I have a secret hidden deep,
And that is where it must needs keep.
If love is one you wish the best,
Can truly say forget the rest,
A trusted friend you know is true,
Admired by the knowing few.
A few, I think, have loved me,
But mine is not who they should be.
With no begrudging, breath to flame,
There's only one whom I could name.
When, at night, I cannot sleep,
Every other thought I steep,
Will take the form of worried hope,
For one more day for one to cope.
Other lives do not bring worry,
And yet to one my cares will hurry.
I try each day, not to speak,
Of one whom I can never seek.
And to the one I daily touch,
I'll wonder if I've said too much.
The only one for whom I'd pray,
Would hate the thought if said that way.
With each of us of Albert's ilk,
It comes to not with silent silk.
Yet now I know there will be two,
For summer brings his breath anew.
My tiny heart will soon forget,
The one for two that I'll beget.
The one will know and take a seat,
To selfless smile and happy greet,
A more befitting love of mine,
For whom to write a simple rhyme.
Cry for Help
Winnowing time for recollection
In life’s moments of satisfaction
Without artificial stimulation
Or the blunder of the situation.
Stuck in an era unresponsive
In the guttural dungeons of despair,
Begrudging a knee-jerk reaction,
Mechanical friends become repulsive.
The beleaguered mind crazes
For a one-directional mission
Of taking life to the limits
To achieve perverse relevance.
A call is put out (an S.O.S.),
Like a message on the Internet,
“Light is flickering: Save me!”
And by chance, someone will notice.
I have strawberry hope and dandelion love.
Sand, whimsy, and other bouncing stuff.
Drooping, sagging, begrudging down my long sleeve shirt.
This smile doesn’t work anymore.
Patience.
Except, she threw a tarp over me.
This smile is like an ant clamoring.
Or faceless scarf around me.
This smile doesn’t affect the grass growing too tall.
It’s easy to offer help to someone who fell into a puddle.
Inside my face.
Is a larger skeleton as radioactive dust.
This smile doesn’t work anymore.
Like sandpaper to a seashell.
Looks at me sailing toward the first planet I can find.
though tis spoken when we meet,
begrudging, we mete
out cold, absent any meat
----------
A Ukiah, 7/5/7 with rhyme
I saw its crooked shadow
dragging its mind along like a leashed dog.
It went out and came back in
fretting over its own begrudging existence.
This morning it peers out of a window,
looking to see if anything has changed -
nothing has.
I know it will be up all night
wondering where its days went,
where the lost and lingering hours
slipped between the cracks,
of one dawn after another.
It will be shutting a door on itself soon,
when I am on the other side
I will nail that door shut,
then walk undaunted.
into the timeless light,
with no regrets, and not even
a single afterthought.
Let the dead bury the dead.
Cramps creeping and crawling,
an unwelcome reminder.
Why does my body betray
me like an unfaithful secret lover,
chaining me to my bed.
When did my uterus become my enemy,
even the pills offer no sympathy.
As a contradiction of contractions,
crush my organs like sharpened
shards of glass, these strange
territories tighten like heavy torture,
as linings of sore pelvis feel
a tugging pain of shame.
Unable to distract this
typhoon-like monstrosity,
I'm a hostage to
this turbulent intruder.
For those who question body
frames that do not beam,
my frowns are not an option,
they are a veil to the weight
of excruciating fatigue
that feeds the sanity in me.
There's no 'super human' strength
left to curl my fingers into
brass knuckles holding my
burning edges in peace.
Drained by the cries that
crack the surface of my womb,
agitation is expressed
in begrudging outbursts!
Unexpected and unpredictable
pain is a cureless curse,
behaving erratically within
a finely constructed system of tubes.
Once again, I wonder if
this shall be the month that
validates my womanhood.
Minuscule marshmallows in weak cocoa
there is no taste in the heat of the South;
It should always burn the top of the mouth
and be soothed inhaling a ball of snow;
Those worn out carolers will need a jolt
so the hot air doesn’t cause them to faint;
Narcoleptic has become a poor trait,
out of tune voices outside the deadbolt;
Pushing against heat exhaustion is hard;
Asleep on your feet is not a new kink,
always they’re begrudging any such drink;
Left sweating like a melted greeting card.
All this introspection
gets too much,
crushing you under
its own gravity, drawing you
inwards. Even the senses are
captive to its cause, the head
a dark, claustrophobic hole.
