Best Inconveniences Poems
And
Goat heads, cockleburs, and cow pies.
These are the things
we live with, in the country.
Some you step on,
some travel in your clothes,
and some stink.
Foxtails.
That sounds so beautiful.
They are terrible.
They cling and bring pain
to the feet of dogs.
Don't get me started...
on mosquitoes and blood-sucking vermin...
that find us all in the day,
and in the night.
Yet we still go outside.
We still want to touch,
trees, and flowers...
and lay in the grass.
Ticks stay away,
fleas go somewhere else.
This is the best place,
to be calm and set the pace...
backward, or at least slowdown.
Chores make the time pass without notice.
Tired muscles and an achy back
replace the need to be concerned...
about the small things.
Yet inside,
peace reigns.
Even at the cost of life's
tiny inconveniences,
there is a payment of joy,
that only He can dole out.
I am a push-over
a wren wanted to live in my hair
she is a small bird, so I agreed
there is a nest up there now with four eggs
I cannot shower or bend my head
Restaurants will not let me in
My husband has left me for another woman
Small inconveniences
A monkey asks if he can move into my green backpack
I do not use it in the summer, so I nod my head “yes”.
Because I do not want to sound selfish.
And he asked in a polite way.
He brought his friend, the crocodile, Freddy.
Freddy is lounging across the middle of my bed.
“He does not bite,” the monkey assures me.
My friends do not visit any more but they send me their laundry
Because I am a push-over.
I knew a cat once named Peaches. He was an all-black cat, but not one of those that could be described like a “shadow”, never be named Bagheera, never moved like a “black bolt” or even be described as “mysterious”. You’d never mistake him for a bad omen. He wouldn’t make a very good Halloween mascot either, the boy ran with wide-eye from vacuum cleaners and drooled in his sleep for God’s sake. Peaches had one eye. I never asked him how he lost it, or if he traded it for some extra lives or something. Frankly, I don’t even know if he remembered having two. He, with astounding two-eyed confidence, would size up the antique, conversation stained dining room table and leap up there, skewed depth perception and all, to fall six inches short of his goal. Never seemed to bother him though, two seconds later (eight seconds in cat years) he’d wiggle his butt and give it another go. Never letting one eye or wood tables or any of life’s other traditional inconveniences stop him. He could have written really great self-help books. Now that I’m thinking about it, Peaches taught me a lot about life. Most importantly, that the two o’clock sun was the best place to close your eye and doze off for an hour (four hours in cat years), drool a bit, and dream of a world without vacuums.
ONCE AGAIN
Fanciful images play gentle on the minds of children young and old.
Anticipation becomes a forever word that compels dreams and expectations
to struggle with and sometimes overwhelm impatient patience.
Exotic perfumed scents of fir hovers in the air exciting already taut senses.
It clashes delightfully with the bombardment of brash bright colors that
blink, blink, blink slowly mesmerizing hurried minds into thoughts
of blissful peaceful solitude.
Touch the air. Feel it effervesce with sparks of remembered enjoyment.
Of days filled with colors wrapped and tied into careful gifts brought forth
from a rotund man wearing colors of white and red.
The shadows of log fed flames lightly dance around the room in friendly
shades that caress softly and speak messages of comfort and safety.
Familiar melodies bounce along walls and ring bells of spiritually dusted joy.
Mother, covered with the flavors of passed down recipes drops
her apron and proclaims the evenings feast .
Mouths water from images of epicurean delights and eyes widen
anxious and desperate to take it all in.
Now and then I ask myself...
Can love expressed in this complex manner
cut through the hostilities of everyday inconveniences?
We smile and cheer on this annual ritual in hopes
that in some way this interruption in time
will clear away the sludge that clogs the engine
of soiled relationships bred with the guilt of
Auld lang syne and the countdown to Day one, once again.
