"prevalence" poems
Once when I was young, I was told you could swing so high you'd be able to just fly away.
I learned early on
That not everything we're told is true
The fantastical can sometimes amount to a pile of plastic bags scattered in the wind
The end isn't always happy and there's not always closure
Punctuations are more often question marks than definitive periods
And looking for a definite explanation took prevalence over allowing our imaginations to fill in the blanks.
Play time was replaced with study time,
And before we knew it, it was time for work
We strayed from the playgrounds of our youth,
Never returning to the top of the slide, we'd hit the ground a bit too hard to keep the enchantment of seemingly endless possibilities going
Carriages became pumpkins long before midnight,
And the school bell rang before we could finish our fun
But to tell the truth, sometimes,
When everyone else has gone inside, back to the real world, full of logic and banalities,
I sit on the old swingset kicking my feet
Hoping it will let me soar
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 5:05 PM UTC
On the heap,
Thou dangle and screech
And bedeck, for I seemingly espouse.
The anecdotes and myths:
Engaged in a mutual pose.
There comes the hymn,
And the sway and the hum;
The abnormality and the deform
Halted on a single stance.
To dozen of the tokens
Whom I prejudged;
The prevalence of the chaos
That sleeps merely on my tongue.
To all the estrangements
From which I refrain,
Within the bawl of the tantrum, upon the hook of the day.
Farewell to all, farewell the haze
Farewell the cluster,
To the resolution found within a fane;
Where rituals confuse,
Where the practice becomes a fame.
There thou taketh solely,
A hymn and an interminable haze.
Whats the sense of the ovation
When no screen displays
A mourning motion
For which no motion craves?
I sigh, and mumble
To which mere consciences giveth
To me only, mine solely.
His to hear and his, keenly.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
Unmotivated Tears
I used to criticize
The eyes
Of those I knew
Who, at
Drops of a hat
Shed tears of ardor: God-knows-what.
Ascribing it
To vitamins and lack thereof,
Past, present and/or too much ‘love’.
Too something/something out of balance;
Nothing but a prevalence
Of yin or yang
Ganging up
On both those ducts.
Uncaring and unfeelingly – I used to be.
Now, at eighty-three it’s me.
I may need hormone therapy.
Or is it age sagacity -
Unmotivated tears
Based on a grasp of life’s chimere
That takes in all -
An all which makes one engineered
By tears
One must defer to.
Unmotivated Tears 4.24.2018 I Is Always You Is We; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Aging; Arlene Corwin
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 8:10 AM UTC
The wild jazz solo of the oscillating wind,
tossing the great waters,
out-singing the sheer sighs of the unruly sea.
The clouds dressed grey, in mourning
the sun will peek
only to be swallowed by fishermen's mist.
Flickering bolts greet thunder rolling
with unchallenged prevalence,
shaking the Earth into fear.
Nature's response.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
Of course it was never her fault.
So many misgivings, so much insanity
Capacity to care floundered
Dispersed white powder fragments
Blow on broken glass tables
A surrendered white Christmas
Drawn matted curtains keep
Crystal blue skies and
Bright sunshine hidden
In darkness Dr Seus’
“How The Grinch Stole Christmas”
The stealing of innocence
A childhood
A prevalence greater than
Any Christmas
Her imagination only fuelled by
The blinkering television set
Thurl Ravenscroft’s voice penetrating her silenced soul
In a climate of disdain
Christmas spirit in shortage
How she lived alongside Cindy Lou
Her scarred heart, willing and eager
For just one taste
Of a day so sacred.
© Sia Jane
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
Rising from the darkness,
the evergreen dilemmatic soul
waking from the displeasures
bound by reluctance.
And slowly it slithers
upon the filth in life
only to fall back
into the reverie.
Disgraced eminence,
of this priceless concoction.
Enigmatical views,
but doomed by nature.
Born to change,
with time , with people.
To stay phlegmatic
as it writes its own destiny.
Dreams of falling into
the lap of luxury
like any ordinary soul.
But with a hint of transgression.
No robotic means,
just emulation.
Pulled by the ties of
prevalence.
Swindler of identity,
benevolent of jauntiness.
Passes through many loops
of croquet.
Yet saves its inscrutable soul
from the disrespectful world.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
In the wake of giants we sing
We see no boundaries
We see no walls of abhorrence
Only prevalence
If we are not chasing a dream
We are helping someone else catch theirs
We think our dreams are too far fetched
We think because we are us we can't
What separates us from prosperity
Nothing but one fact
While we say "no I can't"
Those who prosper say "yes I can"
It's more simple than we imagine
- Joseph B Schneider
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 3:50 AM UTC
Of course it was never her fault.
So many misgivings, so much insanity,
Capacity to care floundered.
Dispersed white fragments,
Blow, on broken glass tables,
A surrendered white Christmas.
