Best Keep It Up Poems
I will always fight,
on the right side of good.
Against those who bring hate,
like everyone should.
I welcome your trolls,
I will show them their place.
And if we should meet,
I'll present to their face.
Silence is golden,
no hate will be found.
But keep it up my arrogant little friend,
and I'll release the hounds.
If you are bothered by trolls,
just bring them to me.
We'll make light of their ways,
and let truth set them free.
I sat quietly and waited, making the noises he had come to know, calling him in his newly given name. His face would appear, cautiously calculating my intent, he would approach. The promise of food and gentle touch too much to deny. And so we did the “Little Prince’s” taming dance, each aware of the other and the possibility of betrayal.
cold eyes, empty heart
frost forming on life’s edges
winter’s numbing kiss
Our meetings continued, less cautious greetings, more welcome contact, minimal conversation. His coat was becoming more ragged in spite of attempts to keep it up, his gait slowing as our good-byes became short walks together. He could not leave his place, his home, even though it had left him – alone, to fend for himself.
hoarfrost in retreat
sunrise gently awakens
friendships warming blood
He withdrew – I would wait, quietly, whisper the name he had come to know, make the sounds that signaled “all clear”. I searched for him, stood silent and listened for his weakening call, shed tears in the cold rain of November. His last call, a feeble attempt at good-bye, led me to him. Alone, cold, hungry, he lay there, rolled his eyes as I cradled his cold and fading spirit. He shivered – and left.
winter’s cold cradle
ice encasing a friendship
a thawing of hearts
10/20/2015
submitted to – Creative Haibuns – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
I send out this
work
to all of you
out
there
in
the shadows
A light will come
to you
if you want it to
The great teachers and masters
of the past
were not deceived
by this mortal
coil
They knew we
could over come
it
if - and only if
we were diligent
in our efforts
The years have come and gone
Do you not see
what is meant by happiness?
Do you see
that sending out poetry
is a magnificent thing?
Keep it up!
The years weigh heavily on
all of us
But if we persist
joy will come
to us all!
Hello to you my old friend
forgive me for I haven't visited
I was busy with life,
and the bills kept coming.
Time flew by... I just don't know
All alone now, brother
you're sister is fine,
she married and has a son coming soon,
due in May
a Taurus just like you,
congrats Uncle...
I remember what you said that one time,
you remember(God, do you remember) when
we ran down the overpass and that semi almost
killed you, good times.
And we smoked those old Marlboros
and read Bukowski,
God, those were good times...
So, how are you doing?
Fine?
Good?
Oh-don't want to talk about it-I understand...
I saw Rebecca
that girl at the bookstore,
she's doing well,
feeling her old self
She asked about you,
but I couldn't tell her
She would be devastated
I saw Jane too,
Sweet Jane, oh,
she rolled her eyes when I mentioned your name
and then I told her,
and she started to cry
those eyes don't roll anymore
I saw Clare, Donna, Diane, Lola, Layla, Paula,
and even those twins from Amsterdam
and they all blushed when I told them about you,
and now they can't wait to hear from you
You know those paintings you painted ten years back,
they sold for millions,
they put them in a museum,
your name is all over those white walls, reflecting off the marble floors
and those pale blue eyed girls
you used to talk to, stand their
with arms crossed and stare in awh
God- you came a long way my friend
brother- keep it up brother- you deserve it.
I planted that oak tree in the backyard
and its growing well, strong just like you.
No problem
No problem
Morning coffee, read the paper, brush your teeth and make the bed
Start the car up, drive to work with endless chatter in your head.
Rhythm’s just a decoy, really, structure faked for social poise
Must pretend, must feign an interest. Wouldn’t want to lose the toys.
Just ignore the yearning, silly, only fools have dreams these days.
Shoulder to the grindstone, Buster, don’t you know what really pays?
Over obligate yourself then hurry to the next event.
Don’t take time for introspection, musings never paid the rent.
