Best Everything Under The Sun Poems
Jan Allison is an extraordinary poet, and full of fun.
Cleverly she writes of everything under the sun.
Her poetry reviews are gracious and kind.
A better Community Builder you will not find.
After checking the Sears and Roebuck and Montgomery Wards catalogs until their pages were torn and faded, we took one last look at the sales ads in the local newspaper, donned our socks and sandal, and jumped into the station wagon to head out to that brand new shopping place called ‘The Mall’. Wheee doggies it was something. That joint was a jumpin’. It was cool and hip and out of sight. I mean it was really far out man. The mall had everything you could imagine, all in one building. There was store after store jam-packed with VCRs, rotary dial phones, cassette tapes, console TVs, One-Hour Photo, Blockbuster, and Toy’s-R-Us. It seemed like they had everything under the sun ready for a layaway plan.
After paying for the purchases with paper checks written in cursive, we’d head on down to the food court or the all-you-can-eat buffet for lunch. We’d sit on the red plastic-covered chairs and light up a couple of Kents, Chesterfields, Viceroys, Virginia Slims, or maybe some Lucky Strikes. We’d take a couple of pictures with our trusty Polaroid to commemorate the day by adding them to the family photo album. At the end of the day, the kids would jump into the back of the station wagon for a nap while we drove the two-hour-long trip back home. It was a good thing we only had to stop for gas once because, after all that shopping and eating, I only had two dollars left from the fifty we started out with. Seems like the high cost of just living is one thing that will never die.
On Main street’s sidewalks,
the store sign say they are closed,
is Christmas canceled.
I once had a friend like you
And I knew her friendship was true
We always had so much fun
Telling each other everything under the sun
Of all our secrets and everything we would do
But you know that friend who was like you
She did another thing that you like to do
She went and told just about every one
Of all the things I had ever done
I was so surprised of the way she was untrue
I bet you didn’t think these things I knew
Would ever be found not even a few
But you see I know what to look for in a person
It’s to know that no one is true with their own emotion
So you see everyone tells someone of the things they do
Florence McMillian (Flo)
I hated myself for
disgracing myself more than I should,
I looked upon everything under the sun with jaundiced eyes,
and even tried to ignore long established ethical standards
that of the foundation for existence of human society—it doesn’t matter if it’s of a certain nation or society; religious group; civilization, tribal traditions or history.
I wonder where this negative mindset came from,
and why I am so biased of everything surrounding me
and walk dragging baggage of those contorted ideas on the ground.
In fact, a woman who looks more villainous and uglier than Medusa
wrapped in gaudy attire trimmed with vulgar accessories dances under sparkling light shaking her odious body like mad and she looks so pathetic that tears stand in my eyes. A man who looks more grotesque and frightening than the gargoyles of Notre Dame walks with great strides under the bright sun throwing out his breast but I cannot conceive the rationale for the pride of that ugly man,
my unconscious mind becomes accustomed to disallow
everything I see anywhere at all.
I hate myself because I should be unconcerned with the corrupt world matters and accept the world as it is for life is as such, yet, whatever reason that may be, I couldn’t accept the world as it is.
Although I know the word compromise very well,
I distort the meaning of it and interprete as submission
and regard assent as a synonym of subordination
I wonder why my thought became twisted thus far
and that is why I feel miserable, and think myself not, though I am.
What is your assignment? Why are you here?
Do you know your purpose and are you prepared?
