"unreconciled" poems
Why is it that we never truly appreciate
The value of someone until it is too late?
A hundred flowers on a wintry grave site
A torrent of tears cried at midnight
Groanings of morning dawn prayers' sighs
Added together cannot ever realize
A past that has passed
Alas, that weighing debt
Of unreconciled regret, becomes a treasure
From which we measure
The relationships of today, tomorrow
Maturing into overflowing blessings
From that was empty sorrow
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 1:08 AM UTC
No tribal scarring marks your face
no cinder walk or thorn-pierced tongue
to prove you are no longer young
but fit to take your rightful place
Your generation never fought
And you have wished that you could see
the selfless, brave camaraderie
of which you were so often taught
Alas for you to fetch ashore
when we had lost our appetite
for making children go and fight
and briefly grieved, and said "No more!"
Condemning you, unreconciled,
to shed no blood, as real men should;
to feel that life is mostly good
Oh foolish knave! Oh hopeless child!
And saddled with this gross mistake
your quiet kindness gently spread
and harmless fascinations fed
and left no corpses in their wake
To think we looked to one unmanned
as children, hungry for a clue
of what it's right for men to do,
led, blind, by your unbloodied hand
Sought thoughts from one who could not brag
of marching forth to suicide
for waxed moustaches' sense of pride
Nor bleeding dry beneath a flag
But you had naught to tell us, save
that life is hopeful and sublime
and we should use this precious time
And I'll be grateful to the grave.
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 4:20 PM UTC
Wake up laughing
cackle into the kitchen
9:15 a.m. on Sunday
cop-outs couched in cups of coffee
Sofa King Redundant
Lock the door but no one's coming
I'm the LORD OF ALL I SURVEY!
Survey says the pilot's out
sink is full and
blinds are drawn.
It smells like sweat and silence
and a mostly empty fridge.
"Everything the light touches is yours!"
Outstanding power bill
bank statements
unreconciled
unwashed clothes
and unsent thank-you notes.
Shrink-wrapped books on how to cope.
Maybe I'll ask for a raise...
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Reckless thoughts pour over paper
Memories thicken, swell and taper
Each stroke left unreconciled
Pure white sheets with ink defiled
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC
Why oh why have we become so woke
To the point of companies going near broke,
All for the sake of garnering support
From vocal fringes, then quietly rushing to abort.
Is the effort worth the prize
Pandering to an audience that must surely realize
Division is not the path to integration
Empowering voices that just believe in denigration.
Acceptance is rarely mandated or imposed,
It's a result of customs willingly transposed
To reflect a kinder more inclusive world
And in the process eliminating the absurd.
Activism can often be the kernel for steep
Change,
But in the wrong hands is alienating and deranged,
With effects that counter all that would be good
Demeaning the very essence for which they stood.
We the silent throngs just watch and wonder,
What's brought on this wave of mindless thunder,
Strife and upheaval causing nothing but confusion,
Resulting in a world of societal delusion.
Democracy is not another word for anarchy,
Where a vocal few usurp reality for fantasy,
But one of tolerance and communal understanding
To mold a world where actions are outstanding.
Where parent is not set against their child,
Or leaving differing opinions unreconciled,
Where sexuality does not become a sword,
Or Race the blade to cut across the board.
When will politicians and the media say enough,
Accepting that their narrative is huff and gruff,
Full of potholes and dead ends
Turning people into enemies not friends?
Why not allow good sense and wisdom take the stage,
Willing denigrators to turn another page,
Supporting causes that are simply just
Thereby forging a society sure to last.
Apr 27, 2023
Apr 27, 2023 at 2:42 PM UTC
You say you don't know what to do, what to say.
Your heart is too heavy, so it starts to pray.
He refuses to listen.
Your heart aches & your eyes glisten.
This man you call father,
Now can't be bothered.
You wish to speak.
But you are tired and he is weak.
You wish to be heard.
But his memory is foggy & his prospective has blurred.
You need answers to hard questions, such as: "You've hurt me & you don't know your family... Do you even care?"
But you're greeted by silence & a confused stare.
He then mumbles how "You've got it all wrong..."
He says you're ill-informed & goes on & on.
He is the father & you are the child,
Your claim is invalid & you remain unreconciled.
The long winded lecture then turns into some maintenance "project."
It always ends this way in retrospect.
You come back home.
And collapse into the couch with a groan.
Defeated, you speak quietly through your hands.
I wait patiently for you to start so I can understand.
"...I hope Your father never becomes like him--a man who strives to hold onto nothing but ego & wealth at the expense of his family. I hope that's something you never have to see."
He looks so deflated.
His heart is heavily weighted.
I suddenly notice he's got more laugh lines around his eyes, and how we have the same chin.
People often tell me we share the same grin.
His silent doubts & unanswered questions leave him falling apart.
My hero who always fixed my "ouchies" now sits with a bruised & heavy heart.
Because his dad never said "I love you" enough.
And I don't know what to say, because mine never stopped.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 1:33 AM UTC
She said she liked my art
Except the paintings she didn’t understand
The abstracts
Except the ****** paintings
Except the paintings of women touching themselves
With glassy eyes, with fierce eyes
But she liked the rest.
Art, a spiritual pursuit
That takes energy, gives energy
Sometimes a trip into the unknown
Sometimes, but not always.
The grinding of light and dark
Male and female
Of love and anger
(And indifference, sadly)
The unreconciled, the out-of-balance.
The enlightened, the flashes of wisdom
That disappear over the horizon
Like a flock of ravens. Misanthropes all.
