A lonely heart can make you beg.
A lonely heart can make you cry.
A lonely heart can twist and turn you,
Wringing every feeling dry.
A lonely heart welcomes the dead.
A lonely heart obscures the light.
A lonely heart wallows in darkness,
Cursing everything in sight.
* Quiet *
When will I surrender,
not as a villain,
but as a pious man?
When will I give in,
not to avoid stress,
but to contribute?
When will I bow down,
not to exercise weakness,
but to express humility?
When will I let go,
not to forget the past,
but to seize the moment?
When . . .
( Poem by Quiet Riley / Artwork by Ai Jing )
The fridge keeps eggs from rotting
and fruits from turning black.
It keeps eclairs from growing hairs
and throws the ants off track.
But most importantly,
it keeps our moments intact.
* Quiet 2018 *
Burning scarlet red
before a sky of blue.
The phoenix tree inspires,
turning ashes into gold.
– Quiet 2018 –
Instead of shaking my head, biting my lip or waving my fist at this crazy thing we call humanity, I’ve chosen to quietly write a poem. My intention isn’t to offend, but if it does, please contemplate this question: Isn’t it better to express one’s disillusion creatively than…?
Two-Thousand-7-Teen – – – – – – –
Angel hearts once made of gold
have turned to green, allergic mold
Acts of selfless charity
have turned to selfish memes of “me”
More and more the trumpet plays
More and more Lord Visa pays
Buying “bliss” at Jezebar
where clients hiss and “students” star
Will false idols lose their praise?
arousing cattle from their graze
Seers will boast, “most certainly”
and if they’re wrong, please don’t yell at me
While trekking through the Gobi Desert, I developed a newfound appreciation for camels, the indispensable mammals of ancient and modern times, so I wrote a poem about them. It goes like this:
Graceful and grumpity
Loyal and lumpity
The camel treads on whenever she’s told
Mangy and moppity
Bouncy and bobbity
The camel delivers whatever she holds
A lifetime of work and little to play
She asks not for prestige, pity nor pay
Just a canopy of stars to guide the way
And a reasonable ration of flavorless hay