"bantered" poems
I wove my own web and netted my prize,
I cold-pressed my words and refined my disguise.
I goggled at life and faced up to that book,
I tumbled and tweeted and baited my hook.
I blipped and I blogged, I bantered and blushed,
I followed and friended, I grovelled and gushed.
I doled out the instant, ten grams at a time,
To fuel my addiction for caffeine and rhyme.
I reshopped my pic, I swiped left, I swiped right,
I pinned and I posted deep into the night.
I gloated and gossiped, I chatted and cheered,
I logged in and logged out without favour or fear.
For is it not fun - this mad media storm?
Viewing and voting from dusk until dawn.
Yet love me or like me, let it never be said,
That despite how it seems, it’s gone to my head.
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
I joked
I bantered about it
Being touched when I did not want it
I chuckled
I giggled about it
Being felt that way when I did not want it
I set it aside
I disregarded it
Being looked at with the eyes of a prey
I ignored
I muffled it
The deviant remarks when I did not want it
I covered
I draped it
The million clothes on my body when I did not want it
And yet
They uncovered
They tore it
Every fabric that touched my skin when I did not want it
They grazed
They squeezed it
Every inch of my bare skin when I did not want it
They muffled
They ignored it
Every scream that left my lungs when I did not want it
They forced
They pushed it
Every inch of their filth in me when I did not want it.
But I did not stop there, I asked and begged and yelled out my story to all
But at the end
I was called a ****
A ****
Who asked for it.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 11:56 AM UTC
In Aleppo, they do not weep
for how can one
weep in wounded time.
Souls bantered
piled up, interlocked
dead & dull
lost in dusts
in a cold frenzy night.
Oppress Eden
but not Aleppo
not today, not tonight
not in this time
where children can’t weep
to save their tears
for them to drink
& not their blood
while trapped
within collapsed walls
of the wailing world.
Children of Aleppo
cry not, die not.
Memories will never bury you
to the infested ground
saturated by psychedelic bombs
& festered by maddening
cataclysm of human cold art.
The old world tries to redeem you,
to let you live, live with living
but it cannot for how can the world
try to win, then and again
tears back to emotive impulses
breaking the wind pulsating
in the plane sanity of mind?
In Aleppo, dead men forgot
to weep. Forgetful men
wept yet weeping
with no clause why.
Aeroplanes are still there
buzzing the sky,
bombing your hearts.
Aleppo, your body might die
tonight & several nights more
but memory, in this wounded time
will never bury you to ash
for Aleppo, young child, will live
beyond wounds, beyond cries.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
You're not eating properly
Eliane's mother said
you've hardly eaten a thing
Elaine who'd been thinking
of the boy John
looked up
through her glasses
at her mother
at the dining table
got to eat
her father interjected
got to eat
my young Plump Hen
her sister said nothing
but grinned
I do eat
Elaine said
but she didn't feel
like eating
it seemed the least
important thing
at that moment
her stomach felt
as if it had fallen
into a slumber
not enough
her mother said
maybe she's fallen in love
her father bantered
Elaine went red
and lowered her head
and began to nibble
at the food on her plate
nonsense
her mother said
it's some silly
slimming diet
I bet
not very successful
if it is
her younger sister said smiling
John had touched her arm
in passing at school
not by accident
but by design
he meant to touch
to bring her briefly
into his world
his circumference
she still touched
now and then
the area on her arm
he touched (at school)
with her fingers
I won't have you dieting
over some silly fad
her mother went on
but Elaine ceased listening
the words were buzzing flies
she wanted to
flick them away
with a hand
John had talked to her
not at her
or about her
(as others did)
or down to her
but with her
in a duel thing
he and she
kind of exchange
she ate slowly
the food almost
making her gag
getting stuck
in the throat
she held onto
the image of him
in her mind tried
to focus
on his outline
on his features
his words
taking each one
she could remember
and turning it over
in her mind
as if it were
a rare gem
girls your age
what are you now?
