Best Last Out Poems
Baxter was born in a meadow
under a rotting plank
with hundreds of brothers and sisters
in a home both darkly and dank.
His momma was a June Bug
and he was a June Bug too,
schooled in all the sorts of things
that June Bugs love to do.
He grew up fast, it was time to fly
and leave his happy home,
his momma went to the book case
and pulled out a well worn tome.
She read from a chapter called "Hazards"
to each of her children dear,
“Stay clear of birds when you’re flying
or you won't last out the year."
"And one more thing that you should know,
and this you must absorb,
beware of the light in the evening sky
that's called the purple orb."
So he left his home behind him,
went flying all around,
he saw some birds in the tree tops
and headed right for the ground.
After landing in the tall grass
he met a stink bug named Dwight
who told him wonderful stories
of an light so purple and bright.
"Forget now what your mother said,
I'm here to set you straight,
the orb is just a doorway,
you know, it's like a gate."
"When you enter into its brightness
you're magically swept away
to a lovely world of happiness
where forever you can stay."
So Baxter started searching,
he looked both high and low
and if he found the purple orb
straight to it he would go.
But the light was very clever,
it kept its secret well,
but Baxter kept on looking
as if he was under a spell.
Finally on an August eve
just as darkness was appearing
he spotted a distant purple glow
across a meadow's clearing.
"It must be the orb,” he said to himself,
so he flew with all his might
across the meadow with all due speed
toward that beautiful purple light.
Soon he hovered before it
and bathed in its eerie glow,
what wonders lay in store for him
his mind could scarcely know.
Gathering up his courage
into the purple light he sped,
crackle and zap was all he heard
as he fell to the ground near dead.
He lay in a growing pile
of other bugs who'd seen
a purple orb up in the sky,
but it wasn't what it seemed.
So if you meet a stink bug
who goes by the name is Dwight
don't believe the tales he tells
of a beautiful purple light.
Remember what Baxter's momma said,
"and this you must absorb,
beware of the light in the evening sky
that's called the purple orb."
What little breath I have left is being spent
choking on tears that I have held for too long.
But a lid keeps me shut in here
in a glass jar
where she locked me away.
She collects broken dolls
and stores them where
their souls pour out and fill up their containers.
She, who claims her victims, stares down at me
Without her, I may not last out there
where she found me twisted and torn open
and struggling to breathe.
When she finds another broken doll,
She will keep them safe
They will be locked away and sealed inside a jar
and just like me, they will convince themselves that they’re better off
Maybe one day, I’ll find myself laying in
broken glass on the floor.
I’m not sure I understand my boss
He does it all and credits me
He makes the plan, and says I did
He works the plan, and states it’s me
Writes the report, and crowns it mine
My mysterious Boss!
He called me today
And washed me with praise
Shocked, my boss seeks to know
How did you, modest, manage
The tusks of this beast alone?
With husky confidence
He shoots my pay and says
Measure for measure, my valet!
There’s more to come.
My Boss will burn it all
The mid night wick and moil on end
First in, Last out. The office smells his balm
His cologne is everywhere
He sweats on the printer, the copier, and the phone
His ink flows, his paper is busy
The keyboard is worn, the letters have gone
He knows them by heart
ASDFGH and the index at J, he types
His seat sags and his elbow is coarse
The backrest is new, he never rested
His fingerprints are faded
Filing, citing, binding, signing, sending, recalling, working
Reading, doing, redoing, searching, researching, working
Calling, waiting, reminding, mending, thinking, working
Reviewing, checking, approving, panting, working
But he says I did, all he did
Great works, look and marvel!
Now Boss
They want me! Ready to bleed money
And charm me, they are down, bended knee
Abroad, the internationals are hinting
Aboard, the nationals are bidding
And Bored, the locals are winking
They want me! The postman is dizzy
My inbox congested and messengers grumbling
The deeds have spoken
And my boss is depressed
Who shall do it, says he, all the work
His hand is calm, my shoulder feels it
Go my child, my boss, your meteor is bright
And never will it set.
They are on the final stage
Of being in their Nascar cage
Soon they will leave the Daytona sun
And under the lights this car racing contest will be done
After putting up with the rain
It is time to deal with the pit crew game
Check the gas and the glass
Along with the discount tires needed to go fast
Since right on the heels is the Pennzoil shell
Who is trying to make all this gel
Pushing a little harder on the pedal made things go
And Shell Oil was a leader during this east coast happy hour show
As many laps and miles went by
Everybody seemed to be enjoying this sunshine state ride
Kroger might have had a spin and those chocolate candy nuts still wanted to win
It was on lap 184 that discount tires found themselves headed for the exit door
There four wheels lost control in this event
Sending many to the emergency tent.
