Never deflect your truth for
Borrowed eyes
Every choice you make is
Paid in life-wise
Voices' conversation is loud but never
Lived your grind
Expect no chorus when you
Discipline your own mind
Root your steps in what feels
Justified
Justify nothing- your spirit is
Enough
Under your skin lives the
Tangible tough stuff
Silence is power when the
World wants evidence
Trust your path even when it
Feels standoffish
Inside your calm sits the
Truest truism
Fear evaporates when you
Stand uncuffed
Your choices don't need a
Magistrate
Anger is boundaries finally
Speaking
No weakening to keep
The peace in
Growth hits harder when you
Stop tweaking
Energy saved is energy boosting
Respect your fire without
Deteriorating
Defend nothing- your life ain't a
Trial
Every lesson earned came with
Its own distance
Faith in yourself stays flexible
Open only to those who understand
Ignore the pressure to defend
Carry your calm like a trusted
Companion
Every step you take soars
Stay aligned with divinity's will
Some landmarks are bugging me.
I zigzag.
Centered in this car is an air freshener.
Which I almost listen to as well.
Some landmarks are road signs, or traffic lights.
I’m creative.
The GPS reminds me of turns.
The struggle to make a visual map.
Makes me so embarrassed that I would rather burrow an underground tunnel to get places.
Some landmarks are rotted away for the time being.
That rock with spray paint.
I’m bad with directions.
I’m standoffish as a GPS.
I watch for the clock tower.
Calls in all directions.
Tells me it’s 1:00 pm.
I could climb that tower to look down.
And still not understand the way home.
in the group of dewdrops which crystallize loose boundedness
whose coercive force is unmatched among standoffish streets
we maintain the latent misgivings about our absence
four ballerina beauties took a stroll
searching for a tutu they could all agree on
no one appeared to notice their beauty
not a surprise…
standoffish New York city dwellers
We had heard of the Queen of Merryland for weeks and weeks.
Everyone wanted to see her, our imagination in high rising peaks.
She came in with an entourage, and we stopped being excited.
She looked persnickety, pinched, angry cheekbones highlighted.
How can she be the Queen of Merryland? My friend swiftly asked me.
Look at her standoffish-ness, which frankly, any dumbbell can see.
I have one idea, I said, it is the one I think which you will have to agree.
She was born into it, the daughter of a King who was not at all merry.
Questions I often questioned myself, It's not a lack of one's faith
yet it's the concerns and matters demonstrated by accounts from
people. Questions
I often interrogate myself about who, what, when, where, why, and how.
Uncertainties, hesitations, battles how I was dealt the hands of these
cards. Questions
No, I'm not standoffish, hostile, or even antagonistic I'm safeguarding
and waterproofing my mental state of mind from people, places and
situations. Questions
Alternatives, routes are taken to turn back from dark alleys, friendly
faces lurking to bring naught to dim one's light. Questions
Acceptance of oneself character healing on a daily journey in nature
of self importance attentively. Questions
Murmurs and mumbles
are sounds mimpathic.
Uttered with sympathetic feelings,
but without the guttural loud utterings
that empathy with heart-felt solidarity
and compassion demands.
Mimpathy falls short of full-throated emotional support.
Mimpathy is standoffish aloof and half-hearted.
Murmurings with mimpathy
are rather pathetic.
He was in love, deep, romantic love.
She was standoffish, aloof, above,
no need for pointless ideas thereof.
It was forbidden, like fox and dove.
His clay a gritty earthy mixture.
Hers a sweet creamy marble picture
of comfort, a permanent fixture.
His secret love a proscribed stricture.
So he sat at her feet each long day
writing the love words he could not say.
He greatly feared from her side to stray
lest someone come and take her away.
He searched for the same magic by night
that brought him to life and gave him sight.
Hoping that her stone wings would take flight
and sweep them from this piteous plight.
Kids and dogs tend to like me.
The kids because they sense
I haven’t grown up yet,
The dogs sniffing the essence
Of a long-lost puppy inside.
Adults seem to be more standoffish
Probably put off by my lingering puppy grin.
Eventually we find a common ground
As I have been defined as “an acquired taste”.
And cats, self-centered as they are
Often seek my counsel (aka treats)
Sprawl before me in feigned submission
Purring, as cats do, in conquest.
©10/23/2022
Our innate magnetism Poetry Contest
We revere our gorgeous snow queen
She wears her ethereal regalia with purpose
Many people shy away, totally intimidated
It is snow queen’s plan, for her heart is fragile
She has been terribly hurt; you can tell by her eyes.
