Best Investigate Poems
Island Spirit
Palm trees are swaying island style
Within the gentle trade wind's flow,
As Egrets glide on salty air—
Then land where verdant grasses grow.
Breathe in sweet scents of tuberose
And let fine mist caress your face,
Dive deep into aqua waters—
Become enchanted with this place.
Let your eyes consume the beauty,
Let rhythmic music soothe your mind.
You'll feel the aloha spirit—
A kinder people you won't find.
Go hiking in hillside forests,
There are no bears or snakes that hide,
Just waterfalls you'll find waiting,
That flow toward the ocean side.
In the distance whales are breaching,
Humpbacks with little calves in tow.
They share waters with the dolphins,
And green sea turtles down below.
Can you hear paradise calling?
Whispering your name at sunrise,
To later bask on pearly sands.
Swaying hula hips at moonrise,
Coaxing you to join in the dance.
Exotic Mai Tai in your hands,
Sweet flower leis caress your neck,
Come investigate our islands,
And board on wild waves at surfside,
Cast your cold and cares to the breeze.
Sailing out on sunset cruises—
Take homeward bound warm memories.
6/20/20
Poem of the Day at Poetry Soup January 17, 2015
SOMEONE STOLE MY SNOWMAN
Someone stole my snowman, I only made it yesterday
A carrot nose and coal for eyes in the traditional snowman way
The thieves were pretty clever; they left his hat and scarf behind
They also left his carrot nose so he’ll be right and hard to find
When I realized this morning, that my snowman wasn’t there
I thought I must investigate, this rather sad affair
But there were no clues that I could see, just a soggy scarf and hat
And a little patch of yellow snow, but I’m sure the dog did that
That smiley, chubby snowman, was built by my own hand
A little bit of snowy art, in a winter wonderland
My hands and feet were freezing, as I made this masterpiece
But my snowman seems to be no more, he is in fact diseased
I have to face reality, my snowman’s gone away
Maybe he was magic, and he’ll return again someday
I stare out at the winter sun, as the snow melts on my lawn
And I sit and wonder to myself, where has my snowman gone
My daughter`s budgie "Sissie" died a late night
The next morning I told her that "Sissie" was dead
With tears on her eyes and cheeks, she asked her mom
- Is "Sissie" in heaven with God and grandmother ?
- Yes, she is with God, grandmother and the angels
I answer her
Surprised at this answer, my daughter investigate
whether it was true
She walks into the room where the cage with
the budgie used to stand
After a short while, she runs back to mom....
- Mom, mom.... God has not only taken "Sissie"
- God has taken the cage too
This is a true story - - - from gold child`s mouth
dedicated to: Laila A.Mjelde
10.05.2012
A-L Andresen :9
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
I stand and watch inside this prison gate,
Wondering how I got here, was this to be my fate?
I only did what any man would do,
While trying to protect his family from people like you.
All through life I kept my record clean,
I followed the laws I never made a scene.
Then one night I heard a noise in our house,
I went to investigate, thinking it was probably a mouse.
Then I came face to face with a man all dressed in black,
Taking stuff from my house and putting it in his sack.
Almost immediately my blood got hot,
We started to wrestle right on the spot.
He was fighting with all he had and so was I,
He was trying to kill me, but I wasn’t quite ready to die.
I picked up something from the floor and I hit him hard some where on his head,
I hit him maybe a little too hard cause now he’s dead.
They took me to court and charged me with manslaughter in the first degree,
They said he was a victim of circumstances, well what about me?
They said he had lost his job and was only trying to provide for his family,
And that it was okay what he had done to me.
So here I am behind these prison walls for at least ten years,
My wife and children now with no protection, the worst of my fears.
I have no remorse for what I’ve done,
My only regret was I didn’t have a gun.
“That’s just the way you’re wired”
Sure some settings are predetermined out of the box
But most adapt over time to the environment
Growing up we all adjust to the situation to survive
To try to get our needs met and gain connection
In order to not short circuit
Same wiring extends to adulthood if you let it
Easy to justify “that’s just the way I am”
Using childhood strategies to cope with adult issues
Until your wires cross
The system crashes
You no longer wish to operate this way
Time for a diagnostic check up
Begin by analyzing your internal schematics
Must understand mechanics behind your motherboard
Investigate ingrained patterns of behaviors
Be gentle when digging into deep rooted tendencies
The process will be pain staking
But the payoff will be worth it
You may realize it’s not all hard coded
Don’t have to port over old programming
You can override the system
Have the ability to rewrite your code
It’s ok to shed outdated strategies
Create a test environment to establish new connections
Tip toe along with trial and error to see what works
You have agency to decide how to live your life
Compared to only relying on your old “wiring”
Time for an upgrade
The world is waiting for your Version 2.0
"Consistency"
by: Eric L. Boddie
Contemplate, debate hate
Rate state magistrates
Mate great fates
Wait....date late
Deflate straight weight
Emancipate inmate traits
Dissipate irate gates
Indicate! Investigate! Litigate!
