Best Get Around Poems
No doubt you've heard of fire-breathing dragons,
and their obsession with hoarding treasure.
But have you ever heard of Huffle-Winks,
magical creatures that promote pleasure?
Invisible, atop their dragonflies,
they ride the winds of fate, mile after mile.
And wherever they encounter a frown,
they attempt to flip it into a smile.
They summon dragonflies to get around,
for unlike dragons, they haven't learned to fly.
Yet, if you suddenly feel like laughing,
it's a safe bet; a Huffle-Wink's nearby.
In winter, when dragonflies disappear:
Huffle-Wink's ride upon tumbling snowflakes.
And if you're lucky enough to lure one,
it's like winning the lottery sweepstakes.
I've never seen one, except in my dreams:
deep in my heart, I know that they're real.
And what makes me so sure that they exist
is the joyful way that they make me feel?
When you're feeling particularly blue,
remember, Huffle-Winks are all around.
And as spirits of jocularity,
they ensure that smiles and laughter abound.
I once had knew a man
Who became older than a dead man
A tired soul, he was.
Looked like he'd never seen a bed
And
His gray hair resembled a cloudy day,
With fog, and his swollen eyes -
- looked like someone had just punched him in the face
His skin was wrinkled like a dollar bill in a child's pocket
Told to put it in his wallet, but Gosh darn it, he didn't think it
Through,
the skin on his face was sagging like the jeans of a teenage delinquent,
Or like borrowing a pair from someone who weighs a hundred more than you
His back was hunched like he was searching for answers that lie upon the ground
He had always kept his walker close to him, it helped him get around.
Too someone else, he may just seem to be an old man
But too me, he is a gold man.
'Cause That's my old man.
He’s 85 and he says he isn’t going to die.
Stooped over very badly, maybe two feet shorter now
than he used to be in his prime
and walking very slowly with his cane,
he insists on opening his own doors,
saying this while breathing heavily.
He refuses elderly care and drives a car.
He tells us he is never going to die.
Two surgeries since Christmas (nearly dying on the table);
two visits to ER this week alone;
with blood pressure so low it’s fightening,
oxygen the lowest of the low,
a pancreas with blockage, unhealthy lungs
and a heart that seems to scorn
the pacemaker recently therein inserted,
he tells us he isn’t going to die.
He says he wants to get around
to working on his beloved stained glass projects,
but they stay in his garage,
for he’s sleeping more and more.
He says he wants to write his autobiography, for
his life was fascinating; he invented things,
started up a business and had his dream house built.
Always he said he would not die.
Tonight he’s in ER having a cat scan.
He fell against his bathtub very dizzy, then threw up
and finally decided to call the paramedics.
Doctors can’t seem to help him further.
All that they can do for him they’ve done already.
He told us lately he’s been having dreams
about the wife he lost a year ago.
I bet he’ll say tomorrow that he’s never going to die.
(Written March 3, 2019 about a man well known by my husband and me. This year he is 86 years old and working on his stained glass projects)!
How wonderful it was when young to stray
and find sweet springs to sip from on my way;
to get to stroll down summer lanes and touch
the cattails’ fuzz that tickled me so much!
My childhood passed. I got to cross a sea
and see green mountains tower over me;
see sunlight streaming on a Spanish plain.
I FELT it too upon my face, and rain
I also got to feel while ambling
down Paris streets; I loved my rambling
from west to east and back from east to west.
My youthful days of rambling were the best!
I’d wandered, yet I somehow always knew
I’d make it back - my rambling days all through.
I was not made for wandering too far
nor making many wishes on a star.
I settled down. Most wandering left my mind.
I never guessed the future I would find.
One day inside my empty nest I found
(as if by magic) I could get around
to other places! Thoughts would fly to me -
the lovely vagabonds of poetry!
I do not have to leave home; there’s no cost.
Creating, I am wandering, not lost.
Dec. 22, 2021
You’re in Palm Springs, not much to do
But golf and get some sun
Hop on a cart, still almost dark
Get out and have some fun
Line up your shot, you’re feeling hot
You try hard not to push
But half the time, like you were blind
It ends up in the bush
You curse and swear like no one’s there
Dig up a chunk of dirt
You hit a house, feel like a louse
Thank God no one was hurt
You hack around, rip up the ground
The hole seems ’way too small
You miss your shot and swear a lot
This is no fun at all
Every shot’s worse than the last
No matter how you try
They don’t go where you want them
It makes you wanna cry
Your buddies laugh, you stand and chaff
You ask them what’s so funny
They grin and say, “Looks like today
You owe us lots of money”
Finally when you make a shot
You think you’re getting hotter
You rip the next shot long and hard
Straight into the water
Every shot makes someone smile
Somehow it’s never you
A foursome comes up from behind
Asks if they could play through
You shank and pull you slash and slice
You finally get around
The only part that you enjoy
Is when you’re homeward bound
You practice ‘til the sun goes down
Determined not to fail
The more you try the worse it gets
You just groove your slash and flail
Today I had a real good day
I’m happy as could be
Had lots of fun, me and my Hon
Stayed home and watched TV
All those years flew away
for nothing.
Then of course the headaches
started when weeping constantly
at the unfairness of my marriage.
You need to know that I didn't
love him but I cherish the family
we've created, you, my children
are the center of my life.
My hardships coping with
my authoritarian husband
drove us apart.
I started drifting away to
avoid being at his mercy .
I couldn't help myself to
get around those roadblocks
that at the time deprived me
from walking through
a new path of change.
I was stalling even in my silence,
aware of all the deceptions
that had come to characterize
my life.
I had learned the hard way
to stay calm and pretend
that I didn't sense what was
happening to me,
and let time do its magic.
I wore this mask for so long
I didn't feel safe without it
exposing my true identity,
it had to remain hidden .
I stopped blaming myself
as I was able to survive
my pain over the years.
Time has elapsed and done
everything to diminish
my anxiety and eventually
allow my soul to heal.
I cannot tolerate seeing
myself weep anymore.
I started genuinely enjoying
every thought that passed by,
ready to feed myself with knowing
I would not repeat the same mistakes.
I ended up riding this roller coaster
of emotions feeling everything.
I was able to survive the pain
when I was at the bottomless
despair.
My walks alone under the
blazing stars,
imagining and wishing I would
never see him again,
craving my marriage
to become a memory .
I started feeling that I found
my silence smoothed my inner anger,
my passion has been real despite
my original skepticism.
Walking towards my cottage
I knew there'd been
a reason for it.
Somehow though the wilderness
enhanced the beauty around my
cottage garden,
the clouds were getting thicker
and darker,
running inside towards
my refuge,
I realized that I liked being
in control of my own life.
At Last.
Therese Bacha
13 October 2014
There is a hammer on my keyboard
Taking me hostage
Reminding me of something I wanted to do
Yesterday but did not get around to it
I stare at it, and glare at it,
Angry beyond belief.
That I kept saying I wanted to
hang those sixty-five canvases,
and yet, there they are, not one hung up.
The mean hammer has been
Thrown across the room now,
It no longer bothers us,
My gloating keyboard and me.
Lord, have mercy! Who is that in the mirror I view?
That can't be me with the gray-haired hue!
Seems only yesterday I was a jaunty thirty-five,
Now, I'm reminded that I'm nearing seventy-five!
What are those brown spots on my hands and face?
On top of my pate, I observe a sizeable bald space.
To further deflate my ego, I wear a pair of specs.
Alas, I'm rapidly becoming one of those mortal wrecks!
My teeth grin at me from a glass on the table,
And I have a cane handy to keep me stable.
In the morning as I arise I detect a creak.
Is that the bed springs or my bones making that squeak?
In church I must occupy the very front pew.
From the rear the preacher's words are hard to construe.
It takes me more time to shuffle around the block.
After all, I'm no longer a twenty-five year old jock!
Sometimes I feel as if I'm falling apart,
But thankfully there are docs, their services to impart,
And if they can manage to keep me all patched up,
I'll get around, thank you, as well as any young pup!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
As the stars
begin
to appear in
the night sky
the snowfall
continues
unique snow
crystals fall from
heaven
We're happy
to watch the
whiteness spread
over the land
Taking a deep
breath of the
night air
we head homewards
Tomorrow it will
be difficult
to get around
But the
snow looks so pristine!
The
trees are hung
with snow
And so, we;ll
take in the sight
of a world of
white
What size is yours? How big’s your pride?
When do you take it out?
Where does it sit on your ride of life?
Does it make you scream and yell and shout?
Did you earn this pride throughout your life?
Were you given this gift from birth?
Have you shown many people?
And do you know its worth?
Well, I use mine each and every day,
Mine’s big and strong and loud,
I use at the end of each working day,
When I want to get around,
Mine’s warm inside, leather bound,
Reliably tried and true,
She’s my high powered shiny classic car,
That I keep looking new.
I've been told that I have a chronic case of procrastination,
But I simply pace myself giving things careful consideration!
Ain't no use rushing into things that I can possibly delay.
I'll just take it easy and get around tuit some other day!
The car needs washing and I really need to mow the lawn,
But relaxing in the hammock has had priority since early dawn.
I suppose I should clean the garage but that'll have to wait.
I'll get around tuit - I'll postpone it 'til a later date!
The windows need a thorough washing inside and out.
The leaves should be removed from the drainage spout.
I've been meaning to clean and rearrange the attic.
I'll get around tuit - with such things I must be pragmatic!
The shrubs and trees could really use a trimming,
But 'tis such a lovely day to hit the beach for swimming!
I don't want to think about the fence that needs painting.
I'll get around tuit, unless my spouse starts berating!
For years the doc has wanted me to shed some weight,
Or an early doom will certainly be my fate.
Alas, I just can't diet when it comes right down to it,
But I reckon in this matter 'tis best that I get around tuit!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
She gave me a star by my name
Just what I’ve dreamed of for so long
There by name, a shinning star
To PM Members I belong
She gave me a star...
She gave me a tiara for my hair
Sent messages for the “Queen”
She chased all my tears far away
A kinder heart I've not seen
She gave me tiara
She gave me a smile for my lips
Brought the sunshine right on in
It’s hard to fathom such sweet care
This friendship of ours is a win
She gave me a smile
I wish for something more to give
Than this simple silly old rhyme
I’d give her what she desired
Something that will last through all time
I’ll give her my love!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I wanted to say a very humble thank you to F J for her stupendous gift of a PM Membership. If you only knew how long I've wanted it and the reasons why I didn't get around to it....Lots of reasons. Here it is...a gift....a star by my name...by a star in my sky. :) F J....you've been more than kind to me....First the tiara and queen title...now this....I will carry this in my heart....for as long as it beats. Thank you for your wonderful friendship. God bless you!
Standing outside, I could sense it coming
like before. The air thick, still, birds
stopped singing. The sky, a jaundiced
yellow, a sickly color about to run its
course. Always wondering "will this be the
funnel cloud that takes everything away?"
Frantically, I've tried to fill a tiny bucket list
I made just for her:
Picnics to remember
Special photos framed
Comfort meals from her past
Sounds of her great grandchildren
squeeling at their birthday parties
I love you's more frequent than before
The last storm, the third we've faced,
had outcomes we were familiar with-
Tree limbs down
Electric lines dangling
Power out
But we were lucky, neighbors helped with
clean-up, power was restored, we could
get around, just a little slower.
Now I feel it coming again, that same
sickly yellow. I busy myself with
household distractions-
Move the pictures on the wall
Write this poem
Shuffle my mementos
Something catches my ear-
A few heavy raindrops
Begin
To
Fall
Moms
had
another
stroke
02/09/14
© All Rights Reserved
Good tidings young maidens it is me
The chastity belt bespoke fitter
To all princess and queen
I could tell many a tale about the things I've seen
But alas the crusades are over
No need for chastity belts no more
I did good business when the men were at war.
I'm having a closing down sale
Many bargains I've made
It's ok your secrets with me
I still fit free
With pride and dignity.
Of course I might have to make a mould with my hands
To make a correct fit
But I've had plenty of practice and been about a bit.
So come on you wenches and fair maidens
Come lay on my couch
And I'll soon get around to fitting you out
Because there's talk of another war
The men will be fighting again away
My sizes range from small to extra large
With no extra charge
Free can opener if you lose the key
And I'm readily available in an emergency
What ever that emergency maybe.
See me advertise in ye olde Cosmo magazine
With a picture of a massive one I fitted for the queen
I also sell armoured breast belts
With lock and key of course I'll have to measure
And mould your wares on display
I do that for fun you don't have to pay.
Ok Ladies I'll stay open and not close down
A new crusade has started and I'm the only man left around
Send me a E arrow or a talkagram
And I travel to please you from olde Nottingham town.
Any offers?.
Peter Dome.copyright.2014. Aug.
I use a walker to get around
A device I need in order
To maintain my balance
So I walk slowly.
People rush by
Not seeing me
Making me feel that I am in their way
Some are impatient
I feel their warm breath on my neck
As I try to pass through the subway turnstile
On my way to work
Just like everyone else.
A few say their sorry
Over time I’ve learned
That people say things they don’t mean.
I tire easily
Occasionally stopping to catch my breathe
When that happens
Gestures are all I have
Since my hands are busy
Sometimes my face becomes like putty
Primed to be explicit in nature
Grimaces
Winks
Smiles
A nod
Laughter
Mouthing the words thank you for a door held open.
If forced,
By a unexpected blocked exit
Or a person suddenly veering in front of me
I do something
That crosses the line
Melodramatic
Emotional
Or angry
I do this because it’s the only thing I can do.