Best On The Lookout Poems
I’m at my happiest
When my heart overflows
With kindness and gentle compassion
And feel the energy of the universe
Radiating from my heart
I feel my best when I resonate
With the harmony around me
Finding ways to enhance
The tapestry of mankind’s brotherhood
At times by gargantuan efforts
At times by seemingly trivial deeds
Always on the lookout to help and contribute
To make this world a better place
There is no end to the ways
I can have a significant impact
Though there's no way I'll never know
The ripple effect of my kindness
I’m at my happiest
When I recognize the beauty of humanity
And feel we are meshed as one solid community
Because I fit in and it is my honor and privilege to
Bestow kindness every hour every day of my life
Submitted on November 25, 2018 for contest A LITTLE KINDNESS NEVER HURTS sponsored by BRENDA CHIRI - RANKED 1ST
The distant mountain is ablaze
Sun rain clouds blend majesty
From my perch on the lookout hill
All land between is ocean
Clouds like white waves obscure the Earth
I bathe in that transcendence
If I were a mountain lion
I would've been wary and wise
back turned safely to the wall
watching with careful eyes
I would've been cautious, cagey
and on the lookout for lies
but instead I trusted blindly
and fell for your disguise
You were my blood relation
a tie that was said to bind
but when I hit my lowest low
you were the most unkind
You used me when convenient
drained resources, energy
exploited my better nature
and got the best of me
When others acted cruelly
telling lies and tearing me down
instead of you defending me
you disowned me all over town
You were the most insidious
sneaky, snarky snipe
proving true the back-stabbing
best-friend stereotype
But, at last I found you out
your cover fully blown
I watched you fall in your own trap
and left you there alone
Standing in a forest, birds call out to us and the smell of rain fills my nose.
A boy stands tall in front of me with a black wolf beside him.
His brown hair ruffled by a breeze that causes music from distant chimes.
His tanned skin is scarred and dry.
His blue-green eyes are sharp and alert as he stares at me.
The wolf's yellow eyes are on the lookout for danger.
The boy's clothes were made of furs, feathers, and leather.
A necklace of sharp teeth hung around the wolf's neck and red feathers were pierced into its alert ears.
Then the boy's thin, pink lips turn upwards in a small smile.
A quiet voice floats on the breeze towards me, saying, "Come home."
I blink, and the trees, birds, wolf, and boy are gone.
Was this a hallucination or a memory from a life and promise I made long ago?
The marshal saddled up as dawn broke over old Dodge City.
Upon town rabble and mean hombres he took no pity!
He donned his ten-gallon hat and strapped on his gun.
On his vest the marshals' badge gleamed in the rising sun!
Sheepskin chaps and fancy boots completed his dandy outfit.
He was a handsome dude - with the ladies he made quite a hit!
He mounted his horse Woody and took a ride about the town,
Ever on the lookout for desperados of notorious renown!
He took a break for a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs,
Then continued on his rounds on the lookout for society's dregs.
Rowdy cowpokes galloped down Main Street on a toot.
Marshal Dan escorted them out of town in hot pursuit!
At high noon the peace of Dodge City was interrupted,
When a brawl at the Long Branch Saloon suddenly erupted!
Shooting began and Marshal Dan drew his peace-maker;
Two rowdy gun-slingers had a date with the undertaker!
With Marshal Dan, peace in Dodge City was guaranteed.
Danny dismounted his rocking horse Woody, his faithful steed.
It had been a tough day trying to be fair and impartial.
Now it was afternoon nap time for the little five-year old marshal!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Bill Bulldog was our gorgeous British Bull Dog. We were so lucky to have Bill in our lives for eleven wonderful years. Bill was like no other dog we ever had before. A gentle boy ~ a character! My granddaughter was always scared of dogs, but adored Bill, for to her he wasn’t a dog ~ he was a ‘Bill’.
A face only his Mother could love and she did
Bill bulldog was his name
Bill was a character
Bill was adorable
Bill knew it ~ he was such a Diva
Bill had so many facial expressions
blinking his eyes rapidly – Bill’s pathetic look
jutting his jaw forward – Bill’s naughty look
tossing his head in disdain – Bill’s diva look
bounding toward you whilst running sideways ~
Bill’s ‘get out of my way look ~ I don’t think I can stop’
Bill on rising would roll on his back ~ legs in the air ~ rocking from side to side
as if welcoming a new day ~ you could almost hear him shrieking with glee
Bill loved all homosapiens for what they might have in their pockets
Bill was always on the lookout for treats
Bill ignored other dogs – never thinking he was one
Bill’s snoring kept me awake – stereophonic sounds with hubby joining in too
as he aged Bill became a late riser
needing gentle persuasion to go for a pee
aghast that we had woken him at such an unearthly hour
Bill’s fierce demeanor was a mask he wore
to hide his loving character
Bill would lick you to death
Bill loved to lick
but licking his food was not something Bill did
Bill would gulp it down at the speed of light
Bill was our handsome Boy
Bill was a ‘one off’ – for when they made Bill they broke the mould
Bill was unique
Bill was our Boy
Bill brought us so much laughter and tears
Bill I miss you so…
Written 30th July 2019
3rd PLACE
Contest: Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 – List
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Contest Strand Pick 5
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
I can not slow her stride
She gets further and further every day
It breaks my pride
She is unaware of what she is passing by
As I lay down to think of her I sigh
She's unreasonably cunning
She has me running
In circles in my mind
On the lookout trying to find
Her
But she keeps a steady stride
And forever has left my side
She is in her own world now
She left me alone, how?
