Rueful Poems | Examples

How long must he wait?

How perversely exciting it used to be, in
the months after you made your decision
to abandon this hopeless situation
meaning [rueful laughter] the UK, not so much
the shattered bones of you and me

I was still hanging on, a faithful puppy
getting up early and heading out to Heathrow
to provide the welcome committee
and then I went straight to work? and where
did you go on those days? 

I forget you had other friends, and
that strangely I wasn't the epicentre
of your multiverse

30 years have passed
the children you had with Wolfgang cycle shorts
may even have children now, but
Facebook won't furnish me with that information

On those airport journeys I always listened to
the Blood on the Tracks cassette
I found in the office 'library', a source of much wonder
which also included rare volumes, magazines
and actual vinyl. They didn't appreciate what they had
and neither, here comes the punch-
line, did I

I'll Be Your Light

“In trying times the touch of compassion uplifts 
the sunk spirit from the depth of depression”- By Poet


You walk the content life through the dulcet days
on the rose garden's dream-paved cinnamon pathway.
Along the winding wake of the butterflies you chase
the rustle of rapture, making sure the pursuit won't stray.

Soon enough you reach the edge of the opaque night
when the surging storm shatters the somber sky,
the pole star disappears out of your sullen sight, 
the trying time torments you, you don’t know why.

A wreck, you crumble in the rueful ruins of sadness, 
stow the shards of crushed life in depth of depression,
where you vainly search for you in the dreary darkness,
despair wraps you with the shroud of dejection.

The emphatic glow of my passion’s candle you’ll then find
like the mesmeric moon in the onyx sky shining bright.  
You’ll rise from the debris of the melancholic mind,
for in the dark of dismal night I’ll be your longing light.

Rush Hour

Mine  is a wild  spring step,
shoe heels dash leaf strewn path,
I spy wrinkled driver’s,
rueful rush hour grim mien,
from sleek chrome  cars  crawl as,
my drained feet  moult traction!

Rush Hour

Mine  is a wild  spring step,
shoe heels dash leaf strewn path,
wrinkled drivers sour mien,
from rueful rush hour toll,
as sluggish cars inch by,
my drained feet moult traction

WISTFUL

forlorn
     woebegone
in
pensive
    musing

this
    yearning
this 
     longing

melancholy
becomes
a
   rueful
     pining
almost
   nostalgic
       contemplation

A Wilderness of Mirrors

You’ve read about the Victory of Pyrrhus,
who said, “I beat them, but I’ll tell you flat:
(he hadn’t seen this motor-bike with mirrors)
we won’t survive another one like that!”

I asked the rider why he needs reflection
on such a scale. “You’d rather I rode blind?”
Approaching cars, he told me, need detection:
“I’ve got to know who’s coming up behind!”

Next question: “Disadvantages accrue?”
This one provoked, in him, a rueful smile.
“My gasoline’s expensive, this is true:
I burn a gallon, every single mile!”

Hanging On For Dear Life

Lately, nothing seems to be going right.
Sorrow spills from my heart every night.
Try as I might, I simply fail to understand
why my tears gather like grains of sand.
I'm hanging on for dear life, but how I miss
the love we shared. I've fallen into an abyss,
and in the distance I watch the sun as it sets,
filled with forlorn emotions and rueful regrets.
I've lost my verve for living and paying the price
for listening to my sad heart's quixotic advice.

Love is a similitude diva of a butterfly soar

Love is a similitude diva of a butterfly soaring- A Song of Nazrul Islam Babu (Niaz Mohammad Chowdhury)

Love is a similitude diva of a butterfly soaring higher on a flight of blindfolded pastime
A restful walk through the memory lane, a glimpse into the mirror of a tranquil mind, to be rueful, once again
Some of all these are longing, some are doodling to yearn
The churn of the longing to meet the asymptotic is no more to be nominative, still undone.
Yet again, love thrive to reborn, to beseech lover's reach, nonetheless
Some ponder love a heart song, a ripple on a pristine mirror
Once broken, the stain is irreversible to realm into oblivion
Eternally bonded, to reign through the saga of longing again.

11-9-2024
November, Dallas

Thought Parades

An escapade from thought parades
A blockade of rouge descent
An oeillade craved
Rueful indignance
A room full of insects

A jocose allusion
A lissome illusion
A querulous reality
I weep where you can't see

Streams of dreams
Melt slowly, spring snowman
Abhorrent print
Why can't I just speak casually

In forest green

I do walk
	in the forest green
upon the soft paths
	beneath towering trees


colorful birds
	around me sing
and rich full scents
	float upon the breeze

and at my side
	they do walk
our love is full
	and rich our dreams

and life is just
	like a perfect dream
exactly how
	I would have it be

and I do now
	shake my head
with rueful smile
	cease my daydream

the world I build
	within my mind
of castles white
	and damsels fair

like cotton candy
	of sugar spun
has no substance
	and will never be

for I do walk
	in landscape bare
and only dust
	is upon the breeze

no castle does
	lie upon this path
and no maiden fair
	does wait for me

my daydreams but
	are a fantasy
building disappointment
	that does await me

yet I would still
	this world escape
if there was some how
	to live with in my dreams

Sanctum of Solitude

My Innermost And Fervent Desire for Solitude
Has Unleashed the Taurus Beast
Mortally Weary are My Bones That Pre Exist My Existence
Worn Is The Sound of My Granted Title
Weighed With Accoladed Responsibilities
Fileted Fame, Phantom Honor
Two Eyes Blinded For One To See

Tangled Tongues Like Two Edged Swords
Slanderous Vices of Presumptuous Predators
Trying to Obscure And Prey on My Harmonious Heart
Entwined Conservation and Preservation Driven 
To My Pigeonhole Soul,  Reconnoiter Sanctum
Vocals of Virgin Light Pours In Streams of Truth Beams,
Silenced The Rueful Beast Starved of The Tender Lamb that Strayed.

Unbridled, Untied, reaching to the infinities, Thou

Unbridled, Untied, reaching to the infinities, Thou
- Rabindranath Tagore---Geetanjali
17th December

Unbridled, Untied, reaching to the infinities, Thou
                Strumming with own, melodious mellow
        Blossoming thine grace in fragrance of mine
                Hence, thy reason, gentle and sweet, stays on, rumination.

        For so many vibrance, color and chime
        For so many a song, came along, rhythm and rhyme.
For they, simplest and gentlest, affectionate and loving
Understood a soul in silence, long lost heartache and grace, embracing.
Thou, a shrine, and I, when, integrity, underneath
Glowing in the dark, the ever-flowing David and Goliath.


The books of divine, where they remembered us in thine
Grace and her seven seas, an enormous possibility
The fathomless oceans and the foamy seas, 
The wave and the droplets, reflections, deep
Luminous tranquility, and a rueful serenity, shadowless
Returns to me, in becoming mine
Teardrops and churns, emotion and serene
trickles down on me, a mournful sea!
All-encompassing Thou, traces back to me
Sweetness, overwhelming, and grace
undisturbed, absorbed a mood along, joyous!

When Doves Cry

Ice formed in craggy spirals 
Upside down and billowed
on the outstretched arms
of a winter dead willow
still awaiting Spring’s charm

sunlight peered through 
the glistening frozen crystals 
as the ice-dripped nature’s tears 
falling upon the cold gripped ground 
near the site of memories from yesteryear
 
loved one’s gathered in close circles
on the wet crunchy chilled lawns
while warm voices rang
a murmuration of hymns

in the dirge of grief to brave
amid sorrow and loss
notes fondly resonated in prayer
praising the life in death that crossed
in the crisp and wintry air
departing to the grave
imparting music to heaven’s gates

two doves embellished in pure white
soared while lamenting its lyric
with rueful cooing to ethereal heights
singing upon angel’s breath the loss, the love
stirring the clouds overhead
finding their way back home
following the footsteps of the dead

August 7, 2023

Audra

Audacious
Unbeatable
Daring
Rueful
Affable



(Dedicated to Audra, in "Words on Fire" by Jennifer A. Nielsen)

Empty Nest

Reduced to a couple once again, 
Remembering this is how our life once began, 
Blessed by God with three children, 
Now all grown up and settled in their own families, 
Grateful for their lives, at the same time sad, 
Looking at our empty house, 
Where once reigned their bubbly children noises, 
Each room a rueful reminder
Of their exuberant laughter and a million memories;
Now, we look at each other, 
Our conversations interspersed with, 
"I wonder what he's doing now!"
Or "How is she managing all her chores?"
Worrying and wondering, 
Whiling away our time with Chinese Checkers, 
Recalling the days when we used to play together, 
Silent spaces speak volumes, 
While we wait for photos and phone calls, 
Or vacation visits that are few and far between. 



3rd May 2023


For Cooper Etheridge's "Empty Nest" contest

• Short Rueful Poems
• Famous Rueful Poems
• Best Rueful Poems
• Read Rueful Poems
• Long Rueful Poems
• Rueful Quotes