Incarcerate? Degradate? Incinerate?
Rejuvenate! Captivate! Demonstrate!
Innovate! Motivate! Fascinate!
Anticipate! Dedicate! Articulate!
Communicate....congratulate....exonerate
Infiltrate....penetrate....interrogate
Implicate! Detonate! Annihilate!
Separate? Segregate? Disintegrate!
How we love this secluded pond
He lowers me to the grass
And on my stomach I watch
Little beetles, blue dragonflies
Transparent wings fluttering
soft humming near my ears
My smiles born broadly in sunlight
His tender hands hold my back
to his chest. And in the shallow
pool numerous tadpoles curiously
investigate my otherwise useless
legs without pity or shame
He smiles words of joy to me
In my ears and to my mouth
Red squirrel clambers
the tree near our temporary
bed where his hands fumble
and his mouth smiles broadly
between my hands, breeze
lifting my curls as wings
on small hummingbirds
From the corners of his eyes
The lazy luce ponders the strange
ways of human tenderness
While he holds me in his
endless loving patience
That doesn't care about ability
Just we, water, sun and together
***
February 6, 2017
As Miss Luby watches from her window
a moving van backs up
the driveway across the street
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
its warning cry has a beacon-like effect
on the neighborhood
arousing interest from all corners
everything suddenly shaken awake
Even the squirrels stop, stock-still
save an occasional flick of the tail
Miss Luby's cat, also
watching from the window
pauses momentarily, paw suspended
before continuing to clean herself
And one by one, the other inhabitants
invent clever ways to investigate
without seeming obviously interested
Miss Luby's next-door neighbor, Fred
flits outside to water the plants
in his front flowerbeds, distractedly
soaking the sidewalk instead
While dotty old Mrs. Pappadopoulos
puffs along, pulling her little Pomeranian
up the street for a “walk”
slyly turning her head, rather owlishly
as she passes by
Silvia, Miss Luby's other next-door neighbor
is still in her housedress and can't go out
so she sends her three beastly little boys out
to play, knowing they will get the inside scoop
and sure enough, within forty-five seconds
they have accidentally-on-purpose
sent a toy airplane across the street
and spend the next half hour retrieving it
following the new neighbors
in and out like so many
playful puppies
Not to be left out
of the hullabaloo, the hoity-toity
housewife from two doors down
high-steps out to size up the new arrivals
over-casually strolling with
her beautifully bundled babies in tow
putting on quite a show
suddenly disappointed
realizing they're just common-folk
not the kind she wanted to know
All the while, the new neighbors
exhausted, amble in and out
of their new home
staggering
under stacks of small pieces
lumbering along
awkwardly lugging larger ones
A teenage boy
silently glides past on a skateboard
giving side-eye to the boring, middle-aged
couple- as he is nearly hit by a car passing by
driver distracted by the moving van
"Morning arrives when the brilliant sun first kisses the earth." Quote Written By Poet
The hot sun burns my fragile skin,
I am turning red like a lobster.
Water is needed for my survival,
but none can be found.
Sand covers the ground in all directions,
how did I get so lost?
I can see bright blue skies for miles,
wait is there a tree over there?
I must be seeing things,
there are no trees in a desert.
It is a tree yes a tree,
I must investigate.
Could this be an oasis before my eyes,
yes an oasis of cold water to drink and to splash in.
Now for some dates from the lovely palms,
food I have not seen in days.
Rested and refreshed I will march on,
back to civilization for my journey must end.
I want to tell you a story,
About a little boy,
Who went up to his bedroom
To get his favourite toy.
But when he opened his bedroom door
And popped inside his head,
He couldn't see him anywhere
And he had left him on his bed.
So he looked inside the wardrobe,
And he looked behind the chair,
He looked on the window sill
But still he wasn't there.
So he started emptying boxes
And pulling out the drawers,
He didn't know what was happening
He had never been gone before.
His mother heard the banging
And all the crashing about.
So she went upstairs to investigate
What the noise is all about.
When she saw him sat there
He had tears in his eye,
She had never seen him so upset
She nearly started to cry.
Between the sobs he told her
That he couldn't find his ted.
That he had come upstairs to get him
So he could go to bed.
She told him it was to early,
That they hadn't had their tea.
Then we can snuggle on the sofa
And watch a little TV.
