The Truth: Compilation 09/18/2022

Narcotic skies depict the culture of the world
Where a fondness for hatred encapsulate thought
An obtuse idea indicative of our leaders
Who think of nothing more than sinking lower than ought

I don’t want to be saved in a place like a cupboard
Closed and dark opened only once for a simple cup
The design of our world should be clean and open
Allowing us to live in peace, while the evil shut up

We are all different or that’s what they all say
like the tiles lining the wall of a bathroom stall
Scrubbed clean only when someone wants to do it
showing the shine that is hiding under it all.

Someday there will be life without hate or sadness
Brought on by others who have no care for the lame
Grief is free, given when we have loved ones who depart
In the end, don’t we know we all are the same

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Mayor’s Daughter: Compilation 09/16/2022

The mayor thought her precious with a deadpan-looking face
Flowers lined her golden hair, each blossom in its place
The ring upon her small white hand glowed in the murky light
The evergreen outside the door stood ready for a fight
The knock came unexpectedly like winners in a race
An election of her boyish love etched on her pretty face
Coming in from the cold outside he smiled and bowed his head
For all he really wanted was some food and a warm bed
She knew this was her love for good, love for eternal life
Little did he know right then she vowed to be his wife
Waking in the morning feeling fresh and rested well
The lad stood tall and stretched himself, his body feeling swell
He laid his eyes upon the girl and fell most instantly
and that is how the happy couple really came to be.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

A Meaningless Tale: Compilation 09/11/2022

During the homecoming they were happy to see
That the bush and the shrub weren’t hurt by the bee
There was no regret since no time went to waste
finding the ytterbite was for what they all raced
They wasted no time in this journey of life
like presented with teeth of a tenacious steak knife
For they didn’t know they were next on the list
A symptomatic response like a crack in the schist
they went rocking along, such an agile climb
They picked from a shrub near a dirty clothesline
You could read the response on the older one’s face
That satire here was the ribbons and lace
Tied to the tree to keep all pests away
wanting nothing to bother them during their stay

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Human Flaw: Compilation 09/10/2022

The birds and bees will often blunder when they think of who will win
Foisting their ideas on others like the ants fall sadly thin
The difference between these three bugs is multiformed yet luminous
For they are species not alike and form relations not like us
In their hovel they work together for the good of all the group
Humans work for just themselves in one big, selfish endless loop.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Judgement Day: Compilation 09/08/2022

Men grabbed him by the tee shirt, his jacket on the ground
entrenched in muddy waters there came a soothing sound
The volume was pervading, not variable at all
They took him on a frogmarch, just like walking to death row
The sobbing was tangential like a whisper on the wind
These were the consequences of a man who might have sinned.
A woman in a blue blouse was standing by the crowd
With tears of pain she jumped out and tried to scream out loud
She knew he didn’t need to be punished on this day
And cried and moaned the whole time they took her son away.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Poor Old Man: Compilation 09/07/2022

Beaming in his bolero the peasant wasn’t quick
He knew he shouldn’t dawdle, but man, the air was thick
Being a true pluviophile he really wished for rain
He couldn’t get the portrayal out, like phosphenes on his brain
Liking what he was thinking, a morsel of a plan
He slunk right past the bouncer like a filament in the sand
The pocket of his trousers was full of coins and junk
And also there was woolly fuzz, uncanny ’cause it stunk
But as he thought about it the more he decided no
and feeling strikhedonia was happier to go
His plan to take his money and use it on some drink
Was foiled by his odor and how bad he did stink
He’d never get inside the bar without being thrown out
Serving stinky poor men was not what they’re about
And so he went his way back to find an open space
to rest his hot and weary head and find his happy place.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Keep your hat on: Compilation 09/05/2022

Although they look comparable, that hat and that beret
The dichotomy of both these things are evident per se
One you wear when you go out to flounce about the town
The other can be on your crest to match a fancy gown
If I were there to supervise this passive little quest
I’d say the bonnet on my head really is the best

Man or Beast?: Compilation 09/02/2022

With skin like ash beneath the vest
Absconding quickly in the rain
A wyvern tries to do his best
Expecting not much more than pain
Coastal winds blow fiercely down
to blow through its weathered pants
Using socks as gloves, he’ll frown
Neoterizing them in rants
Not prepared or looking so
the creature moves with stealth yet haste
looking for its next new meal
Ready to marvel at the taste.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

A Real Health Problem: Compilation 08/31/2022

When I look in the mirror and look at my legs
I glimpse limbs that are swollen like hardboiled eggs
This Hypostasis was brought to the light
It isn’t a joke, it’s a sad, lethal plight
Its like a bad prank of the lower body
Responsive to fluid under skin you can’t see.
I head to the doctor on a bus ride to town
to get me the update likely making me frown
I’m the underdog here, I had no clear choice
Antics of real organs that haven’t a voice
In a world like a mansion with places to hide
The fluids stay put on the body’s insides
I ask you to tell loved ones, “With your body have stealth
and remind them to keep a good eye on their health.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Best Guy: Compilation 08/29/2022

He told me not to nag
He said I was a grouch
I thought I was quite winsome
As I giggled on his couch
There was a list of calls
In a sea of appointments
Being silly was infectious
Thats usually how it went
He told me nevermore
Would he have me here to dine
He worried how I’d act
If I had a glass of wine
I told him he was lame
I asked him not to whine
I’m only being joyful
His outrage was not fine.
He glared at me disturbed
He was asking me to leave
I cried and begged him “No!”
I grabbed him by the sleeve.
He took me in his arms
and said he wasn’t mad
I told him I was sorry
That he’s the best I’ve ever had.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry