Short Bemoaning Poems

we walk alone
fate bemoaning
dethrone ego...

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Through hazy mirrors
A doxy appears to be doused
Within suicide languages
Hips bemoaning white filigrees
Caressed by a famine of beatitude
designed to elicit tragedy...

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blub blue big blazing
bedazzling boisterous
brilliant beacon

bright beaming blinding
blustered bloated behemoth
bang banished

brighten bloom beckons
behind black basin
bemoaning...

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bemoaning I drown
ebony triumphs your gold-
such a strong soul, yet
weakened by lamentation-
the taste of salt still  l i n g e r s…


Lament Contest
Sponsor: Rick Parise

Date Written: September 25, 2016...

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Three in the morning and again I dream
of waves and windblown sails, driving us on.
A petulant ocean, its mood would seem 
somehow to echo mine, awaiting dawn.
Tossing and turning, creaking and groaning,
it’s an old man’s bones I hear, bemoaning....

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Three in the morning, and again I dream
Of waves and windblown sails, driving us on.
A petulant ocean, its mood would seem 
Somehow to echo mine, awaiting dawn.
Tossing and turning, creaking and groaning,
It's an old man's bones I hear, bemoaning....

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hello
                        meet, welcome, 
          waving, applauding, beckoning
howdy-do, pleasantries, sendoff, sayonara
          forsaking, bemoaning, grieving
                        heartfelt, teary
                             goodbye



Date written: 02/21/2023...

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Pain persists within my Mind, Body and Spirit
is very insensitive  and incessantly, lingering thinking it has discontinued  then this excruciating pops up compelling distress, bemoaning,  pain enraputuring one's emotions 
Grace and Mericfulness calling your names for those pain to cease ....

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Reflection

Staggering out of the maze
his mind still swaggers
Mustering up his wit
he shored up his faith
Sulking his present state
he craves this cringing hope
Bemoaning the looming darkness 
he detest this fate 
Yearning for a reprieve
he is caught 
napping on the trail 


...

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The “Christmas Freeze” of ’83 left Mom’s prize Oleander wilted
Bemoaning its demise, her heart gave way in the backyard
Irony cast its spell in spring and revived the Oleander...
    If only it could have done the same for Mom




*July 26, 2020
For Constance La France’s “Four Lines Poetry Contest”...

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In that moonlit night, 
A nude picture hangout bares
My bemoaning eyes, 
Showing raindrops. 
Soul searching eyes, 
Picking flowers and drinking wines
Haunt me in the valleys of dreams, 
Images that last forever. 
Ripples of beer in thin air, 
I squandered my time. 
Ever the same, 
In that blue horizon
I'll search and wait....

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Hay the frog was pondering with strife
How would he justify living his life?
Would he be remembered even by his wife?
His heart felt as heavy as a butter knife.

Hay would not hop, croak or sing.
He was stuck on rewind, the poor thing.
Bemoaning his choices, like a ding-a-ling.
His friends rolled their eyes at the Debbie downer king....

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If this be the end
If this be the total sum of everything 
Who am I to shun the majority of it
Would I not be better served throwing my all into it
I admit I am torn
But if the only pleasure I take
Is bemoaning and placing scorn
Then grumpy is as grumpy as me
When life is like a box of chocolate's 
With the chocolate sucked clean off...

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lovely maiden will never be any prettier
twenty-six, the age of the most beautiful
she has no idea how lovely she is
when she is seventy she will look back

thinking how crazy it was to focus on flaws
freckle on her wrist, bump on her ring finger
bemoaning her weight thinking she is heavy
she will gasp at photos of herself at twenty-six...

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Exuberance of agile seagulls
Flying with utmost ease and grace
Gliding to the tune of autumn’s wind...
Here, standing on the edge of the cliff
I look with envy, bemoaning my limitations. 

---------------------------------------
Contest: “Let’s Do Some Alphabet”
Sponsored by Sara Kendrick
Placed 1st
© 5th October 2017...

