Best Manned Poems
A quote from "90 North" by Randall Jarrell:
"I see at last that all the knowledge
I wrung from darkness -- that the darkness flung me --
is worthless as ignorance: nothing comes from nothing,
The darkness from the darkness. Pain comes from the darkness.
And we call it wisdom. It is pain."
The first bike I ever owned --
when I was ten or eleven --
was a Christmas gift
from a friend. He was receiving a new one
and I was gifted with his old bike.
He had cleaned it up and brush painted it
with a nice coat of red paint.
It was the only gift I got that year,
one of my only gifts as a child.
I loved that bike:
it freed me to pedal around so
I could accompany my friend
as we rode anywhere in our tiny,
sandy, two-paved-road fishing town.
Before the bike, I ran alongside him.
I was quite accustomed to running everywhere,
especially in summer, barefoot, usually shirtless.
Most years from first grade
until we were about twelve,
we spent our time together,
at his house or in imaginary jungles
or on wild, indian-infested wagon train trails.
We defended those trails from apaches
intent on taking our scalps.
Sometimes, on pirate ships, we manned canons
or forced reluctant traitors and mutineers
to walk the plank for failures and misdeeds.
We were never bored, usually outdoors.
On jungle safaris we were frequently attacked
by ferocious lions and tigers and
often captured by cannibal head-hunters
who put us into large pots to cook us
while dancing all around and brandishing
their spears. They sang or chanted
amazing, invented language repetitive
verses overloaded with frequent "ughs'
and tongue-twisting nonsense phrases.
His mother served us gallons of Kool Aid,
gave us snacks we ate with relish.
With a child’s trusting nature,
I hoped this could never end –
I felt secure in friendship and
apparent acceptance by
my friend’s parents. Of course,
things did change.
But..........I did not.
Not for a long, long time.
Was it real or in a dream
Wizards and kings, chocolate ice cream
Dinosaurs roamed from early morn
Flying zebras and a unicorn
Dancing in the sky from star to star
Travel the universe in a flying car
Make believe ship manned by pirates and thieves
And a tree that was covered with spearmint leaves
No one cared about silver or gold
We were children again who would never grow old
There was a horse in the field talking to a mule
My cat said horses can't talk, don't be a fool
I told my cat that the prince once was a frog
A firefly whispered your cat once was a dog
The earth began rumbling but I took it in stride
I just jumped on my rug for a magic carpet ride
I stopped on a mountain when I reached the peak
A polar bear asked me whom do you seek
I reached for the bear and he began to smoke
Then a penguin stopped by and told me a joke
I flew back to earth when I heard a bell toll
As fate would have it, I ran into a troll
He huffed and he puffed and smiled and said
Come have a conversation with my talking head
The head was a monster but I wasn't afraid
He said I'm getting a body as soon as I get paid
Then I walked down a road that was red and yellow
I noticed the shrubs were made of strawberry jello
Suddenly a space ship landed from out of the sky
In a field that was filled with banana cream pie
This may be hard to believe but i swear that it's true
As sure as my skin is green and my hair is blue.
I really have outdone myself this time!
My ‘God Machine’ is finally in place!
I’ll never have to fret about a rhyme,
Or stop for a red light that changed from green
As if it sought to put me in my place
A random hiccup clearly quite obscene.
I really am quite clever I must say
My ‘subtle knife’ (1) allowing me to splice
My ‘God Machine’ into time’s tawdry day
The true God left completely unaware
That He is now controlled by my device
And just another victim of malware.
It seems there’s quite a lot that ‘God’ screwed up
That I intend to change now I’m in charge
I think that its bad form to cover-up!
So what’s the deal with dying anyway?
Let no one die will be my countercharge
And life is just a breeze on my freeway!
All pain mere nuisance, manna heaven sent
And sin gives you enormous facial zits
While love and kindness clear up all your rent.
Though talents differ, jealousies dissolve
As differences bring none real benefits
And non-destructive social moves evolve.
All birth defects, parental wealth passé
Genetic weakness gone with dodo bird
No accident of birth gives worth per se
Sins of the parent cannot taint the child
That God might favor one is just absurd
The color of one’s skin no more reviled.
But now I find my plans have gone awry
My God Machine decided I’m a flaw
It seems that I’m outdated samurai
Humanity endangering MY plan
Just plankton in the future’s yawning maw
Machine judged only advocate for man! (2)
Brian Johnston
November 5, 2014
Poet's Notes:
(1) subtle knife - A reference to a magical knife that can open windows in time in one of the 3 books in the Phillip Pullman trilogy 'His Dark Materials' including The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass.
(2) My poetic version of the lesson of the book and movie 2001 (written by Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke) where HAL, a computer so smart that it becomes sentient, decides that that only way to really protect a manned mission of a spaceship to the planet Jupiter is to kill all the humans on board the spaceship. The crew's humanity HAL decides is just too big a risk to the mission that HAL is charged (by its human programmers) to protect.
Black Powder Dreams
Vast o’ the seas carry forth desperations
Lives cast aside in the faces of war
Rotted wood planks, salted skin aspirations
Wind tattered sails bound of endless explore
Black powder dreams aft the end quarter season
Cannons at wait, closer still to the bow
Manned by the weak, none in need of a reason
Chilled to the bone, never wondering how
Darkened the depths beckon angry waves crashing
Bound to the rail by a pitch and a shove
Visions of loves and the homeland a’ flashing
Prayers slowly drowned before floating above
Scar rippled flesh, leathered treachery flailing
Shrieks in the night causing laughter below
Tethered by fear o’er the desolate wailing
Shadows await harbors safe to bestow
Compass point dangers adrift in the distance
Forced to push on to the end of the fall
Death shrouds belief in a fractured resistance
Down on their knees longing nothing at all
Endless the journey for pittance bled wages
Deaf to the thoughts found alone in the screams
Forever lost in the unopened pages
At the expense of their black powder dreams
11/7/18
Written for the: Black Powder Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen
It was time to visit the stars
To embrace them with my senses
Though the price was astronomic
I saved up for the expenses
Most think stars are unreachable
Due to the heat that they emit
But perhaps they’re very cautious
Just like a candle barely lit
To my delight way out in space
I manned microphones to listen
And those astral bodies obliged
With unheard of stellar hissin’
Yet as I approached a star’s sphere
After flying the cosmic trades
The brightness was so intense, that
I had to double up my shades
And I can describe what I saw:
Just imagine a sunrise view
As seen, not through a broad window
But rather in the room with you
So no doubt that shine would lead one
To coming to the conclusion
That stars are inhospitable
But my suit was safe for fusion
I attempted smelling their scent
But was honestly not impressed
As the smell was like burnt popcorn
Which is an odor I detest
I couldn’t say that star was burnt
For that flawed logic is misplaced
Yet that stench made me hesitate
To give a roasted star a taste
Sure it twinkles in the dark sky
Like a sugary cosmic treat
But just like mentioning candy
It would probably wreck my teeth
Lastly, touching a star is like
A swimming pool in the hot sun
With those spots of warmer water
Times a million degrees, plus one
Visiting the cosmos was worth
Having stars arouse my senses
Yet it isn’t for everyone
And comes with some consequences
But don’t you take my word for it
When you are traveling in space
Since stars are an acquired love
To be approached at your own pace
Fred The Hawk and his wife were most frightening to behold.
No one got away from them; they were in a class so very bold.
They had Fred Junior, most frightening, first time he was around.
But he was something quite unique, it was soon abruptly found.
With one hundred fifty birds to choose, he couldn’t snag even one.
The Ballad of Fred Junior, was soon sung by each and everyone.
His Mom and Dad worked daily to bring him up to his best speed.
But even they had to eventually, concede to their ultimate defeat.
Junior wasn’t like his Papa, and not like his Mama, regretfully, too.
So they eventually left him at our bird feeder, and waved a fond adieu.
Sink or swim little fellow, would become his motto, in the terrible end.
For after missing everything, he saw a nasty squirrel, chattering at him.
By now he was getting very hungry, and a tasty birdie would be nice.
But he set sail, and grabbed that squirrel, and man was there was a fight.
Unfortunately, Fred Junior was finally both: out manned, and out clawed.
Later he was found, soaking his bum, in the birdbath, feeling flawed.
True, he was not like his mama or his papa too, in what he could do.
But he was someone very special, I will say, most assuredly, as I tell you!
For there in my wood pile, he spied a little mouse, and with one pounce…
He had his dinner at last! He became a great mouser… imagine that…
The moral to my story is: We can’t always be…what we want to be…
And you may not find it, on the very first try. But YOU each must…
Find the special someone that… only YOU can be.
He had a few drinks the night before,
enough to mistake the waiter for a door.
T'would help him remember
he thought to himself,
the fun to be had in the coming of day.
He'd married a Madame
with her perfumes and pearls,
a painted smile
as he watched her walk
with first one foot
and then the next,
stepping in time to his funeral march.
They'd promised forever in those very same rooms,
with their sad yellow curtains and broken blooms.
This could have been a wedding
there were vows to make-
I, Harold, un-take June as my wife,
for better, not worse,
for richer not poorer.