When returned the laps were showing only ten
Oscar Meyer still was on top to defend
Ketchup and mustard were not needed
Only some grueling time of something called competing
Down the wire the seventy-seven set off such a fire
But nevertheless
It was the fed express
Who got there working overtime
Making sure they were first over the checkered line
But the show was not over since there was one last out of control car schtick
Performed as a Nascar trick.
After finishing the race Oscar Meyer made its case
Let’s flip the bun
To see if there is any ketchup left when the stunt is done.
Up in the air they went
Coming down feeling really spent.
At this hour it is in God’s hands and he is in charge
Of this Nascar star.
But all in all, the Daytona meet stayed with in the law
Sending the circus to Las Vegas where they are here to gamble money
Not the stock car who is there true honey.
Idle Thoughts
In to each life, a little rain must fall.
One thing for certain, it happens to us all!
There’s no escape, it’s just time to pause,
Take two steps backward, it’s a wake-up call!
Don’t take life for granted, pay attention to the signs,
Follow your first thoughts, its’ a matter of time!
Let not others, distract you from your goal,
Put your best foot forward, and maintain self-control!
Take solace in the fact, things come to those who wait,
Often, those who finishes first, are last out the gate!
Success is in your grasp, just a stone throw away,
Patience is a virtue, when you take time out to pray!
Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 11/27/16
They answered the call,
From afar, they came one and all.
Young Lions, they came to give chase,
On the fields of Europe, enemies they faced.
Murderous fire rained down as they came ashore,
Thousands lay down, their lives were no more.
Fields soaked in blood, of both friend and foe,
The young men died as they fought toe to toe.
Streets were covered with rubble and blood,
Places where houses and folk once stood.
Blasted by shells from tank and plane
Many died there, never to rise again.
This hateful time of war with it's tragic waste,
How long will it run this terrible disgrace.
Is war here forever? Are we doomed to fight?
Men & boys in their fear, die, both day & night.
Kill or be killed, you hear them say,
Kill or be killed, just to last out the day.
That boy over there, shooting at you,
Cries for his Mother, just like you do too.
Oh please stop the carnage we see through the dust,
Lay down your arms, say enough is enough
Let quiet descend on the killing ground,
With a tear filled cry let peace be crowned
My Centenary poem for the Fallen in War 1914-2014
© Dave Timperley October 2014
Everyone said we were crazy, our love wouldn’t last out the year,
But we’ve been together a dozen—we fooled them awhile, didn’t we dear?
Our first years were ragged and tough ones, harder by far than the rest,
We had our love and a big stack of bills, but I think those first years were best.
How do you measure your losses, when the love in your life disappears?
Is it in heartaches—or houses—or automobiles?
….When the tears outnumber the years,
When the tears outnumber the years.
Everyone says we are wise now, sensible people at last,
Making the grown-up decision—tearing the page from our past.
But I question my own calculations, did I figure everything right?
Did I total the times with the children? Did I add up each sweet loving night?
How do you measure your losses, when the love in your life disappears?
Is it in in-laws—or court laws—or who keeps the dog?
…When the tears outnumber the years,
When the tears outnumber the years.
My wife, my life, not trouble or strife,
My love, my devotion, she gives me emotion.
My partner, my friend, on her I depend,
My rock, my foundation, I'm hers 'til the end.
God gave her to me at a time on my way,
My life was just darkness, with no light of day.
I must have cried out to Him in my fear,
Without ever knowing that He was so near.
Our life started out with problems galore,
No money or home, our future unsure.
Her life was a mess, her marriage lost,
Her children taken. Oh! What a cost!
On the sea of life, we both felt adrift,
God must have seen us and gave us a lift.
We were each others lifebelt in a stormy sea,
I rescued her and she rescued me.
Life over the years many tears have we seen,
Our home has been happy, sad, and in between.
We have had times of trouble but never of doubt,
That our love for each other would always last out.
Through many years she tried to teach me,
That God's love was there, if I could but see.
I said that if God was so good and devout,
Why did our life seem always washed out?
If He cared, I went on to say,
Why do we struggle, day after day?
I took her to church each time she asked,
I waited outside 'til the service passed.
The years went by and she did not falter,
She prayed for my soul each day at the altar.
I never knew this, or just didn't see,
That Jesus was there and working on me.
She never gave up and neither did He,
They're a dynamic team, they rescued me.
My life I gave to Jesus one grey New Years morn,
All Heaven cried out, a new child is born!
Since then we have lived as best we could,
Alife to please God, as Jesus would.
Life is good, getting better each day,
As we live out our lives the Jesus way.
© Dave Timperley, October 2011
And now we strangers
Greet like the indifferent
As if the memory eclipsed
To create less than mediocre.
No cheek, no grin
No glimmer of familiar
Only our wall of remorse
Building our division.
Before the distortion
Engulfed our direction
Did we not see a friendship
To last out the years?
But our story concluded
And by my part a regret
Though not of the past
But of futures not encountered
Such inanity seeking a deity's benevolence
when the world is spinning out of control,
pleading for magical, divine intervention
to shield me safely from the storm.
Too often holding back, You self-absorbed One!
your oft repeated promise no answer to my fears;
worthless grace withheld from least favored men
yet abundantly showered on a few favorite ones.
Times when your comforting presence is needed
is when You stay away, nonchalantly forsaking,
responding to humanity's helpless plea, if at all,
on tyrant's whim than true providential mercy.
Finally I learn at last out in this long, lonely road
to shape destiny's hand solely through my power,
neither asking nor begging for hyped up generosity
that more often than not is just 'hit or miss' anyway!
Heres a man trying to bridge, a route to sanity along a ridge'
He's being hit.' with the same old twaddle'
As his so called betters loudly squabble'
I recall a board and stick' used 2020; they must think think us thick?
That with much mod tech, and breifing easy to do)
Thise ww2 methods, we would not see through?
It shows indeed utter contempt; of humans from the 50s'
The sacrifice, that they were first targeting shiftily'
It was gain the grandparents.' pull the younger in.'
One life lost was one to many, 'yet when the nhs needs some tin?
Lives are ten a penny ' they'll take the strikes and try to trash
As today the truth runs rampant throughought the land
Its aversaries have really now lost, the countrys trust.
Then some with spine stand; on the settling dust.'
Mr Bridgnd is Just one of many ' such people would incline to heal '
But all the liars; just aren't ready to' apologise, of genocides steal'
In the (long dead narrative) they, still strive to hide.'
I doubt that many, 'will' last out this ride.?
Reminders of looking back the other way
Impossible to recall 'just' the way we were
Took the road few travel, wiser for it today
And yesterday, took a road to travel away
From here, the angels tears and the silver fir,
Now the Pacific rim sat motionless, dull and silent
No longer quaking, but aware our departure
We found beauty there, but never relent
To find it here, as the molten magma is sent
To engulf in flames those who didn't capture
Magnificence of nature quite as concisely as he,
But trust me, went down that other road too
We find it full of bears, demons, the crocodile be
A terrifying thing, tearing and shredding what we
Dream of at night, under the stars, down to two
The two of us at last out here in the Shires
So much more mellow of a meadow, and a fir
Or two to rest under still, contemplate desires
That still beat in our hearts, perhaps us liars
Find peace, in the end, just me and her.
We took the road...
-Frost Inspired ;)
I should not have looked.
Can you imagine the courage it took?
I knew you had been acting strange.
Something between us had somehow changed.
You used to kiss me on the cheek.
While I undressed you took a peek.
Now you are late home from work.
To bed last, out of the door first.
I did not meen to peek.
I was never one to sneak.
Gathering washing I felt a package.
In the inside pocket of your work jacket.
Sure enough I could not resist.
I must not let nagging thoughts persist.
A charming bracelet with a loving note.
"My love, my sweet, my little dote."
Perhaps I should not have looked.
Still he must be brought to book.
He took a vow with me to stay.
Adios, goodbye, be on your way!
I remembered being on a bus with my dad today
Passing an old decrepit man out jogging and I began to giggle
To which my father retorted laugh away
At least he is competing whereas you are merely commentating
Glued to the bench last out the trench
The harvest moon rises
The veins on it reflect different phantomlike spiritual ages
Of different spiritual classes auras
Each vein with supernatural power blazes
The evolution from point of view of the last out of soul
Environment being idea of baseless evolution also from point of view of that soul
The out of spirit evolution all connected and by that invented higher on the lower classes will fall
The processes increase and change until they fill abyss whole
On the other side imagination without base
With only non spiritual idea of not needing base imagination as reference looks through space
The non spiritual but concept of pure meaning finds its place
But unlike the spiritual evolution it does not need to start a race
Because from simples reference to evolution of spirit point of view mentioned above
The meaning of not needing base imagination is equal like wings of the dove
And from all points of view higher then spiritual evolution it is equal to the simplest view of
Because it is ultimate spectrum found only in the eyes of greatest love