New work, new words, new insights
Bubble up from deep down in imaginary worlds.
Don’t mind the chaos
Creativity is chaos.
Nature isn’t what we want it to be
Nature lives by its own rules
Prerogatives
The endless search
To claim little bits of sun energy
And the cycles of water
In search of the ocean
Yet again.
The creative force of nature
Chaotic, full of competition.
And destruction.
Of those things
Beautiful things are sometimes made.
Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful,
We must carry it with us or we find it not.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 8:15 AM UTC
This is the only place were I can recognize me
Maybe?
I look in the mirror and there.
You aren’t.
You are washed up and dry
Peaceful and without pride
Dying inside
My outside is what I see
Only physical in the light
-My insides-
“They desire me.”
Some people think we are one and the same.
I hear the person that I will be.
He calls my name…
Waiting for me to choose the paths…
I am a torn beast.
Unreconciled and sometimes dangerous
Waiting on myself and then moving quickly.
Desperate by nature
Is anyone there?
There is only me
The rules aren’t fair
Someone punches me.
I arrive here.
I look up.
Staring at the animal I see
Maybe it isn’t?
Surely
My insides spill out.
Vomiting my thoughts; releasing everything.
I look up.
There I am.
Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 5:58 PM UTC
Under your
big nippled
tops.
delicious back
somersault
tumbles,
tickling my
chin as you
would
fly by
over head.
trampoline
spike
bounces
off my
Coppertone
brown
belly ,
as you
would
melt
over me
and my
thighs
applaud....
our passion
was a
three
ring circus
then.
contortionist,
soul grapplers
and sin.
and what
is left
to us
now but
scars
still
unreconciled,
inside
and out,
cuts unkind
that
validate
the ticket
and price
of our
love's admission
we each
paid full ticket
that summer.
to be
even for
the shortest
of times,
under your
big nippled
tops.
the greatest
show on
earth.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
Moving towards what makes you scared,
Seems dangerous,
But doing it we must!
Safety is not embracing or accepting of what we know,
there is a certain disquietude with familiar dread
That comes from internal conversations unreconciled
What to do with who we are now, in the moments ahead.
Trust the “ letting go,” for fear is only an abusive perspective.
Many of us cling to our fears, doubts, self-loathing or hatred
Clutched comparative choices walk hand in hand.
with the desire, the wanting,
to be rid ourselves of disempowerment.
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 8:49 AM UTC
I live in split reality
unreconciled duality
And wait with anxious, twisting hands
For someone to say they understand.
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 12:04 AM UTC
Hope flies out the window fast
Bottom empty no repast,
Moment born of cancers’ child
Status hangs unreconciled
Woe be they who lay it thin
Who stalk these dark nights, plundering.
Woe be they who keep their guard
Abreast, and lo behold, ******
That which causes heart to sing
Despite the hurt imbued within.
Solitary, lonely way
Through this enigmatic day.
When, in truth, potentials lie
Through yonder, bright magenta sky,
Through reams of iridescent verse
Orated daily, unrehearsed,
Bowls of olives, black, in oil
Turkish loaf, foccascia foil
laughing girls in skimpy skirts
Raucous till he belly hurts….
But futile in this state of woe
As bitter bile now sours the show.
Towering in halls of cloud
Mouthing ,hard, jawbone aloud
Struggling to hold intact
Counterpoints to interact,
Damning inconsistencies,
Weak deniability’s
Betrayal slides In cuts of time
Agonising back teeth grind
Quivering in searing pain
Every good, undone again.
Stalking hard to places thin
Solitude… eviscerating,
Emptiness imbues the light
Shatters soul in shoals of fright,
Delve hopelessly to hopeless ways
Scream as light refracts in waves,
Wallowing to places thin
Wavering to lost within.
Weakness in the cold half light
Shattered prospects drenched in fright,
Rabid eyes withdrawn in face
Incarcerate hot hatred’s trace.
Better now in light of day
Sunshine beaming in to play,
***** count resumes its gain
Flocculant reduces pain
Shame slides in the door ajar
Embarrasment impinged afar.
Amazing how a cup of tea
Resurects the life in me.
M.
14 April 2019
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 12:23 AM UTC
A void resides within my soul,
No treasure to bestow, no role.
What I lack, I cannot prize,
My heart, a barren, empty guise.
No love I offer, cold and stark,
For love unreturned leaves a bitter mark.
A fool I was, a foolish plea,
To give and give, eternally.
Life's harsh lesson, etched in stone,
Kindness now, a path unknown.
For kindness given, unreturned,
Leaves wounds that fester, unreconciled.
And if you're late, my patience wanes,
No sorrow felt, no empathy strains.
Your shirt, half-open, a careless grace,
Reveals a world beyond this place.
A world where fleeting moments fly,
And love's true worth, we barely try
To grasp, to hold, to understand,
A fragile thing, across the land.
Aug 14, 2025
Aug 14, 2025 at 11:36 PM UTC
under your
big tops.
delicious back
somersault
tumbles,
tickling my
chin as you
would
fly by
over head.
trampoline
spike
bounces
off my
Coppertone
brown
belly ,
as you
would
melt
over me
and my
thighs
applaud....
our passion
was a
three
ring circus
then.
contortionist,
soul grapplers
and sin.
and what
is left
to us
now but
scars
still
unreconciled,
inside
and out,
cuts unkind
that
validate
the ticket
and price
of our
love's admission
we each
paid full ticket
that summer.
to be
even for
the shortest
of times,
under your
big tops.
the greatest
show on
earth.
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 10:20 AM UTC