Short Foreseeable Poems

And nothing is not
               un-foreseeable if and unless
                  you at least consider all
                the facts and complications
                              first!



                          GF...

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Even leaning, with fright's hand
In the mouth clenching.
Upsplashed of an unfathomable
Woe, foreseeable.

On edge, more breathless, till
Mind, in giving way
Slime-tentacled, squeezed of whose grasp
For such visions gasp....

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predictable so
just to be so inspectant
only to be expected

only to be expected
par so for the course
so predictable

now foreseeable
able to be predicted
can you see me now

12/7/19
Predictable Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter |...

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Oh Foolish Me

Foreseeable future, 
The curtains are closed 
Today?
Tomorrow?
Who really knows?
But for me to leave here with no words said 
Leaves unspoken thoughts inside of my head 
Unasked questions 
And answers I will never know  
Oh Foolish Me
Oh Foolish Me




Copyright J.M. Dougherty 2016...

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The clouded spectrum of my ambition
Leads me to my shrouded past
An enemy engraved in my foreseeable truth
Haunting the memory of self-deprecation
I long for the abstract freedom of my youth
But instead I face the familiar wall
I pray unto thee to grant me vision
Or thus this troubled soul shall remain still...

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Tattooed feelings deep within the skin 
Branded for the foreseeable future 
The hashtag will remain long after your post is deleted 
The name, picture, and memory of your former lover are still imprinted
What started off as a sure thing--
turned into a jumbled confusion
The scar cannot be hidden, even though the tattoo is removed...

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Why does one write poetry?
To get lost in the solace of words,
to encourage one to look at birds;
or is it something much less communicable:
a state of being, like a look in the eye,
that is unreadable?
We could talk night and day,
about the how and why,
but the only thing that is foreseeable
is the poet coming back again
for the ink and pen....

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The van idles: inside its cage
she hops like a starling
from dashboard to counter.

Lady seer, shuffling the motley,
the significant and trivia.
revealing now, the stamped
and foreseeable.

A flick of her wrists
between each numbered box -
we open that tin mouth,

reach in hesitantly, for bolts out of the blue,
or just news from predicable snails....

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splintered dreams

images faded and torn

with emotions worsening

with time

greatness questioned

as original intent swathed

by gossipy stares create

feelings of dismay

enter doubts of one’s

self-esteem causing

victim like symptoms

with no foreseeable end

to this long and

shadowed

catastrophe

pieces of la-la land

forever falling...

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The van idles: inside its cage
she hops like a grackle
from dashboard to counter.

Lady seer, shuffling the motley,
the significant and trivia.
Not 'all seeing', a Cassandra nevertheless,
revealing the stamped
and foreseeable.

A flick of her wrists
between each numbered box,
and we enter an unread limbo
until we open that tin mouth
reaching for bolts out of the blue,
and delayed news from snails....

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Just when we thought that we had it licked
   the wily little bug licked us back

Just when we thought we had it beat
   the stubborn virus beat us back

Just when we thought we could open the country up
   we have to close parts of it down again

Can we get things right now
   and for the foreseeable future:

Wear your mask -- Watch your distance -- Wash your hands
   C'mon, America!  You need to do better!  Much better!
      It's a matter of Life or Breath......

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