"resignation" poems
Masters of the Universe,
tender me thy resignation,
if but for
a day,
a millennia,
no matter how measured,
any being,
you, purported supreme
or otherwise,
are tired in ways
hard to comprehend
*tender me
thy responsibilities and dilemmas,
have studied your resignations,
solutions that provide no resolution...*
I can do better.
Why?
not obligated by parenthood,
rules of randomness superimposed,
all I got is human kindness
the eyesight that
colors kindness,
tolerates no injustice,
milky white light,
no longer recognize
"there for the grace of God
go you and I"
have no name,
but if you need one for me,
call me
<human>
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Precarious Life
Migration in the Age of Globalization
Various Strife
Cessation in the wage of translation
Starvation in our under age narration
Is opportunity worth the cost
Bifurcation of our to be nations
Will we make it across
Vicariously rife
Location of our permanent vacation
Hilarious fife
Hesitation in the living wage stagnation
Resignation of our own home nation
Will anything become lost
Frustration in this age of relocation
Will we make it across
Gregarious life
Migration in the age of inflation
Precarious Life
Stagflation been gauged with low expectations
Automation when we enrage damnation
It shall be worth the cost
Fixation on a whole new acclimation
Will we make it across
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
Strong winds may uproot you
Unsettle your stoic resignation
You will be shaken and stirred
Lot of ponderings and doubts
In the middle of nowhere
When gravity does not give hope
Become a fearless traveler
Encounter the strong winds
No matter where you settle
Continue to spread your roots, deeper
Your soul is still with you
Nothing can stop you from reliving
Every unsettling episode
Will teach you to be more resilient
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into spring
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off the Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things
I love you
like the habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I’m sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I drink a glass of water
in the morning
and chain-smoke cigarettes
all through the day
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
through my life a mess
I love you
because I don’t want it
any other way
I am helpless
in m love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it’s been so good
for so long
that if I didn’t love you
I’d have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you
The Dells tell me Love
is so simple
the thought though of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afraid of the dark
and can’t sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
because you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you
I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you 'cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
Found myself at a dental clinic...
He was the best there was.
Unorthodox and eccentric,
But to the specialised craft, he was boss.
Ran through the bits and bobs
Like any normally would.
The poking and prodding and the mandible X-rays.
Everything cold and clinical, so was the mood.
Strange was what happened next...
Specialist and I then stood facing each other.
He leaned close and pressed his palms against my rib cage.
Held them there over a few breaths before it was over.
Then a brief chat, small talk initiated by the man.
Bespectacled and exceedingly chatty, small in stature.
Talks of politics and odd human behaviours...
What started off as friendly turned into a heated banter.
I then realised that along with his decorated credentials,
Was his propensity to be condescending and arrogant.
Him being the best, I thought I could let it all slide,
But soon enough I opted out of being a willing participant.
Couldn't stand his abrasive cockiness!
I snapped out of being cordial and passive thought.
I wanted him to just stop talking!
I went, "Well, are you going to fix my teeth or not?!"
He was stunned momentarily...
I suppose he hadn't seen that coming.
Then his features softened to a blank
I could almost read the unspoken words he was conjuring.
With an exasperated sigh of resignation,
He uttered his next words swollen with regret
"There's no need...for you only have four years left."
It dawned upon me that my timer has been set.
And then I woke up...
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
Rage, relentless shackles tortuously restricting the beat of my sole drum
Wailing child, aged’s bell, muffled canine whimper beckon
Tempered resignation and guilt overwhelm anger, their bidding masters me
Unequivocal love, they want and need me, as I they
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 9:29 AM UTC
it is cold seeping in my bones
and hot air on a summer's day
it is warm excitement and carefully calculated disinterest:
all at the same time
it is confusion,
joy and resignation,
mixed together in a melting ***
made of the last rays of hope filtering in
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
You softly whisper to yourself, love’s music ends right here
As you put away your tender heart’s violin
So utterly sincere in your resignation to quietly exist
To never play your heart’s violin again
You hear the sweetest music played around you every day
With no desire to join in with your own sound
So quietly existing in this world of your resignation
Such a sense of peace, you have found
Then one day when you awaken, the worlds a bit too still
You sit and wistfully stare at your heart’s violin
Think about your resignation and the peace you found within
And ever so quickly, you turn away again
The world keeps on a moving, not only quiet but so dark
No longer do you hear any music played
Makes you begin to wonder if this peace you’ve found within
Is also, what made the music fade
The solitude and peace found in this bittersweet release
Has now become your heart’s only friend
You resign to the fact that your violin you must play
If you want to hear the music once again
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 11:23 AM UTC
Over the surging tides and the mountain kingdoms,
Over the pastoral valleys and the meadows,
Over the cities with their factory darkness,
Over the lands where peace is still a power,
Over all these and all this planet carries
A power broods, invisible monarch, a stranger
To some, but by many trusted. Man's a believer
Until corrupted. This huge trusted power
Is spirit. He moves in the muscle of the world,
In continual creation. He burns the tides, he shines
From the matchless skies. He is the day's surrender.