Cartoon shapes form,
A blinkering television set,
With a lowly child meek submission,
Afraid to question a day, date, time,
Just the imagination fuelled by,
Children's laughter behind,
Matted curtains keeping,
Crystal skies bright sunshine.
In darkness, Dr Seuss'
"How The Grinch Stole Christmas,"
The stealing of innocence,
A childhood,
A prevalence greater than,
Any Christmas.
Spirit in shortage,
How she lived alongside,
Cindy Lou, wishing & eager,
For even just one taste,
Of a day so sacred.
Adults circulate, noise polluting air,
Insects festering in,
Corners untouched,
By rancid faeces,
A baby boo striving,
To thrive (survive),
In a climate of disdain,
Unworthy.
Another one bites the dust.
© Sia Jane
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
perspective, getting the evidence
setting your goal on new impression
an acceptance of a blessing prevalence
the forever treasure of getting to heaven
objective, setting new precedence
no measuring the feeling of pleasance
an omnipresence, and a gift of reverence
nothing is better than getting new presents
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
Discarded loincloths adorn the table.
No one pays attention to the spilled milk,
catching the fever, we turn the other cheek
our hastiness turn upbeat over prevalence
it is hard; juxtapositions lie at your fingertips.
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 7:46 PM UTC
Dear Disinterest,
I must
Protest
Your sudden
Prevalence
You've got my mind
In a metaphorical state of
Ambivalence
And I think it best
You relocate
Rearguards,
A More Interesting Life
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
Is difficult to come by
These days
It seems trends
Take prevalence
Over genuine creativity
Replicating what's in
And it's shameful
All that's needed
Is the thrill
Of discovery
Taking risks
What's needed
Is originality
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
When harsh winds blow, you strengthen me so
and fill my lungs with breath.
This faint heart shall not drop its' pulse
nor beating in its' chest,
these weary legs shall never rest
nor stumble where they tread.
Tho' scrapes and gashes do gnaw at my arms,
not a cry shall escape my lips.
Tho' loves do come and leave me, oh,
your hand in mine ever rests.
Hatred rips across my chest
as the strike of a thousand whips,
but the heat of your love mends every wound,
bestills my wavering hand.
Tho' the drop of a single feather
could shatter my very world,
it is you who blows the harsh winds, oh,
you fill my lungs with breath.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
Do you not understand who I am?
Do you not realize only one of us is seen as a man?
So I guess I’ll be the one justifying the ditch digger’s prevalence
Since I am the omnipotent,
The Almighty’s significance,
The reason your existence may end in a matter of seconds
Never to understand what we can’t comprehend,
When I was woven within your tendons, I awaited a tear,
I’ve been cuddling your cranial creases,
Waiting for a chance to leave you malignantly impaired
Don’t you know who I am?
The Uncle of Sam,
The child of liberty,
The holiest lambs
I am your conscience,
I’m what makes’ you a man
I am the life force only the dead can comprehend.
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
Hold me close,
That I can feel the darkest part of you soul
Tell my lust is no longer opposed,
And my heart feels whole,
To your unfailing love.
I despise you,
Your grip is to eloquent,
Your fingers are askew,
Your body’s prevalence,
Now everything’s anew.
Everyone is after you,
It’s only few that you choose.
Why me again your time is overdue.
My heart clutches though I’m confuse,
I’m tired of an indirect abuse please self remove.
So caught up I lose control.
Or is it you that’s in control of me?
Leave me breathless is that your goal?
Tears run down my eyes so you let me be.
Hold me again please or I shall not speak.
©
Feb 4, 2010
Feb 4, 2010 at 7:07 AM UTC
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Yet, people smolder every meaning of the word beauty.
Taking procedures in order to obtain this image of perfection, but it is right built inside of you. Believe it or not, whatever you need you got!
Reading this now with your eyes, heart beating to the sound of survival.
Educating yourself on how to accomplish revival because you are dead.
The laughter comes in sequences syncing perfectly to those begging for attention.
Revolt revolt!
Build a catapult to launch yourself away from here.
Lose yourself in all the sincere.
Perform a test to see if you're the best.
“You are defeat compared to the rest!”
Start to dress to impress when the prevalence isn’t up to par,
spending days alone at empty bars.
“Dare to make a move!”
“It won’t improve you.”
“You got nothing to lose!”
“Yeah, well how about your skeleton starting a rebellion? You’re yelling, starting to tell your children the beginnings of this addiction.”
It swallows you whole, your body is totaled.
Now, you’re in the rusting pile of traveled miles of rot...
