Best Across The Board Poems
daylight hours
Ozzie and Ben at the picnic table
milkweeds dance across the board
chess match underway all day, every day
many stories shared, some repeated; neither cared
till knights and pawns cast long shadows
eyes straining, elders would bid farewell
violet sunsets escorted them home
one brisk morning, Ben waited for his friend
hours on end, until the orb began to sink
fading light from the spectral sunset
usher of regret
Ben sauntered past Ozzie's home
black wreath on the door
Ben cast chess pieces on the street
no longer wanted to compete
after that day, Ben’s zest for life faded away
sun still journeyed across the sky
but Ben rarely rose from bed
twilight hours found him there, recounting the past
tales he and Ozzie had told
in his mind never grew old
memories locked within his heart
shadowed recollections of a fallen chess king
Categories:
across the board, death, friendship,
Form:
Free verse
The humid air sweats streaming curls down the toddler’s flush cheeks like Fusilli hot from the stove. The golden ringlets cling to her forehead, bouncing like Slinky’s in front of her, blue-agate, eyes. The backyard’s sounds-bat cracks and wise cracks-surround her. Squeals echo from the mounds of loam behind her new house. The homes out back form a red, yellow, blue, green monopoly board configuration.
The sand box she sits in is full of scrap two-by-four blocks. Using a naked purple-haired troll doll, she attacks the pine-block castle, tumbling the battlement. A plank spans the puddle
(created by the leaky green garden hose). The barefoot tike, troll in hand, starts across the board toward the moonscape of mud mounds; where her sister and friends run screeching armed with rotten tomatoes. She almost makes it before falling in and running mud covered to mother.
Polish Catholics, Italian Catholics and Irish Catholics, lived side by side with English Presbyterian’s and we errant, runaway, Jews. The scent of tomato paste, knackwurst and borscht wafts through the same soupy air, where we play King of the Mountain. Big Boys and Plum tomatoes flew indiscriminately through the August air like missiles. The only thing which stopped the action was the distance ringing bell of the Good Humor truck, here on Cherry Tomato Alley. Here where each new neighbor had transplanted themselves: their children, their gardens, their sprinklers, and their cars to fulfill the American dream.
First Published in Melancholy Hyperbole Spring 2015
Categories:
across the board, childhood,
Form:
Prose
They illuminate the muse giving it that zeal
Their gleams have a magical feel
Enchanting us with glowing appeal
They are loved by all across the board
Lighting up the imagination, wonderfully adored
Spreading their glows in joyous accord
Awesome little insects generating micro amps
Fireflies flickering, like starry little champs
Lighting up the night with their little lamps
Categories:
across the board, insect, light,
Form:
Rhyme
Yesterday I was on a mission to change the world. I was so passionate about change that it was all I thought about. I lived and breathed” change.”I wanted to live in a unified world. I was young and ready to take on the world. I had new ideas( at least I thought they were). I focused on the things we all had in common. I didn't focus on race, religion, and gender. However, I did acknowledge those things because they were important and core values. In the past, they were the “ things.” that brought division. So I decided to focus on the one main thing that we had in common across the board. I focused on being human and nothing else. For a while, everything was going great, and we were striving, and we were starting to see change. And change takes work. Change can be challenging and uncomfortable at times. We must work on “change”every single day. Yesterday I set out to change the world. But in the end, the world wasn’t ready for change.
Alexis Y.
03/21/2021
Categories:
across the board, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
It was dark...
I was on board
A running mind off the long board
A sleeping mind across the board
A winning mind over a long sword...
I saw children around me
Abducted, crying before me
Crippled, reaching out for me
Worn and disheartened, following me...
On the very same train I'm locked up
Children of innocent faces blotched
Can't imagine how we've all packed up
Can't see any window or door unlatched...
Children of ages five to nine with grime
Teens and adults aged twelve to nineteen
Befuddled and unnourished by torments of time
Soft bodies, bruised and mashed like gelatin...
I started walking inside the cursed train
Children, one by one, followed in pain
Following me like melted candles in chains
Growing up inside the unlitted train that drains...
