"righting" poems
It was a blur,
the day we met.
Thank you for the memories,
I am forever in you debt.
I never imagined anyone
staying till the end.
Least of all you,
who became my best friend.
Thank you for the memories.
They’re something I shall cherish.
Till the end of time
and until I perish.
You, my friend,
you made me strong.
You stood by my side,
righting my wrong.
You accepted me
without a second thought.
You do not know
the joy you bought.
You were there for me
you always listened.
You were a gem
who always glistened.
It is difficult to imagine
my life without you.
If you weren't there,
who would I turn to?
Thank you for the memories.
My one and only treasure.
Being your friend has been
an honour and a pleasure.
You were there for me
when times were rough.
You were there for me
when times were tough.
You always caught me
each time I fell.
You always saw through me.
How, I can never tell.
You are unique
for you’re one of a kind.
People like you are
very difficult to find.
Thank you for the memories.
They’ll stay with me forever more.
You were the greatest friend
I could ever wish for.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
Unreality: Thanksgiving Miami Style
It is 70 degrees, afternoon,
sunny Miami winter style.
Nike shorts, flip flops,
polo shirt white,
music, pandora, and
no place he
needs to be.
the collected works and
worries, left behind,
the boy, and he is taking
it to the limit,
wanting a day of no cares,
one more time.
yet, recollecting, writing
impertent, dissatisfied,
no reason, none that I can
irrationally explain.
previous night,
my eyes have
seen the
second-coming.
everybody smiles
happy, looking fit,
tight black dresses
the law of the land.
food flows like wine,
wine flows like water.
lose track of the numbers,
glasses of Cortese di Gavi,
cold and white refilled
in the Miami heat,
exactly, how old am I,
and where
my eyes should
not be staring,
bodies intended
to maim,
after they
**** you.
it is a long-short tale,
how it came to be,
that I am living thanksgiving
in the unreality of Miami style.
was supposed be at the
head of the table carving,
giving secret tastes to
numerous grandchildren,
multiple dogs,
defrosting after the
Macy's Day Parade.
my children, their
kith and kin.
that was supposed to be
my New York reality,
at the head of the table.
divorce, monkey wrench,
I am in a different state,
a different table, a
welcome bystander,
but her love,
my love,
has brought me,
to unseasonal places,
higher and higher,
where I am welcomed
as her man.
not a bad unreality,
but still someone has torn
off a piece of me,
a tasty combo of
sad and guilt,
that I ******* up,
which is why this
writing is my re-righting
the ship of perspective.
maybe I am dreaming
of what was never,
could have been,
should of been,
kidding myself, with an idyll,
the unreality of an idol,
though I vague recollect,
there were meals like that.
think this is my fourth trip here,
sort of, almost a tradition.
BobbyDylan, he reminds
what that woman,
done for me,
been doing to me.
*"I was in another lifetime
one of toil and blood,
when blackness was a virtue
and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness
a creature void of form.
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter
from the storm".*
so she did,
a new reality born.
so semi-sad poem, but
happy thanks to give,
for this day,
new family
embracing, and I am
recollecting,
read somewhere,
you cannot be thankful
for having,
only for giving.
Thanksgiving
Not
Thanks-having
Thanks-receiving
New Reality: Thanksgiving Miami Style.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
From whence this identity comes
Malts, hops, father’s approval
What he holds in his arms
Is of no surprise
‘Just missing’ each other
Not likely coincidental
Star couplings, mishap earthlings
Persons never to be known
Crossed streets to
Strange neighborhoods
Lawn games… how odd
In quiet hours on the highway
Gripping, understood, elusive and all wrong
Remembering, but more forgotten
Ring passed over luminescent waters
Love, not enigmatically magical
Autumn hues in baby fine hair
Righting the nightmares
Nothing mattered more than this.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Head spinning
Feet tapping
Mind wrapping
Thought trapping
Idea capping
Desperation mapping
Quality lacking
Spaces filled
Time killed
Not thrilled
Answers willed
Nails biting
Cheaters sighting
After all nighting
Wrongs not righting
Feel like flighting
Brainpower waning
Lack of knowledge maintaining
Wisdom draining
Composure regaining
Test failing
Arms flailing
Letters mailing
Face paling
The big unveiling
No more prevailing
The action entailing:
My annihilation
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 5:04 AM UTC
After all, it has come to this as our
Laughter falls dumb and a mute glum persists while
A once gorgeous flower now reeks of rank **** in
An **** of power that seeks to dismiss that
A siren song hides a great serpent's grim hiss in
A dire long ride to a fervent abyss, but
A glorious hour now seems to persist as
A warrior throng's rising insurgent bliss
Is igniting wrong's righting, with glee
THEY RESIST
In a fight long and tiring they refuse to desist
In the night they stay strong as abuse gives its kiss
But they KNOW what is right and must make it EXIST
and when new order comes:
THE OLD WILL NOT BE MISSED
Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 8:11 AM UTC
If you asked me when I was 5
If I was going to be a girl
Dressed head to toe in black
Driving myself into an abyss of isolation
I would have said you're crazy
But part of me thinks even when I was 5
I would understand why
I would become a boundary pushing
System breaking teen
Waiting on the rest of the world to catch up to me
Tender heart to broken heart
I was wrapped in the charge
of righting the wrongs
and wronging the rights
A perfect storm of opposition
I'm grown up now,
And I wear bright colored shirts
And Let the world take care of its own karma
But I still wear black on my well polished nails.
