Poem of the Week: The Breakup

The Breakup
April 17, 2017

It’s over. It’s done. It’s finished. We’re through.
What else can I say to get it through to you?
I’ve broken up with you a while ago as things stand,
Yet you keep contacting me in an effort to demand
The attention I once gave you for three whole years.
I gave us all I had, but never once did I hear
From you how grateful you were for my unbridled love,
Not even during those times when push came to shove.
All give, no take—such was my end in the deal.
Now that we’re no longer one, let’s see how you feel,
Now that I’ve stopped giving. Let’s see what you can take.
Let’s see just how long now before you finally break,
‘Cause only then will you know exactly how I’ve been
These past three years plus time after time again.
Trouble is, though, I doubt you’ll change your tune at all,
And the next sap you hook up with will be forced to fall
For your charms and other nonsense just like I had.
My best wishes to him, though, for no one needs it so bad
As what I’d suffered from you, and I’m sure glad I’m gone
From your life forevermore, and I hope after this song
That I never need to return to you ever again,
For I know what you’re all about now from back when,
And hopefully other people will see you for who you are,
Albeit the easy way, for this nasty facial scar
I still bear from our days is too much of a reminder
For me of all those times you’ve put me through the grinder.
Hopefully, no one else will have to bear such a burden
Of warning others of you, but hey…I’m done hurtin’.
I’m moving on with my life far away from you,
No longer concerning myself with what you say or do,
Lest you’re hurting someone else. Then in that case,
I’ll put my foot back down and get right back in your face
To put you back in your place where you bloody belong
According to the frustration you surely feel from this song.
Otherwise, take the hint from one who all too well
Knows the stunts you pull, which’ll surely send you to Hell:
Cut out the nonsense right now and go the hell away
And never return to bother anyone else another day.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com


Poem of the Week: Another Random Poem about Letting Go

Another Random Poem about Letting Go
April 4, 2016

Letting go ain’t always easy
When it comes to that which you love,
But it’s a painful thing
When the same thing
Doesn’t love you back, love.

It may have fit you like a hand in a glove
And made you want to sing
Once upon a time,
But as sublime
As it was, it soon starts to sting,

For things don’t always stay the same thing
And are apt to change over time,
Be it blessing or curse,
For better or for worse,
And it often feels like a crime.

I know, for many interests of mine
Have turned out for the worst—
Over here a change,
There a rearrange
‘Til my lips I’m forced to purse,

And I’m left to deal somehow with this curse.
How do I cope with this change?
Do I stick around
And let things get me down
And cope with what’s been rearranged,

Or do I move on to a whole new range
And see what else might be around
In which to invest time
And, in turn, make mine
To bring my anxiety down?

There must be something I can do to put down
This raging bitterness of mine
That’s carving a hole
Into my soul
And driving me out of my mind.

There must be some way to leave behind
This drama that’s taken its toll
On this life I know,
For jaded I now grow
As I carry on growing old.

Alas, in terms of purging my soul,
I’ve found nowhere to go,
And I aimlessly wander
Here and yonder
Looking for what, I don’t know.

If I find it, however, I’ll know,
And no more will I need to ponder.
I’ll stop feeling queasy,
And things’ll be easy
For me at last somewhere yonder.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com

Poem of the Week: Happy Little Maple

Happy Little Maple
July 28, 2015

Oh, happy little maple, I grew you from a seed
I’d planted in my back yard, and much water did I feed
You as you sat there happily sprouting from the ground,
Soaking in the sunlight that shined down all around.

Oh, happy little maple, the pains I took gladly
For days, weeks, months—all in hopes you’d grow to be
A happier, bigger maple, strong like any other tree
With bushy branches long and proud for all the world to see.

Oh, how I’d have loved to see such a one-tree canopy,
But alas, little maple, such was not the fate for thee,
For o’er the past few weeks, Mother Nature’s had her days
When for some reason, she decided not to let things go that way.

Oh, how the wind did howl, then! Oh, how the rain poured down!
Such a ceaseless, sour torrent to mark Mother Nature’s frown—
So sour, in fact, that your branches, soft and thin as they were,
Just couldn’t take the pressure, hence their snapping into spurs.

Oh, how your limbs just hung there after all was said and done
When the wind and the rain finally stopped and out came the sun
To heat the humid air so and remind us all of the season
As we saw the aftermath of Nature’s fit, regardless of reason.

Oh, sad and sundered maple, you weren’t happy anymore,
Naught but stumps a-sticking out from where your branches tore.
To think that all the time I’d spent had been flushed down the drain.
Damn you, Mother Nature, for causing me such pain!

Oh, crippled, creaking maple, I hated to see you suffer,
But alas, you fractured condition I just couldn’t buffer,
No matter how much I wished to see you standing tall and free
And proud out in the open like how things used to be.

Oh, broken, bitter maple, you so deserved to live,
But a swift release from your misery was all that I could give,
So I hope you forgive the handsaw I had to take to you,
For alas, dear gentle maple, ‘twas all that I could do.

Oh, how I wept as I sawed you this way and that,
Reducing you to logs no bigger than a housecat.
Oh, how my tears did flow then like the rain from that fateful day,
Stinging even as I used my free hand to wipe them away,

And now, miserable maple, you sit as part of a pile
By my shed in the backyard, not to be touched for a while—
For several months, in fact, when the first snow falls
And the wind again blows fiercely, fracturing other trees and all.

I’m sorry, little maple, for ‘tis all I could do,
And forever am I reminded of all I’d sought for you.
If only I was Nature, I’d watch my Ps and Qs
And make sure I didn’t do what that bitch had done to you.

Oh, how I hate excuses—especially making them—
But if nothing else, I have the chance to become a father again,
For here in a small bucket, its tight-fitting lid sealed shut,
I keep your brothers and sisters in a dry space in my hut,

And once again, butchered maple, I’ll plant your kind from seed,
Keeping your sibling safe from the diabolical deed
That claimed your life, all the while feeding water and sun
To your budding sibling, hoping one day he or she will become

The same kind of happy little maple you’d been before,
Albeit a little stronger so when Nature kicks down the door
And throws her tantrum, he or she will survive the whole ordeal,
And when that happens, I’ll purge myself of this grief I feel.

Rest in peace then, little maple, for though you’ve passed on,
Your legacy shall not yet end, but instead grow strong,
And I’ll move forward from this tragedy we’ve both endured,
Now that my resolution as a parent has been stirred.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com