Best Boarded Poems
I can still recall the look upon His face
Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place
The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed
We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets
On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries
Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans
Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco
We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land
Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace
We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass
by the picturesque Doge's palace
We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house
which now has risen from its ashes.
We sauntered forward through little alleys
from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask
To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque
I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile
Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style.
Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals
A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms
There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs
We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes
He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined
Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes
All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine
All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'.
This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs'
The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica,
at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever.
There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )
Blissfully ignorant and supine,
Lost in the economy line,
voters don’t have a clue
that liberty is through.
Apathy dictates all else is fine.
People keep telling me how foolish I am,
but frankly I don’t give a dam.
I’m going to tell you what I see.
You don’t have to agree with me.
In hatred’s name Moslems prayed at the mosque,
boarded planes and three thousand we lost,
Soon we elected a Moslem president,
his books words and actions self evident.
To prove he was islam’s extremist hero,
He allowed a triumphant mosque at ground zero,
Freedom of religion is what they subtly called it,
by a government that continues to overhaul it.
The American people look on as if still numb,
singing his praises as if deaf and dumb,
while a pseudo democratic uncle Sam,
in a forced health care plan,
continues to turn out liberty’s lights
by destroying other religion’s rights.
Thus the American people’s democracy,
is morphed into a dictatorial hypocrisy.
While blindsided by a frantic economy,
we apathetically lose our autonomy.
Allowed by deaf and blind voters in a loud voice,
Fooled by not freedom but license they call choice,
sly appointment of people who fulfill the plan,
A long range one by the “new” Uncle Sam.
a champion of abortion, killing future contenders
him and Herod; another of the great pretenders.
“Enlightened Americans have one point two children per family,
because of abortion, birth control and contraception
Moslems have seven; which is the anomaly?
We Americans treat babies as an infection.
Laugh if you wish; I’m just exposing the path,
You “enlightened” Americans: you do the math.
Dedicated to a fine poet on soup, Lin Lane
-------------------------------------------------
I shook hands with my brother and bade him farewell
Then set off on my journey away from this hell
Mexico I’d head for and buy a small farm
Meanwhile back in town the guards raised the alarm.
A posse they assembled to help track me down
But saw some Apaches and hightailed it back to town
It was far from over, the Pinkertons were brought in
Determined they were, to carry out the hanging.
After three days riding my horse became lame
It slowed down my escape that made me fair game
Sold my horse at Santa Fe and boarded a train
Vowed I’d never come back to America again.
Two whole years went by and I was living free
Thought they’ve given up now, they’ll never find me
Bought a farm, met a girl, a beautiful senorita
Had two children both girls, Anna and Conchita.
One day I went to town to buy some supplies
The Pinkertons were there, I couldn’t believe my eyes
They arrested me at gunpoint and they took me to jail
I strongly protested my innocence but to no avail.
Spent a week in the jail while they sorted deportation
Paperwork completed, headed for the railroad station
After a long journey we arrived back in Colorado
They had the noose ready, they were raring to go.
All over the state the news was all about me
The Pinkertons just loved their new found glory
The night before the hanging I heard guns blazing
What happened after that was truly amazing.
About a hundred desperado's invaded the town
Burst into the jail and told me to lie down
The sound was deafening as they shot at the lock
The Pinkertons stood speechless, they were in shock.
I went out into the street and a voice said to me
“We only found out because of the publicity”
Then out of the shadows came a face I knew well
My twin brother once more had rescued me from hell.
He said “join our gang and we’ll ride far away”
I said “crimes not for me and one day you’ll pay”
Rode back to Mexico to round up my family
Then headed to Brazil where I now live and I’m free.
Lin suggested a part deux so I was inspired to write a sequel, thanks Lin.
We boarded a flight to Hong Kong
Our pilot was called Sum Ting Wong
I’d a smile on my face
As his flying was ace -
His parents sure got his name wrong!
