Best Little(A) Poems
If you take my hand and don't let go
There's a side of life I want to show
You've suffered a little, a lot, know
But I also know you have a beautiful smile.
You have a loving family, they look your way
A God that knows just what to say
And I, I promise I'll always stay
Even though I'll be gone awhile.
Your past and shadows may haunt you
I have reason to think they still do
You say it's hopeless, I say it's not true
You just need to remember where to trod.
You know from experience where light will dwell
And when things just are not going well
Bruised and broken after you fell
Rise to your knees and pray to God.
Through thick and thin He'll help you through
When you don't know just what to do
I want the light to follow you
So others may know where to go.
And every day you don't win the fight
When things just are not going right
You have learned to follow the light
And I've watched as you've begun to glow.
If you take my hand and don't let go
There are places of light that I know
We'll go and stay, rise high from so low
With our Father's help, we'll find our way
He loves you so much, and that is why
You learn in struggles; and when you cry
Remember it's strength that lifts you high
From the shadows of yesterday.
May the sun always shine in your heart - melt away winter's ice
Always look for beautiful colors - even if you never find the rainbow
Nobody wants to experience the towering and storm high waves
Adversity makes us strong - like sailing on the sea in storm
Open up your heart - take a deep breath
Dreams you will find among the stars - where peace prevails
Let your thoughts dance between the clouds - without a worry in mind
Bring your paint brush - paint the world in stunning colors
Our world is so endlessly large
A human so little, a love so great
30.12.2013
A-L Andresen :)
If I weren't a poet, what would I be
An artist, a singer, or a designer?
Would I have been something next to a deity?
Oh, I couldn't imagine anything finer!
If I weren't loved, how bitter would I be in the present time
A little, a lot, more than I could ever devise?
Would I long for affection that I predict will never be mine
Or would I think love will take me by surprise?
If I were born earlier, what period would I have occupied
The forties, the fifties, or the sixties?
Would my name have lived on after I died
Or would there be no one alive who'd miss me?
If I weren't me, who would I be
And who would take my place?
Would I have had a different destiny?
I hope to God that wouldn't have been the case
I love the person I am today,
I love the person I am to become
I would not want it any other way
Many lives I could've lived, but thank God He chose this one
Cross-legged he sits upon the ground
Playing a fiddle that makes no sound.
With a broken bow in his frozen grip
No note from his hand will ever slip.
He sits amidst the flowers in bloom-
The air redolent with their sweet perfume,
But he’s immobile indeed throughout the day
And so never sends forth a musical lay.
Yet I swear I heard as I was falling asleep
At the end of a day I had no wish to keep,
When my mind was weary and my thoughts were dim,
I’m sure I heard music coming from him.
He fiddled in notes that were joyful and witty;
Soon I was caught up in his musical ditty.
As the crickets kept time with his light airy tune
The flowers all danced beneath the full moon.
And I, for my part, as I lay in my bed
With his music swirling in my dream covered head,
I danced with the flowers each in their turn
Humming a song I never did learn.
Then after a while he changed what he played
As he eased into a soft serenade,
And the crickets, and flowers, and I myself too,
Found rest in the notes his music spoke through.
And so I dreamt throughout the night
Then greeted the dawn with strange delight,
And the troubles that had gone to bed with me
Now no longer have the same urgency.
If you called me strange I would have to approve,
For I certainly agree that a statue can’t move,
But I noticed this morning down the garden lane
As the sun slowly crept toward my window pane
That the frog and his fiddle, though in the same place,
Has a wry little a smile upon his face,
And with his fiddle resting on his knee-
I do believe he winked at me!
“Corrosion of feelings”, the accusation said. A seal, a signature. I was a bit confused, though, when the judge, a heavyset gentleman with a kind red face, rose from his seat and cuddled me.
- What's your last wish, son? - he asked me sweetly.
No wishes.
- Come on, - he insisted. - Ask the audience, fifty-fifty or call a friend?
The subconscious thirst for feeling things the way normal humans do tries to turn even nothingness into something resembling human, to give weight to weightlessness, to attach sense to nonsense, so it was not surprising that they caught me by surprise when I saw the prosecutor's face contort: he was crying. I can imagine how the executioner will be upset to align me a little – a local euphemism. Poor butcher!
you are so callous -
he'll tell me slightly later
feeling my thin neck
31.08.2019
Ten Word Challenge 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Slow and steady wins the race,
Little by little,a life builds,
Moment by moment,time walks,
Age to age,I'll grow.
Learning a little everyday.
And not spending all my time in play.
And still inside me,this rule shall dwell;
For what is worth doing is worth doing well.
I'll do well,whatever I'm to do.
Slow and steady,I'll learn to know,
The supremacy of knowledge of long ago,
The principality of wisdom of time.
And in days to come,we shall see,
That life will be better for me.
I am a word ,and the word is with me.
Little by little ,a group of memories.
Formed in my mind a solemn moment.
When words in ears are softly spoken.
The word of love that gives me hope.
The hope that keeps me hold ,and bold.
With his words I hold a promise to keep.
That will never be this love will break.
A simple word when in mouth slips.
Like a world celebrates in happiness.
A single thought when once appear.
No words can define the love I feel.
Love now without even explaining.
Live now like this is the ending.
Fly high 'til we reach the sky.
Then fall down like an angel in your arms.
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.
The Jewish brothers in Defiance were definitely tough.
One wanted to kill many Germans, the other to save many Jews.
The German soldiers were expendable, unmarried, unremarkable.
Each little death was very little, a little spittle in a big wind.
Fast forward to my friend's son's bar mitzvah or daughter's
coming of age ceremony. Food is abundant, the music frenetic,
the rabbi paid. Gifts generous but not obvious.
Wealth does not obviate death and we know it.
Here too we have natural leaders. Youth basketball coaches,
school principals and, again, interpreters of prayers. When
violence comes to the neighborhood they are who we'll first look to
for governance and guns. Unless have you read The Admirable
Crichton?
Boredom, boredom conflated with loneliness, may be a sign
of good luck. To live a good length or light year away from man's
bad breath, allergenic perfumes, sickening flatulence and shed hair.
But you are drawn back into the debate about perfection by your own
********.
While teaching at the old city jail I have learned this: only meditation
upon the periodic table can save your soul. From itself.
Imagining the world without the self will make you whole.
What else is there to say. Do less until one thing's done well.
After the war the brothers started a small trucking company
in the Bronx. Grateful for such peace, the accounting
was relaxing. They thought back to how they met their wives, naked
before the bombs and bullets. How they lost and found themselves in
what happened.
Like a blank canvas and nothing to paint
I stare into oblivion with no sign of life
Body a statue, so tense locked tight
A darkness a shadow, will never leave my sight
To someone so little a very trusting existance
On reflection such an intrusion of innocence
Adults speak such lies which look like truth
Freightened, confused, just run and hide
Locked away files, memories stored in the mind
Permanent, cannot be erased, scared for life
Sometimes thoughts stone cold, my heart is dead
To this day fight to feel free, a will to the very end
Form:
To love Physics one just has to care
For the universe heart described there,
Relativity's Laws
Are much like Santa Claus,
Einstein's Tensors just floating on air.
Brian Johnston
August 22, 2014
Poet's Notes:
Just one hundred years ago this poem would have had a different ending...
Newton's Vectors just floating on air.
Post Einstein however things are both simpler and more complicated as physicists
struggle to come up with an equation that describes everything! To help laymen
perhaps just a little, a 'Vector' is a mathematical expression for a force that has a
direction (in three dimensions). A Tensor, though it is hard if not impossible to
imagine except by means of a mathematical expression (a physicist cannot see it in
his mind either) , can be thought of as a multi-dimensional Vector that can occupy
more than three dimensions. Hope that helps! Ha! It seems that God's simplicity is
not that simple for man! Who would have guessed?
Blaring grinding blares thy engine
In mending together humanity’s ails,
Flickering light shines thy mender
In shining some light in humanity’s ails.
Sacrificial lamb in mending thy breaks
In little a price for sweats consumed,
Hearing impairment, a risk to come
In shining some light to humanity’s ails.
Shielding thy eye from blind man's woe
Lest an error to move with sticks,
Shielding thy hands from animal’s woe
In shining some light to humanity’s ails.
On, thy aches from blaring machine
In fixing thy job to earn thy pay,
Mending thy rod, the welder’s task
In shining some light in humanity’s ails.
After our yacht was wrecked by the storm
I was washed up on a tropical island.
My two companions sadly had not made it
I found them both washed up and lifeless.
First priority was to bury the bodies
before they attracted unwanted attention.
With no tools I spotted a shallow cave perfect
putting them inside I covered the entrance with
loose rocks that had slide down the cliffs.
Near by another larger cave would serve as
shelter with a few palm leaves and dry grass.
There was even a hole in the roof that let out
the smoke from my fire made from sticks.
I found a stream near by so thirst no problem
collecting nuts and berries I noticed long frongs
that I wove into traps and placed them in both
the sea and stream. A parrot befriended me so
I had good company. The traps soon worked. Crabs
eels and lobsters caught inside a real feast.
With the flint I had earlier found I scaled
the cliffs and set a signal fire unlike down
on the beach the mosquititoes had a field day.
Yet I noticed they avoided a pungent plant
and rubbed it all over what a blessed relief
They soon left me alone. In time I fashioned
some rustic tools and built a hut near the fire.
Near by I spotted both wild pigs and horses
placing some feed I soon was able to touch
and eventually ride some of them making
both travel and hunting so much easier.
Apart from human company I had it all.
I tilled the ground and planted tubers I had
found, irrigation channels kept them moist.
Scoring a tree I kept vague track of time
as first one year passed then another with
no sightings. At long last I saw a sail and
lit my fire. The yatch headed my way I was
saved. With mixed feeling I left the island.
To return there with all I needed, which was
little, a yatch so I could come and go at
will. A few chickens, a calf, cat and a dog.
Some strong tools to till and sow the land.
Lastly a good fishing rod and a feather matress
here I would wile away my remaining days.
Once upon a time when I was just but a little a boy
My grandmother of illustrious memory – told me many a story
A lot of them funny but some scary
But her favourite tale which I am about to retell
Its effect on me, i suppose should not tell
The one about the young man who refused to marry
Preferring to become an ascetic to the displeasure of his family
For they were inclined to believe – that all those who breathe in air
Surely must leave an heir!
His refusal to marry – pained them all
And many a plan were hatched to sway his mind – but to no avail
Confounded they approached the village sage to explain this mystery
Who cautioned the young man would soon have a case of dysentery
Serious enough to require hospitalization – but one that won’t send him to the cemetery
And as soon as the illness is past, he would surely marry
With this wisdom the family went home rejoicing and merry
Voices high and throaty marveling at this new found posterity
By and by the young man was struck down with dysentery
And no sooner had he recovered he married the village beauty
Much to the amusement of his family who knew all that had happened to the boy
This story my grandmother would recite
Countless times to us little boys long into the night
Toss and turn, turn and toss all night long but our little minds could not fathom
What the young man’s decision to marry had to do with dysentery!
And when I told my fellows at school this story
Don’t know am sure, whether it was under the mulberry or at the refectory
They all agreed that my grandmothers wisdom
Which she had tossed to me sitting at her mahogany was nothing but baloney
When I recounted this to her, she smiled complacently
Aware this curios case of beauty and dysentery I would cherish for eternity.
I Was Walking My Sweetheart By The Bay
Steve L. Siegel
July, 2015
-:-
I was walking my sweetheart by the bay
On a warm sunny day
As we rode a long on this little old roadway
In the merry, merry month of May.
~*~
I kissing my sweetheart by the light of the bay
In little a brown Ford coupe on our way
On a beautiful sun setting low today
We’re on our way to Table Bay.
~*~
My baby’s in my arms the tonight by the bay
A hungin and kissin by an evening-bay
A bomb-fire to keep us warm by the bay
We want to live this a way, every day.
~*~
As the moon rises over the bay
I have my baby in my arms this a way
Till the earth won’t turn anymore our way} Chorus
As I walk my baby over this moonlit bay}…. Chorus
PS I have a Picture that was written for but can not put it on here.