With his eyes on her profile
he thought to himself
that she'd never looked more radiant
than she did today.
A few odd words and then it was done,
all i's were dotted
and the t's crossed
to pronounce them completely
un-manned and de-wifed.
“Fancy some lunch at The Ritz, my love?"
“Alright then, darling. You drive.”
'Twas a dark and stormy night on that dark and stormy night!
HMS Blunderbuss plied the billowing seas just off the Isle of Wight!
Able Seaman Steer manned the helm when dead ahead he saw the light!
He woke the snoozing Officer of the Deck to apprise him of their plight!
Captain Ironbottom (who happened to be in the 'head') was duly alerted!
He dashed to the bridge in his drawers to ensure that disaster was averted!
"By jove!" he cried, "Her Majesty's ships turn aside for no one, I say!"
He grabbed the radio, "Ahoy there! Turn east 15 degrees! Out of my way!"
From out of the ozone a voice retorted, "Suggest you turn west 15 degrees!
I'll not change course for anyone, so heed my warning if you please!"
"This is Captain Ironbottom of the HMS Blunderbuss!" he thundered back!
"I know the rules of the road! Turn now or I'll see you hung from the rack!"
Able Seaman Steers' eyes grew as large as saucers knowing not what to do!
Communication between the captain and the mysterious light was turning blue!
As the distance narrowed between them, neither would give a nautical mile!
The white-knuckled Officer of the Deck was turning pale with a sickly smile!
"This is Captain Ironbottom again! Are you challenging Her Majesty's might?"
"Yes sir" was the reply, "You see, this is the light house on the Isle of Wight!"
Today the mighty HMS Blunderbuss rusts upon the Isle of Wight's rocky shoal.
Captain Ironbottom faded into oblivion due to the folly of his last patrol!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Splatter painted, Pollock blessed, leggy I stand,
among the green grass and healing Plantain
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
A walking canvas in the meadowland
stems, humorously stippled to entertain
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand.
Blush brushed by daylight, a cheeky garland;
a stand bloomed within thin skinned constraints
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
Pistils between petals unknown unplanned,
joyous the sound of honey bees restrained,
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand.
A plantigrade intrusion, a new brand
surface mounted digits adorned prearranged
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
So bright the upright parts, so very grand
one can but dream the crown gloriously manned
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
Mused: Bella online Literary Review Winter 2015
I envy the dust, the way it moves all free and careless,
released from it’s sleeping state the thunderous pounds
of late shelling, again endless.
Muffled shouting, through this trench confounding,
Mustard attack, gas mask aside, fingers in fumbling fight
bitter cold night in a field.
No fireside, food to bite
cigarettes to smoke and mates to joke.
last one gone two days ago up one minute then vanished in a puff of smoke.
this place is beyond reality, it’s beyond insanity
fighting for earth no mother walked nor father built.
If they want to fight then bring it to my hills, not this flat wasteland of mud, blood, bones and chills.
We were thrown into this bloody war,
and we wont have our say, like we've never had before.
Taken to the slaughter history will say,
throwing ourselves forward like tidal-waves.
Waves on waves of sacrificial lunacy again and again.
we've taken little ground and this other trench looks bad, worse than ours
doesn't looked heavily manned looks like we lost more man.
What do we gain now? apart from more time in thought.
those withered layers of rotting feverish flesh, one part is fresh
the other pure dread.
captain is shouting, up on my legs
what’s going on...conscious or dead?
Tobruk Siege
Rommel of the Blitzkrieg
had Europe overcome
With the Stukas and dive bombing
And the Tanks that overrun
North Africka would see his tanks
il Duce’s troops were beat
Aussies took 20,000 Italians
At Tobruk in stinking heat
In Europe when his tanks arrived
The captured did surrender
The Poms escaped at Dunkirk
The English well remember
Morsehead an Aussie General
He baited the trap
Strategic mines, artillery, cooks
manned Italian guns , and ack ack.
Tobruk the Panzer tanks came in
The rats went down their holes (Desert Rats Aussie Diggers said Lord Haw Haw)
They rose behind the tanks
Wehrmact soldiers bullet holed
25 pounders fired at just point blank
with cooks and Pommy Armour
Were thinning German ranks
true blue these little charmers
So they blew the turrets off
16 of the best
Unbeaten until this point
A trace of fallen crest
8 long months they dished it out
Though Rommel tried again ……….(lost just as many tanks again)
He had to wait till the Aussies left
To take Tobruk from them
Don Johnson
70 years ago, the Afrika Korp would attack the 14,000 Aussies and Tommy Tank men, Also known as Rats.
