Best Forebear Poems
Catwalks
Crowd gawks
Wont style
Forced smile
Strike pose
Fake nose
Weird strut
Flat butt
Scant curves
Unnerves
Small-hipped
Lunch skipped
Stick-thin
Chagrin
Faux tan
Pecan
Plucked brow
Used plough?
Long lash
Bleached 'tache
Plump lips
Veiled nips
Waxed mound
Astound
Forebear
Despair
Sweet girls
Morph churls
Sly pout
Grim trout
Taut thighs
All lies
Make hot
Post-shot
Airbrushed
Not hushed
Mere gaud
Defraud
Model?
Twaddle!
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25 November 2017
For the "Footle Form - Sequenced or Stand-Alone" contest, sponsored by Brian Strand.
Time…
I see that time has spoken by the shadows of the light, though the changing of the seasons brings me more than just the night; and the night brings more than shadows as it creeps slowly ‘ore my door, for nothing holds back time as it steals the soul I bore.
I want not to be discouraged with what time has sent to me, but ‘ere to be searching what it hides within its plea. While both the wicked and the good stand equal in their place, time is ‘ere the master with none to steal its place.
For time cannot be captured by the hands who seek it out, to command its ceaseless wanderings without a sense of doubt; yet time is ‘ere to change as ‘oft the winds do blow, sending one and all to fill their graves while itself does yet to grow.
The desire is ever endless to those who think they can; for to toy with one’s own future was not given ‘ore to man. To what end does desire cease when destruction is its friend, the grave will claim its destiny as is the silent end.
The aged hand still works the day while looking on with care, hoping that the future is still able to forebear. The simple glimpse within the veil leads us ‘ere to venture on, with promises to stay our course until our final dawn.
Time is ne’er to be captured like an image in our mind, but pushing ‘ere onward until the end…of Time
AWAKE!
Forebear I beg if I am found obtuse
Not turning from the indigent I see
Should I aver egregious a view
They be ascribed a sloth delirium
My comments here may seem not delicate
Yet if I choose travail to consecrate
Would you in intercession mediate
Bring those in need restored awakening
Explorin' the branches of the family tree can be rather dicey.
Some ancestors could be famous, humdrum er downright spicy!
With bated breath I decided to take the risk and check around.
I wasn't all that enthralled about some of the dudes that I found!
Seems that in the distant past a member of my family strain,
Was a notorious pirate maraudin' the boundless Spanish Main!
Another was a nefarious cattle rustler ever on the vamoose,
'Til a posse tracked him down and left him danglin' from a noose!
One forebear, a scoundrel who specialized in robbin' trains,
Was ensconced fer life in a cozy cell, detained in clankin' chains!
A rowdy ancestor caused a ruckus in a Cripple Creek saloon;
The high sheriff done him in one fateful August afternoon!
My lineage included a business lady of whom I proudly spoke,
'Til it was revealed she was a soiled dove, dismayin' this poor bloke!
My great-grandpa was caught dispensin' jugs of potent 'shine!
Revenooers busted him resultin' in a term in jail and a hefty fine!
A distant uncle was a goon in a notorious gangster mob.
He met his Maker heistin' a bank they were tryin' to rob!
I proffered a prayer as I examined my tragic family tree:
"Lord, may a sturdy twig adorn this tree and let it begin with me!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Entry for Judy Konos' "Relatives" Contest
People come to stare at animals there.
With no time to spare, they rush everywhere.
Moms and babies share as she gives them care.
Elephants declare their presence with flare.
Critters with long hair jump to trees midair.
Dangers anywhere, zoo signs say, “Beware.”
Alligators pair; together ensnare.
Flamingo welfare wades near unaware.
Black ravens declare their cries for warfare.
Orangutan’s flair all pose debonair.
Snakes slither and scare; many of them rare.
Giraffe heads in air stretched eating a pear.
Cutest baby bear stayed at zoo’s day-care.
Dark starts aftercare; search for disrepair.
Hunger fills the air; beast cries everywhere.
Zoo keepers’ aware help creatures forbear.
A mare with a scare had a wound repair.
Grounded in despair once freedom’s coheir.
Bald Eagle’s wing tear made life so unfair.
When problems ensnare, zookeepers say prayer.
Everyone is there beneath the sun’s glare.
Bound to a wheelchair, broke or billionaire.
People come to share; animals forebear.