I treated her like royalty
She had my loyalty
She had earned my trust
It blew away in one gust
The gust had came in
When she had spoke of
Him
She left as quickly as had came
Thought of her drive me insane
Now I am the one having to move along
Music can keep me happy
Sing along to every song
Even if it feels awkward and wrong
She left me without thinking twice
I thought she was nice
But she is no more
What all for?
I thought I was worth it
I guess not
I guess the only problem
Between the two of us was
Me
You’re certainly missing out
Whilst you’re fooling about
And you’re swimming in doubt
So I shall certainly you out-rout
I’d advise you to be on the lookout
For I’m your rival, far more worthy a scout
Take heed or you’ll end up looking like a lout
All I can tell you for now is that you’re missing out
While you’re looking away
Twirling in relentless dismay
Your insolence successfully leads you astray
So He finds me in greater favour every day
Unlike you, I’m eloquent with words that gently sway
The God with whom for hours on exhausted knees I stay
‘Till the last hour of the night a dear prayer to say
With heartfelt sobs and a submissive heart I pray away
I whisper, “Dear God of mercy, show me your face
For I am a sinner in need of Your saving Grace
For years in meditation and supplication I’ll chase
The benedictions You bestow unto the winners of the race
The so-called ‘faithful’ ones who cautiously pace
In the promising path which for them You daily trace”
I solemnly utter, “My heart with Love and Faith do interlace
So I can one good day be worthy of seeing Your glorious face”
If you were smart, you’d take after me
Vigilant and sober at all times you’d be
So from the snares of the enemy you’d easily flee
Who’s literally got you down on one knee
Yet too proud you are for your life to give an earnest plea
No diligence whatsoever for efforts to be free
Indeed that thief I am, the thief of grace, you see
Watch out, or you’ll lose all your blessings to me
What could I really know of the breaks
in the land
huge canyons bleeding red cut by the wind
with the snow swirling around our tires
barns upright
and fallen to a tumble like icebergs
windshield riming over with a crust of ice
we scrape madly inside
trying to keep cold out
speed slowing
slowing to a crawl
always on the lookout
outside line appearing and gone,
no worries about
cattle led inside to safety to be watered and fed
but what of us?
Will we be trapped clutching a candle
wanting a chocolate bar,
waiting for a tractor?
and all the flat seeming land seems to have ditches
and roof pitches and rushing trees, and a swirl
of slumbering snow
to lumber down in drifts and piles
no fire would ever warm us
temperature dropping
dropping
until finally we see it shining in the dark
a lantern at a farm
a fleet of snow mobiles to greet us
scurry is off
before our ears turn blue,
would they fall off?
Luckily, not tonight, not in this blizzard,
we have home.
LIFE IS A FLICKER IN THE WINDOW
“Life is like a flame’s flicker in the window, the window of time. One moment the spark is there, and the next it’s gone."
When you look at a flame, what do you see?
I see a flame. Not just any flame, a bright flame looking for more room to explore and to expand its life knowledge upon.
I see a flame of self-confidence, and the will to believe in what you believe to be right. What is right isn’t always popular, but what’s popular isn’t necessarily right either.
I see a flame of a true-hearted soul. A soul who not only lights up your world when your lost in the dark, and need a hand; but a soul who will hold your hand all the way to the end of the tunnel, and straight on til morning.
I see a flame of born seeker. Someone who is seeking to know all there is in the world, but doesn’t have enough time to do so. Someone who is always on the lookout for something new to expand upon and never stops looking til all possibilities have been breached.
Finally, I see a flame of life. The flame of life that gives birth to everyone, and everything; yet hold the ability to not only create, but to destroy as well. The flame that in one flick of the flames light, can bring people together, or break people apart. A flame that can help people understand, or make people discriminate for they don’t understand.
As some wise person once said, ‘Man is not built for defeat. A man can be crushed and destroyed, but never defeated. Defeat is not a time to think about what you do not have, but a time to think of ways to do something with what you do have.’
There are many different ways to look at a flame, and many different beliefs about it. But the flame is an ancient being, to which holds more knowledge than can ever be perceived by a mere mortal.
Reach out to grab it by force, and it will burn you. Reach out to touch it with a gentle hand, and it will be absorbed into your very soul, and only ignite when is needed to provide the confidence to be yourself, and not let anyone tell you otherwise.