Then slowly the runaway train stopping and halted.
As I reached the end of the runaway train
Faces of shamed lives wired with strain
An open door swiveling as wind blows the train
A new hope flashing at blown away-train...
Parents longing outside the train are in glisten
Each prisoner of runaway train freed
Me, watching the victims of the stricken
Redeemed and relieved of hearts that bleed...
I woke up... t'was just a dream!
Categories:
across the board, abuse, children, dream, grief,
Form:
Verse
I tapped into my messages; the gas
company wanted a piece of me, and
my ex wanted to know when the
month’s alimony would be arriving.
But it was the last message which
caught my attention the most; Big Foot,
the wrestler, wanted to meet me for
lunch the following day, at The Big Burger,
on east 14th street at noon.
Who was I to turn him down? A 50 caliber
showman with a WWA win list as long as
your arm, and a five million dollar contract,
with a major west coast TV station.
I cleared my appointments for late morning
and early afternoon, the following day, and
laid out my jeans and WWA T-shirt and a couple
of indigestion tabs, with BF’s appetite in mind.
It was about 11.45am, when I drove up to the
Big Burger’s orange and purple frontage and
past the helium-filled, giant airborne, polythene
burger, floating forty feet up in the clear blue,
summer sky.
The place was quiet, a few truckers and an old
couple, talking and munching their burgers and
fries, off their plastic, melamine plates.
The air conditioning was welcome; the sweat
slowly froze, then disappeared from the middle
of my chest: but it was a news report which
caught my attention, on the overhead TV.
“Bigfoot announces retirement and unveils plan
to open shelter for bigfoot families and abused
bigfoot wives in Alaskan wilderness.”
Then the main door swung open and he walked in with
the biggest grin I had ever seen, and approached my table,
all seven feet of him, took my hand and shook it.
”Well kid, it’s all go from here,” he said, thumbing at the TV.
“I’m giving you across the board publishing and screen writing rights.
I‘ve never forgotten how you helped me, get where I am today,
partner.”
I closed my eyes and mumbled inside, “Thank you God.” And we ate
our burgers, he ate five, and spent the next two hours making plans for,
“The Return of Bigfoot to the Wild”
Categories:
across the board, humor,
Form:
Free verse
They arrived giggling and giddy, one hundred percent in love. Holding hands, leaning into each other,
Smiling. Young love, nothing like it.
I am teaching GED classes now, something I got roped into.
(GED for those who do not know is the test high school drop outs can take to get a diploma of sorts).
She talked me into it, the boy said. He rolled his eyes.
She smiled shyly, and looked down. He squeezed her hand.
He gave her a little shoulder hug before he released her, and they separated to take their tests.
She was finished first, but glanced over to where he was, and sat quietly.
I walked over to her, handed her a piece of white paper, and whispered, “Draw something for fun.”
I picked up her answer sheet and her test, and went back to my desk to grade it. There were six
Test-takers here on this particular night, a full house, and I had to get started grading.
The girl’s scores were phenomenal, the best I had ever seen and I had been doing this over a year.
I called her over and said to her, “Your scores are amazing. You can take the test tomorrow and fly through it. You will definitely pass.” I whispered this, as some of my students had been taking this test for a year and they were still here, trying to get it right.
The boy’s scores were bleak – thirty percent range across the board. He marched out angry, ahead of her. Her cheeks were pink, she was blinking back tears. I grabbed her hand before she followed him. “Please take the GED,” I said. “You owe it to yourself.” The door shut behind them, and I never saw them again.
Categories:
across the board, education, sad love,
Form:
Narrative
Get the light just right
The sun is blinding
First shot too bright
Let's try rewinding
In the shade
What a bore
"Is this the sherade
I'm paying for?"
