Best Around The Back Poems
Wings flutter
off in the distance
as I shuffle through these stones,
tasting the energy trapped in each,
scouring my lands
for my lost crystal,
that which can mend
what I’ve torn asunder.
In frustration
I abandon my quest,
deciding to find
my feathery deity,
the wind carries her scent to me
and I head Northeast,
diving through brush
and dodging trees
like only a Lycan may.
She must have picked up on my intentions
for I sense her
heading towards me
so I veer more northward,
there’s a place I know.
As I draw near
you can hear water
cascading off rocks,
when I arrive the moon is up,
clouds curled beneath it
as if it were a white pearl
resting on gray cushions,
to the right
the beginnings of a river
being fed by the waterfall,
about 80’ tall
careening off the three
stone outcroppings
and filling the air in the clearing
with a fine mist,
the left is ringed
by long needled pines
which have supplied the ground
with a soft cushion.
My winged beauty
lands on the third outcropping
whipping her hair back
under the waterfall’s edge.
I sprint to the water’s shore
and leap to the first,
as my claws connect
bound to the second,
paws touching
then legs thrust me
to the third
where I bring myself erect,
better to ensnare my love
within my arms.
As I bring her close to me
she raises her left hand up
and caresses my muzzle and cheek
with her claws,
I bend downward
and gently
sink my teeth
into the side of her neck,
she springs off the precipice ,
me entwined,
and glides down to the pine needle bed.
As we land
she pushes herself up,
drags her right claw
down my chest
and leans in to drink.
I drag one nail along
each shoulder blade
and let her blood
drip down on me
while I lick my claws clean.
After hours
she crashes down
into my chest,
exhaustion settling in.
I cup my hand around the back of her head,
hair entwined
in my fingers
and as she uses her wings
to blanket us
we drift off
into a pleasant slumber
while the stars blink at us
and the night creatures
serenade us with their calls.
There was pity for one second for the victim in this case,
when 'Hilly', 'Bee' and me were walking to our drinking place.
We were slobbering in thought for what keeps us all afloat,
then 'Hilly's' eyes flew open wide - "Is that a hundred dollar note!"
A hundred 'bucks' was lying there upon the unknown nature strip.
'Should we hand it in' 'Bee' mentioned with a quivered bottom lip,
but the vote was three to zero when 'Hilly' mentioned that the 'brass',
"Would buy a slab of VB plus half an ounce of 'grass".
'Bee' and I ain't into drugs but seeing 'Hilly' found the cash,
we brought ourselves the VB and let 'Hilly' buy his 'stash',
then walked to the Catholic Church and sat around the back,
where we drank our first three cans and 'Hilly' opened up his 'pack'.
I watched him lick his papers, and stick together three or four,
and roll his 'grass' just like a 'snag' but then he broke the law.
He lit the 'joint' and took a drag, but then went 'glassy eye',
and from this point was senseless, and believed that he could fly!
Not only did he flap his wings; 'Hilly' thought that it was hot,
and stripped down to his birthday suit displaying what he's got.
'Bee' and I laughed at his antics 'til he ran out on the street,
and done his style of ballet dancing 'round, everyone he'd meet.
No matter how we tried to help him 'Hilly' stuffed the plan,
with a big grin on his dial and shouting out 'peace man!'
It might be alright for 'Hilly' thinking all the worlds at peace,
but that became a different matter with intrusion of p'lice.
Because we're in the company of a bloke whose floating high,
the coppers threw us in the van for what I don't know why!
But said they wanted statements from the pair of us, that's all,
while 'Hilly' stumbled out some garble 'bout making a phone call.
Now under legal obligation 'Hilly' dialed and then he spoke,
and in a very short time at the desk there stood a bloke.
The copper said, "Are you the lawyer, for that doped up dill?"
"No" the bloke replied - "I've got pizza's here for David Hill".
He waits for me in my dreams each night
I hear his soft neigh when he catches sight
of me. I am only a tiny little slip of a girl
who sits on his back as we travel the world.
Into the stirrups then up to saddle of gold.
Around his powerful neck, my arms enfold.
A few times we circle while the music plays.
Up and down we gallop with blacks and grays.
"Hold on tight," he flicks his tail and we fly
off the carousel, all the way up into the sky.