C.A.K. 12-12-2012
There are places I’ve grown from some far and wide
Past my heart and lingering within my mind
There are roads I may have crossed craggy and forgotten
Each step I take I ascertain more clearly
Through the willful nights and past stories
I never looked back for more than a mere second
Whispering all the things I saw and sensed
I’ve learned to transform inconveniences and annoyances
This wind that now blows shows me-
I must discipline my intellectual truths
Training in the joy of day to day
I shall walk along the ruins of yesterday
On a journey of understanding myself
With less fear and doubt and wiser to the day
Hey,come 3rd quarter of each calender year, it is that time of the year again,
This phenomenon is headlined in local dailies each day, again and again...
An enviromental situation, all kinds of experts in general do agree...
A regular man-made consequence from widespread clearing and burning of trees..
All over the country, as in the whole Asian region, the sun is but a blur pall of crimson...
Evidence of the filtering effects of the haze particles in atmospheric conditions..
This pall of haze or jerebu is now a password upon which to start a conversation...
Something akin to the British How's The Weather way of striking up a conversation..
Make a comment about this hazy situation and you can be sure of an observation...
That something urgent needs to be quickly done to elevate this distressing condition...
Everyman in the street is aware of this thick smoky mist that envelope the environment...
People are advised to use face masks to reduce the intake of unhealthy irritants...
Even as the sale of face masks are flying off the shelves, what a situation...
People with breathing problems like asthma are to stay indoors, lessen outdoor exertions..
Scheduled flights has to be cancelled unless flying visibility index is acceptable...
Schools are ordered to close when the official haze index breach certain levels...
Cloud seeding efforts are in force to seed rainfall which will clear considerably the opaque sky..
Just so that such unhealthy and unfavourable conditions will not cloud future skies...
Government efforts are intensified to once again negotiate for cross border cooperation...
Time and again, all these actions are routine responses to mitigate the people's indignation...
For year to year, we the public , suffer all kinds of inconveniences and challenges..
When each calender year enters the 3rd quarter, we suffer again this haze in stages..
Hopes are high, maybe this year things will be different, things will be better...
Down come the promised rain and the situation clears, until the next year...
When once again we all go through the whole rigmorale of negotiations and deliberations...
Safety measures and advice for the masses, cloud seeding efforts and of course, fervent prayers...
Welcome to the haze situation here in Asia...!
Overnight the calm was shattered asunder
as lightning, presaging rolls of thunder,
reverberated across the darkened sky,
flashing warnings heavy rains were nigh.
Next Nature’s pyrotechnics, in awesome display,
turned the black sky of night, into day!
As the deluge began with a barrage of hail,
so we had concerns, for it never seems to fail
that rain, though it is desperately needed
often arrives without restraint. Never heeded
are the cries of such as gardeners, who fear
for damage done to what they hold dear!
Came the day after the night before,
eerie silence displaced thunder’s roar,
whilst dank fog rising everywhere,
was a sign of cooling summer air.
Although the storm was soon away,
the rain continued, until break of day,
then as the dawn arrived, so the skies
lightened, and it came as no surprise
to see our world was washed clean.
The countryside possessed a sheen,
that sparkled in dawn’s brilliant rays.
A sight not seen for many hot, dusty days.
North winds had brought about this change,
and many folks were grateful. To exchange
the heavy, humid ozone laden air overnight,
with a cool breeze, was a refreshing delight.
To breathe air washed by a cooling rain
is a summer delight, and we need not explain
the joy that had been desired, for many days,
and was awarded us by Her cleansing ways.
Such are the benefits of summer rains,
despite inconveniences, there are also gains
to enjoy, and these were found most pleasing,
for the smog was gone, and heat was easing.
Nature often spawns summer extremes:
from parched soil, to flooded streams,
whilst erratic winds with tremendous force,
arriving from a distant southern source,
cause chaos! Replacing the summer breeze,
they damage and uproot ancient trees!
When she unleashes such fury upon the land,
Nature’s motives are hard for us to understand.
But when we consider the weather we have had?
often the good of a storm, outweighs the bad,
so we, being thankful for her drought slaking rain,
hope her needed blessings, will return again.
Rhymer. August 19th, 2016.
If there's one thing to remember as you travel life's highway
We're all made of the same stuff
Bones, skin, hair, and smashing good looks
Oops sorry, not everyone is blessed with good looks like this dude
Mummy and Daddy's genes combined
For an extraordinarily handsome specimen of male virility
Had to fight the girlies off with a big stick
I know, I know, shouldn't be complaining... right!!!
Some of us just have to endure these minor inconveniences
Hollywood movie stars have much the same “problems”
Have to admit, at first it was very flattering
But that soon wore off and it's now quite a nuisance
Having to sign autographs every time I step outside the door
Guess it's the price us over the top handsome folks have to pay
For the adulation of the adoring throngs
You may ask, “IS THIS GUY SMOKIN' UP?”
Sure sounds kinda whacked out to me, I must say!
Aww! But he's got such a sweet heart
Hang on, hang on, I'll soon be back to my humble self again
I'm sorry... it ain't easy being humble you know!
My tongue is planted firmly in my cheek!
© Jack Ellison 2014
The formality of it stings.
“How are you?”
Delivered with a self-conscious courtesy and
a poverty of emotion
calculated to immediately keep
me at arm’s length,
fencing herself in.
There was a time when this
same greeting would
have been prefixed with a
velvet-soft “hey” and saturated with
a low hum of closeness
that instantly muted the world around us,
drawing me inside the fence with her,
accompanied by a slackening
of features and posture,
as if the short separations
demanded by work and
other humdrum inconveniences
of daily life were
reluctant journeys,
and home was wherever
I happened to be.
The piano player in a corner of the bar,
as if sensing the intrusion of
something buried into the world of the living,
the chance encounter of
present with its past,
is now, with a mischievous glint in his eye,
playing the kind of
slow, tinkling jazz tune that,
echoing from many nights past,
is freighted
with a desolation of angels.
We're talking like fugitives fleeing our own shadows,
the plastic pleasantries we exchange
a cover-up,
every word the coded equivalent of
“don’t go there”,
slow dancing
without touching.
Too soon, or too late,
we decide it’s time to put an end to the past-present,
like two estranged parents enforcing an
early curfew on former versions of themselves.
While we're walking away from each other,
the piano notes waft like wayward stars
through the door of the bar,
trailing two ghosts who are,
behind our backs,
eloping into the night.
Since moving to our brand new home
There's things I haven't found
Like my pair of pearly white dentures
And Dufus our basset hound
Still haven't located my tightie whities
People are holding their noses
Till I find 'em gonna use lots of cologne
And carry a bouquet of roses
Now certain things take top priority
Like oil for my artificial leg
The damn thing squeaks unmercifully
“FIND THAT OIL!” Cathie begs
The kitchen stuff's in the living room
We're sleeping out on the lawn
Neighbours are peering out their windows
Expecting some “goings on”!
All things considered we're doing fine
Minor inconveniences they are
We'll soon be sleeping in out of the rain
And be happy campers, by gar!
© Jack Ellison 2013
This itching
It’s like a drug withdrawal
From my body
And I fall
But I don’t do this intentionally
I do this because
It’s what I do
No stepping of the ledge
Easily—
No willing sacrifice
Just me
Falling—
Because there is no where else
To walk
This is me
This is who I am
This is what I do
Do not thank me for it
I do not want it
But don’t also think this
Saddens me
Or inconveniences me
In anyway
This is what I do
This is who I am
This is me
Think of me as a tool
A well-guided instrument
To a poorly thought-out
Providence
This is it…
Or maybe
Simply
That one you forgot
You remember
Now that I prod you
I’m the method—
You used to know
As the day dusked yesterday,
The deflowered sun shone down
with those eyes of a goldfish
'KATH’, got a light; 'EER’ lit a room;
And ‘AH’ illumined the night
No sound of a thing in your presence.
No bullet whirr, no horn blares
Not even the tick tock of the clock.