1/7/2017
Why do they come to call
Those men who lack in passion
Why do they bother at all
If their blazing fire be rationed
So piercing so radiant
The fumbling for words
An intimate clumsy rhythm
Lyrics sweet melody unheard
Captivate my heart with exaggerated life
Like a summer wind playing in my hair
Sunlight dancing in your eyes ever bright
Monotony oh mediocrity please forebear
Love me with extravagance
Not dreary sunless hues
Fill your praise with eloquence
My famished femininity perused
Must I plead for security
If I fall to worship at your sight
Do not evoke my immunity
The mystery of me begs to ignite
Embrace my pain
Soothe my soul
Your longings I'll claim
No thing shall I withhold
Bid me not my heart surrender
If by time my countenance shall fall
For a lie is still a lie though delivered tender
While dreams denied the living a nightmare to all
Exploring the branches of the family tree can be rather dicey.
Some ancestry could be famous, humdrum or downright spicy!
A feller I know decided to take the risk and check around.
I'm not so sure that he was all that pleased with what he found!
Seems that in the distant past a member of his family strain,
Was a notorious pirate marauding the bounding Spanish Main!
Another was a nefarious cattle rustler ever on the vamoose.
Til a posse tracked him down, and stretched his neck with a noose!
One forebear, a scoundrel who specialized in robbing trains,
Was ensconced for life in a cozy cell, detained in heavy chains!
A rowdy ancestor caused a ruckus in a Cripple Creek saloon.
The local sheriff done him in one fateful afternoon!
His lineage included a "business lady", of whom he proudly spoke.
Til I revealed what a "soiled dove" was, dismaying the poor bloke!
His great-grandpa was caught dispensing jugs of potent 'shine.
Revenooers busted him, resulting in jail and a hefty fine!
His uncle was a goon in a notorious Chicago gangster mob.
He met his Maker heisting a bank they were trying to rob!
He proffered a prayer as he examined that tragic family tree:
"Lord! May a sturdy twig adorn this tree and let it begin with me!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Uncle Jack
Was in the army
We have the photographs
To prove it
Although the S badge
Attached to the band
Around his peaked hat
Suggests blood and fire
Rather than guns and ammo
I should have realised
Unlike our common forebear
Scottish Montrose
None of my recent lineage
Would be brave enough
To kill
Uncle Jack
Did have two brothers
That he lost
In the great war
Careless
Senseless
Hopeless
Brotherless
So he
Joined the army
Grew flowers
And collected
Willow
Pattern
China
Genealogy
—The beginning of a family tree—
The misery of his life in this unwanted land nonetheless,
made him learn how to bear in times of hardship under
the scorching sun in the field; comprehend what is the meant by forgiveness
when carrying a heavy burden on his back under the pouring lashes;
finding the way to wait till time comes in the sleepless nights,
tossing himself on the rough straw mattress.
He, therefore, knew that no man will perish
if there is a dream, whether it is sweet or terrifying,
and, therefore, he handed his dream down to his offspring.
Because my forefathers underwent unbearable agonies,
because my forebear forgave his oppressors,
their unwanted land became my own,
it became my beloved motherland,
and I am standing here as a proud member of this nation
the nation that tries not to live in the past
but live in a promised future for all.
I am holding the hands of the people
seeking oneness not because of colors of skin
but because of individual personality and human dignity.
O now is the time we most see the things
through eyes that are not distorted by prejudice,
O now is the time to realize the true meaning
of this nation’s founding fathers as they proclaimed,
“All men are created equal,”
and march to the our future proudly,
waving our nation’s beautiful flag,
in the spirit of mutual understanding and reconciliation,
diving into the unceasing currents of unbreakable promise
in the mood of harmony and unity.
In Japan the small is much revered,
transformed within the womb of heart and mind
to grandeur never gained by those who fear
what is unseen, unsaid, what’s left behind.
A leaf, a sheaf, a treasured grief in kind
becomes a shrine the living must repair,
as is the brace of kite upon the wind
in Japan the small is much revered.
When sunk beneath the tide it disappeared
a transitory fate a watery clime.
Arise, arise, on Mother’s crust appear
transformed within the womb of heart and mind.
Birth the beauteous butterfly in time,
unite the scattered children to those dear,
and each sylvan mountainside will align
to grandeur never gained by souls who fear.
Hurl all regret aside and persevere
reform what’s torn, to budding new design.
The ghosts must wait attendance, must forebear
what is unseen, unsaid, what’s left behind.
For each bold challenge met the world cheers
Japan is a nation where ties do bind
and the fate of all will be, well shared
the youngest to the eldest of their kind
In Japan……….
What is in a name? If you were an arid desert rose in bloom
A flourishing garden would be transformed in my womb
Weaving greenery of verdant emerald green whom
Embraced by Love’s profound budding existence will groom
Fashion Buds not of the desert or garden in bloom,
but joint forebear seeds bound on its own perfume
1/16/2017
Oh yes! I am bringing to you my sweetest “Season’s Greetings”!