Recognize him in the eye of the angry tiger,
In the sign of a child stepping at last into sleep,
In whatever touches, graces and confesses,
In hopes fulfilled or forgotten, in promises
Kept, in the resignation of old men -
This spirit, this power, this holder together of space
Is about, is aware, is working in your breathing.
But most he is the need that shows in hunger
And in the tears shed in the lonely fastness.
And in sorrow after anger.
4.9k
When they get to the aquarium, the kid asks if they have a Great White shark exhibit.
The volunteer says no, we don’t.
The kid asks, “Why? are you afraid he might try to eat people?”
The volunteer chuckles at this and tells him no. no aquarium has successfully held a Great White shark live for more than a few days.
You see, in order to stay alive, Great Whites and other sharks, like hammerheads, swim on their own continuously through the ocean, never stopping, never slowing, tramping a perpetual journey with many miles to go before they finally reach “sleep”. If they stop, the oxygen rich water around them no longer flows over their gills and into their bodies and they suffocate from the strain of being at rest. So they keep going, like lost children searching for their parents in a very large amusement park.
This need to keep moving, this need for space, has made it extremely difficult to keep them in our meager glass human death cages. When the Monterey bay aquarium managed to capture a juvenile that didn’t thrash itself to death like the adult sharks they netted before, it bashed its head against the tank’s sturdy walls until the shock of being dragged out of its home and put in the equivalent of a coffin killed it.
But, the volunteer continued cheerfully, we have other kinds of sharks here. We have zebra sharks, which don’t need to swim nonstop. In their natural habitat, they just lie on the ocean floor all day. The kid agrees to go see them
The zebra sharks are not lying on the floor nor do they look like zebras. They swim slowly past him, leopard spots dotting their ridges on their backs, their fins, their long tails. “They’re called zebra sharks because of the zebra like patterns of the juveniles,” the volunteer explains. The ones we have here are adults.When they become adults, they get the spots and those ridges you see. Sometimes people mistake them for leopard sharks, which are a totally different species.”
The kid stares at the zebra sharks for a full ten minutes, looking for a sign of resignation at being called something they weren’t anymore, at collectively being referred to by a childhood nickname they had long outgrown. They did not seem to care.
He gets bored and goes to other exhibits, the split fin flashlight fish blinking on and off in their darkened tank, the touch pool, the medusa jellyfish with their trailing tentacles. But the sharks are what he remembers when he leaves, and they’re what he remember when he returns three months later, six months later, two years later, three, five, ten, this is what stays with him, the sharks in our tanks and the sharks in the ocean.
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
She bolts awake from nightmare’s fear
Her mind fumbles for the mask
Its visage calm, gaze cool and clear
Once in place no one will ask
Exhausted from her restless night
Escape routes all slammed shut
The knots already pulling tight
Deep down inside her gut
The enemy stand at their station
They circle round her bed
Anticipating her annihilation
The demons in her head
Her feet are not yet on the floor
But the battle has begun
Another endless day of war
She must fight, she cannot run
She glances quickly in the glass
Haunted eyes she cannot meet
The enemy charge takes the pass
Her soul in forced retreat
The mask will serve her well today
Its rigid smile conceals
The terror barely held at bay
The torment that she feels
She plants her banner on the mound
Though hopelessness holds sway
She grits her teeth and holds her ground
But the ******** make her pay
All day the battle rages on
But the mask remains in place
Though at her feet hell’s chasms yawn
The world sees not a trace
The conflict ebbs, her shoulders slump
No victory is claimed
She turns for home, trailing blood
Count her among the maimed
Return to camp yields no respite
Command’s duties have no end
Cares for her troops into the night
Strength's last measure she will spend
All her charges now in bed
Mask in hidden place she keeps
In resignation bows her head
And midst the dark, in silence weeps
Now when the camp lies silent
In night’s hush no pennant streams
She braces for coming violence
And girds for bloodshed in her dreams
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
The first duty of the State
Should be sanitation,
Not defense, nor cyber-security.
