Best Getting Poems
I've grown a bit slower, I've grown a bit fatter,
my mission each hour: relieving my bladder.
When I was a youngster, I had no idea
old coots who eat fruits will just get diarrhea.
My eyesight is going - my glasses need glasses,
and don't get me started on myriad gases:
that flatus I thought should have stayed deep inside
escaped from its chamber, despite how I tried.
My hearing was great once, now I spend big money
on aids, just to know why those jokes are so funny.
I never had allergies back in the day -
I sneeze now from looking at pictures of hay.
My barber once covered his floor with brown hair -
that floor now looks gray (and there's not a lot there).
I thought in retirement I'd be a blob -
I'm busier now than when I had a job:
My schedule with doctor's appointments I fill,
the outcome of each is, "here, take this new pill".
Perhaps I once asked what that pain in my joint meant,
so now my skin's greasy from medical ointment.
Once, fully formed sentences from me were heard,
I pause quite a bit now to find the right........ word.
Back then, my vocab was a source of great pride,
now new words or phrases I just cast aside.
I need a warm blanket, my toes all feel frosted,
but walking to get one just leaves me exhausted.
Some good comes from fires becoming an ember -
I'd say it here (if I could only remember…)
I'm just getting started to face this new adventure
To roll through the changes, release my fears to the wind
Also, to conquer something inside fighting my body
As it would like to be my enemy, so I must be a friend
I will gather all my strength to rise above these challenges
I will spread my wings to fly free, as I soar the open skies
I will land where I choose and take in every beautiful view
One by one, healing me to the end of colorful rainbows
I will find love in a pot of gold waiting and then I will speak
The words meant to be heard from my journey of survival
My soul will open like a rose with thorns to protect me
Blooming to the fullest of a life thriving from true faith
Fulfilled by a purpose that is mine, meant to reach others
Then, I will sing and I will say once again, thank you God!
Heidi Sands
9/22/19
i'm just getting started
unraveling the threads
of this tattered lonely soul
sewn so long ago
apparition's crooked hands
grapples the rusty needle
as she unsteadily threads the eye
...flashback to childhood years
where a mother ties the loop
of darkened threads
cleaved from her own spool
pierced by torment
of each aberrant stitch
i am sealed in the seams
bound, unable to break free
as i bleed through the confines
of my soul's weary cries
my blood spills crimson
through shadows cast
of harvest moon
as she rocks unsteady
upon the walls of mind
beneath the hum
of unsung lullabies
watching as i undo
each crooked thread
sewn by her hands
unable to baste
with death's bony hands
she pricks through my heart
with soulless glower
as i disenthrall
the last threads
i stitch her deep
within the weaves
of memories
and poetry
...i'm just getting started
September 18, 2019
Just getting started poetry contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
I wanted
peanut butter and jam
But settled
for bread and butter
I wanted a puppy
but got a hamster instead
I wanted you to live forever
Until I wished you were dead
You promised me everything
it was always less than enough
You lacked imagination
I was never interested in stuff
Instead of substance you offered tough
Me not being understood was worse than rough
You bribed me with attention
so I would hang on every word
I was the invisible hopeful talker
who wanted to be heard
I waited for your pauses
Hoping for a say
But it seemed that you were breathless
morning night and day
Why did I think you were amazing
the true epitome
I believed in your greatness
the carefully constructed history
A lover of self a strange christianity
Your selfishness
became your blasphemy
Daddy, papa,
stranger, ghost
You gave little but wanted the most
I wanted to know you as a better man
You couldn't tell me that I could or can
succeed in life or truly stand
You lacked the ability to be that dad
All I could think was that I was bad
Still in some strange way,
you're the reason who I am and I'm glad.