We’re all for one and one for all we have our gradual meetings!
In just one single season;
I can change my very significance,
Into my natural underlining supernatural spiritual being,
I am inducted into a higher level of a thorough healing.
Autumn decorates Mother Earth’s leaves with painted colors of a much clever design.
Winter sheds its leaves harvesting bared naked trees perfected by one purely divine.
Spring brings many blessings by bundles pleasing my senses delicately I’m breathing.
Summer sparkles in midnight’s mystical air soothing my torturous day stained in sweat.
Balanced by my four winds in heaven into brilliant glory,
Each day you and I personally have pleasured and met!
“Season’s Greetings”!
Great Goodness!
I ‘m believing in exactly what it is I‘m seeing and feeling!
“Season’s Greetings”!
Goodness Gracious!
I’m feeling Mother Earth moving a healing inside of my own natural being!
A Sun so bright, glaring shiny throughout the endless midnight skies spreading wide out.
A Moon so light, beams flow through down into depths of seas netting webs on a mount.
Skies so high my breath loses sight in the glare of golden visions all at once I forebear.
Shallow rivers and high Mountains sounding to winds of decrees summoned by degree!
Valleys and fields rain top rocks of thunderous clouds striking down at the perfect pair.
‘Tis Season’s Greeting adjacent to humbling breaths with heirs to a mightier new year!
Paint and Plaster
So what, in essence, is this thing called paint?
A coloured liquid which, applied to plaster,
will fuse and forge a thing securer, faster,
and far more comely than before. How quaint!
Attaching thought to walls is not restraint,
not loss. It dries, and then the thought feels vaster!
And plaster’s porous, not like alabaster,
and so it’s fixed. The link twixt tint and taint!
It’s nice to think that Piccolomini fought
back tears of pride, the frescoes having stirred
sublime emotions: positively purred
to see his forebear honoured in this sort.
Alas, too soon he was, himself, interred.
And thus our high ambitions come to nought.
His smile was as warm as the summer sun.
But his cold-cold heart chilled the soul.
Debonair, golden hair, he often had to run!
Those notches scratched in his paltry pelt,
Lay evidence of his lusty embrace.
He was a hit and run, son-of-a-gun.
Many young women,
Slapped without a trace.
A new fair maiden fell for his heat.
He ripped virtue out, with a lusty hold.
Surprised at the end, not even a friend.
Her heart suffered.
The serpent’s sting –
All alone in the winters freeze,
Seething, in woman’s scorn.
- Loved and left without concern -
She had esteemed him, true.
What to do?
The answer soon was clear.
Death paid the toll in the winter cold.
Her sorrow would forebear.
Debonair, golden hair,
He no longer had to run!
Her smile was as frigid as the winter’s freeze.
And his cold-cold heart lay icy, still.
Death caught this man who left with fast feet
No more notches would he carve in his strap!
She grinned as she patted his manly pelt.
That winter of his frozen golden hair –
© February 13, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
I
I the great leader of Africa,
A true revolutionary of the pan African struggle
The acquitter ’s blood I enjoy, in the tears and sweat
Of the peasantry, I stroke and baptize all descendants
I the great dance of poverty rhymes, mambo in the melodies
Of the howls, mourning and weeping of the ancient and infantry
I the prodigious leader of liberation skirmish
Who can sojourn me? Who can rheostat me?
I for one the predecessor of soil they are sons to
Neither death nor era stances my way
I am greater than the commonalities. My voice,
Is a sword that incisions with both ends
Remind me my accountabilities and see the morning sun
I slay in any angle age nor gender despise you are mine on not
I am Malta all my age mates are departed, bereavement
Took them to their ancestors as I animate to demonstrate my supremacy
In the heights of Nyanga flora and fauna trembles the echoes of my voice
My word is the judiciary I am the law the rule is me.
I the forebear of peoples, leader of a race
As black as my skin is my heart
Only bullets can confiscate my Crown
Ballots reinforces I myself and radicalize thy
I enjoy their pitiful demonstrations peace rains on me I their reigns
Their pursuit for freedom springs me hopefulness in my livelihood
Their pursuit for justice decorate the shields an medals of my great success
Where ever they are, my ancestors are gratified, my comrades are awe-struck
This is what they suffered for in the thick forests of our land,
Oppression, poverty and suffering and injustice, a fight amongst us
I a revolutionary who enjoys dressing every newborn in
Jewelry, jewelry of chains in hands and leg irons
To the rich paint them gold, my patriots and commissars
I get them aluminum chains.
This is my story I the great leader of liberation revolutionary
A devoted pan Africanist and a leader of race
Miss your dread I be defeated my legacy, stay forever frightened