Reinforcing concrete walls with rebar to protect from storms.
Cyclones of emotion dashed to bits before reaction forms.
Hold her steady, make the grade, ignore distractions, toe the line
Numbness is a good sign, keep it up and soon you’ll be just fine.
Can’t afford admission to tonight’s seductive shadow play.
Vulnerability and nakedness too high a price to pay.
Courage is for sissies, only children should be reckoned tears.
Safest bet’s to keep pretending that you’ve conquered all your fears.
Today is the day of a big fall festival, about twenty miles from here. I have been juried in, and have purchased all the equipment, set up a white tent, and put out my paintings, a few hours ahead, and stayed around for days of waiting. It took a lot of energy, and time, and I did not enjoy it, which is why I only did it twice. Two different shows, both the same year, about four years ago. I sold about eighty-five paintings, and they did not come anywhere near covering the cost of the tent, display pieces, and they did not give me back one ounce of time that I lost. I considered almost every second of tent time “lost time”, unless someone loved my work, which happened only three times in five days of waiting.
This art gig is therapy for me, pure and simple. The best part is, that it keeps me out of stores, buying new stuff – a bunch of junk I get tired of in two or three days, shiny things that will be dumped into a bonfire when I do not use them any longer. I lie. The best part of painting is the pleasure that it gives me. It is the most relaxing hobby I have ever gifted myself. I have mediated, and painting is like that only better, because I get to add color and glitter, and I love seeing my creativity unfold in surprising ways. Since I already own a couple of hundred canvases and the paints, and I just ordered a hundred and fifty new brushes, I might as well do this cheap hobby that I love, right?
I am not tempted to go to the fall festival. I feel the vendor’s pain, but I always try to buy something from each one, so I will not hurt their feelings, and if I keep it up, I will be working until I am ninety.
Out in small town Texas, a handshake is a deal.
Folks go to church on Sunday, say grace at every meal.
Men open doors for ladies, kids say sir and ma'am.
Boys can't wait to join the Corps, and serve their Uncle Sam.
But if you were to go there, come autumn Friday nights
the place might be deserted, when the whole darn town unites,
upon a spread of hallowed ground, a grassy green expanse,
to celebrate their civic pride and watch the six man dance.
Now this dance is not for sissies, and I think you would agree
if you knew a bit about a man by the name of Jack Pardee.
Yep, they call it six man football, and they don’t get much acclaim.
They don't play for scholarships, but for the glory of the game.
Three up front and three in back, any lad can be the man
to pass or catch or run the ball, and kick it if he can.
A first down costs you fifteen yards; a field goal gets you four.
You’ll hardly wait two minutes there before another score.
Because for those without some speed, this game is not contrived,
and if one team can't keep it up, they might get forty-fived.
That's what they call the mercy rule, 'cause scoring is so fast.
No point in running up the tab when one team is outclassed.
So if you want a taste of life the way it used to be,
where folks can trust each other and kids can still run free,
and there’s a game where little fellers surely stand a chance,
drive out to small town Texas, and watch the six man dance.
© December 9, 2012
Hank was a hard workin' cowpoke who really earned his meager pay.
He rode his ass Old Red from early dawn 'til at night he hit the hay,
Fixin' fences, ropin' steers and brandin' dogies in the old corral,
But he had an odd addiction that gnawed on his pard's morale!
He was a happy yodler which is alright fer a wrangler I suppose,
But his irritatin' warblin' caused him to nearly come to blows!
At night in the bunkhouse he would even yodel in his sleep,
Addin' to the din of his pals who were known fer snorin' deep!
His yodelin' caused cattle to stampede and hosses to buck and neigh.
Caused chickens to cease layin' aigs and cantankerous mules to bray!
Porkers squealed in their sty and the hounds barked and howled,
His comrades raged and cussed and the cats all hissed and yowled!
Even rattlesnakes were flustered and slithered to hide in dens,
And bands of coyotes skulked to seek cover in the nearby fens.
