Best Documenting Poems
I had been studying to make Sergeant,
And was scheduled for the afternoon promotion board.
To get some practice and test the waters,
I volunteered for the morning's Soldier Of The Month Board.
The Battalion recently had been given
A ticket for the well-known Berlin Orientation Tour.
During the in-brief, the Battalion Commander
Said the ticket would go to the soldier with the highest score.
As luck would have it, I won;
Beating out by a quarter of a point a Staff Sergeant.
Not only was I going to Berlin for a week,
I was recommended to be promoted to E-5 Sergeant.
The Berlin Orientation Tour didn't count as leave;
As it was considered Permissive Temporary Duty (PTDY).
Riding the duty train to West Berlin
We had to keep all the windows shaded through East German territory.
The Wall had already come down by then,
But the Soviets were still occupying East Germany.
As a group we toured a modern museum
Documenting how some East Germans had escaped to be free.
One day we passed through Checkpoint Charlie,
And saw the Soviet monuments and troops in East Berlin.
I collected pieces just chipped off the Berlin Wall
Instead of drinking coffee in the cafés of Berlin.
From light to dark, I am filled with delusion
Of memories unknown, of emotional strain
Like a hermit to words in moments dismembered
When time became a riddle, a crazed labyrinth
That each flashback becomes a nightmare
Documenting nothing , not even a whimper.
A quiet wail rattles of stories, from where?
Her web of remembrance, disarranged,
Embalming vignettes from thoughts fading fast
When tremors besiege, yet I suppress the angst;
Till I ask, ‘Woman of fog, scream my name,’
Before fiction becomes a chained reality.
```````````
11/21/2015
Contest: Mirror Of Memories 'Alzheimer's'
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
Perpetually I am thrown in the pulse of mourning against the wall
With sincerity I ask lord if you indeed subsist, apprehend my soul through it all
From the immoral ways accumulated in yesteryears
I am accustomed to transcending from suppressed fears
Repercussions in distance range persevering to be
Father exculpate this afflicted soul for trespassing those who have trespassed and scorned even me
For vile exploitation administered in reticence
For counteracting the blessings restored in the pathway of supreme acceptance
For aliments of self extorted mental strains, I request at your mercy I plea...I declare
In tolerance of relapsing the course of tempting habits; I approach your throne with a sinner's prayer
The convulsions and embittered tendencies tarnishing my soul, lord extricate my eternal spirit
I surrender to your impositions, the truth as it is; not as I would acquire it
Deliver me from perceptual incarceration, obscuring in apprehension my eyes
Impel my perception, my countenance from being camouflaged in disguise
I am inquiring redemption in urgency to be emancipated, to be set free
I have nowhere else in contingency to turn, metamorphose my persona to see
My promise to conform to your will documenting your word, I humbly articulate my plea
I beg of you to consider hearing a sinner's prayer!
I’m sufficiently tired, and have time on my own to contemplate. I still reckon I did pretty good; as the following words will convey. There are a few areas where I could have improved, but I will not be documenting them here.
My colleagues were fantastic. We did a good job in the most dire circumstances.
Here’s to the writing-
This is the problem
the rest of the world can wait.
Life starts with “A”.
gett’n down and dirty
all hands in
fight against nature
I am a nurse
I’m always fighting nature
but then again
nothing heals better
It’s not my job
to make these decisions
It’s my job
to fight the repercussions
she just crashed
you’re wading in the wash
and she was gone…
Somewhere the flood gates opened
and my fingers weren’t big enough
to stem that flow.
There once was a man named Rodger
Who became an expert tax dodger
He had boxes of papers
Documenting his capers
And kept them till he was a codger
Slaves to media hype
Feeding your numb minds
With news tripe
Celebrity Correspondence
Filled glossy pretence
Lost all feeling of common sense
In there defence, they are paid
To believe in their own self importance
Documenting lives of no consequence
Details scrutinized, laying in wait
With prying eyes, having to go out in disguise
When actually this brings more attention
Did I forget to mention? That was their intention!
Staples and tucks, staple to the diet
Eating thin air, to keep them quiet
Ten pounds gained would cause a riot
Paid to kiss and tell, myths to dispel
And expose the jezebel, cut her to size
Sent to the press gutter hell
Snapped in precarious places
With powder nose faces
Or solicited embraces
Lawyers with sharks fin
Ready to lure in
Unsuspectin’
Paid lucrative deals
Ensuring nobody squeals
Eating into royalties
Big bucks and bigger fees
This addiction, this disease
Once tasted, hard to leave
Brainwashed to believe
This is the only way
Yes, it’s naïve
But when you’re stuck in L.A. L.A. Land
With the good, ugly and the tanned
And your face is your brand
What else are you going to do?