Many of us are lost and in a state of confusion
We don't know our purpose and have come to no conclusions
We need to realize that it's our attitude and relationship with Christ
Which will determine our altitude and our aptitude in this life
To not concede during seasons of chaos and destruction
To believe that God has our back with a heavenly production
To comprehend that the Lord God answers to no one
As He is the Creator of everything under the sun
To fully understand that God makes the final choice
Amen, so be it He has the final voice
And it does not matter how complex or crazy is the task
Your assignment is to do whatever the Lord God asks
And you don't have the luxury to participate in the decision
For God's plans are designed with heavenly precision
He knows what you're capable of and what you can endure
And He will fully equip you to do your assignment and more
Just have the spirit of excellence when getting the task done
As it will separate you from those who always cut and run
For the beauty of excellence highlights the ugliness of complacency
And complacency is the trait that God had no desire to see
A God sized assignment requires that you do your best
And with a God shaped attitude you will ace the test
But first and foremost do a true self examination
To see if you're still able to handle the situation
To now think critically and take a second look around
To see if you're still operating with all cylinders on the ground
And if a God sized shift must be made
A new horizon in your life will be laid
And every aspect in you will be rearranged
So that you can bring about true change
Never forget that the depth of your God relationship in this life
Will be the foundation of how you worship Christ
Just don't get it twisted by misunderstanding your assignment and your role
You can't replace God for you ain't got that kind of power nor control
Just pray that the Lord God finds favor in you
And that His grace and mercy will come pouring through
A God sized assignment requires a God shaped attitude
Just be excellent when doing the task that for you God did choose
supporting the anti-communists in
the Soviet Union from
1944 to 1989---
supporting al-Za’im in Syria in
1949---
installing Shah Mohammed Reza
Pahlevi in 1953 Iran---
supporting Colonel Carlos Castillo
Armas in 1954 Guatemala---
providing weapons to anti-communist
Tibetans, from the mid-1950’s to the
1970’s---
rounding up & supporting the Laotian
Hmong to fight communists in Laos,
from the mid-1950’s to the 1970’s---
providing weapons, money and aid to
Colonel Ahmad Hussein and Colonel
Ventje Sumual’s forces in 1958
Indonesia---
attemped to assassinate Fidel
Castro various times, training
anti-communists to invade Cuba
in 1959 through the failed Bay of
Pigs operation and Operation
Mongoose---
supported coup of Rafael Trujilo’s
regime in the Dominican Republic
in 1961 and his subsequent
assassination---
supported the Ba’ath Party killing of
Abd al-Karim Qasim in 1963---
instigated, supported and provided
money to those carrying out the
coup & assassination of Ngo Dinh
Diem in 1963’s South Vietnam---
supported Joao Goulart’s removal
via coup d’etat in 1964’s Brazil---
supported anti-communist
right-wingers in 1967’s
Greece, killing what had been a
democratically elected government
there---
did everything under the sun to
eliminate the government of elected
President Salvador Allende in Chile,
from 1970-1973, including the
murder of Rene Schneider---
supported the military overthrow
of Argentina’s democratically
elected Isabel Martinez de Peron in
1976---
You no longer see them around, faded into history
Every town had one, had everything under the Sun
Well for that time anyway
The Ma and Pa type, they all had a story
It was a place for general fun
Some even did business on Sunday
Polished hard wood floor, sawdust scattered all around
Big wooden barrel full of peanuts, throw the shell on the floor
No charge, cause they were free
A place where the lost could be free
There was always a welcome mat outside the front door
Out house round back if you had to pee
The butcher, bag boy and counter man were all one
The ladies would leave their shopping list, come back later
He always wore a long white apron, white shirt and tie
He never quit until all the work was done
Free jaw breakers for the kids, throw in an extra tater
He could tell some tales, but never told a lie
Big pot bellied wood burnin stove, always a pot of coffee brewin
Where old timers could sit, whittle and spit
So they knew who was coming in the front door
Everybody knew what everybody was doing
Always spic and span, don't worry about a little grit
The Old General Store, they don't make them like that anymore
The fractured imprint of Cassandra remains;
burns bright; pounds at the gates, silenced. She says,
"Keep Quiet, your words have power.
Say only, "Let me be an instrument of your will, Lord."
Tongues and ties will bind- an act of balance with no end.
In turn, opening His love for you, pounding nails in a board.