My life didn't turn out to be sad
The ones in my life
Who I love and who want
I gift them with more than tears
I've learned through my years
the strength of my ears
By listening to hopes
I've alleviated fears
At times I've been their mirrors
By knowing who they are
I've helped them go far
They're better than famous
They are who they are
When someone is loved they feel like a star
All anyone wants
Is to be on the radar
So thanks to you
I'm seen in a way
Today, when it means everything
Things turned out better than okay!
Born in Madrid, in fifty nine,
A military Kid, 3rd of 7 in the assembly line;
They named me Michael, but I answer to Wedge,
A Master Sergeant’s son—not much here that's cutting edge.
I grew up a runner, and I wrestled some,
I was a skateboarding brawler and a surfer bum;
Didn’t try very hard in primary school,
Laziness, not ignorance—I was a bit of a tool.
Then I met this fine girl, long hair just like copper,
Who took me to church, sweet, innocent, and proper;
At Wood’s Grove on knees, accepting Him for long haul,
In 1978—just weeks before Uncle Sam called.
In a flash came the Navy, Marriage, college, and kids,
A submarine, 2 surface ships—I was a bit of a squid;
On to Chapel Hill, where I taught Midshipmen,
By ’94, farewell my Navy—I’m now a businessman.
Life moved fast from the crib thru each grade,
For Mom & two girls—my female brigade;
Growing up we did lots, mostly travels and school,
Plus church, school sports, dance and piano recitals, how cool!
Today, they’re gone—our empty nest in their wake,
New lives, with spouses, and pups—and new names.
So I paint and I hike—while my soulmate sews and she reads;
And we both now teach high school—sharing Christ as He leads.
I’m grateful my Navy recalled this old goat,
To lead men and women, ashore and afloat;
Retirement and selection, to teach young Cadets,
A large pain in the butt—but I have no regrets.
After 60 odd years, I’m modestly content,
With where my life’s been, and headed—once spent.
But mostly I’m thankful—family, friends and great health,
And for wonderful friendships—the source of my wealth!
Some say sixty's getting old,
Creaky knees, aches and pains, hard hearing—all told.
And I contend, aging's NOT for the faint hearted,
But most who know me know—I'm just getting started!
Although we're getting on a bit, we're not ashamed to say
that me and my good lady, well, we get it every day.
We try different positions when we're both upstairs in bed
if we're not lying down you'll find us writhing round instead.
There's tubes of stuff in drawers next to us on the bedside table
and manuals that we've bought (oh, plus the internet, when we're able).
When needs arise we get it, boy, we get it while it's hot,
it comes from out of nowhere and we're upstairs like a shot.
The word is out, and local swinging groups call to invite us
but then find what we are on about is rheumatoid arthritis!
Just getting wet
Saddened
By things done and undone,
Unhappily
I seek to abandon
Thoughts of reason,
And I step out in drenching rain
As angry sky takes revenge
On opaque clouds
Blocking its vision,
Unprepared,
I pretend to have fun
Trying to convince myself
I'm dancing in the rain,
But if truth be known
I'm just getting wet.
January 3, 2018
Placed 1st: Strand Pick 8 Contest by Brian Strand
He looked so lonely, lying there
Even his rags shivering
I thought he was asleep ...
But just as I put the ten-dollar bill
in a crevice in his cup
One eye seemed to open, and he smiled
~ I felt so warm inside
Sawing logs, one after another
Into two feet lengths
Just for the specific purpose
Of standing them up on the ground
Awaiting the iron axe
That will create a comforting
Roaring fire in the hearth
Come this winter’s cold
Canning fruits and vegetables
To store on the shelves
Awaiting the moment in time
When they’ll be lifted out
And opened slowly, carefully
With appreciation for the color
The scent and deliciousness
Of a homegrown and canned food
Cutting down hay in the field
Tractor moving slowly, assuredly
Taking the blade to the grass
Green and pungent scented
Covering the field with what will
Be racked up into piles for
Baling and creating a treasure
For the barn to store for cattle
So nice talking to people, on same frequency as me
Builds up my confidence, whilst decreasing insanity
Sometimes feel I’m the only one, seeking out truths
Then I meet some kindred spirits, here on the soup
They come from all walks of life, different countries
Northern hemisphere and one below, I’ve yet to see
We hold similar outlooks, based on past difficulties
Seem to understand each other, through our poetry
Sharing dark secrets, releasing pent up adversity
But most of the time, encouraging helpful fantasy
We inspire crazy poems, bouncing off each other
Not copying, creating, following tangents to discover
Are we friends, I guess we are, certainty not enemies
Honestly doesn’t matter, when enjoying good company
Aw he’s filling up, no just finishing yesterday’s dinner
I’m a freethinker, a rogue-poet of sorts, yeah a sinner.