Frenzied birds vacated their cozy nests and fled to distant climes,
And Cookie got upset since the guys couldn't hear his supper chimes!
The grizzled old ranch boss called Hank aside fer a serious session,
Sayin', "Son, you're creatin' havoc 'round hyar with yer damn obsession!
Take yer ass and yodler to swoon the gals at the Dry Gulch Saloon,
'Cause if'n you keep it up 'round hyar, you'll hit the road and soon!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Knocked up knocked down
Beat up and pushed around
Things ain’t gonna be, gonna be
The way they used to be
Because I got an equalizer
I’ll knock you in the head
I got a tranquilizer that’ll put you
Straight to bed
So daddy don’t
Daddy do
Daddy don’t you do the things
You use to do
Knocked up knocked down
Beat up and pushed around
Things ain’t gonna be, gonna be
The way they used to be
You can kiss my ass
And the trailer good bye
Mama said you was less that
Trailer trash
So daddy don’t
Daddy do
Daddy don’t you do the things
You use to do
Sheriff come round and says
Your bound to die if you keep it up
So save yourself and don’t come around
What is done is done
But I swear if I see you again
It will be at the end of pointed gun
So daddy don’t
Daddy do
Daddy don’t you do the things
You use to do
Much to do
Yes it's true
Sit in chair
Look and stare.
Illness strain
Constant drain
What a mess
Hornet nest.
Clutter here
Clutter there.
Just start small
I won't fall
Choose one thing
It won't sting
Do it quick
That's the trick.
Stay on task
Make it last.
Hydrate too
Good it's true.
On all day
Music play.
Pick up house
Vacuum couch
Remove the trash
Do it fast.
Clean the loo
Lots to do.
Do some wash
Be the boss.
Organize
It is wise.
Simplify
Give a try.
Get it done
Make it fun.
Give away
Take today.
When not use
Time to lose.
Pack-rat style
Looking vile.
Remove dust
Mold and must.
Freshen air
Sweep all stair.
I will see
Will feel free.
Rooms get neat
Doldrums beat.
Attitude
Changes mood.
Do not quit
Or even sit.
Do not shirk
Pride in work
Till all done
I"ll have won.
If I heed
All I need.
Keep it nice
Don't think twice.
Do it now
Then take bow.
Give myself
All the help.
Take my time
Do not whine.
No more mess
Do my best.
Look around
No dark cloud
Darkness gone
Didn't take long
Cleared the mess
Removed stress.
Keep it up
Won't erupt.
Peace and joy
Stop annoy.
Time to rest
Done my best.
It's now home
No more alone.
Being clean
No longer dream.
Little a day
Make it stay.
Easy, see?
Just for me
Routine set
Don't forget.
Set aside
Please abide.
Tips today
Clean will stay.
Show my son
It can be done.
He will do
His own too.
We're a team
Got to clean.
Need to share
Make it fair.
Time is now
This is how.
Soon I'll see
More from me.
Fight thru pain
Much to gain.
No more run
Must get done.
Have my plan
Time to stand.
Lead the way
Start today.
LOVE FOREVER FADES AWAY!!!! wrote by Mrs.Madhavi
Waving like the sea,
Your decision was bias.
You ought to give me wedding ring,
But set my dreams on fire.
Can you answer me for the single reason, what made you do this?
Was it the beauty? Was it the caste, or the complexion?
You said I am your love at first sight.
You were the one who took the initiative and intended to keep it up.
You were the one who delightedly filled my heart with zeal of love.
You were the one who elegantly filled the warmth of love in my soul.
Confronted with an unsolvable dilemma’s where there is no right answer, we always know the answer to everything.
But what you did? You just made false promises.
Still you define it as the love, true love?
Or the love that vanished with no reason.
Answer me, answer me, my thee??
Near the bandra reclamation,
Sitting at the amusement park,
You were the one who excitedly expressed your thirsty feelings.
