Best Amassing Poems
A crazy old man once told me,
“Heaven is made of the things you give away.”
It appeared he was next in line for heaven
as he had next to nothing left to give.
We shared a cup of coffee, conversation,
well not so much conversation
as a gentle walk through a magical forest.
His voice had not grown old or weary
of his quest to share his experience.
He stooped to pick up a napkin
discarded in haste, tucked it
in his pocket as we walked.
He shared his muffin,
spoke with a woman
pushing a shopping cart
through the Common.
She walked away smiling.
The muffin crumbs he left for the birds.
He nodded to the homeless,
waved to strangers, petted stray dogs,
offering all the brightness of his being,
warmth of his eyes,
quizzical wrinkle of his grin.
His rambling soliloquy
poked sticks at the universe,
offered hope to the ducklings…
yeah … the ducklings followed him
as if they knew that he knew.
As we approached the starting point
of both walk and oration he spoke
of the completed circle – not the
circumference - but the center,
said that the achievement was not
in amassing things to give away
but to offer freely those things
that you always have. Time, he said,
is huge, as is a smile, a word,
a shared muffin, a moment
in the passing of an eon.
He left me sitting on a park bench
sharing muffin crumbs
and smiling.
1/25/2017
submitted to – Random Acts of Kindness – Poetry Contest
This is what the wicked are like— always free of care, they go on amassing wealth. Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure and have washed my hands in innocence ~ Psalm 73:12-13
A wise man long ago bemoaned the thought
that those who seek the paths of righteousness
so often struggle mightily. Their lot
seems only to be wreathed in hopelessness.
Meanwhile, the wicked reap rich dividends
while disregarding others' poverty -
they'll use whatever means may suit their ends,
neglecting justice, love, humility.
Believers know "these three remain" to guide
up peaks appearing insurmountable:
Faith is that trust in Him who walks beside;
Hope is that blessed wealth uncountable;
and Love, which guides us to eternity -
For "God is love", the greatest of the three.
I went to visit Farmer Fred
Found him out in his wood shed
He was splitting up some oak
As I approached, he paused and spoke
“When I was young, I served my country and was willing to give my life for what I believed this country stood for.”
“Today I’d give my life to protect my family from what this country has become.”
I looked at Fred a bit askance
And he could see at a glance
That he should explain his new stance
‘We will bury you’ is coming to fruition.”
“Our country is becoming the very thing I fought against.”
“Pravda had nothing on the propagandist news in our nation.”
“Give it any name or label you will, government control over people has failed “the people” throughout human history.”
“I do not hold that government is evil, rather power which is corrupting and evil.”
“It has always been about power over others.”
“Kings, Emperors, Chancellors, Prime Ministers, and Presidents all abuse it.”
“Using government power to control others by controlling their means of earning and amassing wealth.”
“Feudalism, Socialism, Communism, Fascism, all place government at the top and make all people beholden to government.”
“Free market capitalism was the only exception.”
“Some played it better than others and acquired more wealth and wealth is power.”
“Thus, the role of government should be to check that power by ensuring the playing field and rules were applied equally.”
“All men are created equal, not all outcomes should be equal.”
I hold my hand up
Fred paused quite abrupt
With a pained look like please don’t interrupt
“I will simply say, we are no longer ‘The land of the free and home of the brave’ rather the land of the aggrieved and home of the knave.”
This was all he had to say
Fred dropped his ax and walked away
Perceive each day as a gift!
A gift freely given “no strings attached”
With the added bonus of free will for spice
On this beautiful serving tray of life
Two choices regally displayed- The Light and The darkness
I bow, I choose the gift more profound
The gift of light, free and clear
From the God of order and mercy,
Daily admonishing "Take only what you need in life,
All excess be kind and share"
I taste it, I accept it, and I kneel in humble worship of Him
His promise-eternal life in God’s presence
Everlasting peace!
To choose the darkness where tyranny reigns
Temporal riches galore amassing
Pure foolery, as these gifts- none are ever free
All illusions, just as magic, will vanish - poof!!
From the god of chaos and lies, beguiling
"Take! Live, the world is yours! You deserve all the best!"
All this for your immortal soul
But comes a day when the bill comes due!
No grace period, no mercy, and to be paid on demandl!
I decline! I reject! this god of chaos with
His promise - eternal separation from God
Everlasting anguish, suffering and pain!