Around the back of the moon, we chased a star.
Up and down all night, we journeyed afar.
Down to the meadow to greet the morning sun.
My carousel stallion and I have so much fun.
I've been holding on to his thick mane all night,
but now the sun is up and shining so bright.
We've been flying for hours; time to come down,
I promise to try my best not to frown.
It's time we return to your place at the park,
I'll be back in my dream when it's grown dark.
Handsome stallion of white, on my carousel,
where we go on our fantasies, I will never tell.
* * * * * * * * * *
February 24,2016
What Goes Up, Must Come Down Contest
by: Catie Lindsey
Apparition
For several years
a photograph of my grandfather,
my mother’s father,
hung on my living room wall
There’s no date on his portrait;
family lore says it was taken
shortly before he deserted his family.
He was a handsome man,
easy with women,
or so I’ve been told.
In the photograph
he’s dressed formally
for a country man:
a dark suit, a white shirt,
a crooked bow tie.
I knew him as a broken old man,
pacing around the back yard fence
like an animal in a cage,
talking quietly to himself.
One evening long after his death,
as I sat quietly,
contemplating his portrait
(a casual close reading),
a ghostly hood emerged,
covering his face,
eye-holes roughly cut,
his bow tie and suit
disappearing beneath a white robe.
My grandfather
no longer needed Sunday clothes.
I saw the old stone cottage
A shell of all it used to be
Its gardens wild and overgrown
but that cottage spoke to me .
Here I'd get my independence
my family wouldn't be too far away
Sure I would have to put in the work
but that never killed anyone so people say.
So I bought that old stone cottage
Invested everything I had
Toiling for hours after work
My family thought I'd gone mad .
Sleeping in a two berth tent
Cooking on a small camp fire
Sometimes the work I'd done was not evident
Some days my body would tire .
Determination drove me onward
Restoration was my goal
If this dream was to come true
I must be prepared to pay the toll.
Six months turned to a year
Soon another 6 months passed
Then I stood back and admired
My work was done at last .
Golden roses round the front door
Purple clematis around the back
Every kind of herb and flower
I've really got the gardening knack.
Visitors I have many
Though its sometimes lonely being alone
Who knows what tomorrow may bring
Until then my stone cottage is my home.
It’s October, we find time to go by the spring-house to get the tulips. It is time to prepare for winter and the inevitable coming of spring. The bulbs look hopelessly dead and ugly, rather pitiful in fact. We nurture them tenderly.
fall gardener
tucks the bulbs in bed
till spring's alarm.
Through many snows and chilling temperatures, we do not consider at all what is taking place under the ground. One warm March day we see tiny noses poking up through the soil around the back porch. By April, we are sitting in the swing admiring the result of loving labor of last fall.
seeing the blooms
brings to mind
dried-up bulbs
How could such ugliness have turned to such beauty in the cold, hard earth? As May approaches bringing other flowers, our short-lived tulips drop their blossoms and say good-bye. But as we've discovered, the wisest of gardeners do not hasten to bother the beauty in its passing.
dust to dust
all blossoms shrivel
with time
food for the soil
wilting leaves nourish the bulb
hidden in the ground
The bulb remains unattractive throughout the whole cycle of growth. Along in mid-July when all external signs of life have faded, we remove the unsightly bulbs from their bed, putting them back in the spring-house until fall. Without them, there will be no blossoms next spring. It is the care we show the bulb which bursts into the beauty we bless in time.
entry for contest: Carlton D. Kennedy's Love of Nature
Rednecks and roundabouts, they don't mix.
Don't try and fool us with your media tricks.
We drive around the back roads throwing bottles at signs.
Your roundabouts make us slow down or the ladies spill their wine
Blimey times are tough lately,
and most of the stations too.
I haven't eaten for a week;
the squatters offerings is 'shoo'.
My wish is flour for some damper;
a small handful of leaves for tea.
They reckon we're all pests out here,
the blokes who walk the track like me.
What's that ahead? Is it a pub?
It is! Oh glory - glory be.
There will be a scrap or two,
for a hungry bloke like me.
I’m not allowed in the front door
to beg for food where they serve beer,
so I'll just sneak around the back,
to where the tradesmen enter here.
I ‘gives’ the door a gentle knock,
and then quietly I wait there.
A barmaid opens up the door,
then she gives me an icy stare.
"What do you want?" she say's to me,
in a tone extremely rude.
I says "Ma'am I ain't ate all week,
I wondered if you had some food".
"I've got nothing here to offer,
but let me tell you what I'll do,
I'll give to you this option,
would you eat day old stew?"
"Oh lady yes! Yes! Yes!" I drooled,
then my stomach churned in sorrow,
when coldly she said back to me …
“Good - then you come back tomorrow!”
My whole world as I knew was never more; when I caught a glance of an attractive dark haired Irish man with piercing blue eyes, and a shadow of a beard framing his square jaw. He walked towards me with a smile. I couldn't fight the wave of desire that swept over me when he came close and breathed a sigh and said,
“I have fallen in love with you."
I embraced his love and experienced a new life I found my future soulmate.
I just applied a hint of makeup and perfume. My hair piled at the back of my head with long strands falling about my face. With the help of my bridesmaid, I slipped into a long cream satin wedding gown with lace at the bodice and a high neck and long lace sleeves. The back dipped into a V to my waist where the dress then fell in several layers of cream tulle. I slipped into matching Saasha Lee heels. The last a tiara adorned with diamonds to anchor my wedding veil. I picked up my simple and elegant bridal bouquet of white flowers.
I felt like a Cinderella, as I climbed into a horse-drawn carriage
waiting for the journey to the church.
The music was playing as I stepped into St Michael's Catholic Church in the small town of Needville and walked down the aisle arm-in-arm with my dad. The inside was adorned with white flowers. Clusters of white lilies tied with white satin ribbons adorn the pews. My prince simply stood at the head of the aisle with a smile never moving his gaze from me. My eyes were filled with tears as I took the gold band and put it on his wedding finger.
Our vows were simple and we both said I will. The priest said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, family and friends, it is my pleasure to present, for the first time anywhere, Prince Sean and Princess Vanessa O’Connor!" He slid one hand around the back of my neck and the other around my waist as he kissed me.
5/29/2018
Poetry Contest: FAIRY TALE
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For contest 'Make me laugh', sponsor Robert Haigh
24th February 2018
The old lady planted roses near the corner by the driveway
She never planted roses by the door
I remember once she told me, "Bees come out to get the nectar"
And a bee sting can be deadly or quite sore
Instead, she planted herbs along the walkway to her cottage
You'd pass by, the scent was rather nice
Rubbing rosemary and lemon grass and sage against your trousers
Sometimes you would even walk by twice
She had hollyhocks and primrose, a classic English garden
Lots of fragrant trees and bushes there as well
There were cedars by the windows and hyacinth close by
If she even had a lawn, you couldn't tell
There were irises and tulips, daffodils and more
And great bushes of white lavender abound
Not only was the lawn gone, with the bushes and the trees
I bet from inside you'd nary hear a sound
Around the back the same thing, exactly as the front
Herbs and plant life, and I'd say maybe more
Than all the plants in Englands Kew Gardens have to see
And more lilacs by the walkway by the door
The vents from down the basement blew through cedars and the lilacs
Sending warming scents around the clustered yard
There were windows to the basement, blocked by flowers and the trees
And to see in was really rather hard
The one day I remember when I came out to the house
Is one I know I'll not forget
For walking down the pathway with a policeman on each side
Was the old lady with a look of deep regret
It seems the scented flowers and the bushes and the trees
Provided scents to hide the smells from deep inside
The air was vented out directly through the flowers
The house was just a grow op in disguise
Well! I remember the first date I was a teenage boy
I picked her up in the car had to wait for her she was late
She finally came out I open the door she sat down I close the door
I said where would you like to go
She replied " let's go downtown to the Olive Garden"
So we arrived
I parked, we went inside we set at the middle booth
People all around us people laughing, chattering, talking
To me so dischanting and so alarming
It sounded a little uncouth I spied over there's a man yelling at his date
Maybe his wife, girlfriend who knows
I don't know, all I know I almost wanted to go
The waitress came I ordered fish
This was our first date it was good but it wasn't great
She ordered steak
I can hardly imagine entrenched in the silence
As I sat wondering was the lettuce fresh yuk
So I took a sip of water and I kept on looking at her this girl
Soon-to-be woman my mate
So we finished the meal I held her seat as she rose
I let her lead trying to still be a gentleman
Got to the car once again held the door open for her
She sat down and buckled in I walked around the back of the car sat down and drove away went to a show we both wanted to go to a movie had to hurry it was for two and a half hours didn't want to be late this was our first date
08/16/2017 by James Edward Lee Sr
A chimney on a low rise standing sentinel
On the loosely scattered outskirts of town.
