"admonished" poems
When I was just a little girl,
And as little girls were taught then,
I played with dolls and a teaset,
Made mudcakes for food,
Wore skirts, made my hair into ponytails as I was let.
I saw the boys with the abandon which comes with free wear and play,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was older, a teen
and as teen girls were taught then,
Walk, talk, rock softly
Don’t draw too much attention
Or attempt to explore too much.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom to play, sit, be as they want ,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was sixteen, oh sweet sixteen,
And as sixteen year old girls were taught then,
Don’t wear clothes that show your frame,
That’s indecent and you will be in another home and will incur alot of blame.
Don’t wander, argue, or express an opinion,
You’re a girl, being humble, quiet and gentle becomes you.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom of movement and speech,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was older, and passionately sought a particular career,
I was admonished as many other girls in my time,
It’s not a career for women, late nights, more men to be around,
When you get married, that’s not going to work and troubles will abound.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with the freedom of pursuing their dreams,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was married, and setting a home, working and raising a family,
I left my work as many other girls in my time,
For my husband to follow his work path,
Unquestioningly, unflinchingly, resolutely.
I saw the men then with the abandon which comes with freedom of being in control of their lives,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
But this is just the surface of my questioning being a girl,
When boys and men around tried their stunts on girls and women,
I questioned my existence.
When many girls and women I know,
Were told to stay mum on men close who took advantage of them
I questioned my existence.
When In the workspace,
Women got paid less than men because their salary were subtly looked at as secondary salaries,
Or needed to speak louder to be heard,
I questioned my existence.
When the onus of keeping a relationship working was the woman’s responsibility largely,
I questioned my existence.
When a woman got hit by her spouse,
Its she who may have provoked him.
When a man strayed,
Its she who was not a good enough wife that he had to look elsewhere.
I questioned my existence.
The atrocities many men are capable of,
The filth many men spread,
**** hate, aggression, manipulation and more
Abuse, gaslighting inside closed doors,
Wearing a mask of sophistication outside
Animalistic and entitled beings to the core.
My apologies to men who are not,
And I know some,
But they are but a handful,
Too insignificant in the larger way the world works.
But then I see me,
A harbinger of change,
In my home and around.
Raising my son differently,
Advocating for change purposively,
Actioning resolutely what’s right,
Woman for women with all my might.
I see so many more women now who retain their selves and are beacons of hope,
They don’t sit around and just mope.
And I am glad I am a girl,
And I question no more,
I question no more.
Feb 16, 2020
Feb 16, 2020 at 4:28 AM UTC
1748
The reticent volcano keeps
His never slumbering plan—
Confided are his projects pink
To no precarious man.
If nature will not tell the tale
Jehovah told to her
Can human nature not survive
Without a listener?
Admonished by her buckled lips
Let every babbler be
The only secret people keep
Is Immortality.
12.9k
Bravery
I thought I was brave
with the scars to prove it.
My legacy -
broken bones, split knuckles,
black eyes and loose teeth.
Adulation and respect.
I fought both man and isms
Never backed down.
But a black man, driving
an Uber taught me the truth of
true bravery.
Harassed, insulted, threatened by
a low-life passenger,
white racism covered in a cheap suit and tie,
he refused to take the bait.
He denied himself the pleasure of
justified violence.
He told me his story -
and anger for him, righteous indignation,
crashed over me in furious waves.
I admonished him for not
confronting that mans ignorance
with a closed and determined fist.
Never back down, right?
Gently, he spoke the truth of
black men in America.
His eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror.
You, he said, are innocent until proven guilty.
Protected by a system that
oppresses me.
I am guilty - period - and would be lucky
to be arrested, not killed,
in a confrontation with that bigot.
So he did nothing, let the swine in a tie
off at his destination,
and drove on - leaving that pig to
wallow in his hate.
His bravery earned him nothing.
No adulation. No respect. No recognition.
Nothing except another day of life.
Another day with his family.
In contrast - my lifetime of bravery.
A pale reflection, when set beside his truth.
He was brave, not I.
My self-styled bravery, forever
tainted
by my privilege.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
When shall we learn, what should be clear as day,
We cannot choose what we are free to love?
Although the mouse we banished yesterday
Is an enraged rhinoceros today,
Our value is more threatened than we know:
Shabby objections to our present day
Go snooping round its outskirts; night and day
Faces, orations, battles, bait our will
As questionable forms and noises will;
Whole phyla of resentments every day
Give status to the wild men of the world
Who rule the absent-minded and this world.