Plagued with an unimaginable measure of beauty
She sits somewhere between the Indian and the Atlantic
Her history boasts of nothing but debauched slavery
Having served leaders who were very autocratic
She boasts of a vast expanse of unexploited vegetation
An even greater magnitude of untapped mineral resources
Yet her people reside in abject deprivation
As they look beyond their motherland to external sources
Famine, drought and diseases are her nemesis
Her leaders never seem to be sensitive to her plight
Amassing wealth for themselves and families
Ignoring the very reason for their current might
Oh Africa my motherland
Bursting with glory and heavenly blessings
May the good Lord stretch forth His hand
To bless thee with leaders worthy of your consecrations
A. Anarchy
Amber autumn aflame
An aroma of ash appeases the adamant arsonist; the artful anarchist
An audacious attempt at attacking back at our arbitrary accommodations
The ascended advocate us to abide as they affirm their advancement through annihilation
An abstract artifice, artificial affirmation of all aspects
Treated like an array of aliens in our allowed acropolis with the armor turned against us
Most amused with their asinine aspirations and amaurotic attractions
A few too apprehensive to argue and ask for an alternative, afraid of any altercation
But the agitated and annoyed assemble, ascertaining truth through awareness at every angle
Amateur acts of anger arise and accelerate, accompanying their adverse assault on our amendments
The alliance ablaze and amassing, anticipating an apocalyptic ambush
Absolution remains absent and anger becomes anxiety among those abandoned
The affluent assure abolishment for the average and all under
Asleep before the head hits the pillow
Head filled with vivid colors swirling, amassing, mixing outside the lines
Transgressions grow skyward like a bean stalk becoming a giant
Worries wander aimlessly like a cat in the night looking for a spoon
Hurts pound again, and again, first a drumstick then a sledge hammer
The kaleidoscope of confusion rotates ever faster, bed spins counter
Places cannot be escaped
Faces stare as if clothes have been robbed
Running, Flying, Drowning, Suffocating, Garbling Words, Can’t Breath,
Slow Motion, Falling, Insatiable Hunger, Unquenchable Thirst, Blood Stained, Shouting
Loaded Down, Frantically Searching Pockets, Hidden Underneath, Forgotten
Fear. All fears. Nothing but fear. Afraid. Regret. Worry. I didn’t. I really did!
Each day we pack our pockets. Cram our purses. Load our backpacks
Hang needless objects and things around our necks, over our shoulders, in the crux of our elbows, on our belts
Grip suitcases. Carry stuffed plastic grocery bags on each knuckle. Waddling to the side of the bed before crashing head on
Unknowingly still pinching the key between our left thumb and pointer finger
Hitting the bed with a massive crash
every part of the day strewn around the room like a devastating mid air explosion of a 747 littering debris, miles and miles of destruction, charred remnants, unidentifiable and randomly placed objects, out of place, disfigured, often never found
Before your head hits the pillow
Drop the things you picked up today
Take a load off
Free yourself of your burdens
Neatly set everything aside
On second thought, just pile it and let it lay where it falls
Drop your yoke
Sit down on the foot of the bed with God
Hand Him the things you still cling within sweating red fists
Briefly Examen your day
Fall asleep on His shoulder
He will gently lay your head on the pillow, loft your feet off the floor, and tuck you in.
Let Him carry your burdens, lighten your load, unpack, empty your pockets, wash your laundry, even sort and match the socks.
Travel to sleep lightly and peacefully dreaming of a new day
carrying nothing but what is truly needed.
Your thought-balloons are filled with wild and magical freedom ~
until madness seizes your think tank
trapping your ceaselessly chirping ideas
within the teeth of its snapped steel-jaws
refusing to relinquish you; lest you chew up and spit out your mind-racing brain
ire over this cognitive quagmire is quite understandable ~
like the murmuration of startled starlings
amassing in angst and taking wing
your thoughts, your second thoughts and afterthoughts
gather in pulsating dark masses
swirling into flight and shifting directions
turbulently twisting into tornadic spins
unable or unwilling to unravel and unwind
as they hurl themselves
in a pessimistic panic
through the maze of gray matter minefields
not wanting to explode their legs-to-stand-on should they alight...
...and despite butterfly nets vying to capture them
they are whirling dervishes twirling out of control --
holding your damnation in a state of suspended animation
Susan Ashley
March 24, 2018
Luminous
lights appear
in my long dreams,
as my soul, so it seems, holds high
a periscope
for my heart and mind to see
every surrounding scene
beyond the heavy, seamed quilt of history
laid over my long sleep,
my long night — as deeply
black as the pupils of my eyes
mirroring a moonless, starless mid-night;
yet my soul floats
within this ever-amassing eternity —
wherein gleams an airglow for some sight
of the softly glistening atmosphere’s heights…
arising
heavenward
and shimmering
~ while here within me
longings emanate
(for a communion with God
and a complete life)
appearing luminous and divinely embossed
— comprising my long, impassioned prayers
— all into making
the long necklace
of gold-linked
wishes and psalmed gratitdes
I kneel to sing
on these long nights
before my long sleeping…
I searched for myself
In cloudy reflections of unpolished mirrors,
my soul seeking solace In the eyes of others.
I asked the morning star to be my compass,
to guide me through the dark,
but not even she could bring light to my path.
I read the words of others,
wearing them like a warm coat,
incognisant of what I needed most -
Only through the bleed of my own heart did I begin to see myself.
