The Land of the Grumblies

The leaves were nipped, the light was dim,
the faces jaded, eyes glazed, lips grim,
grumblies and glumbles, the gamblies,
and grimbles cackled, guffawed.
but feared the reckles that wrecked and roared
and thuggles that anywhen, anywhere might
unexpectedly lash out in meaningless spite;
suspicious, surviving, chilly, dark, cold,
forced laughter, a mask that was firm and bold,
their sleep disturbed by ugly apparitions,
– imaginative constructions
of spectres spooking, ugly ghouls
implanted by taunts and the teasing of cruel fools;
feeling feckless to defy
the bitter, hating, reckless sly,
that hovered near, and fed the fear.

Life’s wearisome exhaustion’s strains
relieved by fascinating gadgets,
– machines and electronic widgets –
constant entertainment, drowning
loneliness and those disowning
‘friends’ – backbiters flattering,
unreliable, faithless,
maliciously fluttering
around.
 
On the surface, most of life would seem
relatively steady, placid,
though dreary, weary,
and sometimes pangs of hunger for,
(faint dream)
life released from phantoms,
weariness and cynical regrets,
expected disappointment,
hurt and smearing, sneering dirt,
fright and spite.

But at glimpse of chink of light
some fled back deep into the night
– they couldn’t bear the sight,
the thought that others,
on their faces saw
illumined
the feelings of
their deepest core,
and actions selfish. 

But just a few had courage,
and delight
to venture out into the bright,
accept revealing verdict,
embarrassing assessment,
and soon they were aware
those staying vile and vicious
would shrivel, doomed,
confinement coming,
chink’s gleam 
become a beam,
expand, win back the land –
the laughter thereafter
would bubble, relief
from the trouble, the grief,
the terrors and bogeys
contaminating pleasure,
labour, leisure:

strength, peace,
certainty of safety, release -
no dread,
in the duties ahead,

and the flowers flourished
well nourished
in the cheerful calm
of the spring-like balm.

[Poetry Monthly: Otherworld]