Then the world miraculously
intervenes with an afternoon,
blowing leaves in circles
about your heavy feet
as if to tickle and bend solemn
lips into a begrudging smile.
Then the unexplainable,
a sense of something escaping,
glancing off the ordinary
into eternity
and almost embarrassingly,
you give a little skip.
My long ago mother
used to string together cheap jewelry,
baubles and glitter threaded onto silvery strings
for a begrudging merchant
who kept a cramped second floor office
near what I later knew as Smithfield Market.
I would go with her
for I had nowhere to go but with her.
The very thought of 'nowhere' now
fills my mind with the muddy puddles
I used to jump into as we walked for miles
to a place where she sold
her time absorbing, paid for hourly
and tedious labor.
A place where an elderly, sour
and sniffing man doled out
a few coins into her open hand.
A scant amount and never enough of it
for us to ride a London bus
back to where we came from.
As Winter Flees Giving Spring A Begrudging Nod
As winter flees giving Spring a begrudging nod
So the farmer waits to turn over life giving sod
Mother Nature, bows to Heavenly hand of God
Summer too, waits to embrace racing feet unshod
Young lads dancing forth with live bait and fishing pole
With promise of joy and food from fav fishing hole.
As life in enchanting mysterious ways
Sallies ever onward into those flowing days
So shall winter return to blanket earth with cold
We should give thanks we came from God's Heavenly mold.
Robert J. Lindley, 8-29-2022
Rhyme
Note: 1
When the light has been gifted and the heart wakes to see its power. Joy enters and falls like a blessed Spring shower.
Note: 2
My first in a while. Ablessing was gifted me this day- and that gift birthed this new creation, God works miracles and sees every fallen sparrow.
I have been thinking about the meaning of life
There was life here long before I came to be
And there will be life continuing long after me.
It seems I have a rather small window of impact
Not much point in begrudging what I lacked …
One thing’s certain…that is an undeniable fact!
My time here on earth has been rather ethereal
When I consider time in its grander dimension
I mustn’t think when I’m gone, all is in suspension.
No, life will move steadily along with a divine plan
I have been but a very small piece of eternal man,
Here for a brief period of time, doing the best I can.
Many came before and paved for me the way,
Showing me the best paths to choose for success
I’ve stumbled, fallen, and sometimes made a mess.
And, as advised, I picked myself up and carried on
I think friends will remember that when I’m gone,
But, frankly, I’ll be most happy to pass on the baton.
Written December 6, 2021
I take another bite of sweet pumpkin pie
Wondering why I deprive myself of her company
Most of the year, only allowing her to grace my mouth
on Thanksgiving week.
You can take the rest of it home, our host offers.
Seeing how totally enamored I am with her.
I put aluminum foil lovingly around her top
Begrudging my four-year-old cousin’s plea
“I want to taste pumpkin.”
He does not like it, of course,
so his unthinking mother throws it away.
I dig it out of the trash seconds later.
Tiny bite marks will not stop me from
devouring this piece in my dorm room.
Grandma gives me a thumbs up
as I leave to go back to college.
Next year I will make another one
just for you, she says.
confidence
self assured, poised
unassuming, leading, persuasive,
leader, parent, loner, bully
bragging, disparaging, lambasting
begrudging, angry
lack of
Come one! Come all!
Come to Carnival!
Let us celebrate the Fall
and partake a small measure
in the pleasure
of this season,
a party for no reason,
save tomorrow we die!
Hear the cries of the party-goers
the bauble throwers,
forgetting for the moment they are mortal,
have given up the portal
of glory,
the old, old, story
of Paradise tossed.
Tonight, we do not count the cost!
We forget
the bet
we lost!
Tonight, let us be glad
not begrudging or mad
that life
with all its strife
is short.
Hold your memories to your heart.
Come, you’ve no time to sorrow.
Eat, and drink for tomorrow
we die.
I was scolding you
You were a 4-year-old
sitting in a big chair
at the dining room table
hunched over your copybook
the pencil in your hand
held straight, halting, looking lost
as you dragged the tip across the page
that has turned into a minefield
because one more misstep
another dot out of place
would set off a new explosion
projectiles masquerading as words
from the mouth of the preoccupied father
sitting next to you
not wanting to be sitting next to you
begrudging the time
Then I saw it
onto a blank spot on the page
a solitary teardrop lands
as if in slow motion
splatters
spreads
a translucent bloodstain on gauze
I don’t know if you remember it.
I certainly do.
Will.
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