We are created from and with the world
To suffer with and from it day by day:
Whether we meet in a majestic world
Of solid measurements or a dream world
Of swans and gold, we are required to love
All homeless objects that require a world.
Our claim to own our bodies and our world
Is our catastrophe. What can we know
But panic and caprice until we know
Our dreadful appetite demands a world
Whose order, origin, and purpose will
Be fluent satisfaction of our will?
Drift, Autumn, drift; fall, colours, where you will:
Bald melancholia minces through the world.
Regret, cold oceans, the lymphatic will
Caught in reflection on the right to will:
While violent dogs excite their dying day
To bacchic fury; snarl, though, as they will,
Their teeth are not a triumph for the will
But utter hesitation. What we love
Ourselves for is our power not to love,
To shrink to nothing or explode at will,
To ruin and remember that we know
What ruins and hyaenas cannot know.
If in this dark now I less often know
That spiral staircase where the haunted will
Hunts for its stolen luggage, who should know
Better than you, beloved, how I know
What gives security to any world.
Or in whose mirror I begin to know
The chaos of the heart as merchants know
Their coins and cities, genius its own day?
For through our lively traffic all the day,
In my own person I am forced to know
How much must be forgotten out of love,
How much must be forgiven, even love.
Dear flesh, dear mind, dear spirit, O dear love,
In the depths of myself blind monsters know
Your presence and are angry, dreading Love
That asks its image for more than love;
The hot rampageous horses of my will,
Catching the scent of Heaven, whinny: Love
Gives no excuse to evil done for love,
Neither in you, nor me, nor armies, nor the world
Of words and wheels, nor any other world.
Dear fellow-creature, praise our God of Love
That we are so admonished, that no day
Of conscious trial be a wasted day.
Or else we make a scarecrow of the day,
Loose ends and jumble of our common world,
And stuff and nonsense of our own free will;
Or else our changing flesh may never know
There must be sorrow if there can be love.
5.1k
Surely you,
Jester.
Unduly-expressed.
Lambasted,
insulted.
Abrasive ...
au naturel?
I think...
Surely not.
Unless,
Had the aforementioned not just the will to rip through my throat,
but too the audacity to penetrate the inclement root you call heart.
Well, I had made my decision.
and lo!
I would have stood by it too;
had my own form of insecurity been given the chance to wilt.
Not further admonished on
how to think. how to act
How 'one' should primarily be.
Instead I lie bludgeoned,
berated;
and by the very thing that
antecedently spurred
a cascade of unsophisticated giddiness.
That too was far from the cry of a
Devil-may-care persona.
I would almost weep the lost opportunity,
Whereas I should simply, and most ardently
Just be.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 1:56 AM UTC
Little Jamar raised
His voice authoritatively,
"I'm a man, and
Men don't cry!"
Jordan grabbed him
By the shoulders,
And admonished him,
"Men don't cry..",
He exclaimed.
"Boy who told you that lie?
Men do cry sometimes."
Of course they do.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
I demolished my own walls to let you in
They warned and admonished me from the danger of your existence
Yet somehow, I was still enthralled by the unprecedented phenomena you brought
I disregard their warnings and entered your danger zone
My soul found solace and felt mitigated in your arms
I am not terrified of your tremendous storms
I am willing to embrace your disastrous nature
My love, I am your victim and it's a privilege to submerge in you
I accept the severity of the damage that it might caused me
I am the sufferer and you are the love that caused
losses
terror
blood
And still those reasons will not restrain me from loving a catastrophe like you
My love,
It is my responsibility to insure my safety and well-being
You are the flood
And I promise to calm you.
Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 10:39 PM UTC
(for Mama <3 )
She wore her favorite red and beige
batik cotton dress, that morning,
while i,...wore old, faded clothes,
unfit to be worn outside the house,
my slippers, thinned by frequent use...
she would've admonished me,
had she noticed.
she never went out of the house
wearing crumpled attires......no missing
buttons or snaps...her collar was always
straight...stiff.....until she came home
from work at night...
as she grew older, she preferred more
comfortable clothes, like, cotton shirts
and dresses....and how she favored
those with batik patterns...
even with her back bent a bit,
she still dressed up
with grace and confidence.
whatever the occasion was.
in her younger days, i felt sad
each morning when she left for work...
with admiration, i followed her as she
walked away...as far as my eyes could reach...
these days, i am older...i still follow her,
as far as my mind could remember...
Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
---July 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 5:27 AM UTC
By a day's difference, and a night's
indifference...angelic flight looses
evasion what was embrace.
The repose of memory blighted by
forgetfulness...seven constitutions
ago that personified the goodly
week of creation.
Incontinent, now...to All Things
small that were big.
Admonished whole by the changeable--
thou fairest...unwell.
Supping thy chinny chin chin--with
world-wearied, and wearying palms...
overgrow The Garden in hopes it may
obscure The Fall.
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 6:09 PM UTC
"I just want to have sex", you said.
An unexpected non-sequitur.
We had been sipping tea or coffee or something.
We had been reminiscing about the old street,
Back when none of us were single.
"yeah, I miss it, too", I said.
"No. I mean right now", you corrected.
As I turned to see your face, it betrayed little.
Impassive, but alert.
Warm, but not intimate.
No passion.
I was willing, but remember:
this never happened.
Something seemed wrong about it,
But was there any harm?
I asked if I could think about it.
You thought about it, too, as we watched a movie.
Halfway through some Ridley Scott epic, we held each other.
We touch-explored and memory only tells me this is true:
With no further reason beyond the will to be,
I soon lay naked there with you.
It wasn't love but, then again…
This never happened.
Awkward, at first, we found our place,
Our touch and pull, our rhythm and pace.
"no kissing", you admonished, speaking only that.
Though I rest spent and full inside you,
That was your concern.
Too personal.
Too intimate.
We held each other for a while, you left within the hour,
Saying, "this never happened".
And my only thought,
My only answer to you,
Was a solemn confirmation,
That nothing could be more true.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 12:59 AM UTC
Otto was ill-timed and
out
of place
in his black suit and
hand-hemmed
pants
bearing the sheen of long wear
and his umbrella
reaching from floor to his elbow
its wooden handle as crooked
as his spine
"Where were you," he
admonished with his
eyes and
"Why didn't you," he
accused with his
cane-handled umbrella and
"Where is she," he
screamed from his
wrinkled shirt and
creased brow and
worn wool pants and
ill-timed arrival
one foot in the train and
one foot knee-deep in misery.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
he eschewed the label,
“Native American,” for he was *****
and he wasn't ashamed he liked his spirits
dollar wine worked as well
cirrhosis was a family trait
though he didn't learn the word until an army doc
admonished him, saying he would earn the curse
by 45, if he kept it up
and he did, even more after that crazy
Asian war, where he killed a half dozen men
they called yellow, though to Walter, they looked
to be his emaciated brown cousins
he could stand tall, straight
with a pint of rot gut in him, burning
his belly, but not causing his head to spin
though it helped him block them out:
those he did not know; those he
slaughtered like lambs with the gun they issued him;
those who inhabited a space just behind his eyes
whenever they closed, night or day
someone found him, in his pickup bed
dead from exposure, from too many years
on the bottle, too many dreams he tried to drown
and too many ghosts to haunt his nights
Gallup, New Mexico, 1999
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
**It's complexity did excite him
but in a stern voice
the Rubik's cube
admonished not to touch it!**
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
he was a smile in the crowd
inbetween the pale faces and angry hair.
ushering me between the antiques.
he swept me through drumming beats.
he kept by my side.
he laughed with me.
he shared my humour.
why is it,
that this stranger,
could see that I am worth spending time with.
how is it,
that he could take the time,
to show me something new.
and yet,
the man i a married,
the man who i share a life with,
tells me that i am not likeable.
tells me i have an attitude.
tells me i dont care.
tells me i am an embarassment.
could i be such a dismal spot of filth?
that i can be of such little worth to the world.
through technology,
i can see his face.
and his smile,
makes me want to go to him.
i feel a need to be enveloped by arms.
arms that doesnt judge, or expect, or remember.
i want to speak my heart,
and not be admonished for it.
i want to share my dreams,
and not have them trampled.
the light i once thought was my soul,
has been kicked under dust,
because it was deemed too bright.
and now i watch the world go by.
Jan 26, 2010
Jan 26, 2010 at 11:03 PM UTC
No words can share the chaotic precision
Of waves sweeping a sandy shore
Clean of its filth, expired life, footprints
Leaving the ground beneath supple and bare
Find me the words to describe
The confidence of a feisty crest
As it approaches the shore so swiftly
To pound without relent
How the pinnacles raise
A turbulent impasse
Until another frothy height
Follows its thin soapy tier
And stacks its might like ***** keys
Carrying them both to shore
Tell me the poem that captures
The layers and ripples dashing
As countless and intermingled
As the buttery layers of a croissant
I wish I could find the words to hold
This image deep within me
To remember the blur of green and blue
When I am far from their ruling roars
I would enshrine their vivacity
With a razor in my heart
If I could keep their beauty
A keepsake of nature’s art
When the outside world is yelling
I wish I could recall
At will the rumble of undertow
The thunder of admonished land
The crashing sounds that kidnap you
Forcing reality far behind
For no mortal trouble is so large
To ground you by the sea
The only thing to consume a wave
Is the crest rising in its wake
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 2:42 PM UTC
The postman showed up ready for Miami so I slung his bag around my shoulder & set out down the block. All the neighborhood dogs loved me but the little Asian lady on the corner admonished me to love her Buddha tacky flowers and faded yellow junk store haircut. In the gutter I found an old drunk redneck yelling: “Hey, you seen any ******* ‘round here?” I told him no and he asked: “Are you sure?!” & hopped up on a bag of bottles/ flew away. Down the liquor store the man there never smiles just sells his greasy chicken and tobacco, asks me where I been and I say “Oh, you know.” He keeps his floors polished and argues with his brother when you turn away. I ask him how much for tonight & he answers like a jackal, says I can’t be hustling deposits here & kick me out on Tuesday. I *** home & cat ***** on my shoe. Clean it up & pour oatmeal on his head just nice. He purr & coo & I go “aw, aw, kitty, no.” He bundle up in the room where I don’t know & trail spaghetti markers to my bed. I rent my lamp out to the city in exchange for unknown pleasure & get tackled in the bedsheets.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
the man began by pointing at the spots on the baby’s head and then he looked to us as if we were to answer for each. he turned the baby’s head carefully- it might’ve been an old globe to him. he apologized more than once for his age pocked hands. his apologies were unsettling, each one moreso than the last. his assistant minded none of this and sat reading an upside down newspaper while curling and uncurling her bare toes at no discernible prompt. when the baby squealed the man went pale and dropped it and his coat opened and we saw his naked wrinkled middle turn to ash and we saw the baby scooped up by the feet of his assistant and then saw the baby fit in her mouth. she never moved from her chair to do the scooping or the placing and we were horrified as she righted the paper and silently admonished the man for being momentarily vacant as to the whereabouts of her shoes. he went to his fours and nosed the shoes to her feet and we said amen to the tail of his coat. the assistant then stood and as she did so the man made swallowing noises and because we’d said amen together we were able to form a search party from which we periodically broke to **********
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
I said I would zig
And right then I zagged
I tip toes into the vault
Found the cold box
Numbered 5545
And slid it out
The treasure trove
Of what you never wanted me to see
Oh but I'm coy
Confounding
Slippery and seruptitous
Admonished and allay
Of any blame
Cause you left the key
On my ring
And the doormen know my name
Who needs a Nixon mask
When you can walk right in
With fling flongs and a parrot hat
I came for what's in the back
And when the sword was unsheathed
The container cracked open
The glow of your hidden life
Shone upon
What is now my bug bitten face
But the the glow of horror
A man can stand only so long
And the chest
And it's keepsakes
Crashed onto the tile dropped
But just before I faint
I loose my liquid lunch
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:01 AM UTC
****** sharp nay! blunt
A sword tamed with cruelty
****** wounding my hand
For five years! I can now let go
Adage!
Blunt the sharp edge
No fear! enough warmth
****** first pretty flowers
****** then adders!
Mine plea
****** out! appease my voice
Adage!
With a trumpet Singing the truth!
****** performed magic
"Paved" the maddened path!, "sobs"
"Lowered" the hidden cut!, "sobs"
"Admonished" false approval practitioners!, "sobs"
"Amused" my growing siblings!, "sobs"
A blossoming flower apprises
Colored with lines of liberty
Preaching smiles! adage!