You’re sold out and see through
Left exposed, battered, black and blue
Become reclusive behind 12 foot walls
You don’t go out and nobody calls
Washed up, wasted, worthless
No one left to impress
In your final distress
You consume pills
For imagined ills
Locked up in Hollywood hills
Drugs to wake, drugs to sleep
One to many and in to deep
Found by a maid in a heep
But at least A listers attended
And your send off was splendid
And they cried, even if they pretended
No, not like you intended
But you’re a star in the street
Forever remembered in concrete…
I am deeply honored to have been visited by more than three million people.
For more than one hundred years I have stood on Liberty Island facing the Atlantic. With glee and gladness, I have welcomed the poor and the tired, the homeless and the hopefuls.
With my left hand I have graced the tablet documenting the date of your independence. With my right hand, I am privileged to faithfully hold that coveted torch above my head. At my feet as you can see, there is no fancy foot wear, but broken chains. Liberty from oppression is my prayer for those who come to this great land.
It's understandable that by necessity, times and laws of immigration have changed. Moreover, with these eyes I see that not everyone passing me is looking to do good things. I am the lady robed in freedom with a heart of gold and standing more than one hundred and fifty feet tall. Beneath my feet I see waterways and ships from afar; but presently, I see no walls.
It is my hope that all will understand that I do not symbolize the highway to greed and riches, but a pathway forward to new and noble opportunities.
08142017PSContest, Artwork, Lewis Raynes
Chosen 'artwork', The Statue Of Liberty; Source, Wikipedia
When I was little I believed God
to be a chronicler of sorts.
Documenting each and every sin
in a big book, high up on the shelf.
Come Judgement he would ask your name,
and run his finger down the list. There would
be a number next to Timothy Hicks.
"You've reached a thousands sins,
please, proceed to the left."
And that would be the end of it.
Point blank, your fate would be decided.
A poor soul scared out of his wits,
or a happy customer delighted.
"Heck yes, I made it through!"
Now that I'm older it seems
ridiculously silly to think it all
to be so cut and dry. I can do a lot
of impressive things: play piano,
make a swan out of paper, solve a
Rubik's Cube in three minutes flat.
But guarantee a life in paradise
for the rest of eternity?
Well I'll just have to think about that!
The answer is locked deep within you.
There ain't no human alive
that can tell you what you should
and shouldn't do. But rest assured
you need not figure it out all on you're own.
Indeed that is a fool's errand
to believe this life is exactly how you planned
it out to be. It took three key things
just to have you among the living:
Your father, your mother and
the man upstairs.
On the other side I hope
to see you there. From A to Z
you will surely see every person
there ever was...
... on God's Big List.
IN THE RAINBOW OF REINING JUSTICE
Red is the flowing blood of liberation;
Black is the blood that flows from arteries
of those systematically murdered and
denied justice by the systemic tools of
racism imposed upon hued lives walking,
running, driving, or merely standing still
in the land of the free and home of the brave.
Beneath its tarnished green hue, white
is the statue of liberty; and Ellis Island
welcoming stories tell tales of bigoted pride
that laid the foundation of founding fathers’
ease of documenting a declaration of racist
oppressive servitude of red-blooded blacks.
Thus became the red, white, and blue colors
of the racist inequality of an outlaw nation
with its counterfeit law and order legalities
that enabled it to nearly extinct one race and
enslave another—all in the name of liberty.
And while the written his-story of its startling
beginning has been a romanticizing saga of the
home of the free and equality for all, the truth
of such molded lies has been shattered upon the
red, white, and blue anvil of God’s promised justice.
Today, a rainbow cultured determined people—
energized with unique fueling of peace and love—now
seek to sterilize a recovering nation of its bigoted systemic
racist infestation; and remove from its socio-economic and
political systems, remaining cancerous tumors of varied hate.
Freedom of Expression is Only Free to The Members of The Dominant Class, Race, Religion Or Segment Of Society.
For The Rest of US Payments May be made in Blood, Tears, Rights or Civil Liberties.
I am a Brother of a Different Race, Ethnicity, Color, Language and Creed, Though I Can Identify With Your Journey.
For My People Walk a Similar Road.
We have Known Slavery, Whips, Chains and the Continued Attempts to Silence Our Collective Voice(s).
This Road is Long, the Path is Steep, and the Friends willing to travel with you are Few, But I would say to be Encouraged.
You Will One Day Get There, If You Are Willing to Continue the Journey, Endure the Race, and Aim towards the Higher Calling.
Though Water, Time Zone(s), and Distance May Separate US, Know That If Your Pursuit is Positive, Intention(s) Are Honest Regarding the Freedom of All Citizens, and your Motives are Sincere and Pure, Then I Will Stand With You.