Drain the swamps.
**** the vermin.
Wash & sweep the streets.
Let us forgive his past shenanigans.
A vote for ****** is a
Vote for cleanliness.
After all: next to Godliness.
(American politician **Anthony ****** former member of the U.S. House of Representatives from New York City, was involved in a ****** scandal related to sexting, or sending explicit ****** material by cell phone. On June 16, 2011, ****** announced his intention to resign from Congress with his official resignation occurring on June 23, 2011.)
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
I'm surprised we're having a picnic on the east wing!
Our company almost never gives us anything!
Underpaid with no benefits makes this picnic even better
To think I was going to give in my resignation letter
With so many hamburgers, hot dogs, and more,
It's a fast food restaurant galore!
A table packed full with yummies.
Today, a lot of beef will be in tummies.
People reaching for their plates
The caterers come out of their waits
One by one, they serve each voracious goer
For a pay that probably couldn't get any lower
Janice comes, with her broken polish and nails
And a scream a joy echos out like whales
She's so drunk, oh my god haha she's so wired
It's the unpaid overtime or another threat of being fired
Poor thing... we finish our girl talk
and problems on my mind, I begin to walk
Feeling my appetite begin to poke me,
I bite into my hamburger with resounding glee
Nipping the bread, it's fluff presses against my lips
I close my eyes, as my senses go in dips
The precious aroma of divine baked bread
As my tongue and bun are set to wed.
Each bud met with delicious waters of steak
The ketchup creating a dreamy, saucy lake
Scrumptious, delicious
Incredible, nutritious...?
It doesn't matter, I've met my goal
And the taste, goodness it makes my mind roll
Forgetting everything while I finish the rest
Golly, this food is the best
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 3:52 PM UTC
Closure invents a reason to let go;
that hoped-for last **** is
anything but
Life is cataclysmic.
Seizing an imagined moment
in a now that ends
before its beginning
signifies a slavery to transience
so complete and pervasive
that words heave and shudder
in its withering folly
Timeless puzzles are incompletable
by artifice; rather, resignation
to disparate pieces,
and identification with neither
the pieces that didn't fit,
nor those that did
The period does not
complete the sentence.
The sentence ends
when it is finished.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
invisible isotopes
gently rain down
onto the chins
of infants
we whisk
them
away with
soft kisses
tiny
irradiated
dust flakes
float onto
boutonniereless
lapels
we brush them
off with fresh
carnations
Oak leaves
blown from
denuding limbs
by soft puffs of
radioactive
plumes
are shaken
from our
door mats
green grass
sprinkled with
Strontium 90
is mowed
and mixed
into our
compost piles
the pristine
waters
of March
are laced with
uranium
tainted
iodine
it coolly
slakes
our
piqued
thirst
the rouge rose
gilded with
a golden plush
of soft plutonium
is plucked
to adorn late
evening
dinner tables
and exchanged
by sweethearts
as amorous
gestures
of resignation
between
condemned
lovers
Oakland
3/28/11
jbm
Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
Two frowns wait for the other to speak:
One long and melancholy,
The other expectant, so fraught and weak.
The boy looks to his dog as though to his lover:
“I wish I could give you everything you wanted;
Life only interferes.”
His mate saunters on, lays low
So he fears, in resignation,
“What is it that keeps your devotion so clear?”
She, silent, in anticipation
“I do not know,” he responded. “But it is not here.”
So the blank canvas continued to be:
His mate continued sniffling unknowingly.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
Upon my face, a mask
Carved with confidence
And riddled with resolve.
Upon my face, a sneer
That says I can see
Past the cynicism.
Upon my face, the sort of
"I can handle it"
That picks people's noses
Up from their smartphones.
Upon my face, a mask
Smoothed to the demands
Of a society that can't tell
Success from suffering
Or defeat from resignation
Because it's too busy
Swooning over the dream
At the end
And won't wake up long enough
To admire the journey.
A society that I conform to
Because what other voices
Are telling me anything different?
Upon my face, a lie.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC
A shadow with darkened eyes.
She's fine. She says she is just fine.
Her lips say everything is right.
Even her eyes have learned to lie.
But the sunlight strikes the lenses,
And just once she lets me see, just once,
The hazel wound behind her veil.
She begs for me to understand,
But fights so hard to blind me.