And thoughts of how good it is
To smell life and to sniff an ambush
on a friend
Newly met under an unsolicited
climate, crowned it all.
As bloated black eyes remained
promptly nudging on her fancy face
The blink of her eyes lasted on her
glance like a mirror
Reflecting how lucky Africa could be
To breathe this crevice of word out
in an ancient city
For pleasure, treasure and tender…
And how good it is to every ear…
Those cheeks in the dark that
dazzled joy and sorrow betwixt…
Is these all a happenstance…? I felt
the drip! Drip!! Drip!!!
Of the succulent drizzling rain, whilst
seated under the shade of the home
of sanctity
And the thought that someone has
to helm the hound of your name for
real, dawned on me. At night I
dreamt without sleeping; sleepless
thoughts of insomnia ravaged me,
yet my intellect hatched; and
became a slither of beauties of
mangoes, pineapples and roses
likened to you.
Yet how good to prick the secret fruit
to speak and felt her cajoling voice.
In my muffled thoughts, I slew my
intentions in cold blood and rolled
the inconveniences of those
moments in a raffia mat and hid
them in a secret blanket.
The cool weather speaks gale and
blew its wind from the north. I
shivered beneath my ribs, yet
unnoticed to her. I stood and smiled
in espionage and intrigue.
Whilst enduring the stark misery of
the chilled weather. It was over and
out, yet her name blots my thoughts
until cock crow…
FRAGILE HEARTS
F alse friends force me to feel fretfully furious,
R eason turns to regret as I remember the rejection.
A m I antagonistic to anybody's approach?
G uilt gives greater grief than gladness;
I ain't interested in increasing inconveniences...
L et's learn to love, laugh, live and let live,
E ventually, everything will end in an enjoyable experience.
H appy harmonious hearts happen to be healthy,
E nergised by encouraging and empathising with everyone;
A lthough all around me, angry arguments arise,
R esulting in relationships going wrong,
T o the True and Triune God, I totally turn,
S teadily, my sorrowful heart finds solace in this Spiritual solution.
------------------------
24.10.16
Look into m~y h~e~a~r~t,
A lot of doubts have piled,
Lord, let them depart,
Please, make me feel worthwhile,
This heart too i~s f~r~a~g~i~l~e.
---------------------
Form: Quintain
10.11.16
Do you know my friend named Faith?
With trust in God, she treks through inconveniences,
stepping sprightly over them
with supreme optimism.
Smiling with ease, she saunters
along her life’s path, sure-stepping
for always she knows the way to go.
In the darkest of her days,
she still marches on;
a soldier of hope is she.
Some nights, she strolls,
face toward the heavens,
searching for the Star of David
so keen are her convictions.
To her friends and family,
she is an angel
ambling happily alongside them
and slowing down to lift them up
should they stumble and fall.
She loves her man
with the heart of a loyal lioness,
and he cannot help but reciprocate
her many kindnesses.
Do you know this woman?
Her faithfulness is to the sky,
for she’s got
high fidelity.
The mat outside my door says folks are welcome.
How many months will pass before that’s true?
Though some who make predictions have great knowledge,
they've nothing concrete to support their view.
This epidemic spreading through the nations
has changed our lives. Each day seems more surreal,
but my small inconveniences are minor
compared to heartbreak many millions feel.
I ache for those whose loved ones have been taken
by this pandemic and those gravely ill,
the ones who risk their lives each day for others,
and those who lost their jobs and can’t pay bills.
I feel for working parents and the children
who never failed a class until this year,
those used to being taught inside a classroom,
now home, on I-pads, due to wide-spread fear.
I praise those who give time, supplies, and money
to those in need. Such times bring out the best
in many. Volunteers prove pure compassion
brings joy and peace in life’s severest tests.
*UPDATE: Our parking-lot stay-in-vehicle services occurred a few
months back. We're back inside, but some haven't attended since March.
Date: April 4, 2020
Contest Title: Quarantine Poems placed 1st
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
December 11, 2020
entered in Nina Parmenter's It Feels Surreal Contest