Lighting is dim
Dial down the shutter
On a whim
Don't dare flutter
If you can be still
As can I
We can finish this deal
Before I cry
8 people cheesing
Sharp faces across the board
In the business of pleasing
Master this and I score
I lose light for this shot
I know you can't imagine
A job for a tot
With my little red wagon
The aperture skinny
To achieve this focus
Pay me a pretty penny
And I'll say hocus pocus
Quick! snap a solo
I want a blurred backdrop
Must change up the show
Widen my f stop
"What's taking so long,
Is this not your profession?
Are you doing it wrong
We paid for this session!"
Doctor... What's your name again
Do you have any tact
I have settings to tend
This is a balancing act
Have you seen my work
Did you not call to hire
Wipe off the smirk
Before your session expires
Categories:
across the board, jobs,
Form:
Free verse
Check clock
A white light burst expanding across the sheet
Blue ruled lines blur to nothing
Clear against the paper.
I can’t see them, or the graphite symbols
But I know they are there.
I wrote them
Another failed attempt at grasping attention.
The professor’s voice cuts through the moment
High pitched, harmonious
Her accent harmonizing the mathematical enlightenment
A series of statements strung together
Punctuated by silences
An expectation of some sort of outpouring of understanding.
After a pause, she resumes
Leaving another potential for exposure averted for now.
The green marker fades against the white board
It is also putting forth a minimal effort.
The chapter and section offer a temporal landmark
A quantifiable measurement of how far I am behind.
Another pause
Silence
She gazes across the board
A battlefield of green example problems and red functions
Even she is confused by the carnage.
A mathematical expression lays stunned
But not dead
Suddenly, a light flickers, shining from behind her eyes
A moment of triumph.
She resumes, renewed
While I fade farther into the back
Attempting to become one with the off beige wall.
My mind is blank, almost clear
So much so that I can feel the blood rush through my veins
I try to trace a single cell through my body
But I realize I don’t remember that much detail on the circulatory system.
My adventure aborted, my gaze returns to the clock
Check clock
I am only interested in a line of pi, 180°
As in 6:45pm
Time to leave.
Categories:
across the board, angst, confusion, education, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Are we that addicted, compliance with corporate shuffle
Moves consensus across the board
Graveyard pageant on radio muffle
A persistent petulant stuffing with chips to dine
Casino house burning like Babylon
As the Towers detonate again and again
The past frozen inside the future
It just turned over like flesh across the bed
From nightmares of padded walls and prison escape
Turn the dial, switch the nob
The station generates our relative earthquake
Cinders from numb evolution
Categories:
across the board, devotion, education,
Form:
Free verse
Cheers to Death
You took a life from me
Your insatiable greed never ceases to be
You rape, steal, cower, and cover
Never accountable to the life of another
Cold and indignant you choose and select
Of those unaware whose lives you collect
Lifeless carcass left to decay
The resident soul now ripped away
Held in the clutches of your tightly clenched fist
Anything alive unable to resist
Touch of destruction you gleefully employ
Has reached out and smothered the breath from my boy
So cheers to you Death victory complete
Across the board life ends in defeat
When you come for me as you someday will
The flavor of my blood in your mouth will be shrill
Pervasive bitterness the taste on your tongue
My only revenge for love left undone
My hatred for you, will come to know
To echo eternally my forever foe
Categories:
across the board, betrayal, death, death of
Form:
Ballade
One Nation Under God
I’m in the middle, not left nor right.
I believe that strength staves off a fight.
I’m against abortion, but I’m for the choice.
I think every child deserves a voice.
We need more programs that help our kids.
We have so many out on the skids.
Let’s feed the hungry and provide more shelter.
Let’s turn down the heat and help those that swelter.
I’m for equal rights across the board.
I will not judge, that’s for our Lord.
God gave man the gift of free will.
I believe in taxes and paying my bill.
We need prayer and discipline in every school.
We need to be strict, but never cruel.
We need to heal and see we’re flawed.
We need one nation under God.
