Best Craws Poems
Twin brothers born of humanity
Raised in the heart land
Fed by circumstances
Shaped by choice
Same freedom
Different destinies
I saw Love grow with limbs
Stretching wide to pull everything
To himself even hatred
And i saw hatred grow with craws
Hiding them in his bosom
Till they grow longer and stronger
I thought this Love kid was too touchy
And i treasured Hatred he was for special occasions
Defending my weaknesses and flaws
Love was ridiculing my my all efforts
He was becoming extravagant, giving this giving that
Not like Hatred a sweet heart who measured
According to what he treasured
Years have gone by and
Love has prospered with many friends
Many people giving back to him
Yet hatred brought out his claws,
His fangs came out
And he grew three horns
One of rejection
another for despair
And bigger one with this word engraved 'loser'
I watched these twins
Walk different directions like light and darkness
Their waring grand fathers
I walked two their birthday parties
Few turned up, gave him crowns and called him Dad
For hatred the party was noisy
Many gathered worshiped him
In fear of the horns
Love commanded his servants to dress all that came
with compassion, faithfulness, and honor
Hatred commanded his subjects
To kill every one that came for the party
Many died few survived
I reckon the empty nest syndrome hits all at one time or another,
When youngsters flee the nest leaving dear old Dad and Mother!
This morning on the patio I witnessed this situation at its best,
When two baby wrens took flight and left their parent's cozy nest!
Mr. and Mrs. Wren set up housekeeping in a birdhouse I had made.
They soon became the proud parents of a couple of eggs she laid!
I watched them flit to and fro as they filled the ever-empty maws,
Of their little darlings from grub carried in their over-flowing craws!
Once the kids had spread their wings to experience the thrill of flight,
Mother Wren would sit on the birdhouse porch to contemplate her plight!
She'd plaintively chirp as if to say, "You ingrates left sans saying goodbye!
You've left me and your Pa in this lonely nest to mope about and cry!"
It wasn't long until Mr. Wren was in a romantic mood with his spouse.
When he tried to nuzzle up to Mrs. Wren, she'd scurry inside the house,
As if to say, "No way, buster! I've had it! Cool it until next spring!
Perhaps when the cherry blossoms bloom again we'll have another fling!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The Starling is a speckled thief
that comes with morning light.
He struts upon my porch
to steal himself a bite.
It wouldn't be so bad
if only one bird nibbled.
But, for some unknown reason
the whole flock must be kibbled.
The bunch is quite selective,
taking only pods of gold.
Just the brown bites left behind.
It's like they tasted old.
My dog scares the UPS man!
He bites my brother, too!
But when it comes to Starling,
he doesn't know what to do.
He watches them take bite by bite
'til all the gold is gone.
Then, barks for me to help him.
He knows they've done him wrong.
The only way to stop them
is feeding late at night.
Then the skunk and possum come
and there's a different fight.
So, I feed him a little,
where the birds can't steal a bite.
Without the gold to fill their craws,
the Starling soon take flight.
By Ray Dillard for Joyce Johnson
As you come to Uganda visit Entebe zoo
Come to the lion cage
Don't stare or watch just look in the lions eyes
It will tell you all the stories of Kampala
You see the red eyes of Besigye
With the zeal to break the cage
And lead Uganda
But the pain of tear gas is unbearable
Look at this lion again
Laying down as if it has been tamed
Then you will see a Lukwago
Who wants to do the mayor job
But all the power is in Musisi
Come closer, you will the lion roar
To show its potential but all in vain
Like Nsereko moving a motion In Parliament
But scared by his mother party
Don't stop look closest
You will see this is not a lion
Its a lioness, Its kadaga
Chairing Parliament
On tension to expel rebel MPs
Look again you will see it all
The begging hands of street kids for rescue
The serious police force
The sweat of unemployed graduates
The noise of boda boda riders
And the potholes in the city
This lion at Entebe zoo
Knows how much the staff labors to fed it
It know how much they spend on it
Like the way Ugandans know
How much the government has given to them
But as you look at it
It tries to hide its jungle character
Because thats how it earns money to feed it
It knows the staff gets from what belongs to it
Like the way corrupt officials
Pledge on our funerals
Burying our own who died of disease
That would have been cured by the same money
They played lots
Now run away from that cage
Before that lion comes with all its craws
Begging for its freedom
Like Ugandans
On walk to work
A tiny light from the chandelier
Made my shadows of sorrow dissapear
In a sudden flash I saw all your men
Singing "I'll be back, but I don't know when"
Santa is here and he wants your kiss
You have never seen him quite like this
And though is story is rather grim
He's got gifts for those who believe in him
Also Jesus said he'll be back some day
Some say he never left here anyway
But he told you once and he told you twice
Be a good girl and he'll treat you nice
Brown leaves crash in my window glass
They used to be green but all things must pass
The third time that the rooster craws
It's bye-bye to the savior and to Santa-Claus
A tiny light from a chandelier
Made my shadows of sorrow dissapear
Then in a dream your men stood in line
Eating your cookies - drinking your wine
I watched in awe the laboring tenants of the birdhouse I'd made,
And for their family devotion, they (and I) have been amply repaid!