As I began to forage in the void,
vanished verses, of my subjective soul,
which once trembled in labyrinths beyond time,
bloomed like born again petals kissed by tepid rain.
In fields where I hid behind silhouettes of butterflies,
I misjudged stillness for death,
blind to suppressed roots breathing beneath me.
My envious eyes cursed revisiting birds
who took their wings for granted,
until I realised the messages that robins bring.
Now my spirit accepts that my past is the most beautiful thing -
I can never have
and the inner child I once was,
will always smile beside me.
I am still gathering the scattered fragments of me.
Still learning I need not be complete
to see my real reflection in the mirror -
I only need to clear dust from amassing
within my eyes.
Thorns about the snow
Cantilever tombstones
Gathered in a row
Broken bits of someone else’s deed
Weeds are overgrown
Thorns about the snow
Endless come the struggles as you bleed
Ravens are amassing
High above the trees
Searching for remaining shards of bone
Circling intruders
Cutting through the breeze
Waiting as your sins you now atone
Thicket mangled wings
Fractured fighting fear
Carving sad initials on your skin
Thunder clouds approach
Storms to gather near
Drenching darkened sorrows now begin
Iron barred protrusions
Block the jagged way
Keeping you from exiting this place
Fall upon your knees
This your ending day
Every thought of you to soon erase
Fade into the gravel
Claw this frozen earth
Quickly 'fore a morning sun does crest
Bid a found farewell
Far beyond your birth
Time has come to take your final rest
There exists a space between us
that has widened since the passing,
which slowly fills with more distrust
as faint demons start trespassing.
The closeness of a touch still there;
but eyes that once stared into mine
now focus elsewhere, in despair;
beyond, and to that baleful shrine.
Words attempt to bridge the distance;
depart to fade, arrive unheard.
We live in ghostly coexistence,
you, deep in bitter loss, interred.
And so we spend our long days thus;
love parting, contempt amassing.
There exists a space between us,
that has widened since the passing.
Planning your demise is like
tip-toeing on a tight rope
realising there's no net
challenging a
speeding car and
daring it to stop
mortgaging your manhood
amassing liabilities with no program of repayment
leaping to the wrong conclusions
leaning toward self-delusions
indulging in the same old
self-defeating speculations
endorsing self-destruction
till you're finally out of time!
He said he was Herbert Buttery
Born and bred in Woodley Edge
And was owner of a little business
Repurposing outdated artificial legs.
They were a family of collectors.
His brother lived in Haywards Heath
And his speciality was amassing
Pre owned sets of artificial teeth.
They were here on neutral ground
To consider a joint venture
Outside their specific fields
Of either Prosthetic or denture.
He made no further comment
Of the content of their proposal
Other to confirm they had
Sufficient funds at their disposal.
Such strange folk i thought
As I bid him a fond adieu
To continue with my project
Of harvesting Equinoxal dew.
I see you got expensive shoes,
But you couldn't pay someone to screw you.
You walk around all day thinking you're hot as fondu.
Yeah, you got cheese,
And you think that makes you an OG.
Well, let us just see.
Yeah, we'll put that to the test.
You think that you're the best,
But you ain't got enough to put together a mess
Of words to make me feel less
like a man. When I'm done, you're gonna guess
At where you went wrong
Because this is a fighting song.
This verse ain't short, it's long
Because I'm going to rip you apart like I did your mom
Last night with my massive...
I'm blasting through this battle.
I'm amassing nukes.
I'm everlasting, dude.
You ain't got what it takes to be passing, fool.
I'm a master, you
Are just a massive douche.
I'm gassing you.
You ain't gonna be able to pick it up before I come after you.
You'll feel like half a dude.
I've got a magic spool
Of yarn that keeps flowing
Like my words to make you realize I'm glowing
with power.
This is my hour.
I'm going to shower
You with disses like my granny waters a flower.
It's just gonna keep coming.
I'm running through and busting you
Like I'm cutting you and bussing through
I'm gonna be slapping you silly.
This ain't no willy nilly, speaking like a hill-billy.
"I ain't got nuttin 'a say"
What's wrong with your brain
You should have known it was a mistake
To go up against someone as messed up and insane
As me.
I'm king of the ring.
Your girl was a one night thing.
Just a quick fling.
Almost done now,
But before I dip I'm going to go to town
On you so that you make sure to stay off my ground.
Yeah, I'm going to make you bow down
With this final roast.
I don't mean to boast,
But you can't bring enough heat to toast
Me, let alone host
these competitions. But don't give it to me.
Once I'm done with the beat,
You better know I'm gone like a ghost.
I'm on the Friends with Benefits level with your sister.
Your cousin calls me her mister.
Yo auntie wants me to fist her.
And now your bestie told me she got blisters.
I told you I was gonna make you wish ya
Had never stepped to me.
I'm the best, ya see.
This battle had cost you and the next ain't free.