Shelved Poems | Examples

Born Between Coordinates

I was born in the pause between two coordinates
drawn by cartographers with sterilized hands.
My soul was indexed in miles and postal codes
Filed under miscellaneous anomaly at checkpoints.

I crossed borders that did not exist,
except in the mouths of men with rifles.
My breath was weighed against paperwork,
my shadow flagged by predictive suspicion.

I was processed in buildings with no windows,
where hope was a form to be filled in triplicate.
My story was annexed, taped to a strangers' bias,
then shelved into the limbo of “pending.”

I failed the empathy test of the world
where spectacle outperforms survival.
My life was too procedural for pity,
and my death was redacted for efficiency.

her

Focus and
hit it
when the image
is sharp
and
not blurry.

Is she
an object,
or a person
who you wish
not a dish....
of a dream
that's tasty...

She's funny and charismatic 
she leaves you rising
about the spectacles
of the run of messages

Bleeding,
her involuntariness
she entourages
energizes
inside.......
She's death
because you chose,
lust over the red
of blooming
she's been there....
and still,
you beat the drums
and not the piano,
she rules over gentle
and your storms raging,
she's given plenty
of opportunities,
a pillow sleeping
The gentle is shelved
of the wish and the hows
and the black is in denial
of the thunderstorms,
a bed here for one's blinds
as he 's fantasizing
can only be harmless
hard to sleep at night
until the daylight bleeds
in all of wishes created
outside of your destiny
The garden you neglected
refuses says bees and roses....

Nurture Your Virtue

Nurture the virtues of your eternal soul,
those attributes that are eternal.
Share your best, make it your goal,
let them manifest from the internal.

Let others see what will unfold,
as it extends from within to the external.
Share the creative energy, as you’ve been told,
open your mind like a ripe kernel.

Allow your thoughts to flow like a river,
share your gifts, be a giver.
Don’t hold back, it’s time to deliver,
use all the arrows in your quiver.

Nothing you’re given is meant to be held,
and never a time for talents to be shelved.

Exit music for a bad movie

"Exit music for a bad movie"

that shining kingdom
waits and watches 
numbed now to nightmares
its falling cuckold leaders 
deliver fools gold 
hungry homeless open palms receive 
broken promises overflowing
forgotten hymns and collection plates 
souls are worth blood in buried pain 
borders are drawn all are caged
the marriages not made in heaven
shelved for another day


Candide Diderot. ‘25

Inside myself

I.
I got lost inside myself one night,
Like stars fall through a dome.
The body stayed, but not the light
The soul had left for home.

II.
I walked a library of breath,
Books unwritten, spines of bone.
Each dream was shelved behind my eyes,
And each one dreamed alone.

III.
My ribs turned into corridors,
Each one a silver thread,
Where time knelt down and locked its doors
Inside my hollow head.

IV.
I passed a moon with open veins,
Its blood was blue and slow.
The silence whispered names of me
I never got to know.

V.
I vanished into what I was
Not flesh, not mind, but mist.
And something vast began to buzz
In all I don’t exist.

I Was Drunk

Whispers
Long and lost
Loud and low
“S e i z e  t h e  d a y”
Touched my ears,
Poured into my soul,
Vanished my inner ghoul,
The night nostalgic, new,
Nectarous and nefarious,
Feathered my hands,
Floated me from my desk,
I sniffed soul soothing poetry
Intoxicating from the dusty old
Buttery books shelved on, inviting. 

I drank one poem, 
And another,
Then another, 
Until I was dizzy drunk,
My eyelashes winged to the window
And it was dawn.

In the Autumn of Life

.
the wind has died down—
the ground  s t r e w n 
with nature’s debris—
     autumn’s palette
a feast for the eye … a shelved chore
before the
       inevitable miasma of dusty decay 

teased by wind’s chilling fingers
that’s tasted in the back of the throat –
green and red leaves 
     scattered  side by side—
     a conspiritual cosying up
a compelling contrast:
     youthful green, aged red— 
although red leads the rainbow,
          it 
             follows 
                 in nature …

the beauty of old age 
unfolds in the display of fallen leaves—
     s c a t t e r e d   to the wind
     
                infinitely wiser …

Memorial Day 2024

It comes in flash, as face or sound
In fleeing memory of yore
Young bucks in green when mission-bound
The whumps of distant bombing roar

The scenes in large and small details
All etched in memory for life
And booby traps on jungle trails
With no reprieve from deadly strife

So gone, forgotten, shelved and filed
Yet it returns from abyss deep
Flashback to times really wild
Makes you wake up from fragile sleep

Another year summer's here
Remember all who went away
Who lived and died, confronting fear
Salute our vets, Memorial Day

May 23, 2024

Considering my What Ifs

I was going to become a teacher
I thought it was my calling

I was young and thought it best
to go to university straight out of high school
before I'd go to teachers' college

Well... things did not go as planned
for better or for worse, who knows
I got sidetracked ended up taking a job
education got shelved for longer than expected

