Poem of the Week: The Flighty Ones

The Flighty Ones
May 6, 2017

Swiftly, swiftly to you they fly
To feed off that which you give
‘Til you’ve got no more,
Then off you soar
To the next leaky sieve.

‘Tis an empty, shallow life they live,
Gliding from shore to shore,
Feeding off crumbs
From city to slum
‘Til there simply is no more,

Thinking there’s greater stuff in store
Than what you’ve given them, chum.
Don’t ask me why
That is, for I
Am not as gluttinous or dumb,

But forget those selfish, impatient bums!
They mean naught to you or I.
Let ‘em live how they live.
You’ve still plenty to give
Those who’ll give you an honest try.

*****

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Poem of the Week: False Friends: An Admittedly Longer-than-Necessary Ghazal about Friendship

False Friends: An Admittedly Longer-than-Necessary Ghazal about Friendship
June 25, 2016

True friendship is something for which most people yearn—
Folks there for us, asking for nothing in return

Who’ll gladly see us through the worst of times without
Demanding a thing for their support in return.

Alas, too many selfish schlubs exist out there
Who’ll only help us when there’s something in return

For them to gain, be it some physical reward
That they can exchange for something else in return

Or something intangible with which to patch their
Sundered souls, part of which they’d traded in return

For whatever has made them what they are these days—
Bitter, jaded, and nasty to folks in return

For some foul misfortune that fell upon them once,
Leaving them furious at the world in return

Or simply because they’re naturally born bastards
Who blatantly treat others like crap in return

For no retribution at all, for others fear,
Justly or not, what might fall on them in return

And manage to get away with all that they pull
Until they die, then into the ground they return.

Honestly, what kind of friends would these monsters make?
What exactly would they have to give in return

To one who would dare see them through the worst of times
Without ever asking for a thing in return?

Take, take, take—that’s all fools like these know how to do
While giving nothing but pain and grief in return.

Such is what I’ve learned over many years on Earth,
Giving my all to, yet getting naught in return

From folks who proved to be nothing but parasites,
Leaching off my love and effort while in return

Causing me only anguish and suffering with
What they’d say and do to me daily in return,

Especially when I couldn’t meet their demands
For what I was expected to give in return.

From those days, I’ve vowed to exercise more caution
When dealing with folks who might one day in return

For my barefaced respect and compassion give me
Only dismissal and misery in return.

No longer would I waste my time with false friends for
Any reason. Note, too, that I’ve yet to return

To that point in my life, for as far as things go,
Those days are gone, and I hope to never return

To being the senseless sap I was long ago,
Always giving but never getting in return.

From now on, I’m only holding out for folks who
Believe in reciprocity and will return

That which I give them, for though it may seem petty
To give and hopefully get something in return,

Me knowing that what I’m giving means anything,
No matter how minor, means something in return,

And that in and of itself is the greatest gift
I could hope to get from anyone in return.

To Hell with false friends, then! Quite frankly, I’m better
Off without them, and I’m sure to never return

To seeking their half-hearted approval, so good
Riddance, and off to a brighter day I return.

*****

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Bonus Poem of the Week: Standing Up for Oneself

Standing Up for Oneself
April 22, 2015

What’s so wrong with standing up for oneself
In the face of that which is clearly wrong?
Why put one’s true feelings up on a shelf
For fear of ringing out truth like a gong
And alarming all to the steaming crap
That someone else is laying at one’s feet?
Why should honest folks garner the bad rap
For their thoughts, be they open or discreet?
Shouldn’t justice be a greater concern,
Where the righteous earn reward and the foul
Are fed to Hell’s flames, forever to burn
While He Upstairs casts down His displeased scowl?
Silence of the just can be quite the sin,
For through such reluctance can evil win.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com

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