"comeuppance" poems
*Nature has engulfed the Earth with Love
The roots firmly entrenched on terra firma
Sometimes nature’s fury uproots it all
Bringing with it, devastation galore
Yet, nature heals over time, lush green with life
Kissed with Life, by the eternal rays of the Sun
Water nurtures with the juice of Love
Breathing Life onto this planet
For Nature is Life, and we keep on strangling it
As Nature’s comeuppance may uproot us all
Our fate firmly bound to Nature; do we have a choice at all?*
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
It comes unexpected,
As is expected;
.....no one knows when.....
Sometimes, it takes too long,
Reparation eludes....fades,
Slips away.
Humanity becomes
...restless...wearied...
Humility,
Rectitude
Are two
Impossible dreams.
I ask God's
Forgiveness
When
I become
Wearied, and
Restless.
Sally
Copyright March 17, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 7:57 AM UTC
(I)
People used to light candles to ward off
prophesies such as this. Stopping, each
motherly representative, for 75 seconds
or less,
to tip match-spark to wax-thread
and hope for the best.
What ceremonial significance now
do we seek for to slow the approach
of what we know is waiting?
Oncoming march of death-knolls and unhappiness
bound up in silence
where
once we laughed uncensored at and for
the characters who spun throughout
this town, that school, the city, our lives.
All being, understandably, becomes
efficiently replaced with obvious simplicity.
From effortless performances
of what made our lives important
back in childhood years when living
was stable and guaranteed,
now to this mongrel era of constant migration
beckoning....
The familiar is no longer our youth’s
careless summer holidays.
The Familiar is now a land where
people don’t bother with any ideas
of an ideal existence beyond
what lottery tickets may bring.
Those who inhabit here are
more alerted to the purpose of lighting
coals in winter to shelter the children
and to keep the windows from cracking.
In summer find these same awaiting with
patient ears to heed any advice
which keeps them from going completely insane.
(II)
Go now, away
,begin
your quest, foolish schoolboy.
An entire adolescence’s
comeuppance is due.
Time now to seek recompense
for the years you waited
for anything significant to happen.
Time to seek girls with inviting eyes
and lilting vowels to offer favors to.
Abled with a catalogue of charmed
intoxicants. All softened by
a plentitude of weekdays waking
at three in the afternoon.
(Does “afternoon” exist in layman’s terms? Does
he simply made do with morning, day and night?)
Then on your flight make haste
to ensure your visit merely brief.
Like only one dimension of
your day-persona be a hawk
that delivers messages
back to the ivory towers of
new central HQ, while remaining
all cloak and whisper.
Messages from where people live
but no longer speak,
as result of an assigned sense
of failure,or complimentary
wrongdoings sought, what sorrow achieves.
Shattered lives, Ending dreams.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 11:55 AM UTC
we are not safe
all the markets could come crashing down
it could happen any day now
a blue origin rocket ship
never making it to its final destination
no man knows the hour or the day
no man knoweth that
bridget jones had her cigarettes
with wine and mr darcy
but i only have **** and a plastic
one liter bottle of coke zero
and no mr darcy to know the hour or the day
helen fielding, enabler of the delusional,
recycled happy endings
but the plastic coke bottle
isn't a jane austen novel
and the chinese don't want our garbage anymore
there is enough garbage in china already
"there are 8.3 billion tons of plastic in the world"
8.8 million metric tons are chinese trash
for the yangtze river to carry to the sea
sometimes i feel just like garbage previously shipped to china
trash and blue origin debris
comeuppance for the yangtze river to carry to the sea
endless oceans end
same place plastic rocketship garbage begins
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC
Neknomination its a sensation of the younger generation,
But how foolish and ghoulish trying to act coolish,
They drink sin after sin after sin from a bin, chin chin,
So wrong, along with the urging and surging from people emerging,
From the gutter, they stutter, he's a total ******
DRINK,
Don't think,
Of the consequence, or comeuppance, don't repent,
It's meant to be fun, watch this son, I'll have another one,
Don't do it, but they do it,
Please,
He's on his knees, beginning to wheeze,
It's not good, he's spewing up blood, I knew he would,
But then the devils been chased from his den, he's not after men,
He wants the young, they'll get stung by his poisonous tongue,
Then it's done,
To late,
That wasn't great was it mate,
Neknomination it's an abomination for the younger generation.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
My lips part from yours,
Urgency comeuppance,
Met with swift reliance,
Ah, sweet moan.
Clothes, shredding of real sin,
Breast naked upon chest,
Lined waterfall of spine,
Trickle arched back.
But rough your advance,
Enclose all saintly spaces,
Eyes that glaze over,
Skin and love.
Apr 28, 2010
Apr 28, 2010 at 7:41 AM UTC
When I was waist high,
Freckles are angels kisses,
And bedtime seemed a comeuppance
Years old,
I used to wish to grow up in effort to shed my
Child's problems.
Now that the years have raced past,
I've grown into an adult's body
Along with adult problems,
And I wish I hadn't pleaded with the fates
To hurry it onward so.