"Your reward is not in this life: your reward is this life.
Your gift: to experience the glory of Creation with all your senses-
to learn to love like agape- an eternal constant knife
that cuts what separates and tears down all fences.
The agents of 'separation' are manifested thoughts
and actions of humans who fall into despair.
Despair leaves little room for love- so love transmutes
into compassion, flows towards you unnoticed through the air.
She absorbs the slings and arrows of despair;
a well that when drawn from, overflows and waters your roots.
The 'weak force' is more powerful than the 'strong.'
Through a matrix, "singlets" are born from pure energy-
born of an imbalance between Creation and Annihilation;
everything seen and unseen in nature has won the quantum battle
to exist for a while, but not for long.
Yet, the 'weak force' is often defined in terms
of destructive radioactive decay- that mirrors
processes observable on Earth. May we redefine
ourselves and each other backwards, from death to birth?
When the Magi presented their gifts to the Christ-
most precious and beloved, worthy gifts to a prince or a pauper.
And when He was grown, He said, "All gifts are equally beloved
and all men are princes and paupers."
There is no direct correlation:
Between what we sow and what we reap-
is everything under the sun. That which unites and that
which separates to rule are the transient game.
"Be not proud, for all your gifts and faults are tools, to help
you quantify the gifted and the poor the same."
Rewritten on 11/28/13.
kindney stone children out from god
passing through blood and blindfolded
angels.
Passing on the left with turn signals
flashing from different angles..
now im pretty sure there is a proverb
in the headlights of a 92 toyota corolla which
passes by impregnated robotic dragon
flies.
i am reminded of the sun dried
opaque
exo-skeletal bugs lying along the back of
the rear window.
somehow they seem more motionless and
beautifully tranquil than before.
the sun flares out and has never seemed
more naked to adore.
i must not touch the blisters that
form on my dashboard.
luckily there is a simple little proverb
in the ashtray.
"vanity of vanities and of what lies beneath?
well thats simple in this sunny freeway sheath.
changing lanes watching the paint peal
off a dented hood of damascus steel.
One of the oldest from of advertising the world has ever seen
Based on reputation of a person, either good or bad
It can be kind of slow or right threw a town like wildfire
Put one out of business or wipe the slate clean
Be the best news in the world or it can be pretty sad
One thing about it, it will never expire
Several years back, I was living in a small cow town
It was in West Texas, the only thing that changed was the breeze
Everyone knew everyone's business, but still they would talk
Had only one sidewalk to roll up when the Sun when down
Most everyone's attitude was do as you please
Years went by time never changed on the court house clock
Old man Livingston, had the hardware store and mercantile
Sold guns, coyote traps, even had some knitting yarn
Most everything under the Sun, probably had some moonshine in the basement
If you stayed there long enough he would make you a deal
Even had cats to get rid of mice in your barn
Told a traveling sign painter one day, " I am the advertising department"
The sign painter pulled up in an old station wagon jalopy of a rig
Filled with half empty paint cans, saw the old sign outside
"Mr Livingston, your old sign could use some paint from what I see"
"No Sir, on advertising I am not very big"
"See folks from around these parts know me far and wide"
"I will tell you my secret and I think that you will agree"
"See the first time they come in, they try to get me in the end"
"They think that they are going to get a bargain"
"And I even throw in some things for the wife"
"Then I figure up the total, Damn Livingston I thought that you were a friend"
"I give them a big old screwing, they are still trying to get even"
"And that way Son, I have them coming back for life"
In Kenya, they are called value-added taxes, “yani VAT”.
They change and increase every year
And are placed on everything under the sun.
The prices increase daily,
But they say it would lead to everyone paying their fair share of tax.
They are better referred to as poverty taxes,
Because they punish the poor to become the poorest,
They entrench selfishness among the neighbours and friends,
They take away the only saving of the poor in the society,
and one wonders why the poor remain the poorest.