POTW December 2020
By David Kavanagh
Sponsored by: John Hamilton 06/01/2020
The undebatable policy
I put above any pride
Is I would rather be hated for honesty
Than be loved for my lies
'Cause see, to me in these matters
It is the sanctity of battle that matters
More than my love for the prize
I wouldn't call it a code of honor
It's just a part of the code I honor
And I'll admit my loyalties tilt
I'm one of the furthest there is from perfect
That's my admission of guilt
So you can judge me to any verdict
But just like a story isn't the same if you've only heard it
And you can't teach a lesson until you've learned it
Just like creating the wheel doesn't make it real
Until you've learned how to turn it
My words were only a sentence
Until I finally served it
Got busted putting trust in the undeserving
Put in the cuffs by the bluffs of vermin
Sent to rot on the bottom without a hope of returning
But instead of losing all hope and just burning
I went deeper and touched down,
Went for and got me that conversion
And now I'm back on the attack
At the epitome of determined.
"Love doesn't spill miracles off the tongue
but lies deep in everything ever done"
Winter impatiently raps upon my door
twisting of knobs and rattling at chains
but amongst night time cover
I barely budge
warm thoughts slip in and seduce
transcending this cultivated mind
to fields where white flowers
once swayed with light of day
deft fingers transverse
across her lustrous skin of silk
eyes of persuasive intent
never lose their gaze
heated bodies live
in bounties ever true
tender kisses caress the night
cold's not getting in tonight
You distract me from where I want to be
You destroy my life as well as those around me
You deceive my family, putting false promises in their way
You demolish my friends, watching their lives crumble away
I am determined to get rid of you
I am desiring to kick you out of my house
To say goodbye to you forever is my dream
To wash away the misery you've caused is my fantasy
So watch your back and stay on your guard
Because I will not rest until you are lying down. cold, lifeless, dead.
My beautiful hair is now turning grey -
a sign of age that I cannot deny.
But I’ll fight it until my dying day …
I have huge stocks of my titian hair dye!
My waterworks don’t behave as they should,
I laugh or sneeze and I dribble some wee.
Pelvic exercises don’t do much good -
I wear ‘Depends’ pads that no one can see!
My memory is now getting quite bad
I repeat words, I repeat words I say.
As long as I live I’ll be very glad …
until they carry my coffin away!
Failing health and faculties, are my fears
I may live to regret my twilight years!
A fictional write – I am admitting to nothing apart from dyeing my hair !!!
Which of the four would you choose Contest
Sponsored by Sara Kendrick
08~21~16
Getting Closer To God…
One thing we need to know
most assuredly.
As a Christian,
we need Godly maturity.
We need to have a Holy Spirit'
discernment.
Let’s be filled with God's love.
not discouragement..
Time for prayer and Bible
reading must be spent.
As your commitment to Christ
must be 100 percent.
We can "pretend" to be God's child,
and act "cool."
But it's God that we
can never fool.
Take a stand for Jesus
"in a world gone wrong."
For though we are weak.
Christ remains strong.
We don't know what
tomorrow will bring.
That's why living for Jesus is
the most important thing.
Let’s make a decision for
him all of the way.
He'll never disappoint us now...
Or any day!
By Jim Pemberton 01/06/18