14 yes 14years old
ought not to diet
her mother said
breaking into Elaine's head
if I see you not eating again
I'm taking to the doctors
Elaine looked up
and put on
her good daughter face
that I'll do
whatever you want features
and John had placed
a hand by her head
at the school fence
his arm brushing softly
against her hair
and he never said anything
unkind about
her dark hair
or the metal grips
her mother made her wear
and her mother rattled on
but Elaine just returned
her innocent girl
stare.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
You say no to writing, to speaking, to thought
Yet this evening you laughed as we bantered and talked
My heart is aflutter, my shackles are cracked
The guards have dispersed, my odds fairly stacked
The walls I constructed to keep me alive
Are no longer hiding the fear deep inside
I'm yearning for something I once thought oblique
But now fin'lly realize its linear streak
You once told me that there was no way to win
And to start life all over, to refresh once again
I've told you I love you through poems, books, and song
And now I will prove that, for once, you were wrong
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
I am not the kind to hold a grudge
Especially if I know on some level
It is a bullet I am supposed to dodge
You were probably joking
So it is weird for me to insist
That your words were upsetting
Maybe I am reading too much into this
But were you not just pointing out
That bits and pieces of me are a tease
I would understand if others bantered
But coming from you, my friend
On this subject, your attitude tortured
Not very fond of sarcasm
And making me an object of ridicule
Specially from you, is so seldom
Pardon me if I snapped
For the damage that it caused me
Is something I cannot drop
It stings because it is you
For behind every joke
There's a tad bit truth
Now I muse on what is worse
That I think you meant it
Or you do not realize it hurts
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 5:19 PM UTC
Becoming Bald
Light shines off my scalp.
It glows off my forehead.
The hairs of my head
are thinning out,
like
a pioneer forest being cleared
patiently by the foreign farmer,
who came to the woods
to carve a plot
from what once was a forest,
rich with dense undergrowth.
In former times,
the thicket would break the wailing winds,
accosting the house and barn.
Now the gales flow freely
throughout the rifled trees.
Peace shone through the branches.
Calm, as the roaring gusts
burst upon the stripped land
and coursed across the barren plain.
As the stiff breeze blew endless,
shingles tumbled off,
siding was lifted and bantered away,
studs creaked and collapsed,
drywall rolled off,
everything scattered,
like all the forest critters
running from a smoky fire.
When the ashes settled,
I saw the whole curve of the earth,
the land shimmering
like
a lake of glass with driven snow,
skating along the frozen pond.
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
Philosophy. Elegance. Yet Sense un-done
That Time-by-Time those Bantered ***** retweet
Which - by Fair - smoke these Elements become
Breathe Conscience into Sage; And thus we meet
If only should your Fresh Convention wear
Prune these Forceps to your Young Tridents fixed
At least a Wee - and a Wee bit of hear
Some Owl's Downey Feathers make to your Mix
And what I offer - if Offer be Creed
My Base Mortal Template bound to Annoy
Was simply to Watch; And respond to your Need
Though my Voice un-qualify to your Ploy.
At least I Tried. Though surpass Dimension
Usurper I be; Though Honest Intention.
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
Frost is longing
I longed for the thaw as soon as I saw
icy blue eyes and a navy Patagonia
reflected up from a small square of light.
Longing to see you in person
but settling for bantered texts
and drunken FaceTimes
Longing to reach across the copper table,
clasp your neck,
and pull you into candlelight
Longing to collapse twelve days into one
so we can stop rehearsing
and begin.
Frost is two roads not yet contemplated.
We have barely set out.
There will be many chances to diverge,
Each one a "what could have been."
For now there is only one reality -
A fantasy of who I want you to be.
Whatever we will be,
we will never be that.
Frost is nipping at my nose
With teeth like wintergreen chiclets.
Seduced by the smell of roasted chestnuts,
I am always disappointed by the taste
Yet, ever optimistic,
I try one again.
And each time it comes closer
To making fantasy real.
Frost is on the window.
Scratch with your finger to try and see through.
Delight in how it rolls under your nails before it melts.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 1:18 PM UTC
We bantered of finer flings, as we toasted with our moistened teeth, but had seen better rings on stronger trees, swaying in the breeze of the oncoming traffic.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 5:59 AM UTC
I left this morning without a backward glance.
I boarded the train without a moments hesitation.
I started work, continued my day without a secondary thought.
I operated on autopilot, smiled, laughed and bantered accordingly.
I thought of nothing much outside of work.
I like that I'm lost in a crowd.
I waited for the clock to hit five, then left.
I cut a lonely non-descript character.
I like that I'm not seen.
I like that I'm not noticed.
I like that I'm not thought of.
I like that one day someone will say:
"I never knew".
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
Fast forward in time,
To a place that was then,
Transform the mind,
With less than paper penned Zen.
To find a believable center,
That was never quite seen,
No matter the bantered canter,
That pace that was always obscene.
But in the base of your fear,
All aspects are yet forgivable,
How is this an ever lustful portent,
Through prudent eyes so beautiful,
An ever-blending portrait,
But I am no harbinger,
No bringer of the rain,
Nor am I the carpenter,
Or finder of your sane,
I am merely the one left standing,
Standing in sardonically soaked pain,
With very real thoughts,
That I am the one who is insane.
But for love I can't complain....
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 3:37 AM UTC
Bantered like a pro,
Happy memory held dear
Keep this moment close.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
I lived here far too long
in this cavern dripping its darkness
with accusations and critiques
that have wetted my back with thick moisture
sticky with comparisons.
The crevasses and stones were placed with my collusion
in crazy cooperation with shadow.
Sadly the path of my past is strewn with this profusion
but gladly timely shafts of light spoiled the deception
and I climbed to a luminous plain
encountered rocky mounts
with veins of silver and gold
that bantered with the pain.
Now my long conversation with light
has staunched the blight
and rarely does the tempest threaten
to drown my spirit in its flood.
For now my shortfalls are taken in stride
measured against the serenity of truth
that surrounds me.
Now my hands are joined to fellow travelers,
to the faithful who laugh with me
at the reaper of darkness
weak in the ditch
whimpering over the paucity of his power
in the face of brothers and sisters
redeemed by the force
of honesty, trust, and Love.
Written 11-9-19
Nov 9, 2019
Nov 9, 2019 at 1:32 AM UTC
God's children
Suffering death
Little they knew
Would be their last breath
For the insane theater
They entered
And with electric poison
They bantered
With wine of ergot, they embraced their modern eclectic change
With little knowledge, of their fatal range
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
Desperation calls
And weakness answers
Will strength be here tomorrow
Or will false love be bantered
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 3:18 PM UTC
Chivalry Never Dies (Or So They Say)
Chivalry, they said, would never die,
Yet I, the savior of the deceased, know why.
Once alive, vibrant, and whole,
He held the weight of my faltering soul.
We laughed, we bantered, we shared the days,
He soothed my doubts and cleared my haze.
In times of anguish, he'd always appear,
A steadfast presence to quiet my fear.
But I was blind, so lost in my needs,
I never noticed his silent pleas.
He gave and gave till he was no more,
A shadow walking, his spirit sore.
A living carcass, drained and spent,
Yet never a word of his discontent.
I saw him crumble, day by day,
A residue of light that faded away.
I tried to mend, I tried to care,
But his burden grew too great to bear.
So I closed the door to what once was,
To save myself from breaking because—
Though he returned, his light renewed,
I know his glow will soon subdue.
For this Chivalry is long since gone,
A fleeting star before the dawn.
"See you on the other side," I sigh,
For even legends must say goodbye.
Jan 24, 2025
Jan 24, 2025 at 4:03 PM UTC