Forgetting what you are what what you’re not.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 3:59 AM UTC
to be compressed beyond all thought to nothing
singularity
by guilt that pursues all preferences and destroys.
decimates you
when you wake up from the dream
the dawn comes
and you deem
all things as problems
Cause things you try for are destroyed
things you love are void
all passions are forgotten
and nothing
but: pain, torture, derelict,
are left.
a consuming hold strangles you to complete restriction of vein
all weather is told to stop
all your brain begins no calculations
standstill of formal
sis decease
the quandary of feeling just. so much pain
just so much problem
just so much manipulation of self telling you that you will be ok and knowing.
it is a lie
just like the things you've always felt
the things you've always been through
car washes that laser you to nothing
to nothing of worth like dirt. yet lower. demoted
promoted from **** and compiled to none
divided enjoyed and summed to the sum
of nematodic prevalence that ***** with your modesty
we must ****** this feeling of warmth
for if we don't take all the heat then the cold will never come
and we will be like them.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
Convey to a new perception,
Not which is material,
Nor that spoils a mind,
Rather reconstitute,
An equilibrium,
See in between the lines,
Of simple complexity,
That perplexes the mind,
To ask why,
Material over intelligence,
Has such prevalence,
Over I and you,
Conduct rational thought,
That leads to logic,
Instead of inferior emotions,
An effortless current,
Of massive debris,
Lets clean this pollution,
Filled of greed, hate, envy,
*** race, money, religion,
Political, material, self loathing thoughts,
In exchange intelligence,
Efficiency, common sense,
Of practical applications,
Ranging from nothing to everything,
Let it reign intelligence,
From the skies,
Onto these dumbfounded lands,
So one day everyone knows,
c = 3.00 × 108 m/s,
Is how slow we should think,
And how fast we should move
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 10:34 PM UTC
I suppose
as we grow older
the bitter wind
bites,
just a little bit colder.
The summer heat,
feels just slightly
more unbearable,
a tad
too sweltering.
The wind whips
more aggressively
than before,
blowing through
the window screens
& underneath front doors.
Summer scent,
doesn't seem
to hold the same
saccharine bliss,
as it did
when we were
but kids.
Dread & gloom
appear with the
slow spit of rain
but,
do you remember a time
it filled
the puddles in which
you used to
laugh & play?
"Youth is
wasted on
the young"
We are so
often told.
Yet I see
no prevalence
in being
embittered & old.
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
Depression is a disorder of mood,
so mysteriously painful and elusive in the way it becomes known to the self--
as to verge close to being beyond description.
It remains nearly incomprehensible to those who have not experienced it in its extreme mode,
although the gloom, "the blues" which people go through
occasionally and associate with the general hassle of everyday existence are of such prevalence that they do give many individuals a hint of the illness in its catastrophic form.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
The holiday season causes onset entropy
Pessimism replaces optimism-
and cynicism takes precedence
Crows create residence where the hearth once stood
Their carrion prevalence attracts maggots,
birthing putrid thoughts and bitter intentions
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:45 AM UTC
it feels like i am floating in space.
never really sure what day it is,
what time it is,
or how long i’ve been in this one place.
my determination and prevalence
mold the time into one recognizable moment.
and while i continue to run,
i run aimlessly towards a goal
i no longer see.
all i know is that it’s what i want to be.
-abc
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 9:36 AM UTC
I'm not always so bitter
or angry
or high...
on life (and other things)
I can be sad
sometimes
There is most assuredly
occasions
that the darkness brings...
I'm sad that MacDonalds
don't serve breakfast past 10
I can get down
when I run out of
alcohol (and cigarettes)
at 2am
A tear or two
have slid down my face
when the mouse
that had it's back legs broken
has escaped from it's trap
and I have to give chase
I've been known
to weep
when the hangover
kicks in
*Man, it's prevalence
these days, is rife*
That pretty much sums up
nearly everything
that makes me sad
All the rest
is just a byproduct
of Life
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 10, 2012 at 4:41 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
If not for the pills
Doctors once prescribed
The musician Prince
Might still be alive
Along with others who
Sought similar relief
Because their stories too
Ended in grief
If not for the greed
On Big Pharma’s part
The opioid epidemic
Right from the start
Might not have grown
To epic proportions
Because of ignorance
And outright distortions
If not for the relaxed
Government regulations
We might not now
Be at our battle stations
Trying to reverse
What’s sweeping our nation
Because opioids doesn’t
Go on vacation
If not for the prevalence
Of the fentanyl drug
And its purveyors
Who are typically smug
Then we might not have
Gotten mugged
In the way that we have
By this deadly drug
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 8:25 AM UTC
It's hard to resist the urge to exercise arrogance when your self esteem hangs in the balance.
By the end of this month, I will have made 733 dollars, meaning I will have to borrow another 400 to pay for this month's student loan payment and keep my credit card from going over the max again.
My room mates covered my share of the rent this month until I could pay them back yesterday because I only work 20 hours a week.
On paper I am a tax on the community I am a part of. Not a contributor.
As far as I can see, the only thing I have of value these days are my words; so please forgive me if I over sell my ability to use them. In comparison to the rest of the world, the significance of my piece is very little.
Relative to me, however, my piece is my world.
And I am not alone in this mentality.
__
I am a poet.
And I really need you to know it.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC