Best Heaping Poems

Recipe For Happiness


Happiness is like a cake we bake that creates the joy and fullness of life.

And, the recipe begins with one cup of resilience to keep it all together

Place next, one cup of acceptance for loving yourself dearly as you are

Put in one cupful...

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In Our Blindness, Chalked Up To Just Be Fate

Life, its complexity truly astounds
astounds this old soul so sadly earthbound
earthbound but not without imagined flight
flight into blue heavens's glimmering night.
Night of ill winds that beggars disbelief
disbelief of blindness that brings dark grief
grief of those lost, dying...

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I am having that dream of dreams again
The one that wakes me up in the night
                         Then my Heart did ask...

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Hold Those Tears Falling From Sullen Skies

Hold those tears falling from sullen skies
floods below, drown the sorrows of lost men.
Enough that mother earth hears thy sad cries
angelic sorrow, weep thou not in sin.

Remain thee stalwart, life may reverse tides
heaping on thee, joy in sweet future...

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Those rarer men I once fondly 
knew...                             
Many dead now...
What remains of them they are so 
Few....

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The eyes behind a head inclined reflect a universe

   Of shanty towns and kings in crowns and parties in a hearse,
   Of heaping mounds of coffee grounds and pennies in a purse,
   Of heart attacks in shoddy shacks, of...

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Voting day at long last has arrived.
Scrambling through closet,
a cavernous space in accumulation.
In the deepest darkest corner, 
purpose achieved, 
garnering my three by five inch American flag,
glorious yet demure.

This my opportunity to come out of the closet,
unveiled, exposed,
an upstanding silent majority American patriot.

Flag of three...

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I have trouble sleeping,
Yes, that's true,
No matter how many blankets heaping,
They all wind up on the floor,
Yes, that's makin' me blue,
And I don't wanna' stay up no more....

So I went on line,
To some South American place,
They ship goodies oh so fine,
Imagine, from the Amazon River!!!
And...

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Similar sounds and letter alliteration are literally leaping and precipitously punctuating the 
perforated pages of my mired, muddled mind.. 
     Making mental maps for future fun in meditation mired muse, meticulously masks the 
real reasons I rise from my favorite fluffy...

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The special today,
is Tom's Stew,
more than enough,
for all of you.
Homemade bread,
with garlic, and chives,
real butter without calories,
dripping from the sides.
Strawberry Shortcake,
heaping with cream,
fresh from scratch,
right out of a dream.
Eat all you want,
get happy, and stuffed,
take some with you,
he insist you have enough.
Open all night,
his lights...

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Two teens shoveling snow that February day,
wanting to hurry up so they could play,
quickly shoveling heaping piles of snow,
into an open 1935 NYC manhole,

Seeing something move down in the hole,
both teens thought "holy mole!"
yelling theres a gator down in there,
wanting to help it out they...

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A stuffy nose leads to runny nose, frozen toes and thick as jelly mucus
sitting in your chest not allowing you to rest, mucus really sucks because there is nothing you can do but suck on lozenges and say aw nuts - 
sitting on the couch...

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And because iniquity shall abound,
the love of many shall wax cold
Matt. 24:12


In the depths of their heart
is a frozen soul
Mean spirited, cruel and hateful
They got a downright nasty attitude,
will cuss you out just because
Don’t need no particular reason why
Their innermost desire towards someone 
is wishing...

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Previous dawns flock together, 
gather.
The hedgerows accumulate 
with old and new. Sprigs and twigs 
bend under the weight of 
heaping feathers.

If eyes open too soon
then a few mornings go missing,

some are still catching up
they will fly in backwards
tumbling out 
of windswept decades.

Eyes that open too...

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EARTH CHANTS

I dream and stare out my window,
windblown leaves, scars and troubles
blow like fluff from dandelions, settling
inside my shadow....hung upon my
memory-wall, reflecting moon dust
far from Heaven, out upon this shapeless
poem, buried deep within my soul...

Songs, the minstrels trusted from before,
can only be heard at low...

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