Short Disuse Poems

rusted with disuse
heavy heart hammers in pain ~
spiders build cobwebs




10th January 2023...

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Lamarck’s ‘Theory of Use and Disuse’,
By giraffes seems subjected to misuse.
They learnt the table manners,
Eating through gaps of manors.
This photo of theirs gets million reviews!
...

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Our demand  is to accept the novelty,
         we must recognize
         All things in this world
         has expiration date...
         We must disuse matter
         already worn..
         let's live with this guideline,
         this wisdom......

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Desuetude is a state of disuse.
"The docks fell into desuetude."

Trump In State of Desuetude

Trump would find self  in another feud;
He had fallen into a state of desuetude;
Things worsed;
Were cursed;
We wondered who next will be screwed.

Jim Horn...

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Neap tide rising by minutes
swirls me in upset sand
     gritty
       irritating
         chaffing
catches in creases
of furrowed brow.
 Washed up fodder
gifted from the sea
   adds to my heap
   of disuse.
 Backtracks undent the
   sand
unmarking my passage....

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soft sunflower breath
                                      days of lingering beauty -
                                      hot shines heaven's eye

                                        in shimmering grace
                                    cheerful chirping of crickets -
                                           silver coin disuse...

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As I fly away through broken dreams
The reins pull fiercly at my grip
For everything is not what it seems
As these words pass by mothers lip
She gives me all her words of wise
promises me them I must use
As my journey takes me to the skies
All I have learnt I must now disuse
For all those broken dreams
Were only waiting to be chased
I open my mind to my supreme
Life must not be lived in haste...

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I know you are here
in the stirring of tranquil air
disturbing the dust
awakening despair

why do you wander these pages
in stealth quietude
softly breathing breath
into shadowed solitude?

I know you are here
in these halls of disuse
that clatter and chatter
with long absent muse

why have you come
after years of dead days
to measure my bones
survey the decay?
~~~
I know you have gone now
and left me to be
for the dust settles 'round this
tome of misery...

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