The truth is, once you're a rebel, you never really aren't one
You just fade into the monotony of life just like everyone else
But you know that when life sparks you
You're right back to a time where the world has done you wrong.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC
Loving me is hell and hell is dense
And hell is heavy
And hell is hot
Dense with the influx of passing souls
That nudge elbows of their brother sinners
In tight elevators that hum not
Piano music but drums so loud
They convert heart beats to 808 rhythms
They shake the victims of vices so
Hard the change falls from their pockets
And bounces back up into their eyes
Hell is heavy
It is heavy with the weight of lies
And of the truths of passions sought and met
With only finger tips and white lips
The vicious bosses of mobs
And the cemented feet of snitches caught
Hell is dense
It is packed tighter than fingers in fists
Clenched fixed on righting wrongs
The air there is hot with breathes
Held in and finally released with
The unbuttoning of sliming corporate tuxes
Fastened inside out so the brass buttons brand and burn
The business boys’ bantam bodies
While they look up at the men the tired to measure up to
But where always a stich or two short
Hell is hot
Hot and steaming with the blood of the corrupt
That was spilt and then encountered a tilt
Down a funnel mixed with rotten oil
Left stagnant by sinners that sought not
To move a finger to clean up that gunk
The steam from sinners water not sweat
Boil sweet and steamy up into the
Mouths of men with jaws wired open
And rested on their bellies that are propped up
By guns taking all that is sweet for themselves
This is hell
This, like me,
Feels tastes sounds and smells
Of dense hot and heavy
Sins deadly appealing
And dammingly just.
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 6:43 PM UTC
To unearth the means of life
Is the saddest part of our ferris wheel
Every ups and downs, in peace or strife
A looping ride to our little heaven, but most a free trip to hell
There's a box of gloominess that I'd opened that I can't seal
Overflowed my mind with a lot of dark wisdom
Wound I'd self inflicted in a day, seems will take a decade to heal
If only I did not enter the too much curiosity kingdom
It's my intention to craft a masterpiece
So I've yearned crazily for knowledge
Scrambled all the colors till darkness become my art piece
A life that longing to be at the center because I am at the very edge
But then I still thank fate
For giving me the chance to travel life
To feel the air, the cool rain and the blazing heat
To have parents, brothers and a wife
To accept what life can offer and never go beyond
If only I could turn back, I'll never do myself a crime
But I'm on my way now, righting the wrong that I've done
Might take a decade to heal, but I believe in another lifetime...
Written: 01/01/2015 @ 6:30 am
Mysterious Aries
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
*A mist withers our eyes
From a destructive what is
Cloaked by the manipulation of fear
The obsessive consumption of greed
The yield of inequality
Blessing the treacherous snake
that is society
Protecting the overbearing tower of hierarchy
We are the rising hope
and the colossal downfall
Of an era so entrenched with fools' promises
and wicked minds
It is not anymore righting a wrong
so much as righting a system of wrong
Once a system of good
Which should have foretold better times
Meant to have put everything in place
But has left in its wake
A black hole that took everything
Right in all of us
In everything worth believing, worth hoping*
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
They'll not be forgotten
just moved along by the cops
they'll mumble and shuffle
avoiding a scuffle
as the guillotine, finally drops
Fighting for freedom
commendations they earned and deserve
discarding their souls
in deeper foxholes
and always doing what's needed, to serve
The days come and gone
Veterans now left out on their own
as damaged and broken
the politics spoken
but leaving them cold, and alone
We'll bang the drum slowly
and march to manicured graves
we'll sing all the songs
righting all wrongs
here, in the land of the free
and the brave
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 8:42 AM UTC
I tried to make him right for me,
see I believe in fairy tales and happy endings.
Maybe my Prince just needed a little nudge.
So i got all the wrong things about him,
and tied them up with a neat bow.
I was busy searching for love,
instead of waiting for it to come find me.
That was probably cupid I passed on the street,
I rushed by too fast for his arrow.
I played matchmaker for my lonely heart,
Got it all torn up in pieces.
I deluded myself into thinking I couldn't breathe,
I counted the seconds waiting for my heart to stop.
But it pumped on and on so slow,
It hummed to the sound of your name on my lips.
The name, that would make my heart skip a beat.
But now it just filled me with resolve to leave.
See I wasn't gonna cry another day over you.
Wasn't gonna die cause I couldn't have you.
I was going to learn to live.
I could have been with Mr. Right,
Instead I lay in bed alone, crying to the night.
Where did I go wrong? I tried to change him.
But he didn't want to be saved, he knew what it was.
A good time that I coated with love,
A relationship where he felt trapped.
See he was a free spirit and I the hunter,
I trapped him and tried to make him mine.
So am back to the point where it all began.
Finding my heart and starting it again.
I want to be the girl that makes someone stop,
the one you've been waiting for all your life.
No more Mr. Almost right for me,
Or Mr. Close enough to right.
I'm gonna wait for you, I know you're looking for me.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
Cool the temperature because you're causing immense friction
That I cant follow because of the wild wind whistling
From your speed up and down mood swinging no decision
on the thought at hand where's your plan stan are you listening?
Im sick and tired of people talking big but walking in the shadows
Shut it up unless you step it up and stop acting so small and shallow
In your ignorance nothing is fixed and you remain shameful and hollow
We have to open more doors to afford a better connection to the main core so follow
Dont speak until you're spoken to or if you know what you're sayin is worth the weight of looking like a fool
If it's for being cool then you can sit back on the stool because this game doesnt exist that you long and drool for
I'm trying to soar but I feel torn because my heart is worn on the sleeve for everybody
and its slowly rotting like the earth that we've all forgotten while we're beating and robbing from ourselves and the soul of the world taking innocence from the boys and the girls and making them dealing with the broken promises of granted wishes as long as they give all of their remniscing to the past and continue to fall just like their parent's and hit the wall shotgun call but then they're missing the lessons that taught them along the journey that teaches us how to be strong im pleasing the universe while righting the wrong.
Oct 12, 2011
Oct 12, 2011 at 12:39 AM UTC
I must caution you,
Against a world lacking conflict.
A wold enveloped in
Continual peace
is hell.
Without suffering,
Without anger,
There is no passion.
A world wothout conflict
Is a wold lacking the beauty of sacrifice
The love of conviction
The satisfaction of righting a wrong.
I must caution you,
Without wrongdoing, without war
There is no peace
Just
Consistancy.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 8:06 PM UTC
I dropped a penny into a well and wished that I never existed
I walked away feeling empty
A vague thought forming in the back of my mind:
Maybe, because the wish presented a paradox, it could not be fulfilled
I toyed with the idea of turning around
Of going back and righting the wrong
"I wish to be dead! That's not a paradox! Make it happen!"
But I lacked the motivation
All processes have been overtaken
By apathy
And for want of feeling, I continued to breathe
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC
I think I’m still moving on
Still writing music son
I’m still righting wrongs
Still writing songs
I’m still singing like nobody is listening
Even when everyone’s listening
I’m still moving rapidly
I’m still when I need to be
But I think most importantly
I’m still me..........I’m still me
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
To watch piano keys tune
Is like righting a broken bone:
Process somewhat crude
But still very much a need.
The maestro looms like a wolf,
Making every note weep
Though to the intensity he is aloof,
As if in a dream—
Or perhaps a nightmare;
He hears the shrieks and jumps,
Perhaps exaggerated by the glares
Of looming ghouls—necromancy.
The notes holding as if a pathos
Back to the world of the living.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
I love it when you think
ever so logically
You make my gears grind
and my clock tick
make my heart whirr
We could be victorious
Righting wrongs,
Triumphing over evil,
We could be playful
rolling, tumbling
bounding over eachother
I'm sure we could almost be anything we wanted.
When you truly love someone,
you don't need proof - you can feel it.
Like upside down tongue touch,
We realize what is real and what is sense
What do we really know anyhow?
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Emerging from a distant dust-up,
A lone rider approaches on horse.
The clip-clop gallop grows,
The panting animal is alarming,
Sweat paints and streaks down
The dark hide.
The rider wears a bandana
Over mouth and nose,
Beneath a once white hat.
His clothes are covered with the trail.
Next, he's in the leather tub
With suds from chest to hair,
Shaving cream covering his face,
Mirror in one hand,
Probably a gun on the floor of the tub.
