Short Pitying Poems

i’m good when ok
       and ok when not too sad
            who cares anyway 
         how I feel about today 
    this tanka makes me look bad
           

By
David Kavanagh...

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He, alone, within our orbit
Might one call Rabbit, 
Having picked up Rabbit’s Habit
And Rabbit’s Smell does emit
Without pitying limit…
A Rabbit on merit!
Earning The -More -Than -A -Credit!

For watching him at it 
Your bank account debit
At least a little bit
For your face that shall be lit
And, laughing, end in a pit....

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Soul-freedom*

joyous, peace-filled

ministering, sharing, leading

liberty, growth; deprivation, fearfulness

doubting, blaming, self-pitying

restless, broken-hearted

Guilt-imprisonment.

*Romans 6:22 But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.

June 9, 2019...

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My feelings often
Change mercurially,
From happily smiling
To superficial self-pitying.

My beliefs once
Perplexingly flipped-around,
Deconstructing from certain faith
Into reluctant doubt.

My thoughts always
Lack boundaries,
Ranging from average simplicity
To dramatic philosophy.

My ways of thinking are
Essences of my personality,
Developing from birth
Into metamorphosis of my identity....

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I wanted this 
How'd the problems arise?
She sits there with sadness
In those forlorn eyes
But it's not really sadness that I see
What she's actually doing is pitying me
They move to the wall
I sit there in inexplicable shame
Waiting for those damn eyes to look at me again
Those loves gone eyes, wastelands
Floor, door and then the ceiling
Then back to me again, that sick stomach feeling

I gotta go....

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In my mind
Rushes and chaos are the cover of my daylight,
Sculptured hope is nothing but mirages and haunted me for years,

In my mind
All hustle and bustle when calmed down
At midnight with the burning candle
My obsessed shadow walked out in wander
From afar watch ghosts play
And pitying me
Because my soul is weary

In my mind
Yearned for a knock in the door
House filled with the scent of sweet litchis
And a love to return....

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Each one with his calvary

Or with his treasure,

blessed or helpless,

Conquerors or conquered,

Wealth and Evil

in every human being...

Each with a charming smile !

It's the same smile that disdains,
The hand that strokes is the same that stones...

With pitying eyes

or with a merciless look.

However, no one is fully

Correctly or completely sane —

To each his share

And the load he can carry.
So since the world is world...!...

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Things before our sight
We did not realize true value
Shadow when realized us
Beam enters eye to continue

Say: Not salvation pitying
Loss of wings mid-day
It has become dream to flying
Is the truth, to wind?

Seagulls cordial
Beautiful roses in grove
 Mothers to subsequent 
Face your father always bright

Who loss of his father
Tasted bitterness of existence
He lived alone with fullness of the universe
Would offset tremulous
Way episode to append...

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Many are pitying the guy,
Because one cannot new life buy:
Bingo had on his groin pounced 
And got him-Meanest Foe-trounced!
Vet had Needle and Syringe shown Dog
And what he got worse than struck log:
To Bingo’s Canines job to do
“And don’t first ask your Victim ‘Who’?”

Many are afraid Vet will die
And have begun to say “Mute Bye.”
A Miscalculating Vet - Fie!
For him I could only once sigh:
Had in Dog’s food dropped a long sleep
But too quick to The Sown to reap!...

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we tried time

for many of our own discrepancies
there is not enough we bellowed
from cave to condominium
grabbed disrespectfully its minutest
portion and dragged it to court.

there is the job lined up, 
on the line or maybe in line 
the latest craze to master
 
the kinder need camp
planning for the future 
and must keep up with those Jones
whom ever they may be
no one has ever found them, yet.

untouched time moved on
as it always will
pitying we poor folks....

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The fiddler was having hard times
Despite his sorrows, he began to play.
Some crossed the street.
Others gave him pitying looks.

The fiddler kept fiddling.
It is what fiddlers do.
A little girl with music in her soul came by.
She threw back her head and threw out her arms.

The fiddler began fiddling faster and faster.
Bluegrass music, which spoke to his soul.
The child danced and danced.
Others saw, and ran up to dance too.

A little child shall lead you, the fiddler thought....

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