Inside a frozen moment you wait
the door ajar
as if to capture the faintest echo
of footfall
the mirror scrutinizing that empty space
on the couch
my reflection endlessly snared
in mute counterpoint.
young man with an employee badge sits in chair next to me
we are not two feet away from each other
I try to make eye contact, but he never looks up from his phone
There would have been a time when we would have made eye contact
Said “hi”
maybe smiled
those days are gone
Hospitality has been thrown into a ditch and buried
There would have been a time when we would have said “hi”
Gotten to know a bit about each other.
Discussed possible common neighbors, friends and relatives.
This is small town Iowa.
It used to be what small town Iowans did.
It was expected.
Not anymore.
Thrown away after years of service, time reduced by judges refusing to acknowledge years of time and work.
Thrown away and forced to spend money to prove life facts that are clear and apparent.
Thrown away in a divorce, reduced time of marriage, causing loss of money, loss of children, and more, can happen when judges refuse to acknowledge the facts.
Thrown away happens to many, it happens after years of service at work, years of service to a group, years of service in a marriage, just to mention a few.
Thrown away and mistreated should never happen, respect and love, and truth should always be given.
Thrown aways can happen in many ways so be aware and take care.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
You can’t recall the stone,
Once it’s thrown
Emitted harsh words, can’t be defused
And Time spent, can not be reused.
I am thrown
You threw me down,
Back to the ground
While you frown,
Face round.
You say your sad,
But your just my dad
Who leaves me to me mad,
When I only wanted my dad.
Why did you throw me way like the others,
To carry on with another
Just for them to get thrown again,
And you to fake emotion all over again.
I’m thrown
J-oy
E-nds
W-oes,
E-ndorsing
R-emarkable
M-irth,
A-s
E-mptiness
N-ever
A-ttacks
I-nside
R-ight
A-way
©bfa051725
Monocrostic (Birthday of Jewermae Naira)
Of ocean’s roar, dark tales are told
Of swimmers dragged into its fold
Incautious choices, foolish-bold
Ne’er seen again, their bells have tolled
Of hairpin turns on mountain roads
Huge semis bid farewell to loads
Then likely starts an avalanche
Once boulders fall, they can’t be stanched
When life’s not valued, thrown away
To God we turn and fervent pray
~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
In a world of chaos and confusion, discombobulation reigns,
Thoughts tangled like a web, where clarity wanes.
Lost in a maze of jumbled thoughts and emotions,
Seeking peace amidst the disarray and commotions.
But amidst the discombobulation, a glimmer of hope appears,
A chance to untangle the knots and conquer the fears.
Through introspection and a steady mind's navigation,
Finding peace in the midst of this discombobulation.
So let us embrace the disarray, for it holds a hidden key,
To unlock the potential within, to set our spirits free.
In the dance of chaos and order, we find our way,
To a place of understanding, where discombobulation may sway.
It seems nothing is ever lost
but is transmuted, returns
to another state
or resurrects
into something new.
Take thoughts thrown from
a pier into the dark
water lapping below.
They make no sound
as they sink, resigned
to their fate,
becoming whispery filaments
of what had been
spectral inhabitants
of the head.
Long threads rise
to the surface and float
free to catch the moonlight,
becoming strands of silver
drifting off on an outgoing tide.
Where they go
nobody knows although
they are more than
what they seem,
webs set to catch
a passing soul and weave
a lovely face
into the tapestry
of a dream.
the rusty necklace
which was thrown into the sea
the wilted roses
that lose the petals each day
the torn bouquet wrapper
in the dustbin
a dusty photo
at the bottom of the pile
the foolish dreams
that had broken
the song lyrics
which all sound the same
stuck in an hourglass
so far ahead
at the end,
everything will be forgotten
it doesn't matter
you do you
grow up and start anew
You can’t get it from table of dice:
Your planned riches and Earth’s paradise
When you win some heart you simply slice:
The no-more-sure of eating served rice,
On folk’s dining tables eyes of mice:
To “Friend, come and join us” “Oh! That’s nice.”
So, do release the pressure on dice,
Your keen interest in throws minimize,
Or one day you win and someone dies,
Or fail a hoped luncheon of fried rice,
Family starving plus kitchen mice…
Paradise not from dice thrown and won twice,
Peace of mind not from one thrown and won thrice;
Bad News a dice thrown and one paid sad price.
Slip all batty zing ump ash
Flip ball catty bing bump bash
Clip doll fatty ding dump dash
Sip caul hatty bring chump crash
I stare at the speaker, wishing I knew what to do or say
Hip haul natty ping grump hash
Quip mall ratty ping grump rash
Strip paul slatty string stump slash
I hear the words but they make no sense
For I do not know the language or understand
My parents threw me into full immersion school
Where I do not speak the language in any form...
I do not understand, and I doubt I ever will.
Past the salad fields of green,
With ciders flowing in between,
An island sits though out a-ways,
Of candy from the holidays.
They’re thrown away and tossed aside,
Without a bite or even tried,
So past the days of fresher primes,
They cry about forgotten times.
The candy corn all in a heap,
Continue on to slowly weep,
Passed over for a candy bar,
To sit untouched inside a jar.
And next to them, the tootsie rolls,
Were pushed aside in candy bowls,
They sob next to the candy canes,
Who watched alone the Christmas trains.
Just look who’s sitting by the docks,
A full but lonely chocolate box,
Who never shared dessert with wine,
Or eaten by a Valentine.
The hollowed bunnies hop around,
The jelly beans upon the ground,
But stuck among a larger mass,
Of artificial Easter grass.
They weep and think about the day,
And time that they were thrown away,
As now it’s here they sadly roam,
Their misfit candy island home.
The agon of a love thrown out, debased,
Doth wound as deep as deeply ever could
It cuts across the veins in my pump based
And turns my heartfelt words to dull, dry wood.
It is a blinding shadow hid in wit
That thinks, by wit that it cannot be seen,
A diamond rose, and silver leaf – on it,
A gold acorn; these three are yet too mean
To offer to the lady of my heart,
Or yet, to win her favor for my helm,
Or yet, to seal my hope against her dart,
Enough! For her, the finest in the realm!
Doth not suffice, nor will, my noble friend.
But you shall love her to the bitter end.
There is a boy called Rick
who who took to hurling; with bricks'
He let loose with a low'un,
It looked like it was throw'un
And knocked pastor down into the c'rick.'
The pastor fell backward right in'
He never, had learn't quite how to swim'
He sat on his behind,
and thought wasThis a sign,
that some heathen Had targeted him?
He attempted to climb up the bank
Thinking I'd better try stopping this crank'
As he got to the top,
a girt blooming rock'
Hit him straight in the chapter and verse
Some money spilled out of that purse,
Not too thrilled And now feeling much worse,
He let out a prayer
Asking everyone there
If there was a nearby; district nurse?
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