The World is Watching, Documenting and Praying For your Positive and Peaceful Resolution.
Best Regards
Paul Cumberbatch (Author, December 12, 2020)
Seven Morning Stars
In the western Carpathian piedmont
Which my grandfathers left long before,
The peregrine falcon flees likewise
From a tableau of fresco tradition,
Superstition, and tempera myth.
The me of then bested the alpine pass
Where Hannibal lost his eye.
The I of now has met equal regard,
Evoking the grim determination
With which Henry took Harfleur.
Astronomical winter commences
With numbing indifference.
Indifferent as I am to distraction,
Focused on habits of antiquity
And methods of calm consistency.
A Zen ritual neatly informed
By the flowing advent of water.
Frictionless as lighthouse mercury.
Liquid in form and function.
A fluid collaboration of body and mind.
A calligraphy of sinewy limbs
In an illuminated manuscript
Documenting Sanskrit whispers
Keeping the humors in balance
Aligned with the pace of breathing.
A disciplined manual of arms and legs.
A pacifist drill exhibiting military precision,
Casting well-aimed volleys and salvos.
Performing atheist miracles.
Conjuring Merlin-like spells.
Mastering all the rumored labors
And sundry assorted tasks,
I claim my rightful inheritance
In this temple of redemption
Where one cannot tell Zion from Babylon.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
FULL RANGE OF MOTION, BALANCE, AND CORE STRENGTH TRAINING
It was not the deceit that I was bothered by but instead the lies and the injustice
through false preach and practice of a rule considered golden. I in turn vowed
vengeance upon the lass that felt wise and sly in the breaking of said rule and set
forth to derive a plan, the plan a lesson that would teach so deep as to chill the
blood; ensuring the rule never to be broken again and allowing for its return to
golden. The plan was drawn slowly and carefully like the execution of such plan will
be. Creating multiple roads for investigation all with dead ends, false starts and
sharp surprise; all the while carefully through time, inch by overlapping inch in
stealth towards climax. False clues for fun with hints of no relevance, never ever
shall I stray from what will be done. Day bled into day and so forth finds me fine
tuning from evil edge to beautiful core what is already I am sure a masterpiece of
plans. Early stages of watching and documenting habits as well as the habitats and
lives of those listed, hundreds of random keys tried in locks, finding fits. Alas! Ten
keys too turn, ten doors open at will, silent will.
A certificate of deposit love's purchase to prepare
Penning love's earnest with liberal flare
Inscribing title and documenting deed no meager fare
Tapping into literary vault of esteemed relics your assets to pare
Initiating votive contract no trite chare
For with your appreciating qualities can none compare
Each cuddly rhyme; each sentimental stare
Bonds my pen; binds our charming affair
Each bartered simile your value lays bare
Every metonymic expression love's affadavit will swear
Each titilating allusion; a lien your affections to ensnare
Each pawned metaphor our liabilities will pair
Every allegorical kiss my life's lease will square
Every affable alliteration increases your stock a share
My hyperbolic soliloquy your dividend will declare
My epilogue tendered, 'my devotion exchanged for your care'
Sit Transit Gloria Mundi
Rick Folker
Our current consumptive culture
Salivates over
"Tech" and "Cell" and "Screen"
That transmits the lurid, pornographic
Apocalyptic scenes.
We long for the end
Of the endless 24/7 hollow info
Hoping, even praying that
The Moral Arc would start to bend.
The dreadful, the destitute in their death throes
Are caught by our ever-present lens;
The Schadenfreude tourist
Documenting the world's worsening
woes.
We check off the trauma
As part of our Holy Bucket List
And tune in and tune out of another
Kardashian/Jerry Springer blitz.
All along we lurch from crisis to crisis
Bankers scot free, Blacks burned in worship
While blaming the ever-elusive Isis
White supremacy in the land of the free?
The clown in the White house doesn't get it ....
Or does he
Like Silent Laughter
David J Walker
I can still feel the cold water
Cool my tanned skin usually drenched
in the sweat of a hoe handle and the
hot summer sun
The above ground steel tank filled from
The creaking efforts of a windmill meant to
Quench the thirst of thirsty cattle
The salt lick that became our diving board
A rare moment of splashing laughter
Rarer than rare the occasion of young cousins
allowed to play for an afternoon
as other children play in city park pools
Very aware that
We were the farm kids
And would curse in bilingual blurbs the
Profane adjectives accenting hard work
I don’t remember who was
winding and aiming
The 8mm movie camera
Capturing the moment through a lens
that would
Otherwise have been lost forever
Documenting the silent laughter of
Farm kids having fun the hard way
In the New Mexico Summer sun