Breaking the spell of thorny roots
****** gone future
Roots come future
Blood soiled hands gone future
Smiling painted flag come future
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 8:41 AM UTC
Admonished to partake,
This world I forsake,
And chirp over their cries,
For it's befit to realise,
Everything is bound to cease,
For none is there a release,
Dogma prevails over a soil to which tomorrow has no avail,
magnanimity subdued,
For our ******* ways has us all induced,
The way of life we have confused,
Authority is misused,
Enchant Misdemeanor craze,
Endeavour to earn,
Alas,
A salvation remains unlearnt,
Sea of hypocrisy and blood left awake,
A whim has lead me askew,
To simmer no hope,
To wilt In no lies,
To not be loved to conjure in a hearty demise,
"The earth is a blemished mess",
The sun sings to the skies,
Stuck in repentance the stars nod,
Bitterness espouses,
As i unearth in my creed,
A fabulous truth,
To which man pays no heed.
Nov 27, 2024
Nov 27, 2024 at 12:31 PM UTC
the night
had many eyes,
and spoke
in sounds that
a kid would be
interested.
the boy was
fascinated
by the secrets
of night.
but they told:
"don't keep awake
or look through
the window glass
you would hear
frightening voices,
and animal sounds
of many kind.
ghosts,
wander
at night.
so, sleep
safe under bed sheets
but night
the enticing witch,
with long dark hair
that cover pretty much everything,
came near the window
and asked
"why don't you
open the window
and see my garden
full of magical flowers"
the stars were happy
to see the child's face
they smiled,
night
looked happy in this turn,
they spoke in a tongue
understood by one another.
the boy was happy that he has nailed the lie.
"they said, you aren't nice,
eat kids,
i don't believe that now.
they don't know a thing
i love night sounds;
so soothing
like mother's heart beat"
the kid loved to
sleep near mother
listening to the beats
of her heart.
but they said,
it was bad, he has to sleep
alone, even if he wets bed.
Then
he heard the ghosts speak
in gobbledygook
that made him
uneasy and confused
when listened
it sounded like the
squeak of the moving bed.
to the edge
of the room,
he tip-toed,
and peeped in
through the half closed door.
" a secret world was opened
in front of my eyes"
he later remembered
though the significance
then eluded him.
there was a dreamy light in the room.
two figures, clothes shed,
were in bed,
trying to overpower each other,
with a kind of ***** greed,
that was all he could then think,
then the scene became tense,
one got up on the other,
trying to get in to it,
"ghosts! they eat each other"
the boy thought with disgust.
he tip-toed back
to his bed,
and pretended dead,
to avoid the eye of ghosts,
as he was admonished,
and went to sleep,
to the tune of the lullaby,
the bed moving in unison, created.
OOO
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
In the girdle of times stricken woes
Collected around a shank wholesome with girth
Hidden beneath the adipose tissue
Of many a feast, ale and tasteful dessert
Oh my
Seems like far back in yonder years
Sans worry sans problems sans regret
That the natural Adonis sinews
Gifted by the Creator
When we were granted our first breath
Were admonished as malnourished
Back in the day
Back in the day
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 6:00 AM UTC
My response for your care in my
reputation is
Thank you, but No Thank you.
Your way has seemed to calm the
rest of the people in the room to silence in
appall.
The criticism is too much.
My brain cannot think of anymore ways to change
on your behalf.
I understand my crazy qualities
are too intense for the age we hold according to you.
We are fourteen.
This is the age we both hold in our lives.
It is up to me to have fun while I can.
You are wasting precious time by growing up too
fast.
Seems that all you can tell me is what I did
wrong.
I see you are watching me
as if you have custody over me.
I am no child.
You are no more mature.
My heart breaks every time I see you.
I know our elders find it right but we know it is
wrong for us to be close.
I know this
by the blood flowing from my broken heart
as I walk the street from your house to mine.
There is a trail of blood that you will find
on your own since I am not permitted to say
I am hurt that you
admonished me.
You are no friend.
Control your jealousy.
I have not become the bad one
by abandoning you.
I find moving on a more effective way to admonish.
Be gone, be aware,
be no friend of mine.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
***Blood kissed her lips
'pon the bane of madness,
wary of world's
sans conscience,
she conjured her own destiny
as silently admonished winds
withered the existence
of dawning creations,
in the name of the father and
turbulent humility,
beyond reproached deliverance***
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC