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"ringless" poems
I was doing research in Hubei Where they executed Yu, That deity soldier glorified By Buddhists, Taoists too, I sat perusing manuscripts That dated from the Ming, And came across a reference About Yu’s finger ring. A ring of gold so broad that it Would fit a peasant’s wrist, For Guan Yu was a mighty man His ring, an amethyst, Set round with groups of diamonds It was lost the day, they said, That Sun Quan had ordered them To lop off Guan Yu’s head. They lost it for a thousand years It turned up with the Ming, Was lost again in battle with That mighty force, the Qing, I’d heard it round the market place A whisper, now and then, That ring, it might have surfaced In the village of Maicheng. I scoured the streets and alleyways For signs of old antiques, Researching as I went, I walked Around the town for weeks, I found a backstreet corner shop One night, and open late, Run by a dodgy Chinaman A total reprobate. He had links to the Triads, they Would come into the shop, A shifty group of gangsters with Their stolen goods to pop, From where I sat with manuscripts Up on the second floor, I’d look straight down the staircase Watch them come in through the door. One day they brought in a bundle Tied up in a burlap sack, Threw it down on the counter, said: ‘What do you make of that?’ Fang Zhang then opened the parcel and He pulled out a giant hand, The flesh the texture of leather with A monstrous golden band. The ring was almost immoveable The hand, with fingers spread, Could grasp a maiden around the waist Or crush a warrior’s head, I held my breath as the Triad tried To disengage the thing, And all the while the diamonds flashed On that massive golden ring. Fang Zhang paid over a block of notes That looked more like a brick, There must have been a million Yuan From what I saw of it, The Triad left and I caught my breath Fang Zhang had pulled it off, He threw the hand in a ******* bin And then I left the shop. He hid the ring as I walked on through I had to get some air, I’d caught a glimpse of a famous ring, A thing I couldn’t share, They’d say it didn’t exist, that I Was dreaming, if I tried, They thought that it had been lost to view The day that Yu had died. I went back down the following day The Police were there in force, They stood out front and barred the way From normal *********** They told me through an interpreter Of the ****** of Fang Zhang, His face was black, for around his neck Was a massive, ringless hand! David Lewis Paget (Pronunciation: Guan Yu - Gwon you Hubei - Who - bay; Sun Quan - Sun Chu-arn Qing - Ching; Maicheng - My - cheng Fang Zhang - Fang Shjang (soft J))
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Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
Guan Yu's Finger Ring
I was doing research in Hubei Where they executed Yu, That deity soldier glorified By Buddhists, Taoists too, I sat perusing manuscripts That dated from the Ming, And came across a reference About Yu’s finger ring. A ring of gold so broad that it Would fit a peasant’s wrist, For Guan Yu was a mighty man His ring, an amethyst, Set round with groups of diamonds It was lost the day, they said, That Sun Quan had ordered them To lop off Guan Yu’s head. They lost it for a thousand years It turned up with the Ming, Was lost again in battle with That mighty force, the Qing, I’d heard it round the market place A whisper, now and then, That ring, it might have surfaced In the village of Maicheng. I scoured the streets and alleyways For signs of old antiques, Researching as I went, I walked Around the town for weeks, I found a backstreet corner shop One night, and open late, Run by a dodgy Chinaman A total reprobate. He had links to the Triads, they Would come into the shop, A shifty group of gangsters with Their stolen goods to pop, From where I sat with manuscripts Up on the second floor, I’d look straight down the staircase Watch them come in through the door. One day they brought in a bundle Tied up in a burlap sack, Threw it down on the counter, said: ‘What do you make of that?’ Fang Zhang then opened the parcel and He pulled out a giant hand, The flesh the texture of leather with A monstrous golden band. The ring was almost immoveable The hand, with fingers spread, Could grasp a maiden around the waist Or crush a warrior’s head, I held my breath as the Triad tried To disengage the thing, And all the while the diamonds flashed On that massive golden ring. Fang Zhang paid over a block of notes That looked more like a brick, There must have been a million Yuan From what I saw of it, The Triad left and I caught my breath Fang Zhang had pulled it off, He threw the hand in a ******* bin And then I left the shop. He hid the ring as I walked on through I had to get some air, I’d caught a glimpse of a famous ring, A thing I couldn’t share, They’d say it didn’t exist, that I Was dreaming, if I tried, They thought that it had been lost to view The day that Yu had died. I went back down the following day The Police were there in force, They stood out front and barred the way From normal *********** They told me through an interpreter Of the ****** of Fang Zhang, His face was black, for around his neck Was a massive, ringless hand! David Lewis Paget (Pronunciation: Guan Yu - Gwon you Hubei - Who - bay; Sun Quan - Sun Chu-arn Qing - Ching; Maicheng - My - cheng Fang Zhang - Fang Shjang (soft J))
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85
I have worn a ring Ever since I remember the first. I woke upto a lit’le golden shine On my li’lest finger. I grew into a walkable, And it got tighter. Then they removed it and gave me a diamond studded one on my 8th birthday. I wore it on my index. I grew into my teens And it got tighter. Then I got outta teens. And it got tighter all the same. Then a brown haired chap took pity on me And proposed me. With a ring. A silver one. I wore it on my ring finger. Then it saw me for a long time. And it got tighter. And I separated direction from The brown haired chap. So, I dropped the ring And whoosh it flew into the tracks with the faintest bounce. Then, I was a woman. The ringless finger ached my periphery. I thought of my diamond ring . And I sold it next morning at the Jewellers. I got a Platinum ring, after a lotta confused psychology to take the decision. I felt a pauper signboard afar. I wore it on my middle finger. And, I smoked a cigarette And I drank *** With the platinum shining on my middle finger. Then I took pity on a black eyed fellow And slept with him in a drunken state. Morning I woke up with my bright sneer dimming down. My ring was gone. The black eyed chap stole it. My platinum ring. I never wore a ring Ever again. I smoke the cigarette And I drink the *** With none a ring. I will, Will to be buried without Any of the Same.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
I had a Ring
Saw you today first time in months you hurried by got something to hide like when I walked in on you sticking your knee to another woman's like glue ringless married man you didn't have a clue I stood there the energy between the two of you could be felt And suddenly you were aware so you stood up like a mole looking out of its hole it's what I need not what I want like when I heard other women on a guy's answering machine Right near your office she's been installed you're no longer bald short brown hairs now cover half your head like a newly sprouted lawn trying to impress? I think you've already caught, your catch has been bought I can't compete I sensed this last year from her in e-mails to you "oh you're so funny" "oh, that was so great" must of been an exciting meeting for you to get such a wet greeting Wish I didn't care Just forget him they say I guess today is supposed to be the day
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Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
Replaced
One almost tore away my wall One almost said he chooses me Another almost made me fall One almost finally set me free But almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades Fool's gold has luster and sweet are borrowed serenades You can't call it love I'll call your bluff because almost is only almost and that's not enough A roller coaster only climbing missing the train by a minute's timing A frozen bud in a snap of cold An unfinished novel, story untold A sentence fragment A muddled accent A pantomimed kiss A swing and a miss A pencil sketch A warm up stretch A suspended chord A ringless lord A lightning bolt, no rain or thunder A child at play, no sense of wonder Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades Fool's gold has luster and sweet are borrowed serenades You can't call it love I'll call your bluff because almost is only almost and that's not enough I almost love you too I almost let you in I almost wish I was the one I can almost begin again And even if the words only almost rhyme I only almost care by the end of the lines While I could almost forget, in truth I find that I will always remember how you were almost mine
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
Almost
When we met, you were an eye in the storm Stressed, hired at the last minute and expected to perform without training or experience in front of the big male bosses You gave me comfort and little endearments a well dressed if not too handsome man in tight fighting pressed pants and shirts And I took notice as your gaze lingered and your ringless finger waved at me causing me to wonder But now I know you're not all that You are ringless so you can flirt and I've seen you in action a couple of times after you tired of me because you always seem to tire of us and go "home" and now you no longer seek me out or take much notice except in passing or on accident and I thought it was me but it's not, it's never me with a guy like you You went to the next and the next And there are now layers of them padding your world and I am on the outside One layer new in your office to make the year bright such a pretty young face infuses your world with life and you seem more energetic and have let what's left of your hair grow out around the lower half of your skull in a thin layer of fuzz to remind everyone that you are still a man with a body that produces enough brown colored hair to still be visible and not a plucked chicken with nothing Forget him, I am told and have tried so hard to do but I don't like being discarded like my mother tossed me aside it brings it all up again, all the pain and desperation and self hatred Sitting in the silence where you want a presence Being unnoticed when you want attention But I did better without her, felt better without her and if I could survive that, I will be OK now