Then we can go and get your ted,
So you don't have to cry.
You can put him back on your bed,
He will be nice and clean and dry.
Wanted to make this into a picture
Nursery rhyme book.
Edited on 20/4/2021.
It is the glory of God
to conceal a thing:
but the honour of kings
is to search out a matter
Prov. 25:2
I search always
for the invisible things
Hidden things buried deep
in the sands of antiquity
Trained I was in the ways of spiritual investigation,
got taught under the feet of a wise one
Kings of the ghetto are father and son
I'm in search always
of heavenly things
Hidden in plain sight
are these eternal mysteries
Open your eyes
and see precept upon precept
Open your ears
to hear the new version of an old concept
I search always
for the prophetic things
Holy revelations from the future
concerning the fate of humanity
I was taught by God,
borne chastisement under the correcting rod
I learned right from wrong,
how to help the weak
and withstand the strong
I learned how to discern
clean from unclean
And how love
was the purifier of everything
I was blessed with a gift
to investigate tirelessly
I love to search always
for invisible things hidden in the deep
I
The winds were loudly whistling,
Blowing the trees’ leaves all around;
God sneezed and misty rain fell to the ground;
In an instant, blades of green grass began to glisten.
II
The lightening choreographed its self
Throughout the air;
In the far distance, the loud thunder
Was heard clashing;
The heavily burdened clouds had taken in
All they could bare…
Suddenly, giant balls of pelting hail began
Their icy trashing…
III
Curious about the rain caused strife,
The sun peeped to investigate;
Unaware—the Devil was beating his wife,
The sun’s concern was a bit too late.
IV
It’s known, rain is no friend to the desert’s growth;
And that floods care less where they might spread.
Such strange fellows are the both;
Happily sharing the same old bed…
I am careful to not look under the mulberry bush at apartment five.
For that is where my meanest of mean great aunt Ginny Madeline lies.
She was bossy, a real shrew, who was always telling me what to do.
I have told no one else but I have decided to trust three friends and you.
You must realize she has been missing for six days and fifteen hours.
Uncle Fred has not noticed, hiding from her for years in his glass office towers.
The police have not come to investigate, her grandnieces are not looking.
I am rather proud of myself for doing her in so easy with my horrible awful cooking.
Creating a little list now of other people who should probably disappear.
Oh, you do not think that is nice? Well, my pretty, come closer, my little dear.
In case you do not know, I have a murdering side that is terrible and bad.
I imagine there will be hundreds who wish they had never made me mad.
In the wee hours of the morning…from a place where dreams abound
while in the midst of a peaceful slumber I was awakened by a sound.
Realizing I was wide awake…and more sleep would have to wait…
I decided to discover the source of the sound…or, at least, investigate.
As I stepped out my front door I was greeted by an early morning breeze
and when I gazed up at the sky I saw stars twinkling through the trees.
The sound had disappeared in fact there was no sound anywhere…
It was one of those perfect moments where only silence filled the air.
The waning moon was attempting to bring a little brightness to the night
as the shifting clouds did their best to keep the picture black and white.
I stood absorbing the silence…captivated by the moment…mesmerized by the view
trying to savor every moment of the moment before bidding this moment adieu.
I am not a religious man…but even I recognized the sign…
that I was in the midst of something spiritual…
something sacred…
something esoteric…and divine.
Perhaps the creators made the sound to wake me up…to open my eyes
to encourage me to enjoy the birth of Easter morning before they asks the sun to rise.
And that is exactly what I did…I never went back to bed…
No…inspired by the morning I wrote this poem instead…
As a way of wishing you all a happy Easter…
as well as a peaceful and glorious day
Oh…and tomorrow
if the creator makes a sound to wake you up..
I suggest…you humbly obey.
Candles lit, soft music seduces my ears
She takes my hand and shows me the way
I stroll into a cloud with footsteps of ardor
Plans for the evening thrown out the window
She kisses my ear and whispers, "I love you"
My knees weaken at the hint
Her feminine allure too strong to resist
Chemistry, physics, biology all doing their thing
Blood accelerates through racetracks of my veins
Sound disappears save for her voice
Eyes closed, her head tossed back in anticipation
Temperatures escalate as I nuzzle her neck
Steam jaywalks on our bedroom window
Therms of endearment
The moisture on her skin collides with my goose bumps
Hunger and thirst assuaged as lips caress lips
Our hands investigate regions that are only ours to know
My soul disappears as it merges into hers
Eros meets Psyche in her palace of gold
This must be heaven, or a dream, or a dream of heaven
The clouds part and the music returns to soothe my pulse
Afterglow dissolves all aches and thoughts of growing old
We are one