Just for a little while I see
The quiet acceptance of a dying world,
A growing, inexpressed hatred of mankind.
A terror of inadequacy, never being enough.
A silent resignation of just how much less she is.
Resent for the blame, the debt of an unknown people,
A plea to just forget the shame of her own sullied hands.
She's dying for someone to know,
To have no more to hide,
To abandon logic and composure
And forget what is expected, which she cannot fulfill.
Who says that she is now free?
Who can claim she was ever bound?
But reason makes her stop,
And pretend the world's alive.
To hide her weakness deeper
In order to survive.
To illuse the populace to thinking she rose above.
She steps out of the sunlight.
The glimpse is gone,
Her insecurity erased.
Once again, a paradigm of confidence and self-worth.
The mask is on, the shroud let down.
No one could ever doubt her.
No one will see the child with hazel eyes.
If you asked her, she'd deny it.
Just a child with hazel eyes.
Even in confession, she finds a way to hide.
I have left the mirror.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC
your words make me
ache as far as a torch
stretched between murky-
blank pages
do not wait to scrawl your
truths until heavy resignation
creeps over my head like
a dark shawl
do not wait -
- I miss
everything and nothing
and (god
**** it)
the philosopher was right in
assuming a search for completion
leads only to a sort of frustrated
compassionate silence,
so
tired of being tired of growing
weary with assumptions,
mad libs of the spirit, only
fill in the line with whatever
you dream might be,
no
let me know you, the real
uncensored and true
(I can love) you
I feel like a child being spelled at
to keep the F-I-L-I-B-U-S-T-E-R for
adult ears only but even though
I admit the fact
- I know next to nothing
my heart desperately
wishes to know
you, everything.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 10:13 PM UTC
Through lines
attach themselves to me
I'm a zip line zipping through the canopy.
Zip lines
through lines
My life in dots and dashes.
There was that darkness
before I was born
don't remember much about that.
Parents were through lines
for a long while
then they died
grandparents before
they all had their time
through lines
zip lines
strings
the true string theory.
Homesickness, school, bullies, too
the Sunday Night Blues
riding those zip lines
through lines
what are you gonna do
they aren't leaving you.
************
Resignation
private fantasies
too private to tell
through lines too
on the old zip line.
The voices in your mind
that's been a through line
through and through.
Poverty that was true too
that's what happens when you
peak too soon
and
you're a late bloomer too.
Children, the through lines
children of children
and you too
through lines zipping through
along the old zip line.
Poetry, a through line
sharing secrets
sacred circles
those are through lines too.
Body parts
hearts, limbs, lungs, guts and toes
though those tonsils
had to go.
Every breath
Every heart beat.
My through lines
your through lines
we all got'em
parallel points on parallel lines
I can't say
I know we sometimes together zip
along that same highway
then one will fade
and one will go away.
But where we all meet
each day,
I can say,
in the molecules
of every breath we take.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
Holding down a button
Until everything turns
Black as pitch
Is just like clutching
Someone's throat
Until they can't
Move another inch.
So much life and vibrance
Flashes across this screen,
Yet it seems to tear
happiness apart
At its fragile seams.
Technology is quick,
It's capabilities are ample,
Yet my mind has gone slow
From ingesting only samples.
As such,
It is time for me to quickly depart,
For using you has made me
Everything but
Smart.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
When she brushed his hand aside, he had to think;
to search the heart, adrift in the body,
to find a way that would make things clear,
but all that came was a breath of air
,
and it carried with it some words,
spoken with resignation,
that spelled a plea:
“don’t make me beg”, he said.
Half a world away, a man rested beside a woman.
she looked up at him and brushed his hand
along her breast.
when it came to rest, at last
, along a thigh and probed between,
she brushed his hand aside, and breathed
a breath of air that said,
“don’t…”
a moment passed, maybe three.
“make me beg…”, she whispered.
20 September 2013
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
I think I understand hookups and one-night stands now.
The key to moving on is to replace all that stood before
until there stands nothing that may cause you to unravel.
Moment by moment,
conversation by conversation,
I replace the replays,
I can't bear the thought
of another touching me, like I'm not yours.
I got another ring today, all big and loose.
It's funny how I picked this one,
it keeps slipping off my fingers like you did.
It's been two months since I last wore your ring.
I don't see a difference between them,
it feels the same on my thumb.
and that should be the end of it,
but oh well, I guess it isn't.