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 8:31 PM UTC
From foragers swinging in the trees
To hunters striding through the grass
The sun and watery sphere ruled us.
As civilized we learned to farm
To shape and harness beast and grass
Our fathers struggled with the Gods.
Now sins of fire, bow and axe and plow.....
Our **** in orbit, fouling deep in ground
All decay and rain upon our heads.
9/24/2011
Sep 24, 2011
Sep 24, 2011 at 6:34 AM UTC
come to me,
my beloveds
with long nails
and squinting eyes,
spare neither
claw or hook,
delve and devolve,
critique and solve
the words of this prophet
scribbled on plastic
bus seats
give me
my due,
my comeuppance,
my downfalls
will me
to be better
or worse
if that be betterment
so eagerly
will embrace,
grasp, insert
your benailing fingers,
soften, grasp,
repoint thy claws
taking thy earnest joy
at pain inflicted
as my own
as long as you dare
just say something!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A bus poem
in honor of my invitation
my digital birthing
April 8th, 2015
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
I go to a church that's broken.
One that's cracked to the core
and had its comeuppance.
It beaten, battered and knocked to the floor.
Some said, "We may as well close the doors."
"All the good is gone--we'll never be as we were before."
But God is good.
Peace and people are slowly coming back.
But not the same folks as when we were on-track.
Lives mired and full of sin,
most have given up on them.
Bruised, broken and knocked about,
the ones who are clearly on the outs.
Now that the strong ones are on the run,
all pretensions here are done.
I'm glad I attend this outcast place,
full of cast-offs from the human race.
God's triage comes from this salt of the earth.
Something's finally getting done.
We're seeing rebirth.
Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 7:49 PM UTC
The once lively river dried, now it’s bare
Its sweet, flowing song gone forevermore
Life’s pleasant melody just isn’t there
And won’t be there to drown within fate’s shore
For I shunned hope, I shot down all of love
And cringed whenever all my problems came
Too scared to face all of these problems, tough
Regret I, for it shan’t e’er be the same
The river dried, the rush I cannot hear
Of azure streams as they snaked through life’s land
And o, ignored I every step from ere’
And each problem and every helpful hand
I stayed inside, abhorred the streaming glow
Never answered my door for hope or strife
And repeated such foolish folly though
Each day on after, each day of my life
Eventually I faced comeuppance, mine
For I deserve this pain and woe and strife
For I shunned all of bitter hap through time
For I had shunned all of the haps of life
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
*though the mills of God grind slowly
yet they grind exceeding small
though with patience
he stands waiting
with exactness grinds he all.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow*
for the wicked there's comeuppance
yes, for plagiarist and troll
it may not be in present tense
but evil has its toll
for the greedy human tyrant
for the fat politico
the rich are as a vagrant
trudging through the snow
****** Pol *** Stalin
Napoleon's Waterloo
in disgrace and fallen
into hell's external stew
the world is a millstone
it grinds fine, or so it's said
born here crying and alone
finally we're dead
don't envy the deceiver
or those who perpetrate
they'll be the receiver
meet poetic Fate
God has a sense of humor
those who blot society
may end up with a tumor
in the end will not be free
those who think they're "first"?
pity the poor fools
they're actually cursed
to be the devil's tools
there's no skating through this life
they will all be doomed
the scepter is a poison knife
the coffer is a TOMB.
SoulSurvivor
(C) 11/23/2015
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
******* my comeuppance.
There's a lot of boring here
Learning new text
Fighting new 'plex
And settling into no other
Life as a smattered painting
Galaxy's attempt at recreation
Correctional institutions of cellular disillusions
Peeing off the side of the golden gate to create a meta golden gate
Ships sail underneath my toxins.
Vulgarity for clarity and cleverness for its sake.
Drown myself in intoxication and say things in it's wake.
Welcome to life post life. Welcome to a lonely impasse. Welcome to a place that God desires, let's hope it will soon pass.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Ignored my intuition
lived to regret my folly
let down my inhibitions
he ran off with my lolly
His twisted dysfunctional lies
I believed without question
my emotions he assailed
his lies too many too mention
Won’t give in to resentment
leave disappoint behind me
I’m sure my money he’s spent
my bright future worth every penny
He’s a lesson well learnt
my eyes well and truly open
my fingers badly burnt
he’ll get his comeuppance, I’m hoping
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
There is nothing fair about the pale light of New Spring
Air that is full of promise,
bearing no fruit or cinnamon scent
Naive contempt that we all will bear a rich fullness
Sun wick in its watery gaze.
New Spring is the forewarning of the lengthening shadow
While the flowers bloom, gnarling hands tug at their roots
Decaying the imago, delicate foundations,
ruining their artful poise.
Urge of the nightingale wavers and a swift dirge comeuppance
Clouds break apart, denying their lofty existence,
Soil blackened by the soot of His flamed feet,
Which trespass sweetly and indulge in the
scent of burning and plague.
