Best Ninety Three Poems
I, The Clone
So that I would not live alone,
My parents thought I should be a clone.
They cloned at first two then four,
Then they cloned just four more.
Being the first parents in the nation
Practising exponential regeneration
They tried again to double the brood
Using methods not fully understood.
Breeding at this prodigious rate
I soon numbered two thousand and forty eight.
And, allowing for those not now alive,
Next became four thousand and sixty five.
So I continued to expand,
Filling up towns throughout the land,
And, some years after the age of consent
Held all the seats in Parliament.
And so it’s easy now to see
How I became my own M.P.
When I numbered six million and forty two,
I was army, navy and air force too.
At ten billion three hundred and twenty eight,
I became head of every state,
And, depending on my point of view
Deposed myself with war and coup.
So by accident or by intent
Became first global President.
Now four trillion seven hundred and ninety three
The only person in the world is me.
28th Feb. 2016
Originally drafted in the days of Dolly The Sheep.
For every step my father took,
my short legs took three.
“Daddy, please,” I called to him,
“you walk too fast for me.”
My sister took a husband;
my brother went to sea.
Our father sighed, “Our family time
has been too brief for me.”
As my teen years ended
and college lay before me,
Dad shook his head in sadness,
“It’s all too fast for me.”
When Mama died, we reminisced
their forty-seven years.
The passing time, the life they shared
were captured in our tears.
And as computers came of age,
Dad watched me surf the net.
“I’d like to learn,” he said to me,
“But I’m not ready yet.”
Then as Dad lay dying, carrying years
that numbered ninety-three,
I could not help but say aloud,
“They went too fast for me.”
* I wrote this poem on the way to my father’s funeral. I wanted to read it aloud as a tribute, but my sister said the rhyme made it sound too amateurish. She has her PhD in Literature, so I didn’t argue. I should have.
The old folks at the home, and none at all
of them too fleet of foot in their last years,
came shuffling, some with walkers, down the hall,
including those with aids pressed in their ears.
Then one (whose punctured lung had not healed well)
was wheeled in; she had just turned ninety-three!
They'd all come (when the nurse had rung the bell),
for what was now to be revealed: a "Tea!"
The English lady wheeled in never knew
what they were planning as she lay in bed.
They'd stamped the name of "Emily" onto
The sparkling crown which now lay on her head.
With cake crumbs on her chin, in pure delight,
She sipped the tea they'd sweetened up just right!
April 28, 2010
Bent fingers trace embroidered leaves
on satin and long lacy sleeves.
Blush roses, twenty-six she counts--
A French word she can't now pronounce.
She blows dust from old envelopes
tied with blue ribbons and her hopes.
The letters penned by her true mate.
Over his name, she... hesitates.
A trunk in attic soon became
her refuge from days all the same.
Photos dwelling midst her daydreams,
and keepsakes of sweet seventeen.
She thought he'd walk up Dusty Lane;
he might appear, along with rain
and wash away her endless tears;
bring summer nights and happy years.
A wedding date that came and passed;
memories cut like broken glass.
A heartache like the roaring wind,
returning nightly without end.
She lived alone among the ghosts
of dances, laughter, champagne toasts.
Altho eccentric, she was bright;
looked forward to impending night.
Aunt Agnes passed at ninety-three;
still wore her ring for all to see.
Memories left for wind to tend;
they have beginnings but no end.
I wanna be part Of Your Life,I wanna Color and paint your skies.
I wanna kiss away your tears,I wanna listen ,to all your fears.
I wanna live in Your Daylight and in the Evening Kiss You,Ni Night.
I wanna be your Stepping stone,Where you can lean,Where you can rest,
I wanna be your strong back bone,I wanna be your Home Sweet Home.
I wanna be your every dream,your bright future,your destiny,
I wanna be all I can be,Holding you close,So close to me.
I wanna be your Sunshine Spell,In your Deserts,a Water's Well.
I wanna be a Helping Hand,I wanna listen and Understand,
I wanna be your Safe Warm tent,Where you can rest,hold to my hand.
I wanna be your Scented Breeze,Garden Of Flowers,tall Shading trees.
I wanna be your soothing balm,Your troubled Seas,transform to Calm.
I wanna be your Memory,till You grow up to Ninety -three.
I wanna be Your Juliette,A kind Of love ,You never had.
I wanna be your Shining Star,lightning the darkness from miles afar.
l wanna be all I could be,to make You Happy,to make you see,
Life is so beautiful, for You and Me,Let's trust Our Hearts,Let's Let it be.
Charma
Exceptions disregard the rules
Like neither’s “i” and “e”
Or smokers who refuse to quit
And live to ninety-three.
Cops who park illegally
As if they were allowed
And those who pass the velvet ropes
That won’t admit the crowd.
Parents who refuse vaccines
For reasons none too clear
And A-list folk for whom a table
Seems to just appear.