The Tanks rolled into the perimeter, Aussies sprang from their holes and fought the German Soldiers behind the tanks, “We shut the gate behind them” the Aussies said.
This thorn in the side in Rommel ‘s mind allowed time for the massive replacement of
armour destroyed by Rommel, with American tanks. The siege held for 240 days in
what is now today’s , Gaddafi’s Lybria. These Aussies were used to living rough
sleeping on the ground
walking from town to town in the great depression, they were brought up on roo or pig shooting and the occasional rabbit.
The clock was ticking and the countdown had begun, the moment had now arrived when myself and six other astronauts would blast off from Cape Kennedy.
We were going out to deep infinite space on the first manned mission to Mars, that would take six months to complete with the hope of colonizing the red planet for the eternal good of all mankind.
I couldnt help but think that we the human race had not done a good job so far of looking after our own planet earth with pollution, terrorism and wars and still people on earth did not have shelter or enough food to eat.
My thoughts came back to the present as a voice from mission control
came over the radio, "54321 ignition, we have lift off, we are go" .
The time had now come to leave the past behind and to create history.
Written 4th July 2020
For Time - 8 Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored By A Dear Heart.
There is an island
In the Pacific ocean
Surrounded by blues
In various motions
The blue of the water
Reflects from the sky
Turquoise and dark
Either makes me sigh
With mountains of lush green
In sloping canvas
Varieties aplenty
Trees and grasses
Species so different
Grace this land
Where they have thrived for years
As it has never been manned
Golden beaches
Glitter her coast
Where the blue waves caress
Its where i sigh the most
Coconut palm trees
Figs, berries and roots
In glorious harvest
Natures fine fruits
Please close your eyes
And join me there
As you open your eyes
All you can do is stare
Where is this island
Do you all want to hear
Its in the Pacific Ocean
Oh how i wish i was near
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-6.php
At Cape Canaveral
Working for CNN
Carolyn Devonshire
With a news bulletin
In less than three days
The second comet will hit home
All the worlds governments are working
To halt it's destructive roam
Here at NASA
They are preparing a shuttle
To carry a weapon
Deadly but subtle
Scientists from Russia
China and Japan
Are working together
To save our lands
Inside these hangers
A mission is planned
To arm a shuttle
Electronically manned
Aboard it will carry
A weapon of power
Once it strikes home
We await the meteorite shower
In the NASA control room
The count down begins
Our world as we know it
Under three days from its end
The engines roar
As the rocket zests
Inside the shuttle
Is a cargo that's blessed
As it hits Mach 23
It disappears from our view
Beyond our world
A mission so true
With the comet in sight
The shuttles doors now agape
Releasing a small craft
With flags of the world, proudly draped
The shuttle that's followed
This comet of death
Captures the moment
Man left it reft
A craft coloured gold
Approaches at speed
Reaches the comet
Blessed by all creeds
A blinding light
As bright as the sun
Destroys the comet
As the meteorites run
The second shuttle
Is peppered like earth
But she makes it home
Her witness, well worth
On CNN
Footage is shown
The death of a comet
In obliteration blown
How many more
Are lurking out there
As we await their entrance
We stand together, and beware
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-8.php
It could have been me,
It might have been you.
Race and color is baloney,
When another hurts you!
Three huge men, watched
a New York woman die.
They even shut the door.
I was both angry and wanted
to cry.
Her face was smashed by his
gigantic feet.
But those three men, who did
not a thing, explain that to your
maker when His face you meet!
It's easy to stop disaster... stop
being a wimp!
Open your mouth, distract them,
don't be a useless gimp.
Here's a simple ploy, that stops
any bully of a man!
Yell......"Your fly is open," he
becomes dis-manned.
I did that myself on the streets
of San Francisco!
A man beating a woman in
broad daylight, oh?
Blood flying just everywhere,
pedestrians ignored it?
I just got in his face, told him
to stop hitting her this minute!
Don't ask me where that courage
came from!
I just saw pain and wanted to
stop the bum!
He swore at me, in words quite
unintelligible!
Turned angrily away, and ran on
the double.
I helped the woman pick up her things.
She said, thank you and went about
on about her meanderings.
"Don't be a wuss, and ever allow another
to be beaten!"
Being a good Samaritan means you are
a credit to the human race.
Something that neither time nor age can
ever deface!
When police are not in the area to assist
you....
Support your fellow human,
Walking away, I heartily eschew!
Perhaps it was two beatings, I endured in
Chicago Public Schools?
That gave me the courage to make protecting
another, my life's golden rule!
4/1/2021
~5~