09 04 17
Discarded cotton t-shirt shrunken and stained
on the side of a street pot-holed and veined
pants sagging low with no shoes on his feet
headphones blaring to the latest hip-hop beat
Heading down to the corner looking for a score
the old 76 filling station with the boarded up doors
how times have changed in a mere forty years
youthful exuberance gone now nobody cares
Flash back we go to the days of my youth
hard work the requisite as was the truth
running on empty our roll was real slow
clean-cut attendant with bow-tie for show
Service with a smile, thank you and please
gone is simplicity and enjoying the breeze
The cock hasn't been seen in a fortnight
but it's time
the vagabonds have all but vacated
and the windows boarded up
don't tell me I should wait
when waiting is wasting time
there is thistle in my hair
and the sun has burnt her mark
even coffee's stained the past
looking out through the looking glass
while you're looking in
senses spilt her sin
alongside cracks in the concrete
steam lifts off the loathsome
the heated melts the day
it's about time
the mocking bird dismayed
lost the feel of home
there's just no place left to roam
On either side the boarded footpath lie
Still pools in swamp with sinister reflection
Dull images and scenes of life gone by
Suggest to heart a darkness and dejection
But did you notice, let the view beguile
Where sun now lights the pines in vivid green
And winter-stripped to elegant profile
The leafless trees’ bare symmetry is seen
.............................
The beech hedge brown and desiccated stands
Each leaf crisp dry from which all life has fled
In faded form the present aspect scanned
What chance that it may yet renew and spread
But did you notice, hid in twigs concealed
There, tiny buds await a sign to grow
Then full imbued with reborn life they’ll yield
A Spring apparel, bounteous life bestow
.............................
The nation now divided in contention *
Each faction faces others they despise
With hatred they wish for their sole ascension
To bring on their adversary’s demise
But did you notice that we still have choice
Where freedom reigns, select our destination
In Liberty we yet may raise a voice
And speak unchained in self determination
* Choose your own ‘nation’
People from all nations running for Their Lives, Pursued by Hamas.
That day 1,200 were slaughtered.
International hostages died! Few live ones do remain.
I do not even know what day this is!
Nor month, or even, what year!
For I live each day within a clock.
Whose only sound ticks away endless,fear!
I have no mirror to see my young face,
Just locked in a room by mad barbarians,
Absent are they, of a trace of the human race .
My family, all my friends, taken from my life..
My treatment, hardly an ounce, humanitarian!
I assume I am probably still, just twenty four..
I was dragged in bloody violence from the “Nova
Concert for Peace” dance floor!
By inhumane, brutish men, who dragged me across
my country’s fertile fieds!
They hit and assaulted me, in a car because I fought,
and no, I would not yield!
I heard the screams of death, the gunshots, unbearable!
I hear them still, they shake the memories, so potent!
that the necrotic plant in my window sill, sways.!
No sun, no blue sky, do I see, not one friend to hug me?
Window boarded up, and slices of bread a day …are three!
Animals, so-called men, blindfold me, and use me for their
everyday, multiple times, I weep!
They try to make me cry each day, while I try to sleep.
But being an Israeli woman, a Sabra, with a strong will!
This in one pleasure they steal, u do my best, may they not fulfill!
I can only dream that your own country backs Israel!
I beg you to hear my voice, to please pray for me!
You have the free voice to back my country, to set me free.
I am a prisoner, a hostage, with no family, friends or choice.
Can you~yes, you~honor my Jewish voice?
Shalom~
Israeli hostage in Gaza
For long I have been an aimless vagabond
I strayed far, the world being enormously wide.
Traveling to lands foreign, I searched my fortune.
At the end, fed up with all that was alien,
And wishing to withdraw from the world’s bewildering stress,
Decided to set out in search of my roots and my people.
Parents dead, my faint connections with my folks were gone.
My ancestral home was occupied by my brother,
With whom I had hardly any correspondence.
But when I was choked by thoughts of my dear home
And the yearning to visit struck me as an irresistible urge,
Without second thoughts, I boarded a plane,
And headed to my native village with dreams many.
From far I saw my house perched high on a hill,
Dappled in grey, squinting across the field.
Nearing it, my heart began to beat in pounding thuds,
In the excitement of a reunion long overdue.
Alas! There was none to receive me, only some creepy spiders,
Busily spinning gossamer webs over closed windows
Its vacancy haunting me, I tried to ring the doorbell.