The tax takes the homes,
The mortgages become unaffordable,
The rent skyrockets in Nairobi, Kisumu and Mombasa,
While the gas prices become unbearable.
The cars and bus rides become a luxury,
and our lunches are taken from our mouths.
The tax man is always on the door,
You wonder if you are under some emergency evacuation.
Taxman takes every percentage of your hospital bill,
Or school fee, or your child’s pocket money, or church tithe offerings,
Until there is nothing positive to take away.
Worst of it, the bills and penalties are always in your postal mail.
The services offered at government offices are poor.
The civil servants are rude to the core like vampires.
The infrastructure development is wanting,
The electricity blackouts in rural areas are frequent,
Education facilities not well equipped,
Health facilities are rotting from inadequate funding,
and any innovation is suspiciously viewed as a threat.
The tax man never explains where is the tax,
Nor what development activities were completed.
The poor’s voice can’t be heard yet everything is taxed.
The poor continue to be taxed to poverty,
While the tax man feeds the corrupt all the taxes.
A war inside must be fought
to find the purpose of dreams
sought.
Trying to put the lies behind and
the truth be caught.
Grasping for something, anything
that will make sense.
Inside her mind searches for everything
but never finds anything.
Exhausted from running the race meant
to be won but always lost.
Running to strangers but they do nothing
but shun.
Finally, the search is done after uncovering
everything under the sun,
She realizes and all becomes clear now that
she needed not search for dreams sought,
for she never had one after all.
A war inside must be fought to find the
purpose of dreams sought.
on the banks of lake michigan i found my true loves soul
tired and twisted in a wreckage of folded metal resembeling avatgard sculptures
nameless, senseless, and cold i drug her from the wreckage while the sky was painted red and black
now with the moon in my eyes i breathe life into her mouth but each breathe given means each breathe taken
as as the sun begins to rise i see visions of a former life- forgotten life when we once loved eachother-
when we were children dancing in the spring rain
warm and wet we embrace under endless rainbows saturated with everything under the sun
we become spring rain, we become one
now with the coming of the day i say farewell to past love, i say farewell to past life
where im goin no man can follow
im going to the sun so i can stay warm.
Enchantment
a vast universe filled with
enchantment
the cosmos beg for our undivided attention
but our minds are fluttering with
dissension
in order to see beyond our messy surroundings
we must take a step back
back to our core
remind ourselves that there is something more
a heaven can be found
there is infinite beauty all around
there is a place where
dissension subsides
a place where
everything incredible collides
a wonderland of the imagination
real to those who honor their fascination
laughter floats on the breeze
a beautifully messy clammer rustles through the trees
differences are embraced
as love takes Hateful’s place
a love so pure it cleanses the world
a love that yearns for nothing in return
unconditional
this kind love is no longer fictional
peace flows gently
protection from calamity
worn minds take a rest
floating on peace’s quiet chest
peace and celebration coincide
festivity is pulled in by the tide
the veil dropping
a mundane existence now blushing
luminosity dances in the air
vivid colors illustrate a world where people care
Human eyes are opened
the universe has fulfilled its call
its full beauty recognised by all
it’s vast extension far surpasses comprehension
the world is no longer a place of suspension
macrocosm bends it’s finger
in devout pleasure it motions
for the no longer mortal to paint it’s oceans
creation’s touch is like a declaration
art is admired in all its strange formation
chasing of dreams is no longer absurd
the passion in someone
is embraced by everything under the sun
a discovery of self
fulfillment
embracing what makes a person content
adventurers are born
humans notice nature’s adorn
the world grants bliss
to all it’s kingdom consists
heaven is out there
peel back life’s layers
to find the wonder we must all share
love truly
live passionately
embrace life’s insanity
never give up hope
heaven can be found within life’s infinite scope.
In the tower of poems
Singing about everything under the sun
His eyes like the Adriatic sun
He travelled with beauty
And danced with it
Till the end of life
Till the end of love