Eyes and nose poking through the foam.
Later, we see the clean, pressed black shirt
From the back, outlining shoulders we know
Have been busy righting wrongs.
He puts a cockey tilt to his hat and pivots
With a Parodi between his clean, straight teeth.
The champion. The underdog vanguard.
Clint.
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
*Minutes are myths
Seconds seemed syrupy.
Each time, when we kiss, as smiles
Pave way for us, ever so close,
And the mood is righting all our wrongs,
Dear, you eat away from Time,
Biting at its ear with a giggle. No wonder,
When Manong Sorbetero passes by,
And when we hear one shouts Taho,
The passion lives on, stirring from within,
We will touch with our tongues still,
Precise, tugging at our words,
Or the sword of approval, sometimes,
Uniting us. In the distance,
There's a jealous light on a staircase
In the distance, carefully descending.
And the flashes in the sky, how majestic
May they seem, anger in colors
Of leaves and daffodils, are nothing
But a Man-of-war embarking
On the deeper seas.*
© 2016 J.S.P.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 2:53 AM UTC
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Foetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed, slumbered
In soul rummages?
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
*Watch me
See how
graceful I am
I make no mistakes
under your watchful eye
I am gilded perfection
just me and my righteousness
righting all the wrongs
while you watch
Me and the right moves
just don't take your
eyes off of me
or I become part of this massive
presence in the cosmos
doing soulfully wanton
and naughty things
shed light on me
and I become this
perfect
little
freak*
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 4:25 AM UTC
Restoration
Rebuilding
Reshaping
Filling in the fissures that have opened up
Between us
Within us
Fissures can become canyons
Sometimes suddenly
With a great roar of sound and cloud of dust
Sometimes gradually
Worn away by a river of neglect and dismissal
Both sides carry these fissures within
Wounds that can fester
How do we close these gaps?
Between us
Within us
First both must see
Acknowledge
Desire to heal
But there are no guarantees
Rebuilding relationships
Righting wrongs
Seeking and offering forgiveness
None of this can be done alone
Without community
In a vacuum
Sometimes the fissures become scars
Calcified and brittle
Painful when poked but otherwise unnoticed
The wound may heal over
But the fissure may never
Completely
Close
Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 8:16 PM UTC
Another *****
over easy on the ice and just another would be nice, but it would then progress and mess my morning up
and so I dazzle and make a cup of tea,two toast,some marmalade and look at me,as
sober as a high court judge,which is just about as sober as one can be,when one sentences to prison and relieves a man of liberty.
What Identity this man,
who can decide a span of time that another would pretend ,and inside where the attitude of days is played out on the prison walls,and in the canteens where I have seen great mountains of men fall and go to waste,
I have also seen those other men of God,men of Satan waiting for the dinner bell,and as thick as thieves they all fell into fighting righting wrongs ,dinner gongs and more mountains fall in the dining hall,more wasted words upon the wall.
1... I never did what they said
2....I was framed
3....The cops are bent
and those these words were never said or spoken each broken head and blackened eye was another,and one more reason why,
I lent myself to education,got certificates,elucidation but it was all a waste of effin time,the judge was right,send this man to jail
and ticked the fail box on his score card,
Hard labour never did me any harm ,not that it did me any good but for some it poisoned and where the blood runs hot,eyes bloodshot,riots,guns and more blood runs.
The sums seem never to add up and so I make another cup of tea and think how fortunate it was to see the end game,to see my own name written on the hand rails and when all else fails,
it's head or tails,win or lose and only one can get to choose one's
final destination
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 9:20 AM UTC
"I'll be back" threat or promise?
It's always back regardless
"Stay in your own lane"
Player one syndrome inflates the brain
"Have a nice day" not a curse
At the same time "enjoy your next 24" sounds so much worse
"Here's what you're in store for"
Is what you're gonna pay for
"No pain, no gain"
Different levels of insane
"Yo, I got sooo high"
Careful not to get stuck in the sky
"Pick yourself back up"
More often dumb luck
"First things first..."
Then substance and thirst
"Righting a wrong"
Whether right or wrong
"Gotta play to win"
Sometimes a win's a sin
Who has your back, a friend?
Then who stabs it at the end
"What you see is what you get"
Most won't get it
"Face your fear"
Pretend you don't hear
"Live carefree"
Die instantly
"And that's that"
Always the same black cat
"One step forward,
Two steps back" and cornered
"Chase your dreams forever"
A nightmare's a dreams that doesn't fight fair, so no, never
©2024
Jan 30, 2024
Jan 30, 2024 at 4:33 PM UTC