Mr. and Mrs. Wren became the proud parents of a couple of eggs,
And unto them were born two chicks with big mouths and wobbly legs!
The pair began building their cozy abode along about the first of May.
I watched from my patio as they stashed bits of grasses, feathers and hay!
They'd rest now and then 'tweeting' each other on the porch of their dwelling,
And not unlike we uncouth mortals, I sensed a bit of familial yelling!
Bye and bye, my ears heard two little birdies faintly a-cheeping,
And from the entryway I saw two little bobble heads shyly peeping!
Their wide-open mouths kept Mr. and Mrs Wren flying to and fro,
To fill cavernous craws with who knows what to help them to grow!
Then one bright morn I was privileged to see a wonder of God's Creation!
One little fellow emerged from the nest and paused with some hesitation.
Then, into the rising sun it flew from its perch - what a beautiful sight!
My soul was filled with elation - I had just witnessed the miracle of flight!
Entry for Soup's International Contest - December 2011
Every moment ,and every second am bless for having you by my side,
Holding your hand ,kissing your lips,
Chasing your thoughts inside your mind,
Clearing your tears with my smile,
Creating hope,with your promises,
Finishing your sentence when you run out of words,
Feeling up your lungs when you run out of air,
Carrying your pain from your shoulders,
If God created such beautiful girl,why is she with me?
You deserve better ,someone who will pick you up your feet,
I know I'll never be that guy,
Even if I dream,
How do I hold so much love,it seems so simple,
But I silent with your smile especially with thoes dimples,
A soft pain craws threw my chest,
It only happens when I want to run and hold you so bad,
Every moment and every second I am bless to have you in my life,
One day I hope you can be by my side,
So I can hold you thight when things get tuff,
And cry with you when you are to shy to show it,
Sadly I care a lot about you,
To bad you will never know it
Bible students know what it means; the sign of the times.
Hurricanes, earthquakes, famine, droughts, pestilence, in order it’s Spiritually Divine.
Our Father has begun His timetable; He’s telling us Christians to pay attention.
Humanities ways are being shortened for the selects sake; in the Bible it’s mentioned.
Our planet is groaning being swayed by the evil one.
Defiant in his supreme thinking that he’s above our Lord, his days will be gone.
So the fury of the weather the starving of human beings.
It’s the “Tricksters” way, and the Lord will be dealing with him and his evil deceiving.
It matters to you how you deal with your Spiritual life.
If the Holy Spirit and Faith are not with you, then you’ll be in eternal strife.
The Holy Bible is full of Prophecy and we all should study and listen.
For all will come to end on this earth as we know it, God will bring us to His Eternal Kingdom.
We live in a critical time in human history.
Our very existence is truly threatened with confusion and mystery.
The Lord’s plan is evolving the signs of the end of our age is near.
Earthquakes, droughts, famine, pestilence are in this world, and Jesus will appear.
Our fragile ecological system is being put to the test.
The Saints, the Prophets’ of old will soon rise to a world that will be best.
It’s sad that humanity has strayed from our Fathers Commandments, His laws.
By being confused and in disarray the evil one surely does stick in all of our Christian craws.
I’m sure the Fathers plan is for all of our ancestors to be given a final chance.
To repent, look at God, and start His new Kingdom were we celebrate and dance.
This world as we know it will never again be the same.
We will all (Who survive through his grace) will know that His Kingdom has come, an all is in Jesus name.
Robert Ball H.S.P.
August 28. 2011
All rights reserved Simply Spiritual (simply written, simply read.)
A Top A Highland Hill
A top a windswept highland hill above Locheil land
Clansmen gathered roun and shook the princes haun
They raised the standard high cheered till they were hoarse
Followed the flying heron across the highland gorse.
A,wa tae London toon wi hopes held dear in heart
O pitting Cherlie oan a throne whaur he richtly belonged
Dreams o highland jacobites tae rule oor blessed laun
An nation free aw europes stifling haun.
As so aften happens dreams die oan a wrang move
And at Derby juist nor o London toon
It wiz decided that we would go forrat nae mair
So wi turned an heided hame wi hairts ower sair.
Goerdie boy sent his airmie chasin us
A the wey back to scotias verdant green
Up an doon , doon an up aw ower the place
Till at Drummossie moor we met them face to face.
Oor clans were weary and tired oot
But charged intae them none the less
Their guns ripped through oor ranks ripping us to shreds
We scattered , whit was left, to oor wee bit hill an glen
Cumberland , the butcher boy chased us yince again
Tae oor ancestral hames reducing them to ash
Murdered those who fought and lost and innocents alike
Even the auld yins infirm an ill still biding in their beds.
The craws they feasted well oan highland blood an guts
Plaids an kilts an a, were hidden in the straw
Oor prince he hid awa n,er tae return tae us
But were er we be wi toast him wi oor cups.
Andrew P McIntyre November 2011.
The painful life.
I saw tears like wind round me; blowing warms on me
Flow into all directions on my face,
I remembered not the colour of my tears.
I felt pains as plants felt dust on the road.
Iam dusty in pains; felt her beautiful colour, tears.
The simplicity of my eyes caused,
I saw my body beaten in sorrow;
Beaten like earthworm that flood of waters;
changed her colour.
Once experienced; never trapped in the rain.
I saw help miles away from eyes;
Trying to sponge out pains from life;
more life coloured me with tears.
Forgotten tears is good as forgetting to live life;
Strangers shakes their heads hearing of me.
Who will stand for me and by me?
Looking at you, I saw nothing but what afflicted me;
We stand differ but thinks similar; what pains offered.
She washes me and roll me round on her craws.
Eyes sees not my greatness neither
voices speaks not hope to me
Yet, the bridges my feet need to cross are fearful.
I saw no trees to shade me; moving on was inner courage.
life eroded both great and small; strangers laugh wide.
Streaming on joyful living; reflection of furnace gone through
Made nerves shaking but stronger in hope.
ride out of pain once; kept me awake.
Yet, her rainbow visible on my living.
But as no fear stand on lion's way;
pains gone in eyes of the bold.
Written by:
Pastor Omojevwe Emmanuel
In a jungle where the beast rules ,
Lots of animals have gone through
the belly…becoming barbecue
to the beast ;
Feared by both small and great creatures ,
Flesh eater! Carnivora !!.
She has no mercy especially,
If she’s hungry and angry ;
No respect for aves and reptiles
Not to talk of other mammals ,
The territory is forbidden ..no go area .
It’s insane and mysterious for the great
beast to be tamed by a child-a wondering
child in the forest ;
What the strong and mighty cannot do ,
An innocent and fragile juvenile achieved in few hours,
The magnetic attraction between this
Two is strong and unhindered ,
This passion is divine…
and greater than the fruitful vine,
As the beast cuddles the child to
Sleep like a caring mother ;
The warmness of her bosom makes
the child to sleep deep on the forest floor,
As zephyr whistles ,
Hawk hovers ;
Sun moves to set; darkness craws in slowly ,
Hunters search ; police ponders ,
Mummy and daddy look worried ;
But , peace and love reign between this two .
9-26-2017
CONTEST: Image me a poem sponsored by Mystic Rose
Note: "How can there have been such strife in a Morlde` filled with beautiful Music; &
how could there have been beautiful Music such in a Morlde` filled with strife?" -Soupy
Sales, 2012.
The 12 Panes Of Christmas:
_____________________________________________________________________________
___
- XMAS' RADOTER -
Yule be Xmas
afore ye know
the pag'an go
for patterned
stamped snowflakes
'bove the
Andy Williams' Shows
DVD Stufftaculate CD,
Away, In A Manger For The Happy Employees,
drivelings (no place like) home
for the Hollydayease
in
a Ford Barricade & SUG Thirsty,
Nay, the new GM Bailout.
Suffer
the little Children
new bornes, infants
what nary see
but a Semi-Claus
ere
semiclaws,
tithes for the celibre-cause craws.
Remembrances
to things past-past, of
natal assemblies
en callow chorale masse
gone
Proustikipped,
to mortitorium's
N'well
& stockings filled
with
the chimney's cold care
yet in hopes
das Geheimnis Viktoria
would
somehow brassiere...
rout despair
the Tree hovers
Cabbage Patch? Nay!,
but the oft'splayed
Perry Como - You Win!,
Get to poke Golgotha pins -
WakeUp, boorros!
Bing-Bing!
WakeUp!, Jokers
to the St. Jack Nihilis...
but ya wanna
bat 'n ball this 'round?
You a'ready donned Santa,
with a semi-
Dear G*d,
(Walsch also asked)
How're You doin' It, &
Your Son?...Tarnished
proof weighdown here, filled
with
vanilla, frozen grins &
Joyburdened smiles...
'neath
pattern-stamped snowflakes &
piney Glade heads
afore the marshed desert
Koyaanisqatsi
Like yearlings'
trotted-out
Saviormusic
whilst the other 333
like
666 -
doubled for toil 'n trouble -
employed
to savaging
One, many, or 'nother...