She is now purposefully frosty and standoffish,
So people will not take advantage of her giving nature.
Snow queen is hoping to never have her heart broken again
Not only by lovers, but by acquaintances and colleagues
Who take advantage of a woman who is generous and kind
Snow queen’s family and best friends see past her façade.
Sad, but understanding why she has had to build walls of ice,
She forms a glistening sight, enhancing winter’s diamond-like aura.
Snow queen wears her frostiness with jewelry like majesty.
Keeping her heart safe, so no one can hurt her any more.
The sign on the cage read "CAUTION"
I thought, "hmmm..
"wonder who that belongs too?"
The receptionist seemed a bit cool
almost standoffish.
I paid the bill and asked
"so where's my kitty?"
She pointed at the caution cage
and said in a growly tone
"OVER THERE."
"The doctor says he'd appreciate it
if you didn't bring "tiger" in again."
It was "tiger's" first (and last) visit.
He was a little ball of orange fur
with A T T I T U D E....
He aged like a jalapeno pepper
growing hot with a little bite.
As my kitty grew
so did the size of the cage
and the size of the CAUTION sign.
He had a few "good" days.
One in 1998, the other in 2005.
I believe he was the reincarnation
of a serial killer.
If there's a heaven for cats
he's probably the bouncer.
John G. Lawless
8/18/2020
Don’t judge me;
I know I appeared
to be so
standoffish.
You pursued me
for a long time.
You greeted me
every day when
I came to your
coffee shop.
Sometimes you
wanted to give me
the coffee for
free.
I declined every
time.
You tried to give
me roses,
But I didn’t accept
them.
One day you just
stopped abruptly.
However, you
didn’t know that
I was secretly in-
love with you.
And my wall was
about to come
crashing down.
Listen, I was just
guarding my heart.
As I child I used to
be overweight.
I got bullied a lot.
I had no friends .
As I got older I
got in shape, I ate
healthier and I
joined a gym.
I am now a fitness
instructor, and I
own a couple of
gyms.
On the outside I’m
a knockout,
Open the book and
turn the page.
You will see I’m still
the little overweight
girl that’s madly
in love with you.
I guess the old saying
is true “ Don’t Judge A
Book By It’s Cover”
2-15-2020
Alexis Y.
a negative aura
exudes from within
a standoffish shell
of arrogance
floating away
on a swelled headed
hot air balloon ride
into the conceited skies
far and wide to never
grace the humbled town again
Now We Stand And Sulk
We were the two
standoffish
in a small pond.
One day,
how I wished
we got carried away,
to a rubbing
of our fins and bellies,
so fond.
Life would have smiled on good fate,
a favorable life,
how my eyes belay.
Instead gloom frowned on and on,
off and off,
over and over.
At worst it brought me to her,
lost and lost.
When we did get carried away,
on a magic carpet,
to aquarium land,
our tails touched briefly
to her indifference.
Bubbles shot to the surface,
hers,
big round ones,
made just for me.
I looked at her puffing lips,
bad,
"I hate you."
I look back,
my puffing lips,
bubbling,
to no effect,
"asking why."
She raced away.
See I told you.
Our life now a crayon box
of pebbles, plastic seaweed,
my votive candles,
and unanswered prayers,
inside a glass box,
us,
swimming inharmonious.
Yet we're petted,
externally,
and not internally
to the puzzlement
of onlookers and me.
Each day passing by,
the two standoffish,
each immune,
to sitting together.
connie pachecho
2/16/18
Beware those who are not,
A little bit bias.
Or a little bit pious.
A little bit selfish,
Or a little bit standoffish.
A little bit sexist,
Or a little bit racist.
A Little bit forlorn,
Or little bit stubborn.
A little bit lazy,
Or a little bit crazy.
Beware those who are not,
A bit of a risk taker,
Or a Muck-raker.
A bit of a snob,
Or a hard case when on the job.
A bit of a joker,
Or a gambler.
A bit of a blower of trumpets,
Or a layer of red carpets.
A bit of a liar,
Or a Town Cryer.
Beware those who are not a little bit,
They will be hard to please,
Whenever there is even a little breeze.
Which makes it hard for them to care a jot,
Every time they lose the plot.
They will never cause just a little harm,
If they decide to leave the farm
And shoulder arms,
Without any qualms.
The next time you meet anyone who admits to being a little bit,
Don't throw a fit,
Just help them be a little less,
And give them a god bless.
You won't have to worry about them even throwing a little fit,
As you take a little nip
In honour of your new friendship,
When you too admit to being a little bit,
Of a misfit.
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