You were the one who stared at me without closing your eyes for a single second.
But you were the one who set my dreams on fire.
You said you will ask your parent’s for lifetime commitment?
But I will ask you one thing, if you feel your parents will understand and decide your love, then why you fell in love?
If you know that story wont line up with an happy ending, then what made you do this?
It’s just the pain you mounted on my heart. You just broke my heart.
When you blamed, that it’s the caste, it hurted me like hell.
Answer me my love, what made you do this?
I was happy being single.
Then, why you disturbed my life with no reason?
Then, why I got so much acquainted with you for all season?
It’s was so easy, that you picked up different slices of life but why Castism you did my almighty?
In the bruising darkness just left with ashes of memories, lying my face down in ignorance.
You broke my trust for all the life time in my way.
But still you left the happy prints, as a hope of ray.
It’s because of you, Love forever fades away.
But still left with the mementoes of yours, reminded me every day!!
Women who drink and sex
It was in Livorno and it was a cold January night when I met her
in a bar- where else does one meet women, in the salvation army?
What she was doing in Livorno beats me as she was an American
woman far from home, I was there waiting for my ship to come in.
We were both drinkers and felt empathy for one another and when
the bar closed she came to my hotel. In the morning, I had a shower,
she was still asleep woke and asked what I was doing in her room
I told her it was my hotel room she cried; worked for the consulate.
We had breakfast, but she needed a drink to feel normal. Saw her go
into a taxi looking like an efficient functionary going to work, I knew
she could not keep it up the day of estimation was near, she left
a hundred dollar bill on my pillow I was both offended and pleased,
being a low paid seaman, my silence would be absolute. If she wrote
a book about this encounter I will somehow get the blame hinting
darkly she had been abused by me. But this is not true what the lady
long for is not being able to make love with abandonment and blame
it on the booze.
A fuzzy butt, Big buck teeth, enormous ears, and floppy clown feet.
You eat my garden. Your such a pest.
You ate my peas, squash, and more.
I seen these little thieves from my own front door.
You hoop around the tree and the bush.
Your lucky your cute. You silly looking critter.
Don't look at me with those beety little eyes.
If you keep it up, I'll give you a surprise.
when the booze gets to me and nobody will care,
because of my beard or stink or hair,
I curl up under the cardboard and fly away,
to a place high up in the air
my brown hands part the partial, tipsy clouds,
hanging together like freshly laundered shrouds,
or like cops in a bar in a good part of town
I just fly man; fly in my titanium, uranium, cranium suit,
all cherry blossom soft linen, cute:
but I don’t know if I can keep it up, this cerebral act,
this fornication, supplication, altercation with the brew;
I really just don’t know; it’s kind of simple like a dimple, or
maybe a stubborn pimple, that’s never, going away; see,
I really just don’t know the time of day, or what to say,
or which crazy, hazy, game to play
and folks around just curse at me; they only see the walking
wreck, the speck, what the heck, not the man who used to be
a father, brother, son and lover;
no its all changed now, not for the better, never get a meal
with fetter; it’s crisps or pizza, scraps or pie, sometimes they
just spit in my eye;
yes I know it’s a severe admission, faulty cognition, its spiral
crashing aircraft position; but it’s like that here, where I’m at,
in the medication, obfuscation, strangulation cardboard city stay
So next time you see me and you look away all sly, unwilling to
look me, straight in the eye, remember, remember, with your
embarrassing sigh;
your’e looking at Simeon, Ranger of the Sky
To run your car you'd better have big bucks
For these days the price of gas really sucks
You have to have it to get from A to B
And there is no relief ahead that I can see
Sometimes In desperation I ride my bike
Wearing my helmet like a good little tyke
Works okay riding around our small town
But often makes irritated motorists frown
My neighbor's car runs on natural gas
Few stations though-I think I'll have to pass
I guess I'll just keep it up long as I'm able
OMG..what if I have to choose gas or cable?