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Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 9:34 AM UTC
A Member of the Crowd
When we met, you were an eye in the storm Stressed, hired at the last minute and expected to perform without training or experience in front of the big male bosses You gave me comfort and little endearments a well dressed if not too handsome man in tight fighting pressed pants and shirts And I took notice as your gaze lingered and your ringless finger waved at me causing me to wonder But now I know you're not all that You are ringless so you can flirt and I've seen you in action a couple of times after you tired of me because you always seem to tire of us and go "home" and now you no longer seek me out or take much notice except in passing or on accident and I thought it was me but it's not, it's never me with a guy like you You went to the next and the next And there are now layers of them padding your world and I am on the outside One layer new in your office to make the year bright such a pretty young face infuses your world with life and you seem more energetic and have let what's left of your hair grow out around the lower half of your skull in a thin layer of fuzz to remind everyone that you are still a man with a body that produces enough brown colored hair to still be visible and not a plucked chicken with nothing Forget him, I am told and have tried so hard to do but I don't like being discarded like my mother tossed me aside it brings it all up again, all the pain and desperation and self hatred Sitting in the silence where you want a presence Being unnoticed when you want attention But I did better without her, felt better without her and if I could survive that, I will be OK now
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33
Your ringless finger misled me, but I can't blame you. Months ago, wondering, flirtations, gaps of time, trying to forget, going back to take the drink of you. Truth should have pushed me off this horse. What does love feel like? Inside, the child is still alone, waiting for her mother. Watching for a sign of her, Bereft as wind howls through her empty heart. What does love taste like? If I knew, I wouldn't lie like this, Watching and waiting like a hungry cat hunting for your glance, Like an ignored dog, wagging it's tail at the slightest sign of attention.
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May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
Alone
Then there’s the attire. You spend hours checking yourself out in the mirror, the drool across the floor, tight white of your dress and the ******* smothered in lace. Step back, look at that face. The realisation seeping in like blood into a bandage that you are almost ready. A cast of a hundred or so seen-once-in-two-years with eyes on your eyes, the cold finger ringless for just a few seconds more. Here it is then, the moment when you settle down as a child clambering into bed for a parent-read tale. You have chosen this man with this face and these hands and he will do. The search cannot be continued. In one month, an argument. In one year, a child after the umpteenth round of relatives' questions. The story writes itself and oh how plain it seems, the predictability like gone-off milk makes you want to gag. But, you say, it’s how it goes. How it goes. The woman asks if it’s the one. You’re flummoxed for a second - the dress or the man? Yes, you reply. I think so.
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Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 6:43 PM UTC
Engaged
i still have your favorite ice cream flavor in my notes i don't want to forget it just in case I still linger on your laugh in the moments off guard, coming across your face on another's page just in case i remind myself of the curve of your voice, the tears on your cheeks, and the bulk of porta 800 in my pocket just in case i remember the smell of your skin, your ringless fingers laced in mine just in case I still hold the breath of our last "i love you"'s in the pit of my stomach just in case just in case you change your mind just in case you come home.
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Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 7:50 AM UTC
jamocha almond fudge.