So I worked and launched a modest career
No guidance maybe no brains ~ who knows
But in the end I realized the truth ~
if you don't choose, life chooses for you

Go for your dreams or risk living with regrets



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Motherly Love and Frowns

                         Motherly Love and Frowns


Treading down the memory lane streams to my mind 
memories from far yet near, some sweet, some sour,
memories preciously shelved in the precincts of my inner sanctum;

so sweet were the mindful motherly hugs of love
	like the embrace of a divine angel 
so serene soft and self-assuring her smiles
         like the spring selfless sunshine
so delicious her warm kisses on the forehead
	that no other feel can replace,
yet interspersed at times with some harsh words
	for playing hide and seek on the sideway street;

so soft was the caress of her hands on the cheeks
	that not even a beloved can bestow
so cool and compassionate her cuddly care
         no considerate nurse can dispense
so pleasing to rest on her merciful knees
	more so after a hectic day`s fatigue,
yet interposed often times with some scowls
        for dusting my clothing or getting home late after cycle rides;	
 
 In afterthought, her love and frowns have made me the man I am.

No Way Out

.
No Way Out
A genie in the bottle to grant my wishes—
I’m drifting, 
looking for the red exit sign.

My desire for freedom waning 
     like the moon reflected in hues of blue 
          on the glass
               of a Klein bottle:
     A line begins, 
yet never ends, 
     curling inward,
outward.
 
The terrarium of my life
		shelved between the dust motes of indifference—
	dancing ill-conceived clichés in soporific sunbeams—
it’s a mere curiosity …
 
Words chocked back,
	thoughts lost
		in     the
				labyrinth …

Things My Child Said

It is quite common to kiss 'ouchys' on those wee.
At three, my son asked to have bath autonomy.
I tossed a washcloth, then stood where he could not see.
Soon, he called out with words that completely shook me,
"Mom, it washed red and sore, please come kiss my pee-pee."

Shopping, strolling him down the grocery store aisle
where female hygiene products are sorted in piles,
my son, age four, earnestly said, "When I'm grown, I'll
buy all these things with flowers on them for my wife."
His words styled a smile in me that would last for life.

I used mild-applied wooden spoons for mood anchors.
This set me up for disgust from food cart flankers
when my son yelled, "Look Mom, a hole bag of spankers."
My child, four, eyed that, not the shelved Power Rangers?
I hoped no one would report child welfare dangers.

Once, when a minister summed up his sermon's span
asking "Who's the greatest force in the universe?",
my son, at five, stood up with some dramatic plan.
Lifting his toy hero as high as small ones can,
he enthusiastically declared, "Batman!"

Thoughts of vacation, developed my fav word pearl,
"How many times do I wake up before Disney World?"

Planes

"Planes" 

Sea planes cross my vision 
the bridge gleams 
in all its shining golden splendour

laughing at me 
cajoling the dream
like I'm on an abstract mission

I paint the canvas in words dripping honey
amber coloured cashmere strokes softly brushing satin skin 
over you dappled deep waters and your silvery shadows

recalling 
the sensual shape of love 
incorporal, velvet warm, flowing 

in all its stars and planets

turquoise spills over you 
the depth of a cool plunge
you watch on

I am treading water 
an Opera in front of me
monsters underneath me 

the feeling of silky fins
sandpaper grazes 
the terror shelved in the forgotten 

your bright smile bleeds
burning hot into me
calling me back in,

like the Sun;

somewhere underneath,
the monsters circling
watch on



Candide Diderot. ‘25 





"She said, "The battle's almost won
And we're only several miles from the Sun"

The cruelties of arla

Keeping some cows away from sunlight.' Giving highly
Un-organic products to the animals as foodstuffs which
They had no means of refusing' causing the premature
Deaths of cows involved in said experiment.' While millenia
Of ( living history ) was on hand to reffer to on the best
Practice in animal care and care for human consumption
i beleive a r l a has now shelved its poisionus pilot trial.?
YET GOOD BYE AS I WANT TO SEE AN END TO YOUR
COMPANY AS SOON AS RIGHT NOW..! As readers may
Gather I am no longer a customer of the above
Anagram.

Like A Bone Beach - 2012

The highlights of the Jersey Shore
   like a bone beach, they were no more
along with the loved Ferris Wheel
   that kids looked forward to with zeal.

The sounds of music, loud and clear
   along the boardwalk, all would hear,
and to the Wheel, the kids would run;
   for generations- had such fun.

Most kids and grandkids knew the thrill-
   that Wheel spun round- was never still.
Until one day, Two-Thousand-Twelve,
   the old-time joys would then be shelved.

When "Sandy Superstorm" arrived
   not much within the park survived.
The sound of kids and music stopped-
   with roars of wind and sea were swapped.

The howls of wind did make their rounds,
   replacing joyous, happy sounds; 
made a bone beach of storm debris-
   that moaned and groaned for all to see.

This famous park's old Ferris Wheel
   that kids looked forward to with zeal
the highlights of the Jersey Shore-
   like a bone beach- they were no more.

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