Best Mustering Poems
I'll bet this set of rusty shears have a story they could tell,
of the loneliness and broken backs in a land that's hot as hell,
where hopes and dreams mirrored lives that these shearers led,
here among the ruins of an outback-shearing shed.
I'll bet this set of rusty shears have a story often told,
in optimistic mirages where water is pure as gold,
and living quarters offered would barely shield the moon
in stifling heat of summer, or bitter cold in June.
All that's left is one wall teasing, the wind to blow it down.
Mustering yards are overgrown; mulga posts lie on the ground.
There's hand-made nails, broken rails, memories that are spread,
here among the ruins of an outback shearing shed.
I feel like I'm intruding out here on the western plains,
standing here in a ghostly wind where it hardly ever rains,
imagining I lived the life that these shearers led,
in the ruins with the ghosts of an outback shearing shed.
All that's left is one wall teasing, the wind to blow it down.
Mustering yards are overgrown; mulga posts lie on the ground.
Oil tins and sharpening stone, broken glass is widely spread
here among the ruins of an outback shearing shed.
I'll bet this set of rusty shears have a story they could tell,
of the loneliness and broken backs in a land that's hot as hell,
where hopes and dreams preceded lives that these shearers led,
here among the ruins of an outback-shearing shed.
Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it
be salted? It is henceforth cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. Matthew
5:13 KJV
In ancient history, salt was sought and bartered. In some places it was carried by
camels across scorching deserts such as in West Africa where eager merchants
traded it to waiting customers. Salt was used for money in some places, thus giving
us the word salary.
Today salt is used for many purposes, stocked in grocery stores, and is available on
virtually every table.
We use it medicinally, and blocks of salt satisfy cattle’s craving. Salt in water raises
the boiling point, yet salt melts ice. Put salt on meat and it preserves it. Leave salt
off the table and your appetite leaves with it. But too much salt is harmful. It makes
your feet and legs swell and too much is hard on the heart.
Examine one grain of salt under a microscope and note its cube shape. Its sides
are made of two elements, sodium and chlorine. These combine to form sodium
chloride – salt.
Imagine soldiers in a tug of war. An ion of chlorine glares from one corner at a
sodium ion guarding the opposite side. As crystallization occurs the chlorine wins in
the stare-down. Sodium surrenders its single valence electron to chlorine and
together they become sodium chloride. Consider it in verse:
Salty Sentinels
Sodium ions stable,
assembled on the table,
salivating palates crave.
Chlorine ions tiny,
mustering soldiers briny,
guarding corners brave.
Sodium chlorine making,
crystal shakers shaking
cubes so salty white.
Ever fighting blandness;
vectors adding grandness,
enhance the appetite!
There is no wonder Jesus used salt as an example to the disciples in his Sermon on
the Mount. He exhorts Christians to have salt in themselves and have peace with
one another. See Mark 9:50
Brother brother
My brother
Mi Hermano
Man of La Mancha
Fat cat donning
A gray flannel suit
Slim shades
Fake alligator shoes
Brother brother
Mi Hermano
Sitting behind a desk
Making decisions
For erroneous reasons
brother with Spike words
Forked tongue
Strapped for freedom
To write abstract words
Words of wonder
From a latter day poet
Creative brother
for thy self
Mustering words of confusion
Into transformations
Detail lies and half truths
To abort friendship
Brother my brother
Mi Hermano
There is room
on this place
We call mother earth
Let the past be
The past
I extend my hand
And in ending this
I say
Alma con alma
Soul to soul
Honor and truth
Among men
Is here for
All..
Pain in the prophecy of wings through sultry sky
Orchestrating vision, love, destiny
Emancipating the tongue to tattle tales taloned with grief
Triumphing in truth to tumult another joy
Reel all poets in, glistening on a silver sliver of string
Yearning to for a final travail, immortality on wing.
Please God, tonight, dry her tears
Oyster her heart in your love
Eternal comforter of cares
Mystic center of the universe, a dove
Perpetual are music mustering our minds to sing
Overtones from the litany of emotions
Easeless wonder, sacrifice, oblation, offering
Tremulous thunder eastering devotions
Sweetly from the ragged anthems of our gift.
A bag of Spiders
Today, a special delivery came,
Spiders in a bag, a new game.
Open with caution, it warns,
If you are careless, they will swarm.
This writer is a fighter
And will not be bit by a spider.
I follow the instructions to a tee,
Soon they are free and looking at me.
I invited my friends to play,
I waited in anticipation for what they would say.
We four gathered around the table,
Mustering as much courage as we were able.
I took the dice and rolled,
The spiders took off randomly and uncontrolled.
A second roll of the dice
And they began to play nice.
Finished the game, coming in first,
Being sore losers, my friends disbursed.
Sorrow lies within
My heart, heavy.
Weighed down as if full of stones.
My soul, restrained.
Cuffed to the bottom of a seemingly endless well that is this shell of a body.
When did the light go out?
