'm reading
and only go slow when driving
no more speeding
but it's all in vain
as nothing gets by
no matter what I do
or how hard I try
as whatever the option
it's always her choice
it's almost as though
I have no voice
yet truly do my very best
but in the end I'm really sunk
so much for best intentions
may as well be a monk
______________________________
God who can see the large picture of our lives does what is good for us. But we mortals have no patience. Something goes wrong against our wish and we resort to whining. This piece set in quatrains dwells on such a short-sighted act of men.
______________________
Leave us Lord, let us be,
Helpless have ye left us at life’s mid-sea--
Earth greets us with her gravity,
Leave us Lord, let us be.
Just let us do what we do with our faith,
We scarce what your sermon sayeth
In this cycle of life and death
In this world of limited breath.
Leave us to our what-so fate,
Tempt not with heaven’s ajar gate,
With destiny let’s have our date,
Leave us Lord, it’s too late.
Let us our own battles fight,
No use now for the light of new insight,
If lost, we’ll find our way from blight,
Leave us Lord to our light.
__________________________
Musings | 08.05.2026 | death, God, grievance/grief, faith, quatrain
Tired phrases
cheap tricks
Find me a teacher
who does not resort to such
to keep the classroom clock a-tick
‘Twenty questions’
‘hangman’s noose’
for the little ones
‘duck, duck, goose’
‘And that reminds me of a story… ‘
~ worn-out teacher in all her glory
Cowards are those who resort to violence.
And cowards are those who hide behind silence.
Violence seekers try to conceal a complex.
And want to show off how their muscles flex.
Silence embracers try to cope with a weakness.
And live in unfathomable bleakness.
Why don’t people act humbly and sensibly
So that others keep their dignity and live happily?
Why do they have to disguise their flaws with arrogance?
And why do the aggressed show a lot of patience?
Both parties are to blame for their cowardice
If not treated respectfully, people should act with competence.
Love,they say has many a cloudy nomenclature
Lang of metaphors and figures of virtual stature;
Those who resort to it live in the wild cavern
Of blown up false images and chronic concern;
An enigma that makes one go out of oneself!
Romeo and Juliet have left behind the Mawn--
Tall claims and a bright aura around Eros's crown
Have not many been tossed and whirled across
The endless yards of the illusion pursuing dross,
Leaving the chaser sapless , febrile and thirsty..?
Who is wiser :Narcissus who loved himself more
Or Echo who killed herself to dote and adore..?
Strangely, the height and depth of fond limerence
Has no meter or measure to gauge its reverence;
May true intent prevail ,aye over the strong urge !
Accuse me.' I will listen..Yet in this do not abuse me. Should any take the idea i may
Be in error..Employ neither passive aggression or resort to terror.' And I will be
As equal as my faculties allow, there may
Well be sequels.? I might not be up to your
Mental status.? God is always up-rating us
No doubt i'll meet my 'overmatch' thats as it should be..' then I shall indeed shut my hatch.' And listen to learn, what i may ?although
I may be now more short on days, all love
To any reader, and oh God.!! By the way Can you grant
Us some real Christian teachers' And leaders and doctors.' Nurses bakers shopkeepers, tyrefitters and librarians
Fishermens thats more than one btw.'
Or peoples.? Oh if you as a various person
Comment thats ok.' By various person i mean a representative of humanity who might have different views
at times; other .'
I indeed might be considered such.? As i'll
Be different than the last writer you commented on.' Anyway if you think, i'm right or wrong.? Just make a comment on.'
A school office.
A chair.
A boy.
A strained smile,
Owned by the principal,
He claims this was not an easy decision
He pretends to care -
The boy is expelled.
Distraction, aggressive, non-compliant
Nothing more, nothing less,
His crime: a multitude of reasons
A perfect score on his test,
Impossible, he is miles further than the rest -
Of the class,
He claims it is suspicious
Boys like ‘him’ don’t usually achieve success
Next -
Yelling at the the teacher,
For making multiple insensitive comments
Micro-aggressions passing for ‘truth’
The teacher, has a history of complaints,
From fellow black youths.