But the rusted contraption sat silent on the cracked wall.
What had happened to the family living here?
Have they migrated to some far-off place?
A hundred questions propped up in my mind.
Wished to ask someone, but seeing nobody around,
I stood silent in the weed grown courtyard for some more time.
I thought of the heydays of my life, with a deep yearning,
To run round the house once more as a child
And be under its shelter, to lie down and dream the dreams of old.
Everything looked so forlorn. Feeling suddenly orphaned,
My eyes got welled up with tears as never before.
Hesitant to chew the unpalatable truth that this house will no more board me,
Casting one last glance with a heart laden with memories,
I turned my back from that spectral home,
Which stood silent as a symbol of UNWRITTEN ABSENCE!
On a train going south on business
For what seemed an eternity,
I chanced upon a memorable man
Who changed the path of my destiny
He was itinerant to look at
With tatty coat and shabby shoes,
An unshaven face, his hair unkempt
And string, as a belt on his ‘trews’
He boarded the train, peoples heads dropped
For fear that his gaze they’d meet
He walked down the aisle, disappointed,
As no-one would give up a seat
I offered the seat beside me
He thanked me for making the space
I replied with a sincere ‘you’re welcome’
And a smile warmed his weathered face
He asked me about my journey
And I asked of his in return
I felt in my heart, that by talking to him
There was much about life I could learn
I bought us both refreshments
As he told of his life’s history,
Once in a while I would interject
With a small anecdote about me
Behind the shabby persona,
Was a man of intelligent mind
He’d lived on the edge in finance,
Made his fortune, left it behind
As his bank account grew he’d lost everything
His family, his friends, his wife
He’d found out, too late, and at great cost
That there was so much more to life
‘You have to stop and smell the roses,
Make some time for those you hold dear’
And as he spoke, down his rugged cheek
I saw the track of a small, salty tear
As we reached the end of our journey
He clasped my hand at our time to part,
He thanked me for my company
And told me I had a good heart
When I got to my lonely hotel room,
I called my daughters on the phone
And told them ‘we’ll be together soon
I’m taking some time off when I get home.’
Sometimes it takes a chance meeting
To give your whole life a shake
I felt I had met my ‘Hermes’
And now had decisions to make
When I got home, I made a decision
The missed years with my girls I’d amend,
My life took a different direction
All down to my indigent friend
You can’t judge a man on appearance
But if you look in their eyes you can,
I knew in the instant I gave up the seat
I had met a remarkable man.
The lady was brave as she could be
And she went down in history
As one who stood up for her race
The whites said she should know her place
She boarded the bus like all the rest
Not knowing she'd be put to the test
The bus driver yelled back with a frown
"Get up you four,let this man sit down"
The driver and man were white of course
But Rosa refused to respond to force
She knew in her heart that she had a right
So she quietly sat there prepared for the fight
Rosa Parks knew what this would cause
To boldly ignore the Jim Crow laws
Thus a city bus boycott began
Martin Luther King Jr. became her fan
In Montgomery,Jim Crow's called unfair
Some think the rights movement began there
When a lady courageous remained in her seat
Refusing to give herself up to defeat
And so in December of fifty five
The civil rights movement became alive
When Rosa and all the other brave souls
Would go down in the history rolls
* for Carolyn and James's "History " contest
Finally it’s time to go,
All day I’ve pushed peddles with my feet,
I’ll hurry to the bus stop,
Being sure to get a good seat.
There, a chance to rest,
Home, I’m on my way,
Only to get up tomorrow,
And put in another day.
Photos, questions and fingerprints,
Did I commit a crime?
I distinctly remembered when I boarded,
Dropping in my dime.
Why give up my seat?
After working hard all day,
I thought the fare was the same for all,
Is there more I have to pay?
Don’t they know how hard I’ve worked?
To get this seat I had to rush,
Now you’re going to tell me,
Move to the back of the bus.
Wait, I pay my taxes,
Even go to church and pray,
They do not have the right,
To treat Rosa Parks this way.
I never wanted to start a movement,
Just have a seat on the bus,
Being treated fairly as an American,
Why is everyone making such a fuss?
My name is known throughout the world,
In history books here and there,
It really didn’t have to be me you know,
Just anyone who paid their fare.
Almost 50 years later,
An Icon is my name,
I’d gladly do it all again,
Circumstances being the same,
Heaven is my final journey,
Can’t wait till I get there,
Knowing I’m going to enjoy the ride,
I’ve already paid my fare.
"I never travel without my diary - One should have something sensational to read"
...Oscar Wilde, 1891
30 May 48: I graduated from high school today now thank God I'm free!
No more doggone homework, perplexing algebra or teachers bugging me!
7 Jul 48: Enlisted in the Air Force today! Good Lord! What have I done!
The sarge said, "Forget Mom, Dad and Susie Q! You're now mine, my son!"
21 Oct 48: Finished basic training today with about a hundred other guys.
I thought it'd be more like a Boy Scout Camp! Boy, was I in for a surprise!
15 Feb 49: Graduated tech school at Fort Warren and sent to the Bermuda Isles.
Quite a change for a country boy! Water, water everywhere for miles and miles!
12 Oct 52: Was married tonight at Perrin AFB with Vera as my beautiful bride!
She was very pert and calm, but diary, I was somewhat nervous I must confide!
23 Aug 54: Our family grew by one today! Leanna, a little girl, my fondest wish!
She was measured by a nurse holding her by the heels! Just like measuring a fish!
15 Aug 55: Boarded a crowded troopship in New York and set sail for Morocco.
Was beset with a bit of mal de mer since the ship was wallowing to and fro!
17 Oct 57: Our little 'arab' Leslie was born today near Casablanca! What a dolly!
She has a hearty set of lungs, but that's OK, she's a healthy little dude, by golly!
11 Jan 68: Son Mark was born at the Air Force Academy and seemed a healthy tot!
9 Apr 68: Alas, we buried Mark today at Evergreen. Boy, do we miss him a lot!
24 Jun 71: My family and I arrived in Tokyo, Japan, to begin our three-year tour!
Japanese is foreign! For "good morning" do I say, "ohio gazamus" or "bon jour?"
1 May 74: Chaplain Porter notified me that I had been promoted to Chief!
Happy day, dear diary! I've reached the highest rank! What a blessed relief!
1 Aug 78: I retired today at Offutt AFB, after 30 wonderful years of service!
After wearing the 'blue suit' all those years, wearing civvies makes me nervous!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 3 in Constance La France's "The Diary" Contest - April 2011
I carried it on my lap all the way to you,
The bus ride was so long, so long, Mom;
Lost in old memories of you and me, together,
I just looked out the window all the way.
Holding a wilting red rose ~
The gate of the cemetery creaked as usual,
The path filled with many crumbling leaves;
Cool wind took my long raven hair blowing it back,
I felt my tears falling as I neared your tomb.
Holding a wilting red rose ~
I stood for a long time with my eyes closed,
The words carved in stone and in my heart;
Feeling the pride of a daughter for a wonderful Mom,
I fell to my knees weeping for what is lost.
Holding a wilting red rose ~
Then at last I rose and dried the forever tears,
I touched the words carved on your cold tomb;
And retraced my steps down the path, closing the gate,
I boarded the bus and was soon lost in thought.
Holding a wilting red rose ~
. . . . . still
________________________________
May 11, 2014
Poetry/Verse/Holding a wilting red rose
Copyright Protected, ID 05-565-847-11
All Rights Reserved, 2014, Constance La France
The sky was yellow, with sparkling beams
in iridescent gold
reflected on the pointed hat
of an elf, two centuries old.
The hostess of the hour was sweet
in a robe of mismatched dyes.
She entertained with merely this--
a kiss in her root beer eyes.
The placemats were of baby fern,
woven in intricate green,
and laughter was heard like the tinkling of bells,
near the banks of an ebony stream.
I boarded a raft for an underground cave,
which was carved in a spiral pattern.
The subterranean symphony hall
was draped in coral satin.
At the end of the course was a water-slide
in hues of ultraviolet,
with children bouncing up and down.
They prevailed upon me to try it.
Though some might want to interpret this,
myself, I'm in no hurry
to analyze such a sweet retreat,
which woke me without a worry.