There’s an expectation that
From rules, some will depart;
Exceptions, though, remind us that
What’s fair plays little part.
Ballad of Smorgasbord Cat
Once upon a hot July night
Smorgasbord Cat was born, not right.
The only kitten born with clothes,
She came out wearing pantyhose.
Blue bellbottoms when she turned eight,
Made her feel insanely great.
Her siblings bullied her for fun
But she was powerful, this one.
She’s odd, her mother told her dad.
But she’s so good, and seldom bad.
Where did she get her name? He asked.
I do not know, her mother basked.
Smorgasbord Cat soon ran a club,
She sold drink and delicious grub.
Her relatives all bragged her up.
She gave them each a special cup.
That cat lived to be ninety-three.
And now just between you and me,
I admit I gave her that name.
On a bet at a poker game.
Smorgasbord Cat has her own song.
Cross-eyed face, and red tail, long.
Yes, bawdy and funny, was she.
Married five times, litters of three.
Happy, joyful lots of fun,
Smorgasbord Cat, truly best one
At her funeral everyone came.
No one knows where she got her name.
When we were young and growing through our teens, we've all had our favorite teachers. I've had a few teachers that made the grade. But I must say, there was one woman teacher in particular that was at the top of the podium for me. Because I always kept to myself, she probably had no idea that she was my favorite. I was that curly-haired shy boy who never did his homework on time. That being said, she always passed me with mediocre grades, C's and B's. I never minded those grades, as long as I passed I was cool with that. To me, she could have failed me and she still would have been my favorite. She was always so nice and wonderful. I remember saying to myself " Boy, she reminds me of my own mother...nice, sweet, and kind" Just a lovely woman she was. Well, about ten years ago I had read in the local newspaper that sadly she had passed away at the age of ninety-three. In her obituary they had mentioned her surviving loved ones, those that were proceeded by her, and some of her favorite things she liked in life. One of her surviving daughters mentioned how she loved children and she enjoyed teaching. She had also mentioned that one of her favorite students was a curl-haired boy who never handed in his homework on time. ( In the newspaper she mentioned my name, but I won't reveal it to the judge of this contest). I was shocked to see that, and my grin covered half my face. Although this is a bit sad, I was very happy that the both of us were each others secret favorites.
happily, I cried
it touched me deeply...inside
rest in peace - Miss Jane
Hey, Write Me A Happy Haibun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
6-21-2019
Outside my windowpane
Daylight dwindles
Sunshines sparsely
Further from the new dome skies
Ninety-three million miles away
Imbued in ripened colors
Nature’s mahogany, oak, and cherrywood trees
and Jogger’s grassy paths once lime greens,
Chanting to changing tones of richer reds
Clustered blue-jays adorn
Like shimmering rhinestones
Gayly sing above our heads
Shadows stretch out deep
Swaying weeping willows sweep
Smoke smells flow through the crisp air
Musky scent from stonefire oven pits
Spiced up dishes mouthwatering lit
Lavish and lustrous ambers crackle
Flaming orange leaves swirl around and prance
Seducing all to voyeur their performance
Golden crinkled copper leaves splayed
Reaching, rustling to the ground
Making shuffling sounds
Minty blues peak through scarlet rays
Fall cashmere shawls display!
Autumn gardens
Nights that linger lasting moments
Granting lover’s time
For making romance
Inundating radiant sunshine beams
down on my face
fervently tracing crows feet
nearing the frown I can taste
obliterating tear streaks
transmitting them
into the depths of outer space
introducing an iridescent spectrum
of piercing waves
golden ears fear in the race
Electromagnetic oscillation
inspiring me to rely
religiously
upon solar energy
photosynthesis
eradicating unwanted toxins
by chasing them
vehemently
So on this sacred date of "ONE"…
negative energy is trumped
by the positive tsunami
of the sun
and as she dares me
to stare into her face of grace
ninety three million miles away…
I sigh
as her radiance blasts my face
in such a merciful way
suddenly my shaking knees
give way to an epiphany
that this day is laced with sanctity
Finally
the world's eyes feast upon
an auspicious
uniformed alignment
five ones standing side by side
gold adorned
a spiritual aspirant
making change the world will see...
"The Sun's Seven"
pronouncing a unified spirituality
* Entrance for P.d.'s "Unique Line" Contest-----This poem's title is unique "A Day of Ones In the Sun" because it describes a very special and unique calendar date 11-1-1. But if you missed it...
don't worry or let your eyes get blurry with tears
cus' 11-11 's comin' in a hurry to relinquish your fears.....so yes there will be another day of ones on 11-11-1! tho' I can't promise you at the Soup that the 11th will be filled with sun!------I believe my poetry, like many others on this amazing site, has a fresh variety, inspired by life and everything in it! I hope you enjoy my lines like :"the world's eyes feast upon
an auspicious
uniformed alignment
five ones standing side by side
gold adorned
a spiritual aspirant"
Way back then when I was ten
the year was nineteen ninety-three,
Mom was so proud when I said aloud
that I made the school spelling bee.
