"reconsider" poems
we live in times when words have lost their meaning
they only serve to fill some soundbite gaps between
faces of popstars, politicians, presidential candidates,
maybe some refugees, victims of crimes and natural catastrophes
and more sensational media creations flooding our lives
with unrelenting hype unless you push the button
that brings quiet to your life and you find time to reconsider
what it might be exactly you desire to achieve
in the short time we are allotted in this world
you will discover it is not the senseless media blather
but some coherent thoughts turned into words becoming deeds
enacting change leading to bold decisions
think for yourself and don’t let others think for you
then speak your thoughts in words like others cannot do
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 5:53 PM UTC
Time: 7:30 pm
Temp.: 68F
~~~
overlooking the runways,
festooned by
accidental heavenly whimsy,
or humanistic whimsical inten-sity,
all the the planes and trucks are flashing
electrifying speckles, of eclectically synced
red and green
it is not my holiday,
but no matter,
like every New Yorker this day,
I am happily celebrating its
double U,
unique, unusual
"record breaking warmth"
yes, the Fahrenheit is outtasight, and by the dawn of
early eve~night,
the Centigrade is spiraling in reverse retrograde,
as the temp eases on down, just below seventy degrees,
on this dewinterized twenty fourth day of
December, two nought and fifteen
traffic is light, the terminal, an unbusy, slim shadow of itself,
the maddening crowds gone, now all are among
the dearly departed and either/or, the newly arrived
so composition of the observational, brings cheer and smiles to my faith,
(I mean my face),
the crowning quietude of clear skies, the absence of street smart
city bustle and hustle,
the languid atmosphere at the gates,
(where seldom is heard an encouraging word)#
makes me reconsider the true meaning of
the au courant phraseology of this day
"record breaking warmth"
for there is indeed
a calm invisible warmth suffusing all tonite,
chests glowing from fireplaces within,
contentment chamber containers in both hearth and heart,
and I am thinking
miracle,
about all the human warmth
on this celebrated evening,
holy night
indeed,
it is breaking records of
recorded human fusion,
the united commonality of millions warming
his and her stories world-over,
that your personal poet is
warming to record
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
German is a harsh language
An opinion that prevails
A strong rolled “R”
Noises, making you think
Something is stuck down your throat
Talking, in everlasting anger
Let me tell you something
Let me introduce you
To the beauty of the German language
To the words of “Wanderlust”, “Weltschmerz” or “Geborgenheit”
Many words so unique
Their meaning poetic
Using them yet so difficult
Listen to us closely and you will find out
German is not German
It comes in many forms
It varies by the region, state, country
Every form has its own character
Every accent has its own thrill
Determinable in the way it’s spoken
And sometimes hard to understand
Differences so great,
Yet compromised in a single tongue
Reconsider,
German is not as harsh as you think
No anger lies in our tone
Nothing is stuck down our throat
And spoken by the right person
It can be quite melodic
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 2:35 PM UTC
If I were a boy
I would have so much less fear
I wouldn't always have to look behind my back
And be wary of who I choose to keep near
I wouldn't have to be scared about being assertive
When the guy who's flirting with me makes me disconcerted
If I were a boy
I could go out for a jog
And run in a remote area
I could go hiking and camping all alone
And not have to worry
About being ***** and murdered
If I were a boy
I wouldn't have to question what clothes I wear
Hiding myself under layers,
Because I'm scared
That I'll be abused and ravaged
If I'm attrative
If I were a boy
Reading the news about
The **** and ****** of women
Might not affect me as much as it does
It wouldn't make me reconsider
If I should go outside today,
Ride my bike alone today
Make sure the door is locked and the alarm is set
So hopefully I can get my rest
Without fearing for my life
If I were a boy
Maybe I wouldn't imagine
What it's like to be a woman
Going about her life,
Suddenly attacked by a stranger,
Struggling for her dignity and then her life
Dying under the crushing force of hatred in her killer's eyes
If I were a boy
I wouldn't understand the reasons why a woman would be scared to be a woman.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 5:47 PM UTC
When times get rough, we try to break and run
There's nothing to fear but fear itself
You can't succeed if you don't try
Positive thinking will work wonders
I can't help but make things awkward
I'm unsure of how to act
I still perceive you as mine
It's hard letting go, I'm slipping off track
It seems solitude won't help us grow
It obviously hasn't worked before
Why not depend on each other?
There's always something more
I believe we can do this, together
Join forces, slay our demons
A change is gonna come
Let's sail through this stormy weather
I'll be your crutch if you be my sight
I won't give up without a fight
I implore you to reconsider
I can help you see the light
Take my hand, teamwork never fails
I promise we won't lose each other
We'll discover all what this entails
And experience happiness within ourselves
Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 8:44 PM UTC
You've made me reconsider everything I thought
And change all the conclusions that I've ever been brought
You made me stare in adoration from the way you talk
To the way you have confidence and swagger in your walk
And when you dance, I see eyes filled with passion and drive
And from the audience, it looks like you become more alive
I see happiness, as if it's really the only time
You can feel such emotion and I understand why
You seem to fascinate me and I seem to admire you
Cause I love to know things like your past and what inspires you
How you hold yourself, your humor type, and I desire you
And I can't tell you why cause usually I enjoy solitude
But I'm so drawn to you, I think of you all the time
I wanna be snuggled in your arms, your lips pressed against mine
Cause with everybody else I'll just say oh yeah I'm fine
But I actually can mean it when I'm with you and I won't lie
I feel endless smiles and countless butterflies
And I can't take the stare you give me from your ****** eyes
So I look down, and fidget & become sorta shy
When it's all realization I finally got a great guy
For months it's been strange cause I haven't just cried
Cause we're fighting over nonsense or cause somebody lied
Or your ignoring me, cheating, beating, not treating me right
Im not used to this but it's all been relieving and nice
I gaze at you and I wonder if sometimes you catch me
Cause I'd stare all day if I could and if you'd let me
My love for you is strong and becoming very heavy
I rarely get the chance to meet people who don't regret me
You're what makes me happy
And wake up in the morning
Go to school, see you
And I see now what is forming
I'm just so in love and I would never ever leave you
Cause I don't just want you anymore, I'm beginning to need you...
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
When you're tucked into the corner of your bed kissing a girl, consider blasphemy.
When you're picking flowers and spinning your lover in the grove, consider blasphemy.
When your mother finds out and you are forced to leave her, consider blasphemy.
When you have healed from your sins, come to the church and consider blasphemy.
When you turn back to your sins, leave the church and consider blasphemy.
When you get married to your wife and commit yourself to the sin, consider blasphemy.
When you are old and on your deathbed, please, for the love of God, reconsider blasphemy.
When you stop your breathing and reunite with your lover for eternity, disconsider blasphemy.
Jun 6, 2022
Jun 6, 2022 at 8:20 AM UTC
I find myself on uncertain ground,
Straddling an impossible horizon.
On one side is day, where my consciousness thrives
On the other is night, where fatigue claims its prize.
For years, it seems, I have longed for sleep,
For a reprieve from wakefulness, and the sun’s piercing light,
But now, as I stand astride this unlikely fission,
I fear what awaits within night’s unyielding prison.
The darkness has beckoned, calling me forth
Even now, its sweet siren reigns down on my soul,
Oh, how easy, to just close my eyes and let my thoughts be consumed,
The promise of nothingness nearly impossible to refuse.
But my silhouette on the ground reminds me of light,
And I owe it to myself, past and future alike
To reconsider day and all it provides,
Before I make a choice, here, where two opposites collide.
I can remember hope, and the anticipation of greatness,
But also despair and nights spent alone.
Laughter and desire, pitted against resentment,
An ever-tipping balance between dissatisfaction and contentment.
No, it’s just not enough for me to fully commit,
I’d much prefer blackness and its long-awaited calm,
Yes...I will forget about day and its promise of grief,
Instead, I’ll take night and its selfless offer of relief.
Just one step forward and I'll be forever engulfed in silence,
But first I’ll rest here for just one second longer-
I need to say goodbye to day and pay respects to light,
Then I'll go forth, and forget this place where day leads unto night.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
With the ivy on my house, I had to reconsider what flowers I wanted to add to my garden. I never expected to be gifted a hydrangea sapling that I planted beneath the wall of ivy. I was much more beautiful than I had originally thought, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the hydrangeas were able to grow and flourish on their own alongside the ivy. The scent of hydrangeas became comforting to me.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 4:09 PM UTC
You're cute.
Adorable.
Sweet.
****
Lovely.
Amazing.
Rad.
Beautiful.
Awesome.
Handsome.
Different.
Weird.
Crazy.
In the best possible way.
You make me smile.
You make my stomach do backflips.
And 180's.
You make me stutter words that should be easy to say.
You make my cheeks turn firetruck red.
You make me want to write again.
You make me want to love roller coasters.
And horror movies.
You make me proud to be
A womyn
Gender Queer
Gay
A Confused Person
You make me want to learn about feminism.
You make me reconsider my original definitions for words some people use everyday.
You make my heart melt.
You make me happy.
Thank you.
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 10:47 PM UTC
I try to reconsider being bitter,
but you didn't have to hit her.
You're a backstabbing father and a quitter.
And as a parent it was apparent
that you were incoherent.
Your self esteem was barren.
Wearing a mask that's transparent.
I was oblivious.
You told me you were the wittiest.
It's insidious.
Your personality is hideous.
It was ingenious to me, the way you deemed us to be.
Your English was fiendish.
So much that your seamstress couldn't see.
True sense made me feel like I was a nuisance.
Like you didn't need my two cents.
Now I'm gone for good.
Dueces.
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
Where's the man whose love is big enough
To catch a waterfall?
Whose rain slicker is sturdy enough to let things roll
Who isn't afraid to stare down a stream
Or look a storm right in the eye?
This man doesn't run;
The water-bearer--
On his shoulders he lifts the weight of love.
Do you know how many times I've seen
A man turn and run away from me
Instead of rushing to the sea?
He trickles away from feeling;
He dries up.
No, the man I'm speaking of
Is more than an oasis in a desert of difficulty;
He is a full-on river
Gaining speed
As he rolls down the mountainside
Carving canyons as he goes
Defeating the foes
That try to make us hide
from our emotions
--In fact, this man feels oceans
And never turns back
On his decisions
Doesn't reconsider the love he's given
or what he lacks
Because when he lacks, he makes more.
This is the secret of persistence
That keeps the sea kissing the shore
Because at times the tide gets pulled back by the force of the moon
But this man keeps sovereignty over the moment, knowing that soon
He will come crashing back onto her shore
And she will be waiting.
Yes, the earth would wait
Solid as a rock
for his return-
Her faith unshakable,
Though she is moved by his caresses.
She remains ever the same,
But she is molded, changed
By his loving form.
Made even more beautiful
By his presence.
Where is a man like this?
I've yet to find
One with such ardent purpose of mind
As to sweep his lady love
Off her feet, in a great flood
Of kisses and hugs
and promises fulfilled
The man who has an immutable will
And an unalterable course
Who dissolves the rock
And inscribes his love into the very earth
Not just by strength or force,
but perseverance
And resolve for all he's worth.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
This week, Jesse Herndon has more on her plate than the typical high school student.
She has spent hours after school each day making calls, finalizing details for an event happening Sunday.
Collecting donated items for an upcoming silent auction. Calling every bakery in Greensboro.
“It’s very stressful,” said Herndon, a junior at Weaver Academy.
But it’s all for a good cause.
She’s organizing an event with free pastries, live music, a fashion show and a silent auction, which will be held at 7 p.m. Sunday night at The Blind Tiger, 1819 Spring Garden Street in Greensboro.
Admission is $4 with the donation of clothing of any size. The goal is to collect clothes that would comply with Standard Mode of Dress, or SMOD, the uniforms required at some local schools.
The fashion show will feature clothes from Plato’s Closet, Mack and Mack, and Patina Bridal and Formals.
The silent auction would include items such as Weaver Academy student artwork and a gift bag full of beauty products valued at about $200. Herdon is still seeking donations of items to auction.
The event will benefit Backpack Beginnings, a local organization that provides food and clothing for thousands of local needy children.
All 127 Guilford schools have a dress code, but a few dozen require students to wear uniforms.
Some parents have complained about the cost of buying the uniforms. They’ve also complained that the uniform dress codes vary from school to school, requiring additional clothes purchases if a child changes schools.
Parents and some students also described dress code violations for wearing a jacket with a hood, a logo deemed too large or the wrong color shoelaces.
“SMOD is really expensive,” Herdon said. She knows because her sisters have attended SMOD schools.
In January, the Guilford County Board of Education unanimously approved changes to its policy on SMOD. Principals of current SMOD schools have until June to survey parents on whether to continue requiring students to wear uniforms in the 2015-16 school year.
Now, school administrators at traditional schools also have to get public input before requiring uniforms. Ever two years, traditional schools with SMOD have to reconsider requiring uniforms and demonstrate public support for the policy.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
The Chicago Tribune called it,
“The Affair of the Decade!”
Everyone’s mothers called it,
“Another tragic heartbreak”.
When the coroner wiped his hands,
He predicted a sensation,
And so did every uniformed man
Sitting in the po-lice station.
In a cold Illinois motel,
A man in a suit smiles.
He was twenty years in,
A detective for the city.
Oh, that smile he’ll smile,
But gone is his laughter,
Along with his pity,
For tonight, tonight,
He would shoot up the city.
Regina combed her blonde hair,
And took the lift down to the lobby.
The pale-skinned princess,
That woman’s body…
How many fell for her
Remains quite a mystery.
We watch,
Ladies and gentlemen,
We watch,
As her dress moves in the breeze.
Like a dandelion in the dark,
She rides the carriage
Into the park.
The detective stood alone,
A cut-out cornerstone.
He was no longer nervous,
He looked like a statue,
And the virgin-white snow
Fell quietly to his shoes.
In the moonlight, she came.
He spoke her name.
In the moonlight, she walked.
But when he spoke, she stopped.
“Regina, Regina,
Please reconsider.
Without you,
The nighttime is darker,
The cold air much thinner.
Without you,
The wind becomes sour,
The daylight so bitter.
Regina, Regina,
It’s just a few days…
Say yes,
And in the morning,
We’ll be far from this place!”
But that Regina, Regina,
She let him down easy:
“Your job is to spy,
To live in the quiet.
You’re a prowler,
You were born to sneak,
And I will proceed,
But do not follow me.”
And we watch,
Ladies and gentlemen,
We watch,
As she turns on a dime,
Leaving our detective behind.
A poor, tortured soul,
He smiles that smile,
And in an act of desperation,
Pulls out his frosted .45.
For Regina,
He aimed, and
For Regina,
He fired.
In the heart of Chicago,
Be it snowfall or in heat,
No one can be spared
When a man is in defeat.
T’will be the foggy air,
The hot metal, and
The echo of the gun
That will help us remember
The night that we watched,
Ladies and gentlemen,
We watched…
We watched...
The snow, and how
It lost its innocence that night.
And poor Regina, and how
Her yellow dress blended into the sight.
The detective, and how
He would step into the street,
Killing everyone he’d meet.
Twenty men dead,
Now the asphalt is sticky,
And the blood spilled is gritty-
For tonight, tonight,
The detective shot up the city.
The coroner wiped his hands,
And predicted a sensation,
And so did every uniformed man
Sitting in the po-lice station.
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC
You are You!
Who am I?
You need not to reconsider
You need not to feel shyness
You need not to compromise
You need not to hesitate
You need not to make request
You need not to bother about
You need not to make a hurry
You need not to protest
You need not to wandering about
You need not to ashamed for
You need not to chase about
You need not to lurk around
You need not to mad about
You need not to feel loneliness
You need not to be humble
All these things are for me
You need not to get rid of
Any thing!
Anyway!
For any one!
any time!
You are at the height!
Not in the depth!
Its all for me
I 'm humble and busy
With bow head I face you!
Only in want of you!
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
I used to bury myself in huge jackets.
I'd mope about and hate my curvy body,
hate the way my lips puffed,
my long hair, the way I was soft all over,
the way I was expected to shave
everything but my face.
I used to hate makeup and dresses,
girly movies and shoes and bobby pins.
I hated boybands. I hated pink things.
It took me a long time to realize that
I didn't actually hate these things.
I hated women.
Femininity was lesser. I was not good enough
because of my two X chromosomes,
because of my ***** because of my period.
I was weaker. I was stupider. I was
statistically less likely to succeed,
less likely to be important,
less likely to be loved.
These things weren't right. They were never true.
But it didn't matter, because nine-year-old me
believed them. My opinion didn't start to change
until I was thirteen and I wore a pretty dress
as a character in a home movie we were making
and I walked down the stairs and my friends
whispered whoa.
I began to understand then the power I had.
As a girl I was never lesser. I was never weaker.
Maybe physically, but that was more my personality,
and all those lies I'd told myself about success
about my importance about love
I began to reconsider.
I thought hey wait hold on
this can't be right, I'm not stupid, I'm not weak,
I'm not ugly and I'm not fat
and I'm not any of these things because
I'm a girl.
When I started to see myself as worthy of
other peoples' love, I realized I should love myself.
I don't hide my femininity away in huge jackets anymore.
I don't walk down the street fearful
of the people walking past who seem stronger.
Because in my lipstick and my cute heels,
I am in total control.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 2:33 AM UTC
If you're happy with her,
stay with her.
If you could be happier,
reconsider.
Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 2:05 AM UTC
My child,
As you watch your worlds get torn apart
With a malevolence you can’t comprehend,
Please do not throw yourself into the crossfire,
This is a war you cannot mend.
Their anger is too deep-rooted,
Their hurt is much too strong,
They will insist on going down fighting,
And refuse to see where they are wrong.
Find shelter from this constant storm,
Please close your eyes and ears.
They won’t listen to your pleading,
They choose not to see your tears.
Your screams won’t penetrate their spiteful resolve,
Your little voice will go unheard,
You have no choice but to be strong now;
A responsibility so undeserved.
My child, you cannot help them
As they stand firm on this battle site.
You must know this will be one of many,
There is too much wrong to put right.
If they could see how their bellowing makes you recoil,
See you cowering on your knees,
They might take heed of the damage they’re wreaking,
Reconsider this incessant, vindictive reprise.
But this road is far from ending,
So don’t exhaust your resilience here,
You must protect yourself from the barrage,
For they have not the strength to shield your fears.
It will be another long and tiresome night
As you are again dragged through this mess,
Processing all of their vicious accusations
For all that they refuse to confess.
So as you watch the two people you revere the most
Spit venom at volumes you can’t stand,
I beg you not to let it make you hateful -
This is not what they had planned.
I know how you long to fix it,
Desperate to appease their pain,
But my child, too much has already been broken,
Just please know you are not to blame.
I wish I could offer an escape route,
Tell you everything will be OK,
But there is no choice except to ride out this bitterness,
Await the dawn of a new day.
And on that day you’ll find a way to forgive them,
For destroying everything you knew as home,
For their selfishness stealing all innocence
And turning safe places into war-zones.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
There is a strong sentimental attachment
to an old dark blue pickup with pin stripping
Hadn't driven it in years…its tires were loosing air
Intentions of getting it road worthy were slipping
A neighbor spied it … asking if it was for sale
Saying he needed something like it for hauling
With a sigh… I relinquished my keepsake affection
With a boost… it sputtered… then purred without stalling
Too late to reconsider and backing out of the deal...
Giving a gentle pat to the shinny chrome bumper
I lovingly said, 'Take care of the ol' girl...
she'll be good to you if you maintain and pamper'
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
You were ****** up
Said what's up
And believe me,
You were so great.
Words poured
Like liquor adored
Your mind was awash
With everything your tongue spat.
You'd had enough
***** in the rough
Fists ready to bleed
You'd had enough of everything.
So yeah you hit your limit
Punched that **** with everything you had
Didn't figure you'd **** him, I know
Also in your defense, he was an *******
These ditzy little dollboy *****
Never realize when they've said enough
Twinkling eyes and bicurious brows
Reconsider their manners as they **** **** in Hell.
Ten-plus years and out for good behavior
A whole new life but nothing to savor
Old friend drops by to give you a ride
And you cruise off into forever.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
I just watched a short film
of flowers
in fast motion
and I decided
that flowers try, too,
and that they struggle
and toil
like we all do,
and I like to reconsider
what the holy men
have said,
because maybe
they were wrong
and just saying things
like we all do,
and I like to doubt
the holy books
because they might be wrong
and just saying
old, handed-down garbage
or maybe not,
so I reconsidered the lilies
and found that they do indeed
toil and spin,
and they do dress nicely.
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 8:21 AM UTC
We think death is romantic
Because the same lilies our ex bought us
On our first date are neatly draped
Over the caskets as decoration
(But there are no flowers in our arms
As we lie alone inside)
We think death is liberating
Because we imagine the shackles
Of society falling off our wrists and ankles
As we fly to a better place
(But in reality
We are locked in a prison
Beneath six feet of dirt)
We think death is infinite
Because we can never return
To the people who harmed us
And the house that was never a home
(But our bodies are not eternal
As they slowly decompose
Back to nature in the ground)
What we fail to realize is that
Life is romantic, liberating, and infinite
Romantic in the form of a sunrise
Climbing over a calm sea,
Liberating in the form of birds
Traveling to anywhere they please,
Infinite in the form of flowers,
Dying and regrowing in the spring
So on the day that you make your decision,
To end your (romantic, liberating,
And infinite) life I beg you to reconsider,
Because you may already have exactly
What you are looking for.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:21 PM UTC