I walked to the grocery store, paused at an aisle,
took my time frowning over chocolate bars.
You used to get me Munch, and so I picked the Mars bar.
I don't skip meals now, (well, most days I don't)
and in place of our routine conversations,
I play a random show.
I drown noise with noise.
My days are decent.
I'm surrounded by mindless jibber jabber.
I participate.
I paste a bright smile.
“You look well now,” they say,
“Well, I am” I reply.
And I am fine. (I think I am?)
9/10 times I am.
Then in a random mundane moment,
memories of you resurface like a ring light and
in that single moment,
I let myself crumble.
“I don't want him back.
He's changed now.
So have you and so what?
If it's meant to be, it'll be.
He's the love of my life.
Well don't let him in,
when (not if) he comes back.
Do it from love, not for it.
You deserve happiness.
Both of you do.
You want love.
You are love.
The ocean doesn't look for its water,
Why will you look for what you have?
It is what it is.
and this too shall pass.”
So on and so forth my inner monologue goes on,
and I stare at my phone wondering if I can conjure you from my thoughts.
I am kinder now.
With myself, and everyone around.
I wish I were kinder to you, but I was just a child.
I know you're proud,
and I am of you too.
Do you think I can sculpt my favourite version of you?
Wait, no.
I already did that,
I loved all of you
and then everything fell apart.
My thoughts swirl and I let them play.
Incantations in my head
Obligatory 3 am, weary sighs, contempt and rage.
Oh, so much rage.
Where is the calming lull of sleep, when you need it to sedate your despair?
Resignation sets in, I play a familiar game.
I ask the universe and unbiasedly it delivers the same day.
"Universe, give me a sign, I'm really done this time.
Yellow flowers if he's coming back,
Dandelions if he's not.
Universe let me move on. This is the last time, "
In my version of He loves me, he loves me not
I break flowers, not petals.
I look for answers in colours and not action,
And then I saw a dozen Dandelions.
Jan 17, 2024
Jan 17, 2024 at 4:40 PM UTC
Well now, I used to teach.
I mean, I still do, but it's only for their benefit now, isn't it?
It's like the doctors and the greengrocers
and the streetsweepers and librarians,
still going through the motions
while they take recordings and what have you.
I guess we should be glad
that they're interested in the way we lived,
you know,
before they arrived.
But my kids, you know,
they're all actors.
They might learn the odd piece
of arcane knowledge
but I can tell they know
they don't need it.
No, no, I'm no rebel
I don't want any trouble.
Things are better since they arrived,
of course they are.
I mean, their technology -
we couldn't have come up with that
in a million years.
And they're very polite.
I have a colleague who says
this is because they feel guilty about their success,
but I don't know about that.
Things were bad for a while,
but I guess maybe that was our fault.
We didn't know how to react.
We adjusted poorly.
It's hard to accept that you're, you know,
obsolete.
Even me, you know.
For a while there I was,
well,
I was drinking a little too much.
It was hard, seeing the school destroyed.
They've done a good job
with the facsimile though.
even smells the same.
Yup,
can't complain.
Can't complain.
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
Up went the roar of the crowd,
Ascending, volumes above, beyond
The everyday murmur of pestering silence.
A futile struggle to withstand its force,
Like a vast wave, rogue and raging,
Slamming nature, a slap in the face of feebleness,
This crowd roars…
Not anger, not anguish, or grief,
But a prideful scream of declaration;
The masses make it known, and known again,
Fists raised, pulverizing the air to a beat
Of human design, of togetherness, of solidarity
In the fight for those like us, a howl,
This crowd roars…
Stampeding feet berate the beaten earth,
Invigorated legs supporting pounding hearts,
To a beat, rolling with the flow,
Energy infusing the soul, encased in flesh, bone, and blood;
Marching onward, forward, processional strides
Declaring and making it known with battle cries,
This crowd roars…
Shouts of proclamation echo the strident resistance
With thunder, earth-quaking, walls crumbling, chains shattering
With thunder, dancing against the discordant system;
Proud warriors raising flags of protest
Amidst the roar, roister, and riots, rising reactionaries
Refusing submission, declining resignation,
This crowd roars…
Bounded together, by blood, by common cause,
Mingling masses of forgotten arise with a vocal
Outcry, intense, pulsing from the core (of us)
Like an infestation, infuriated, a torrent swarm (of us)
Flowing upwards, eroding all obstructions.
Declare, proclaim, announce, request, demand,
This crowd roars…
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC