Gloria Dubbins - not much of a name,
but trust me on my judgment, gentle reader;
in terms of Beauty, she was Hall of Fame.
We’re talking – let’s see – nineteen seventy-two,
but I’m the keeper of the Gloria Flame,
and still to me she’s better, and more true,
than all your Taylor Swifts or Amber Heards.
She did the things that gorgeous women do -
in essence, nothing. Gloria had no words.
Intelligence? Commitment? Are you kidding?
For babes, that stuff is strictly for the birds.
She sat immobile and observed the bidding.
I’ll tell you this, but won’t apportion blame.
You, too, would be as motionless as cedar
if you’d been dealt her hand, to play The Game.
She’s not the kind you wound up talking to.
Her presence smote you with a sort of shame:
she struck you dumb: the words would not come through.
And Gloria didn’t gravitate to herds.
Perforce, she rowed her own sublime canoe.
Her beauty left her friendless, like the Kurds.
What was her view of Comus? Little Gidding?
I don’t have – no, I never had – a clue.
Enigma fits her. Easily two-thirds
of all the girls acknowledged her as leader,
but oddly she was Nothing Like A Dame.
Tendency is, to apportion
Love:
like slices of iced sweet
at a party
braying festive, 2 playful swipes
at a swinging, loaded donkey
(not the husband this time)
toffee for the dear loyal mate --
allotment of love, for precious children;
for all our Prayer-family, appealed
a canopy of blessed shade, like that
bible gourd,
cat and dog needing, also,
some petting reward – no special
reason...just because --
to the poet, as with painter,
superseding costume body of flesh,
art is voice-echo and representative
image
one's deeper beating sentient part
ventricle tools, the writing pad, the brush...
more poignant the words,
broader the expansive, lyrical stroke:
ruled paper or mystifying canvas~ the soul,
a bottomless well from which to
creatively
draw
fluid destinies
for controlled dabbing
abundant dashing-splashing
spirit-inspired
awesomely appealing
saturating pour --
Unlimited source
Depend upon the giver
To deserving force.
O seed of minute proportions,
So small, a minuscule apportion.
From God, you were sent,
From a low place, you were meant for a glorious ascent.
Yes, low, down into the ground you go,
Covered with dirt first before you can grow.
Away from all, stepped on, unseen and unpopular,
But quietly you grow and rise like a star.
The dirt of lies, gossip, manipulation, and defamation of character,
Yes! They cover you in the ground of seeming disaster.
But with rain, time, and the benevolent sun, you will grow.
So remain quiet; in divine time, you will be beautiful, and they will see and know.
Twenty six people is all there would be
Between Mr Julius Ceaser and me
Twenty six lives laid end to end
It’s a notion akin to making time bend
Let me explain what I’m ranting about
That history’s short when you segment it out
First take a lifetime, let’s call it L
Apportion a value to it as well
Not many folk would be happy with less
So Eighty to me seems a fairly good guess
So when Mr Ceaser drew his last breath
If a baby was born at his time of death
And grew up to live a life that we’ve called L
And at eighty years he passed as well
At the end of that life that we’ll call Man one
On that day the life of Man two had begun
Man two lives his L and on his death knell
Man three is then born for an eighty year spell
And should this continue, with L upon L
each starting when one visits heaven or hell
The thing that might shock you, like I was astounded
Is how many Ls there would be once they’re rounded
Stabbed in the back in B.C. forty four
It’s hard to believe that the number’s not more
It’s a notion akin to making time bend
If twenty six lives were laid end to end
For twenty six people is all there would be
Between Mr Julius Ceaser and me
While i understand and totally get
It's human nature to want to
apportion blame
When it comes to one's government
remember
Very rarely do the voting public agree
With the choices made on their behalf
In a democray once we have placed
our tick in a box and our votes are
tallied up
It's then solely up to them to
fulfill that duty and trust we have placed in them
Unfortunately though when it
comes to politics
Once they are voted it's every
person for the party collective
And can anyone attest to
meeting or seeing a politician
who could look anyone directly
in the eye without blinking
And thinking first and foremost
of what lie to tell as long as he
or her can count on your vote
And if anything was to go wrong
willing to take or accept blame
So-called Lady Luck, post your impulse rounds:
Tell where next goes your famed Midas touch;
Where in the days near shall your wild leg lead
The favored donees of your capricious search?
Against your impulse-urged turns I got a gripe:
For men your random wanderings widely hype,
Yet you little care that faithful mortals adore
Your all-clandestine cycle and surprise galore.
And as for your epoch-honored bestowments:
Say what obscure merit-scores you rely upon
To amply pamper one and sorely deny another,
Spurning toiling orphans to gift a nabob's son.
False-hallowed Mistress of Fate I fault, again:
Now reward fans who rock themslves insane
As they pay hugely appeasing homage to you,
Pleading that you apportion many and not few.
Until you grant lowly lips that crave your gold,
I said and again will say that you're not a god!
Think
Ponder
Identify
Envision
Dream
Wonder
Consider
Reflect
Muse
Contemplate
Mull
Deliberate
Examine
Analyze
Weigh
Balance
Pause
Hesitate
Stabilize
Aim
Fire
Bullseye
Seize
Capture
Apportion
Bless
Thank
Why dear night, do you remove the
canvas every day before the drenched colors dry?
how will we ever see and admire the portrait,
that which starts with blisters of pink from the
mountain of lions, and a streak of mud cast across
the elephant bushes
Is it your duty to turn dawn to day?
Dear night, let dawn linger
will it not please you if dusk lingered on,
to massage your long dark shadow?
Do not be afraid, we already know
your secrets thanks to the silver whispers
At wee you apportion us your shadow,
Each day we accept to carry it in silence
while you hide till evening!
Do not hurry us to labor,dear night
Let dawn linger
Self annuity, that one fray
that disrespects its disarray,
what wrong I learned from, must relay
to self's apportion, not obey!
The slavery of respect's allay
that merits pride, admits convey
to stifling, while my greatest aye
is understanding doubt's dismay!
The mass of reverence, scant to faith,
admit my fault, except, convent,
experienced lessons make my day,
that vacuum of consent, risks pay!
What not to do ~ again, OK!
I APPRECIATE YOU
You are so swift
Across my life you always want to drift
Each time I try to up my game,
You showed the bottom and left me with no option that to apportion blame
You make my tears wet my smiles
When I go through my memory's files
For as I page through , I embrace joy as I bump into your enemy
Alas, as I flick further, I find you consistently
I appreciate you though
For you help me mature and grow
You strengthen my bone and give me wings of confidence
And I soar and rise above you with resilience
You irk when you knock on my door
But you can come and wage war
For without you I have no will to cross a barrier
You make me bitter but I appreciate you Failure.
So much worry and confusion
From life’s problems and uncertainties
But the actual solution
Hidden beneath anxiety and fear
Can be found in absolution
From the blame and reproach
Then begins pure inspiration
Discovered within the simplicity
Without any exasperation
A vision starts to embark within
Creativity collides with motivation
And a revolution of kindness begins
Throughout the generations
Between parents, partners and relations
There is a genuine revelation
Assurance of intimate commitment
That comes from the sensation
The impression of conscious insight
Actually knowing this integration
This blending of hearts and minds
Between those who apportion
Every thought and idea and care
With sincerity and dedication
Love that is unconditional!
Written on August 1, 2014
©2014 by Regina Riddle
May you gently tender whatever surrounding you
As your mother tenders you
May you generously give whoever in want
As you are given by beloved ones
May you patiently enlighten whoever innocently unaware
As you are clearly enlightened by reverend mentors
May you bountifully assist whoever helpless
As you are secretly assisted by unknown people
May you wisely share the happiness with whoever never met before
As you are well hospitalized by every warm but uninvited party
May you thoughtfully apportion the sorrow with whoever mourning
As you are wholeheartedly comforted by uninvolved others
May you always fill in others' shoes
As others tolerate you
May you always know the stamina
As Sun never fails to rise
May you always known the docility
As timely rain damps the thirsty soil
May you always know the truth
Suffer as people suffer
Enjoy as people enjoy
May you always know the best time
To be strong
To be mild
To be firm
To be acceptive
Above all
May you always know
The one
You should always extend your gratitude to
May you gently tender whatever surrounding you
As your mother tenders you
May you generously give whoever in want
As you are given by beloved ones
May you patiently enlighten whoever innocently unaware
As you are clearly enlightened by reverend mentors
May you bountifully assist whoever helpless
As you are secretly assisted by unknown people
May you wisely share the happiness with whoever never met before
As you are well hospitalized by every warm but uninvited party
May you thoughtfully apportion the sorrow with whoever mourning
As you are wholeheartedly comforted by uninvolved others
May you always fill in others' shoes
As others tolerate you
May you always know the stamina
As Sun never fails to rise
May you always known the docility
As timely rain damps the thirsty soil
May you always know the truth
Suffer as people suffer
Enjoy as people enjoy
May you always know the best time
To be strong
To be mild
To be firm
To be acceptive
Above all
May you always know
The one
You should always extend your gratitude to
Fragments and crumbs of life, all the little pieces,
Makes each one of us who we are, and do become,
Each passing moment joins us and then releases.
Each passing human secures a piece and then some.
We are and will be the essence of everyone we meet.
I remember the smell, his words, my grandfather left for me.
I recall the wisdom my grandmother shared non-discreet.
Scents of her baking and cooking Sunday dinner for three,
These and so many more are embedded for natural recall.
Never searched for in your mind, etchings of time gone by,
Fragments of normal design, remembered forever after all.
They may deliver happiness, or create mourning or a sigh.
For every person you meet you take a part of their spirit.
Fragments of their emotions stick with you for at least a while.
Along with they acquire fragments from your little tidbit.
These fragments that we apportion make life so versatile.
written by
Cecil Hickman
Date written: 06-22-2011
written for
Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name All The Little Pieces
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