New Spring is the cowering of my hope
and the doubts of rightful renewal
Bread I bare is stale, water a rasping thirst
My heart unfrosted and chilled from Winters gambit
Tis a Stolen Season
Apr 18, 2010
Apr 18, 2010 at 5:14 AM UTC
Ignored my intuition
lived to regret my folly
let down my inhibitions
he ran off with my lolly
His twisted dysfunctional lies
I believed without question
my emotions he assailed
his lies too many too mention
Won’t give in to resentment
leave disappoint behind me
I’m sure my money he’s spent
my bright future worth every penny
He’s a lesson well learnt
my eyes well and truly open
my fingers badly burnt
he’ll get his comeuppance, I’m hoping
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 1:54 PM UTC
I'm so tired
Of the trying
The way I play with words
Saying more with less
And the only lesson I have learned
Be
Simple
For
The
Masses
Are
Simple
Now come up
Comeuppance all at once
Amateurs that strike against
The professional
Its a lesson taught against from
Poets
Deaf
Dumb
Blind
And
Cynical
Simply said
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 4:44 AM UTC
HOW ONE MR. TONY PERKINS GOT HIS COMEUPPANCE!
** ** ha ha
Louisiana floods
destroy the home of
Church leader who
says God sends
natural disasters
to punish gay people.
See him escaping
in a canoe
from a deluge of
"almost Biblical proportions."
I love God's
sense of humour
when outing a bigot
and an idiot.
Good for God.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
One percent Sun Kings,
Guillotine comeuppance fails,
. . . Too ******* subtle.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 2:30 AM UTC
It was an uphill trek to the dilapidated fort
Reminiscent of the past glory and supremacy
A grandeur which cannot be replicated
The solid stone walls smoothed to perfection
Each stone sitting perfectly, filling the jigsaw puzzle
Taking a walk around, I come across some etched paintings
Wonder what story it narrates, or what secret it holds
I try to peer closely and see what resembles a princess
With all the swordsmen surrounding her
Maybe from the prying eyes of some obsessive suitor
Or is it that the princess was held captive by a rival?
The fort is testimonial to so many incidents
Which may have happened, clandestinely, inside its walls
It must have been attacked so many times
Also, it could have been taken over by force by the enemies
I enter the fort through its imposing entrance
The thick and heavy wooden doors, now ajar
Riveted with iron bolts, now rusted over time
The door must have been attacked and pounded with severe force
Weakened by the ravages of time and the aging wood
I enter the fort and is greeted by huge arches and a corridors
Surrounding the length and breadth of the fort
With so many chambers, that I lose count of them
Wonder, where the princess must have been kept in captivity
Or, may be kept safe from the obsessive lover, from the lower ranks
I weave my own intriguing story, unaware of the history
Once a secured monument of the glorious past
Now forlorn, it stands there in stupefying silence
With each passing day burying the cries, shrieks, laughter and conniving plots
Someday, the whole existence of this fort may be diminished to dust
For it is comeuppance of time, where, even the glorious and mighty are not spared
© Amitav (Radiance)
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:35 AM UTC
The prophecy went unheard
The minuscule started playing colossus
Hedonistic era prolonged the mayhem
Abhorrence spread its root deep
Uprooting them from the original existence
Feeding off the unnatural sources
Comeuppance awaited the inebriated beings
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
Every poem a foundling. Ancestry uncertain. Cuckoo. Kidnapped.
Each line liberated from a huge, noisy foul. Taken not stolen.
Don't put all your words in one. Task it to be new.
Almost bought organic bananas yesterday like some kind of millionaire.
Some of the best times of my life have no photographic evidence.
I often wonder where my thoughts come from. Perhaps Uranus.
Date a girl with small hands.. Everything will look bigger next to them.
Get to the point. My medication is starting to wear off.....
Karaoke, because being an obnoxious drunk isn't embarrassing enough.
If I am the man of your dreams, my condolences. Stupid is.
It's all fun and fiction until you show up missing. Internet romance.
My thighs are looking awfully lonely without you between them.
You've spent an entire day creating the ultimate sheep pun,
but have you ever considered the ramifications? Disordered thoughts.
Die a quick and painless death: the new American Dream. Lonely kills.
All I need is just a little cherishing. Comeuppance. Cherish is the word.
Listen, karma is the ***** I am simply her occasional instrument.
Meaning becomes data becomes information becomes content becomes meaningless.
Writer creates order. Otherwise only words in a row. Whole more than parts.
Big bird tweets often. Means nothing. Vacancy. Disappear into void.
Shout out the words you don't understand. Leave them to the poet's hand.
~mce
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
**when i was young
i had so much time
time to play the fool
and time to be so cool
when i was young
i could well afford
a few misses along the way
time was on my side
and comeuppance was new terrain
when i was young
i knew everything about anything
and the world was young like me**
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
The day creeps nearer
the date is calling
my heart still beats a beats thats fallin
time to find the truth no dare
time to live a life ..no beer
ten days so long yet even closer
to find my fate ..win or looser
no job ,no cash ,no way of knowing
fates new blow ..stay ..or going
I know that folk will laugh and fear
once my comeuppance for all those years
so time to duck and dive some more
time to fight them from the doors
being down but still not out
I'll fight that fight and beat them all
staying stong and living on
thats the plan ..what could go wrong ?
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 6:46 AM UTC