3/8/2021 U
What You Really Want Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Categories:
across the board, political,
Form:
Political Verse
what
A multitude of dishes is just not a sanctuary of fishes. Ok? Did you hear the trinkling of the water omitting from the tap? Gaps are small and small is smell and smell is stagnantly sipping stoic spit. Judge not a golden orb of a heifer. Especially not when placed with great dignity on a platter. An apple achieving across-the-board according to acrobatic acronyms is very wise especially when dressed in a sun hat and a pair of shorts. But sailing pears can pair with the wind and this would surely exact much chaotic waving weaves for the tiny little wading jelly fish whose waters are at risk of great corrosion. Explode that then! I think not. Battle no burger bombing belly. Big bull. Bionic bacon brawl. And a trawler filled to the brim with ice cream is weaving it's way underground watched by the kilometre wide whale. Xenophobia of a hexagon should shut all the windows and not speak to kettles. And the fortification of a French Fri. Is neither akin to a brain washing line, a string skirt, a lute or a playlist of random energies. During a download one must eat copius amounts of sage, onion and lettuce casseroles with a nice pleasant dessert of melon served on a bed of floaty cream. Just watch that it does not float out of the window or it could be confused as an unidentified frying object. Flying you say? No that is merely a ground level rising to meet an upper arm akin to a wardrobe tackling the clothes in a wrestling match. Dumb no dim dinner and during dogma derive decisions. Ok then. Good. Ample is fantastic. But hundreds and thousands dancing on a little one centimetre cake is just not wise, clever nor pleasurable really so always wear a pair of spectacles to a game of rugby and play with arms and legs holding a seven foot spoon who is smiling at the antics. How quite articulate of the appearing ant then. Earthworm glow-worm flying worm speaking worm. And a large fathomable waltzing waters snake. Hahaha now pick up a dish and dance around the ten acre kitchen. Hahahaha ladle leaving. Xxxx serving a dollup of tea with sugar and lemon. Xxxxx combustibles z that was the p Y q reporting from the road on the road around the road and on nineteen lanes eighty three beaches ten forests and a ten centimetre pond. 89.0 radio p. Z z z z z applet z
Categories:
across the board, beauty, birthday, blessing,
Form:
AAA
I learned to type in Jr. High.
I learned to tap the keyboard.
One letter than another...
on and on.
AAA
AAA
AA Then... B
AAA
AAB
ABB
BBC
...
One day I came to class,
and we all sat right down as usual.
But to my amazement we were free.
We could do CCC, or DDD... Even ZZZ
My heart was lifted from the monotony
of the drills to lift my skills.
Yet in the end,
it was like magic,
my brain told me nothing,
and I told it just the same.
Regardless of our unspoken conversation...
my hands flew across the board,
as if they were made to dance, and prance,
in an orderly fashion.
I love my typing teacher,
for making me better,
than I was...
before I took the class.
Categories:
across the board, angel, graduate, graduation, innocence,
Form:
Free verse
had Julian been even a sparkle in his
mom’s eyes
when Ray put the pen to Fahrenheit 451,
one might have witness the light being
passed
straight from one hand to the next---
from Zamyatin to
Huxley & from Huxley to
Orwell & from Orwell to
Mr. Bradbury & from Mr. Bradbury to
Burgess, from Burgess to Atwood &
onward &
as one picks up the torch,
cranking the floodlights on the
dastardly deeds of the empire at hand
12 more flick on their lighters,
17 more strike matches &
light candles, whilst the flashlights,
the spotlights, the headlights,
the energy saving sunlight bulbs &
even the bug lights,
all spread like rampant wildfire
throughout the world,
continuing the tradition
(one of the few worth keeping)---
Julian & Wikileaks, Anonymous &
LulzSec,
should not be assaulted but instead
hailed for what they are doing,
as the work they are producing is
of immeasurable value to our species---
they all run with the flame burning bright &
though idiots across the board still
buy into the propaganda peddled by the
masters spending $5 billion a year in
the campaign to brainwash more of us
citizens into
numbness,
we who work in the light
unafraid of these attempts still failing
miserably on us,
raise our lights in unison
for one day this world will be lit
perpetually, and not the largest
industrial blower of any kind
promulgated by the powers that be,
will be able to extinguish it.
Categories:
across the board, life, work, work,
Form:
Free verse