When did my life essence become so shrouded in darkness that I know not who I am anymore?
In a blink of an eye I have become a prisoner of this monster called Depression.
Begging for mercy, please let me feel the warmth of Sunshine's embrace.
Denied.
How can you be so cruel.
Deprivation slowly turns into familiarity.
Settled into my bones like an old friend.
I know this.
Mechanically routine.
I hear Depressions laughter as I use the last bit of strength to fight back.
Question, are you okay?
Mustering up a smile, I'm fine.
Trying to cling to this lifeline.
New feeling, hope?
Trying to convey with my eyes that I'm not
Fine.
Walking away, insides screaming, please come back.
Help me! Please
Save me.
Too late, I am defeated
Seasonal HARVEST OF LOVE:
Dry August and an abundant harvest,
fattened the cows, not to mention me.
September's mustering clouds
and cool winds rustled my mind in preparation.
October leaves rattling in the winds,
astounding breaths of life,
these colorful trees of fall
through my window kept me in awe.
Quickly, time started stealing,
shortening days to keep me on my toes.
Wandering through the light snow covered fields,
the morning's hoar frost shivered me and my icy fingers.
December blizzards and mountains of powder
wrapped me in a blanket with a steaming cup of tea,
seated by my window,
as it continued to amaze me.
March thaws and wet days promised the strength of the coming year,
but matters not what it say,
I will sow again,
praying for yet another dry abundant harvest of love.
9/25/2015 © A & J Juman The "said" poet
Type In (A. Juman) For A relaxing and astonishing moment with all my POEMS
A place we call Home
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The cold westerly winds rolls down the hills and across the plains
The frost on the ground as thick as a man’s hand
The air drawn in chills the body to the bone
This is the Central Plateau, the place we call home
…
Living here you need to be strong and resilient
Prepared to take what- ever Mother Nature brings
Wake to a snow blanket or biting winds and freezing rain
Or just maybe experience a hot sunny day
…
Life is hard for the high country people
Work to be done what-ever the weather
Wood to cut to keep the home fires burning
Feeding out or mustering or maybe a hunt
Keeps meat on the table and the dogs with a full gut
…
We choose to live and work in the high country
For the place is special, gives us a natural high
No place for the hustle and bustle of towns and cities
This place so peaceful, serine and quite
…
A visit to the high country an experience you will never forget
The extremes of weather, the rolling plains and the craggy mountains
The glistening waters of the streams, the rivers and lakes
The majestic Cider Gum, the snow gums and mountain heath
…
For the Central Plateau is like nowhere else on earth
For the dream time of old, the pristine wilderness
The night sky glistening and sparkling so very close
I love the high country, the place I call home
Birth
To Puberty;
A sudden crave for Pie
Couldn't tell you what kind of Pie
My conscious only told me to search for this Pie
From young adult to adult, yet, I haven't found this Pie
I've traveled the distance going to several restaurants, and yet, no Pie
I stumbled across a stranger, and somehow we started talking about this Pie
He stated, "whatever your needs, wants, or desires, just pray, even if its Pie
Shaking my head in disbelief, I walked away, still thinking about this Pie
Starving; at home willing to do something different about this Pie
I kneeled down beside my bed; my eyes were closed to this Pie
Thinking back to the conversation I had in regards to this Pie
Finally mustering up words, I prayed and asked for this Pie
I received a voice saying, " You have now found the PIE,
Now, my son, eat of this Pie
For I'AM
YOUR ONLY
PIE."
Pace, G
04-19-2012
SLOTH
Of the eastern hemisphere, regal lies a continent.
A mustering of soldiers walked a campaign for mastery.
Napoleon Army had virtually defeated all other nation states.
From Russia his Army walked after this war partaken.
They had addressed the real threat.
But oh, Russia’s freezing winter caused sin to manifest.
Napoleon and his Army was put to rest.
Sloth took their life stated Nurse Florence Nightingale.
If only they had just remembered to bath.
__________________________________________________|
Written January 21, 2016!
When lyrics and music are combined they take on a whole new life.
When chlorine and sodium assimilate they make salt.
Separately they are limited, combined they are significant.
Together we can accomplish much, divided we dither.
Salty Sentinels
By James E. Tate
Sodium ions stable, assembled on the table,
Salivating palates crave.
Chlorine ions tiny, mustering soldiers briny,
Guarding corners brave.
Sodium Chloride making, crystal shakers shaking
Cubes of salty white.
Ever fighting blandness, vectors adding grandness,
To enhance the appetite.
You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness,
how can it be made salty again” It is no longer good for anything,
except to be thrown out and trampled by men. Matthew 5:13
Sometimes keeping your tongue straight
is hard when what you got to say is plain
simple and from the heart; not always easy
mustering words that feel the abyss of
living the way fingers know the touch of
life from the skin of death. I figure one way
might’n be shoot’n the tin can right off the
fence and talkin’ all funny; another would be
jus’ to sit there, elbow on knee, and thinkin’
some until the sun sets down. Can git up in
the morning an keep sittin there; sumfin bound
to happen fore or later. I don’t want to preach
just wanna say whats I gotsa say. Get a load
off these bent shoulders so I can git myself
some rest. What I gots on my mind even yer
dog an’ cat oughta git. Why, when we all get
yonder down that there road we all gonna get it
any how so might us well start talkin’ bout it
now ‘fore its too late. I ain’t invitin’ no one
to no roast supper; ain’t telling nobody what
t’do. I ain’t bent on raising no hell nor got
my mind on kickin’ up no dust. I’m just try’n
t’ say that there’s sum plain decency out there
gone missin’ an I think us folks oughta start
standin’ up for what’s right fro’ wrong. Ain’t
talkin’ bout the rules either; jus talkin’ bout
the basic boot straps of how we all’s goin’
bout our business like nobody else matters.
That ain’t doin’ nobody no good no more, maybe
we oughta stop ’n learn take care of eachotha.
Sure not the fashion t’do that kind of thing
these days but I reckon’ somebody gotta
begin. So when ya see some feller walkin’
down the street carry’n a heavy load give’im
a hand an’ a shoulder to lean on ‘cus he’s
your brother. An’ when y’all see some ol’
lady too proud to bother no one with nothin’
you just get right down there an’ press yer
ear up’n to her soul an’ listen good ‘cus she
might got sumfin’ to tell ya ‘bout livin’ an’ how
to treat folks like they be yer own kin. Never
hurt nobody jus’ t’stop an’ think a bit; sort out
the important words from what ain’t important.
We all gonna perish one day, best to learn how’t
do it right; ain’t hard when ya think ‘bout it, git it?
All eye admiration flood upon your presence
Beyond words, this mind bleeds,
Crushed by your metaphysical yet practical brilliance
Deafened by the hilarity of your quirks
Envying those that may embellish in your jests
Frozen in tears where the past brings smiles
Groveling beside the untouched potential
How is it you excel among such fetid company?
Initiating your moon-shines like the sun is your god
Jumping jacks pounding these ever depressing soles
Kittling the fingertips mindfully so
Lackadaisically glancing upon our stranger-friend relationship
Mustering the audacity to surmount your eccentricities
No one could ever quite notice before
Opulent in knowing you have captured so many
Pained inside to the very last penny
Quenched from courage, I remain caged in your glory
Rabid to agitate your unacquainted waters
Suckling upon the overflow—
The leftovers that offer richness I will never know
Understanding you wholeheartedly—I quiver
Violated by the comfort tease of your words
Wondering how love can surface upon unsteady oceans
X chromosome searching for a sharp fool within a current of chaos
Y chromosome spinning, slightly hidden with a small, sparkly smile
Zealous in the frivolous chase—I was latched from the start
I jumped on my bike as fast as i could
but not fast enough, it did me no good
The bully kid was big and mean and acted very tough
laughing all the while he quickly knocked me on my duff
Rubbing grass in my mouth, slapping me in the face
him laughing at me, me feeling so disgraced
He punched me so hard then left me crying on the ground
I slowly stood up, was there no one else around?
I gathered up my books and jumped on my bike
and pedaled straight home mustering all of my might
"What happened to you, son?" Mom was the first to see
I cried as I replied "i got beat by a bully!"
"I'm so sorry for you son, I'm so sad that you were harmed"
just then my dad walked in and immediately looked alarmed
Dad quickly asked me "Son, did you give him back the same?"
I sheepishly said "no" re-experiencing the shame.
Dad just stared awhile then said "I don't like what you're becoming.
Next time you better fight, give the bully what he's got coming!
First you punch him in the stomach then you hit him in the face
He won't hurt you any more, when you put him in his place!"
i slowly nodded as he left, Mom quickly gave my cheek a kiss
"I'm so proud of you son for not fighting with your fists
The Lord's servant doesn’t fight but should be gentle instead"
"Yes ma'am" i quickly said as conflicting counsel twirled round my head
The next 5 years when tensions flared i was a gentle talker
but as a bully approached my sophomore year i threw him against his locker!
Thank you Mom and Dad!
***
October 26, 2019
F T I series 9 childhood
Brian Strand, sponsor
Once again I find myself at the whim of these storms.
From peak to valley, to peak again.
I’m spent.
They take my energy, my focus & desires. Turn them on their head, then shatter them to pieces as though they were never whole. The torment of this story is unyielding and I wonder with breath baited, if the climax will result in a happy ending or a journey in an endless maze, lost forever.
Fighting tears of hopelessness while mustering courage continues to be the most fragile of processes, one where the demands of life weigh untenable.
I’m spent.
However, because I can’t, won’t give up, I swallow these emotions forcing them to the bowels of my soul.
In hopes, the higher me can absolve the defeated nature of my cells, to inspire the vibration of me with life again.
To transfuse my mind and heart to move, to beat anyway.
In the face of my shadow, my demons, my pain, to heal my wounds, and align me with the light again.
I relent.