The teacher is white -
We already know whose side the principal will choose
These were never crimes,
They just couldn’t buy the black boys silence -
So they resort to calling him violent
The principal stands up,
He claims there is nothing he can do
That is a lie, we all know the truth,
He just couldn’t control the black student
They asked us
In the absence of screens,
To dim your conscience, pains, and dreams
Would you resort to panicked screams?
Or would the quiet be obscene
can i please you?
my heart yearns to be chosen,
to be your sense of direction on the path you choose to walk.
is it selfish of me to want to have your pride
without asking for it?
do i have to be selfish
in order to have love?
open your heart to me
i feel the love i’ve been searching for
in your chest.
why can’t you give it to me?
i promise that i’ll give you the same,
your words aren’t what i want
they won’t be enough,
i am much too selfish to be satisfied.
i need to read between the lines
what you give me will never be enough,
i always resort to stealing from those i love.
do you still love me?
my ears can hear the cries of your past
i am much too selfish
i want to know more than you.
i see the roots under your dirt
the truth i have made from your past that is real,
will you still love me
when my truth becomes too truthful?
when my heart beats, yours should too.
i have told you my selfish ways,
as i become one with you.
your heart is mine
your words aren’t what i need any longer
i already feel you in my chest.
do you still love me?
your heart has corrupted mine,
do you love me enough
to help to draw the line?
Chivalry is a relic of the past.
The era of fair ladies and noble chivalry appears long gone. Men board buses and trains, and in cramped passageways, they rudely instruct women—especially on the freeway—to move aside and stop delaying traffic.
Yet, the fair ladies of today are no longer timid; they refuse to be wallflowers and often display inflated egos. In response to this assertiveness, men resort to labeling them as whores, es, and witches.
Women, let us not bow our heads or apologize. Chivalry has faded away because men have become broken giants, struggling with their own shortcomings. Weak by nature in their arrogant behavior, they seem trapped in an endless cycle. The question lingers: when will it come to an end? Who do they think they are, mere dust from falling stars?
Why do some believe it’ll get better
while others are sure it’ll get worse
Why do some take wild chances
while others sit out the big dances
Why do some sock it away
while others live for today
Why do some sit and think
while others resort to drink
The answer, my friend, will depend
on what you discover in the end
Heros i find are not always heroic.' Yet through determination
And study, some resort to the stoic.' Continual review of
The lesser of self.' Desire for better in everything else.'
In thought before actions, in working life through.' That
Can enable the hero.' that shall arise whithin you.'
We must de-industrialise i hear..By some pallid strange
Specimens; let this be clear' in order to devolve to sustain'
We must resort to mass slaughter? Oh the idiocy.' And such
Strain the cattle are creating co2.. its the stuff of creation
And part of it.' Is that not true.? Yet still we must strive to
Mine lithium ore..Quite a destructive passtime.' To obtain
From raw.? Yet the goal is sustainable farming and such
Like ploughing with horses? And lighting candles well its
Not really that tough.' It can be done.' I'm not saying it
Can't but we'll need all the livestock.' About which some
Rant.' To do the impossible mankind ever tries.' And fads
Are ubiquitous as are callumny and lies.'
We’re in a young-love recession.
Gen Zers are slow to trust and averse to risk,
we have, it seems, a particular social nervousness
about interpersonal exchanges and the symbiosis of love.
So we resort to situationships (undefined relationships),
a stratagem for closeness, with zero commitment.
You can flirt; you can kiss; you can dance.
You can have a crush so big it blots out the stars
You can have transformative romantic encounters
you can care deeply and get hurt badly
you can, in fact, be absolutely wrecked by love
All without ever being in a relationship.
Thank God we’re only young once.
.
.
Songs for this:
Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars
Busy Woman by Sabrina Carpenter
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