A reminder of an old house built by hand,
The home around the hearth long fallen down.
The silvery frost covering the remnants
Of the old broken place spilled on the ground,
No room hereabouts for cheap sentiment,
It’s bleached broken bones now earthward bound.
Wandering through someone else’s ruins
My imagination starts to take hold.
Discovering relics from times long since past,
Anonymous, broken, rusted and old.
I spy a grand old wood fired oven’s legs
Sprawled akimbo all four across the floor.
With its door ajar and enamel cracked,
It’ll provide them warmth and food no more.
The floorboards cling to the twisted bearers,
Bleached pine timbers cracked, warped and twisted.
Only wind swept and no longer mopped with pride,
Their gaps now hide rabbits no longer hunted.
Amongst the wooden wreckage lay scattered
Shards of brilliant and broken lead stained glass.
Elegant reminders of another time
when no-one thought this would come to pass.
A time when the front door was always open
And the pine rafters inside rang with life.
When a family filled the space with laughter
And gathered at the hearth in times of strife.
A battered and blackened iron pot upturned,
Rusted holes, cracked and weathered through.
It’ll never again be used to boil up
A feed of mouth watering mutton stew.
Handles, hinges, bolts and rusty nails too,
Lay in abandonment across the grounds.
The daffodils, jonquils and geraniums,
Now foreign to the garden’s new surrounds.
An aching head betrays a tired sadness
At forgotten scenes of decay and neglect.
Ignorant passers by cause me to wince,
As on this families history I reflect.
This one too from our sight they’ll soon remove
As progresses heavy capped boots march in.
The suburbs swallowing up our old farms,
As new histories in new houses begin.
I’ve come across many such sites of times past
As around the back blocks I’ve wandered.
If your eyes were open you’ll have seen them,
But do you care for our heritage squandered?
under the bay bridge in astoria there is a
brick building with a gnarled up old wooden door.
something along the line of mary todds is written
on it.
In the doors Center is a strange looking compass
that welcomes in a little of the fog along
with the occasional thirsty kingfisher.
whose kingdom is a bundle of yellow and
white nets
tossed in the bed of a blue 84 ford pickup
parked
around the back.
here the locals always park in the back
and fill up
on busch beer in the can.
inside stacks of cardboard boxes full of
empty cans line the hallway
leading to the bathroom.
the bar is an old solid piece of maple with
countless carvings on it,
from what looks like pocket knives or
fishhooks.
scribbeled and carved names like john
and neil are everywhere,
but the wood looks old enough to have
jonah and noah on it.
now the whole place smells of salt and
whiskey,
the kind of salt thats in the air and settles
in your
mouth under your toungue.
nobody know's better than mary herself,
they say one day
leaning over the bar she looked over her
shoulder at the
sunlight coming through the window and
turned into
a pillar of salt.
of course that was years ago in the old
testament and you
know how fishermen tale tall tales,
especially at mary todd's.
It's awkward and strange,
and if I had to sum it up
in about four words
They would be
My mom was driving.
Not romantic, just weird.
And when we got to the movies
mom went to the other side of the theater
realizing her presence on my first date was
ridiculously embarrassing
We didn't really talk to each other
I didn't know what to say
and you didn't either.
And I don't really remember much of the movie
because what I do remember is your arm
around the back of my seat
an inch away from direct contact
I'm sure you eventually recovered
some feeling in your arm
in a few years, I bet.
On the way home
it was equally silent
and equally awkward
And our relationship
didn't work out
but I hadn't really expected it to
So here's my hint to you, kids.
Just don't go on a first date
with your mom in the car.
~~~~~
Written for the contest: First Date