Days of math sums and bubble gums
have faded through the years,
but I sing along to a certain song
and it still brings me to tears.
It was a big fad to dress all in plaid
and wear a necklace with a peace sign,
ponytails and ripped jeans worn by every teen
and neon colors were thought to be mighty fine.
I loved cassette tapes that let me escape
at least for minutes through my headphones,
while I would read and write notes in a Mead
after school when I was home all alone.
Kids shopped the malls and covered their walls
with posters from every teen magazine,
what made us sob was each new heartthrob
from every band, TV show and movie we'd seen.
With Rollerblades and a new pair of shades
we roamed the sidewalks until it got late,
our backpacks were heavy and filled with a bevy
of boring English assignments that could wait.
For many hours I could stay and sit and play
with Nintendo games, stickers and Treasure Trolls,
then aside they were tossed and some became lost
except for right here in my heart and my soul.
That time proved to be the most fun for me
O, how I wish that I could relive it again,
way back then when I was just ten
and the year was nineteen ninety-three.
Driving this old country road always puts my mind at ease
Gently rolling hills, some cows, creeks, some trees
It's another rainy day drive
The green hills look so alive
Full of life, not the usual brown
How I wish you were still around..
These green hills... These green hills...
I miss you baby, I miss you so..
I see you everywhere I go..
It’s the first day of a new year
And it still feels like you're here
The drive is different this time, I know
Miss your smile surrounding me, can’t let go
I remember we stopped at that farm over there
And sipped lemonade in the warm air
They took our picture on the front porch swing
You laughed so when i tried to sing..
These green hills... These green hills
I miss you baby, I miss you so..
I see you everywhere I go..
Passing mile marker ninety-three
Oh.. you got so mad at me
I wouldn't stop to see the baby calf
I wish i did, now makes me laugh
There's a lot I'd do different now
I know our time is past, yet somehow..
Green hill memories, they won't let go
They're part of me, this I know..
These green hills... These green hills
I miss you baby, I miss you so..
I see you everywhere I go..
I'm ok for now, I still go on..
Life's still full, maybe its just begun
But I know these green hills will not compare
With those we'll see in heaven's air
These green hills... These green hills
I miss you baby, I miss you so..
I see you everywhere I go..
Everywhere I go…
Some have asked about how song turned out. Check for on itunes under my name Shawn Sackman. Thanks.
Ninety-three million miles
From sun to Earth’s Goldilocks Zone
Tiny Mercury and mysterious Venus
Torrid, too close to the sun
Carbon—based life prohibited
An Icarus Zone perhaps
But what of Earth’s neighbor?
Holst’s “militant” red planet Mars
Crimson star glows ominously
At 164 million miles from Earth
Theories abound
Scientists say Mars once had water
Microorganisms found
When man finally explores
Might evidence confirm speculation?
We may learn how species evolved
On a planet now dry and desolate
And what of the Sphinx head on Mars
Created by intelligent beings,
Or just a “natural formation”?
What changed to prevent Mars
From supporting life today?
Could Earth suffer the same fate?
Stay tuned to the news
Climate change is underway
*March 31, 2021
For Anthony Biaanco’s Goldilocks Zone contest
The Alphabet Contest
Sponsor: Alfred Vassallo
A Is For Anniversary
Their love story began on April twenty-third, nineteen forty-five,
two young lovers vowed eternity before their family's eyes.
There were hard days ahead living through the Great Depression,
an economic decline, raise in unemployment through recession.
World War II came and he went off to fight for his country,
only communication was through a few letters mailed monthly.
Back home with a baby waiting for him in his lover's arms,
war had ended and he came home to protect his family from harm.
Six children within twelve years, their family was complete,
he was such a hard working white collared man only wearing pleats.
She stayed at home to raise the kids, for that was way back then,
shopping for food and doing laundry, dedicated mother til' the end.
Children grew up and off to college or a marriage of their own,
while the loving couple became grandparents, oh my how they've grown!
Fifty years flew by and they kept the same routine everyday,
ten years later came great grandchildren they were so proud to display.
A decade later we noticed a decline in his health from arthritis and old age,
she also was getting frail very slowly with each passing day.
For now it was the children's turn to take very good care of them,
falling all the time, visits is the ICU, and hospice could never prevent.
He had lived to be ninety eight, while she is now ninety three,
his time on earth had come to an end, and he was finally free.
So many fond memories survived each one thought of with many tears,
this April twenty-third, they would have been married seventy one years.
I speak to the Lord nightly in thanksgiving for their love and His mercy,
I'll whisper to the sky, “I love you Grandpa, happy seventy-first anniversary.”
Date Written: March 20, 2016
Joe and Ann liked to play docs and nurses
When their kids all came home there were curses
Well the problem you see
Is they're both ninety three
And both not quite ready for their hearses...
Written on 24th August 2021