Christmas partidges'
riffeled feathers family?
pared, unprepaired,
Indeed, vouchsafed
an enemy sans name
on
a horse with no name, save
Internecine
AmeriKa.
For
A kiss 'neath
the mistlesilo
whilst acaroling
of the Bedlamites
(Acts, II: 2-6),
the Psalming 100?,
Screeching
like sleds in pit gravel to
the Silent Night
HeyMen!
There lies
an evergrander Light
at the Dawn, but
Hey!,
who's gonna
tear-away
from
Yawnni,
& the extra-Vaganza
of
Truth?
H.e.m.
12.13.MMviii.
(ST)
My baby has a broken heart,
If I had known I would've done something,
Maybe fix the little broken parts,
She shattered to pieces, into nothing.
They made sure the wrapper was sugary sweet,
Soy you wouldn't believe something so beautiful could be so sad,
There was no way to look through the deceit,
They made her mind go mad.
Her sobs wake me up while I sleep,
Before that I could never even tell,
Now I even hear the sound of her steps, of her feet,
Her voice echoes through the nights, ringing like a church bell.
Tonight she craws into bed with me,
Just how she used to when the storms scared her,
She still wears the dress she was buried in,
And even when the summer wind sings, all I hear is thunder.
I keep visiting her grave, I keep asking her to stop crying,
-Please try, just for daddy-
-I don't like keeping you awake, sorry dad-
-Please try, it will make me happy-
-I'm sorry I never told you I was sad-
Two years have gone by, since I last heard her cry.
My little girl, I miss you so much, your mother does too.
Please make her wish come true.
Now I'm the one who cries every night,
I can't stop...
And I never might...
Moon sleeps long wrapped in cozy quilt of chilly fogs,
Earth is engulfed in thick black carbon-canopy;
Trees ghosts-like; birds black-hole shaded; loud growl of dogs,
The scene is as silent as a dream fantasy...
Grow-caws cooled; cock-craws chocked; cattle clemently calm;
Buds of roses and sunflowers snore and sleep still;
Snails and worms shrunk betwixt fallen leaves and twigs, warm,
Cold seems handicapping even hearts of goodwill...
Bells feebly heard; the village church is very far;
As our bullocks are unwell, we may need to walk;
There's joy, when young and old - all together way-fare,
Merrily walk telling tales and season's talk...
Come, join us, share the happiness, Jesus is born!
Partake in Christmas joy, though we might walk till morn!
21 December 2021
Sound of a song softly sung rose in the air and through windows
Barred to let air and light in and little else.
A lament sung in Gaelic tongue foreign to ears used to French,
But its meaning understood bringing tears .
Longingly she peered through the bars over the countryside and trees,
Fine they looked in their fresh green coats.
White cloud scarse in the azure blue of afternoon sunlight,
Her heart broken in myriad pieces.
In this old castle surrounded by water was this to be her fate,
To die in a stony room of shadows.
Her resolve it grew and plans were formed to escape this place,
Meeting a friend of old named Douglas.
One dark night a boy crept close holding a key for the wooden door,
Disguised as a woman of servitude she escapes.
In a small boat on the dark waters of the loch oars slashing ,
Taking her away inch by inch .
Fearful of pursuit by her captors hearing the oars dipping,
Hoping the dark night would cloak .
Was it a failed marriage that brought her here trickery abound,
Perhaps because I am a woman bold.
A queen she was of royal descent staunch in her beliefs
Castigated by a bitter old man .
Tricked and used by men of power abuses beyond her ken,
Unable in accepting a Queen especially o a different faith
Gaiety an sobriety wurnae fur them.
Allus dressed in black lukin like giant craws
Strutting aboot as if they themsells were yon creaturs o the Earth,
Using their Holy Buik tae tell ithers whit tae dae,
Nae room fur forgiveness frae them big craws.
They plotted oan weys tae rid themsells o this decadent Queen,
Ne,er mind that she wus Queen o their laund
Rather be under Eglish Liz she wis a protestant efter aa.
How foolish ur the plans o men who hae a conceit o themsells.
Who wid use ithers tae dae the durty work
Aa tae keep therr ain hauns clean an free o blud,
But a budy kens who they wur especially therr Goad abune
Lookin doon oan those who plot tae kill,
Tae further therr oan station an fortune.
Gawin agin whit the Guid buk seys deceived intae
Daein the work o the deil.
Shame o these guid men o Scotlands past,
Shame oan therr deceitful weys
An tae thie dey their descendents dae the same,
Selling an betraying therr kintrey for profit an gain.
Andy McIntyre 16/05/2021.