Best In Progress Poems
Written for Jan Allison, who then decided I should share it for poop verse afficionados.
True story, by the way.....
There are some jobs where heeding worker's safety is required
and during operations must be suitably attired
environmental hazards mean that everyone conforms
and wearing full length protection has now become the norm.
In this case, paper snowman suit with hood and full length zip
a sturdy piece of clothing and is not inclined to rip.
Whilst clearing out some premises a worker got caught short
and knew he'd never make it to the toilet, so he thought
and made a break for the nearest hedge with a newspaper he'd bought.
Just in time he squatted down, the time lag all too brief
as out in one loud massive jet his bottom got relief.
The job now done he zipped back up and dressed just where he stood
not realising, squatting, that he'd done it in his hood.
It soon became apparent, as his headwear pulled in place
as fly attracting runny doo doo dribbled down his face
His workmates doubled up in laughter, just making it worse
as he stormed off in anger like an Oreo in reverse.
So since time immemorial, the moral's been the same
that when you go, then please do so, but
just you watch your aim.
For Jan, with love 'n hugs and trembly bits, Viv x
I am not finished yet, nor am I perfect.
I am a lifetime project.
I am a work in progress.
Each day, I grow a little.
Sometimes bigger … sometimes smaller …
Always older … often wiser …
My days would seem to be all the same.
Rather sluggish … Frankly boring …
And they are, yes … in the main.
Yet each one has a gift for me.
A thought, perhaps a memory.
Something for me to savour.
Another tiny piece that I can fit
Into my personal jigsaw.
The big picture of me …
The picture that I will never see.
The one I will leave for my children.
I hope they’ll like it!
Finally tears of joy swim from these tired eyes
No longer am I drowning in murky waters
Nor trapped in a crowded school of goldfish
Today I dive into fresh invigorating waters
Hoping to make a huge splash
To pay forward a path for others
Never will I forget those who kept me a float
For they are my hero's and they always fed me hope
Well it's the reason for tears on your face
Well it's the reason for no embrace
Well it's the reason for no sunlite skies
Well it's the reason for your frown
It's the reason you are so down
It's the reason you're no clown
The recliner is totally down
Caput, Colapse,
And it's no surprise
Tears coming from your eyes
Part of you has died
Lying on the carport
Waiting to be buried
With memories inside
If that recliner could talk
Though born a sinner, I shall be…
A saint of God eternally.
By Faith in Christ, great Hope I see.
He is not finished yet with me.
Though trials test and pain abound,
His grace and mercies are my glee.
His arms of comfort doth surround.
He is not finished yet with me.
Though sickness deals a heavy blow
The great Physician hears my plea
He works in ways I cannot know
He is not finished yet with me.
Though loss has robbed me many times
He restores me so faithfully
I know He’s steadfast every time
He is not finished yet with me.
Though sadness comes, I never doubt
His Word is my security.
From weeping then to joys I shout
He is not finished yet with me.
spectrums
of art
bring
wonder
and ecstasy
a
fleeting
inwardness...
a heightened
sense
of the infinite..
so distinct
a visual
chord
yet
out
of key,
an
idiosyncratic
act
of freedom
and chance
evolving..
into
a complete daub
upon
the canvas
of experience
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
--------
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
---
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
…
..
.
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
...
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
KNOWING
...
..
.
Flying airships battling in the open sky,
the sailors trying to save their own lives,
and all the panoplies of war revealed in broad daylight
unto the human psyche.
The cosmos composed wholly of oceans with no dry soil in sight
contains many micro planetary islands that glide
in the sky's atmosphere where men created their different ways of life.
Herdsmen hunted on the island's green fields and forests.
Soldiers worked in their iron workshops.Crystalline lakes displayed nature's beauty. Many a gorgeous a creature of nature they captured in their nets.
Stratigos,a hunter, also loved to fish in the clear streams abundant with eels. His dear friends followed him throughout the biome, witnessing many wonderful sights
such as tigers,trees,eagles and pollinating bees, the lioness giving suckle to her young,and many a mythical creature that defies explanation."
Raised he was in a quaint village,in whose verdant plains he played with all his pals.His female friends gathered many rainbow-colored flowers by whose sight and smell were made ecstatic.
Upon a certain day,a flying chimera snatched his friend Mike with its aquiline talons that tear apart its prey.The lion-like chimera with an eagle head concealed him in his cavern hideout,unseen by human eyes.
He analyzed his body and psyche to see what was worthy to eat. In despair Mike's cries for help resounded through the cavern walls.He heard his own echo.
From afar his friends were dashing to his aid through the dense vegetation with thorns drawing upon their blood. Red it was, stained upon their drapery.
They complained not at their pain for their aim was to aid their endangered friend.
Stratigos exclaimed;
With Mike in danger,
surely we must not fail him,
For friendly fidelity
Faces us with the task
of his salvation.
Alina replied
Through the mud and sun that scorches our way
We must pick a path and dash as fast as trotting stallions
for our cause is noble and pure,
so Therefore let us not be wasteful with our pace.
And they arrived upon a green moss covered road that drove Them to a grotto surrounding the creature's cavern.
Poetry is a tree that stands alone
Till it matures fully grown
Little by little it adds from birth
Watered by emotions full of worth
Nourished with words simple and complete
Creating rhythm and internal beat
Capable of saying things quite profound
Sublime Rhymes and ideas abound
Early or late we think and create
And wait for words that relate
Sometimes inspiration can be quick as summer lightening
But brilliant ideas don’t always flow
So in the end we may reap what we sow
It stands to reason no matter what you do
Sometimes there will be no rhyme in any season
Even with revision it ends up all the same
And the poem begins to sound pretty lame
If it turns out bad we have no one to blame
But all things being the same
All we have left is personal satisfaction
We end up with elation or with a retraction
The Beheading of Thomas
Let the clowns play on heathens dirt floors
With the rabble and unwashed masses
The Squires shall reside above
With men at arms and knights of superior glove
Allegiances to kings and royal courts
Let the bishops sort out the cohorts
Be deceived not by those with no letters
Saying they are poets for the better
They worship their own idol minds
While the wise ones seek out their own kind
Seekers who only find battle
Silent ones who preach with loud voices
Forewarning to the masses
You have better choices, forget their pretentious classes
Walk among the islands grazing sheep
Contemplation rewards the humble and meek
Trumps Rubies may shine today
Under rubble I assure you
They shall be one day
Contemplative, taciturn
Willing to commit
An immutable zeal to learn
Endowed with acerbic wit
Endless potential
But having few outlets, to express it
Seemingly aloof or deferential
Unintentionally causing pain
Coming off inconsequential
An indelible stain
Easily misunderstood
Without composure refrained
A lonely soul, I haunt this peopled earth;
and ever solitary, I beside
remain untreasured and ne'er knowing mirth.
Woe am I! For wherefore do I confide
in Thee, O Lord? For, alone and unloved,
I perish day and night, year after year:
for You have not willed my dearly beloved;
but, sick of my requests, turned a deaf ear.
Be that as it may, Poesy's a comfort,
a just redeemer and a savior:
whose craft provides spiritual life-support;
and sustains my poor heart like no lover.
O Lord, though I have found a new mistress;
have grace on me as a work in progress!?
I'll write to you of medieval ages,
Foreign lands,knights and of many sages.
Medieval verse,and versification
With ancient meter I shall imitate,
To flesh out this age's animation.
And stories fictional and real I'll tell.
The souls of sundry virtues and vices
I shall show to men of all kinds of eyes,
So that I their souls might excite to life.
Who truly is alive without his senses,
yet many minds live with mental fences.
The Gods were chased away from this bright land,
And many countries were drowned in darkness.
Art was unpainted,clogged up fairy wells.
Unlearning became the new science of man
And music deemed to be of Satan birthed
For its mirth, and carnal rhythmic pleasures.
Oh of truth this divine art of muses,
Music's mothers, the soul with beauty fuses,
Yet still were libraries burned to ashes,
and with timeless secrets the fool clashes.
Empires undone from within and out,
To be hewn down by hounds to war devout,
Who from savage forests came to devour
The sheep and the pampered puppies of Rome.
The Gods did pity these once great races,
the light torchbearers which the dark faces
with it’s all consuming flames of sheer might
which scorches into ashes scrap and dross,
to fuel its holy energy and fire,
the giver to mankind of life so sought.
Many Many Jobs
If I was a kid,
I'd stack them like pogs
Never did I find a place
That I wanted to pursue
A legitimate company
Seemed long overdue
Searched and Searched
Found no more
Can't be late or get fired
Really? Who's keeping score?
Finally found Verizon
Worked on the phones
Thought it was a final destination
Melted my sanity to my bones
Felt I was sufficating
My world overwhelmed
So many feelings bottled up
So much, I no longer felt
Ice Princess
Needed a recess
From all this crap
It's like someone threw water on my face
Gave me a good old SMACK
Got sent home
Couldn't go back
How on earth
Did this country get so of track
We value money over health
Companies take our brains with such stealth
Gotta look at this and think
If I owned a company and saw employees this way
I could NEVER turn the other cheek
If they do,
What motivated me to find another
Nope, not again,
Got nothing to lose
Broke as hell, but I've still got honor
I'd rather go bankrupt than help them stand tall
So why am I here?
God has a reason
But to me its unclear
Everyone has a time
With their life ends
There's no more rhyme
There's no more friends
They were put here to do something,
Big or small
It's not like there's a wall that limits it
Got lets you know when you're prohibited
So until the numerous small things come up
Or I run into some ridiculous large hick-up
I'm going work to bring my dreams to life
They're no good in my head
If I die,
No one can dissect it and say
“I'll do this instead”
Makes sense to me to take the time
The moms and pops working hours overtime
On their own goods and shops but somehow are still behind
I'll promote you!
My shop too!
A mall filled of homemade moms and pops goods
Made in America, this must be understood
The saying “It takes money to make money”
Remember that when you order pancakes with a little honey
Nothing in this world is free
If you want your kid to get a good job out of school with a degree
Say goodbye to anything made overseas.
When Darwin revealed our connection
To apes via natural selection,
Some gibbered, “You devil;
How beastly to level
A charge that our creed needs correction!”