Short Against The Grain Poems

words spill from my pen
meaningless gibberish all
brownies scent the air...

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crust crunchy
snowshoeing single file
against the grain



posted on August 8, 2018...

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Sabbath day
hands rub against plucked grain heads
watchful foe

-Inspired by Luke 6:1-11-
12-21-13...

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An excited priest on the train
Was found rubbing against the grain
"You need a giraffe
To service that staff"
Some Sisters laughed in refrain...

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A delicate balance to maintain
    He carves out his position against the grain

  Spurning extremes, clinging to the center
    Scorned by all, ridiculed forever...

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Lessons in life are not always easy to follow
Sometimes go against the grain, in pity we wallow
Then it all becomes clear
We get knocked on our rear
Hiding in plain sight, truth can be hard to swallow...

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Sometimes
you have
to take a stand
that does not conform
with the norms
of the day
You plant your flag,
fight for your beliefs
even when they go
against the grain,
cause Angst,
transcend the reality
that is being
forced upon you.
You will foster change
in this endeavor
which is vital
to the survival
of your inner being....

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My life fell apart 
Pockets empty
Cloths old and torn 
Time in normality is over
Do i really want this 
Times come to find a little bliss

Everyone against the grain
Your closing in
Never had the chance to win
I hear what is wished to be said
Its time to be free

Free to move
Free to run
Free to go where we like
Free to slip out of site
Free to die ! ....

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Finger nails against the grain.
The blood spreads and begins to stain.
Red and white.
The night begins to escalade.
Empty answers to the wrongly played.
Black and blue.
The bruises grow.
Answering to cliffs below.
Grey and green.
Infections of an earlier decade.
My soul, I ask you to trade.
Orange and violet.
Colors that do not show.
When your answers glow....

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Simple is not vain
Succinct said most plain


Bluntly paid in pain
Will joy come again?


A deep cut bleeds blood
Rush of a red flood


Pain tells not so plain
Cuts against the grain


How can soul emerge
From the stabs that surge?


Can pain go away
As I turn to play?


Succinct tears in vain
Loiter with more pain




Leon Enriquez
10 April 2019
Singapore...

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Life would be a whole lot better
If I weren’t such a fretter.
Yet, that’s just my worried way;
I guess it’s in my DNA.

I wish I could be less uptight
And trust all that will be all right
But worry worms its way inside
And somehow it gets magnified.

To let things slide, it’s very plain,
For me would go against the grain
So what I do, which I regret,
Is agonize and fret, fret, fret!...

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1:00am
This time, on a deep dented
Pillow, lies tears
From smashing and thrashing
Against the grain.

I fear most the window chimes,
Sounding more and more like chains
On glass. (Fingernails ripped out)
The ghost here reads real.

Drenched blackbirds are scurrying
From the recent storm; feathers their murk
In my head. The thing is: I have them by 
Their wings— (switch over to bed)....

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Oh, do tell what's on your Mind;
Art thou weary of my rhymes?
The only thing that I can do-
The only form that's truly true-
Against the grain to rub then grind?

A nip of whisky... I am fine;
It will kill me in due time.
I smoke and smoke-
My lungs are choked-
The drugs are finer than your wines!

Long I feel so left behind;
Oh, dear Lord! Give me a sign!
How New the Year-
Abandon Fears-
That "One Trick Pony" isn't mine!...

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A lion bites a lamb only for a crow to squack out how dare the lamb scream, disgusting reality, feels like a dream,a nightmare,a haze, this is the chaos that occurs in the field they say, rats hide in buses and watch the debacle unfold afraid that the crow will swoop them up and The Lion Will bite them too ,they quietly follow the wind of lies and injustice by co-signing with the sickness,instead of going against the grain, world is shame...

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If there were no poetry
A kiss would be just a kiss without
My lovely blossoms blooming on 
Cue  to reminsce.  A thought  would 
Have no sound.
Without a convincing poetic rhyme.
And  a rhyme would be only a rhyme
Without its  SHINE..
What a misery that would be
I'd  fight against the grain
I'd go down swinging,  
My fists CLENCHED against the pain. 
CLOUDS withoutthe SUN, THEN THE
RAIN.
NO  true  RAINBOW SONGS instead 
The  SHAME....

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Saturday slings into Sunday 
with a serious slow down in attitude.
Sermons on the ethics of sinning 
are found in the NY Times magazine section,
and the arrogance of one celebrating
the finished puzzle on 300 count sheets 
on the Lord’s day is as much a lie of conscious 
as tea and a bagel taken in communion 
with the misery of undesired solitude. How righteous 
is reality when it washes against the grain 
of heart baptized to love in real time?...

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Here’s an observation that
You might consider funny – 
If the weathermen predicted certain rain,
Many might be disappointed if
It turns out being sunny,
Though such disappointment 
Goes against the grain.

For most welcome brighter days
To lift the spirits needing boosting
As opposed to those where clouds bring thoughts of gloom,
But for folks who lately feel
They’re better off indoors, just roosting,
There’s a preference
To stay inside the womb....

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By nature, we are takers
  Giving goes against our grain
Yet if we stop to think about it
  The truth is very plain

God gives us hands to help
  A head and heart to care
He also gives us what we need
  So that with others we will share

The more we give, the more we get
  Sure God will increase our means
To feed and clothe all those in need
  ~ Best done behind the scenes




        September 23, 2020
        Givers Poetry Contest
      Sponsor: Regina McIntosh...

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