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4 a.m.
Yesterday I was bemoaning about
Not getting up early any more.
Okay Spirit Guides.
You did it.
Thank you.
This is certainly early enough.
I do my best writing in
The early hours.
GIANT yawn
I crawl back
Into bed,
And go
Right to
Sleep
The dream
Stops abruptly.
I open my eyes
Mystified.
Not recognizing
This world.
It’s too late
To write now....

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Heretic
your breath reeks
of brimstones ash
quenched with the blood
of martyred dreams.

I heard
hopes dying scream
as it burned alive
consumed by the flames
of your firey speech.

And now
you turn to me
lost Shepard
bemoaning the world's inability
to see your virtues.

I say
return false prophet
unto your true master 
spare me
your tainted sermons....

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A thin faded smile 
Settled on the face
Adjusting just to await fate
Crumpled within 
Hacked in between
Burdened inward
Humbled by fate  
Yet all tinted up
Crested with that defiant smile 
Gentling gulping down fate
Bemoaning the fiery flames
Razing with rage
A once serene mind
Now huffing smoking sighs
All with a straight face
While Tinkling with the plain minded...

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Two Bees or Not To Be

Bumble bees buzz busily 
In Betty’s big back yard
Balmy breezes blow in from the bay
Beautiful the butterflies 
That flutter here and there
Bluebells and begonias gently sway.


Beyond the far horizon
Below the setting sun
Bobbing boats upon the water blue
And far above the seagulls soar
Bemoaning with their cries 
Two inconsequential mortals,
Me and you
...

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A man’s apartment is airily roomy
But wears he a face real gloomy …

Soon, I find out his eyes are rheumy 
And he thinks he got them through me!

Lousy Guy! My eyes for long not rheumy;
Two years now they to overseas flew me …

And with rheumy eyes in a shelter roomy
One should a reason find to be not gloomy,
Unless issues too has about one’s tummy 
Or bemoaning a perception as Dummy....

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I Watched TV last night

a musical special--

not one
of the young singers
had taken time
to learn proper breathing,

to smoothly exhale vowels

crimp the consonants

unlike even the basic cable guy
executing wire

relieved at least
they are not physicians
at my throat--

pools of blood
wail the mystics
bemoaning the letting

intimately knowing
our relationship
to Spirit Divine....

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Everyone has aches and pains
When getting older; who complains
Depends, at times, on who refrains
From doing all the kvetching.*

For any sympathy one gains
May dwindle if attention wanes
With every detail one explains,
The story always stretching.

Each bemoaning thus unchains
Annoyance as one’s patience drains
Although what hopefully remains
Is empathy worth fetching.

*Yiddish word for complaining...

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She lost, 
Her babe departed from her.
The quick division
Wounded her, 
Dismayed her.
That deep wound sank her
In the ocean of tears.
She made a mournful cry
When she thought of a life
Without her child.
Her tears dried, 
She was pulled back
From bemoaning, 
Her loss dragged her
To distress.
Then, 
Returned back to the memories
With a heavenly feelings, 
A journey through
The infant's footprint
She recalls, 
The existence of her life, -
memories, with lament....

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I continue to feel
the searing pain. 
ever constant.
so keen.
Not the kind
    that heals fast,
      open wound that closes.
But, the kind that stays vulnerably
       with the passing years.
Three decades 
        and still counting.

Woe to this pain!
With laden anguish, 
The heart's bemoaning.
Thinking it was born
     without a name.
Only to find then
     at a much later time;
giving in.
Oblivious now.
Unashamed
    that my bosom groans,
        complains....

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Lying, cheating, thievery
Were his devils trident
Piercing through an Angel's wings
Leaving her spirit spent

"I know that she could not leave me"
Blinded by self content
Refused to see his hands in things
Never would he repent

Yet Angels heal and then see
Past pretty ornaments
To a future that would always sting
At the point of his trident

Now alone, trident and he
Without love heaven sent
Bemoaning how fate pulled the strings
Blinded by his own contempt...

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