It is all about how you choose to approach opportunity when it is burning in front of your eyes, waiting to find a new anchor to this world, that will let it burn for eternity and beyond.”
- Gianna Hogen
TEACHERS are always on the lookout for CHEATERS!
Contest : Anagram One Liner
Sponsor: Silent One
11th December 2015
Going For A Job Interview
The moment of truth comes, when one comes face to face with a prospective boss…
Having secured an appointed date for interview, it is time to meet the boss…
This learned young man is well prepared in his spirits, mind and body…
For this day is the much anticipated date to define his immediate destiny…
Freshly minted and on the lookout for a dream job offer in his field of studies…
His hopes are high, with a gamut of feelings of trepidation, anticipation and anxiety …
Getting a job is a typical priority for many a graduate after years of books and studies..
But the process of looking around for a dream job and landing it is far from easy…
For a wholesome week, this day has been crowding into his daily thoughts and routine….
Over and over again he has mentally run through his expected replies to incoming queries..
Will this window of opportunity be in the right one for a youthful graduate such as he…
Will his mannerism, answers and personality be up to the expectations of the boss to be…
He is well dressed for the occasion, most appropriate for the formality of the occasion…
Textbooked details are well in place, looking sharp with not a hair or attire was out of place…
His newly bought tie is snuggly attached to his high collar, well he looks like an executive-to-be…
Looking smart and most presentable, document folder in his hand, he’s well and ready….
Grabbing the car keys , he gave a perfunctory goodbye wave as he strode to the family car …
With fingers crossed, the father wished him the best of luck and whispered a silent prayer ….
There you go, son, you have to make your own way, may God bless you at the interview…
Have faith in yourself, you are well prepared and you are at your best as you can possibly be…
Waving goodbye and with a big smile of encouragement, he watched junior drive away…
Stiffling the rising inner glow of pride that that young man is now big enough to seek his way…
The next few hours will be crucial, will the outcome of his job interview be successful….
Will the call yet to come be one of jubilation or will it be one of deflated enthusiasm…?
John Wayne will be there
and the steaks will be rare,
in Cowboy Heaven;
And the Posse will be – not gunning for me
- in Blue Yonder sky
The saloon’s never dry,
it’s all free - you don’t buy,
in Cowboy Heaven;
Three fingers of rye, no more patch on my eye
- in Blue Yonder Sky
I’ll be riding off into the sunset,
Saddled up on my trusty old steed
But my permanent ‘get out of jail’ card,
guarantees that by dawn I’ll be freed
The Good Sheriff will be
on the lookout for me,
in Cowboy Heaven;
Keeping injuns at bay,
sending snakes the wrong way
- in Blue Yonder sky
My horse just won’t care,
‘cos them spurs won’t be there,
in Cowboy Heaven;
He’ll be swishing his mane
on the tumbleweed plain
- in Blue Yonder Sky
There’ll be pictures of me
nailed on every tree,
in Cowboy Heaven;
But there’ll be no reward ,
cos’ I’m loved by my Lord
- in Blue Yonder Sky
All the good guys in white,
and fightin’ the good fight,
in Cowboy Heaven;
What a place it will be -
and the Whiskey’s on me
- in Blue Yonder Sky
Here on poetrysoup, the newest poem,
pops up on-screen
like the latest off-shoot, or newborn babe
or like a newest floral bud,
in the orchards of poetry.
Or like a fresh wave of words
crashing and cresting upon the turf
For all and sundry to view, enjoy and surf!
Or ha ha, even like linguistic kernels
that pop like popcorn
in the crockery of poetrysoup
with different flavors to choose from,
to reveal what's been cooking in the minds.
Some indeed spiced-up,
some spicy
some acidic or buttery
all of 'em', more or less with melody.
Or the newest poetry is
to put it more exquisitely,
is a fragrant flower just bloomed
in the bedecked bowers of poetry
Or to say, each latest poem pops on screen
Like pop goes the weasel
For poems pop up like meerkats
but on the lookout for friends instead of foes.
Ah, and then they might wait
for the honey and jam of comments
and perhaps even the bitter gourd of criticism,
for healthy constructive criticism
is like any bitter pill vital to health.
You're lucky if the doctors of poetry
refrain from prescribing chits
of bitter pills to swallow,
Or opted for sugar-coated ones
for which you heave a sigh of relief
you didn't receive, blunt sharp critique!
As I prefer sugar coated pills in all matters.
Yet if they do administer the wrong dose
out of sheer bias and prejudice,
you can always give them a taste of their own medicine,
if you wish to be vengeful and impudent
Or you can forgo, overlook and be lenient
For my poetry is meant to be tasteful
and gentleness is nice.
Harshly insensitive reviews can leave
a sour after taste in the mouth.
As I'm habituated to taking sugar coated pills.
A biased person could never appreciate my poetry.
Let's taste and try out all the varied variety of curries and broths of muse out here...
Let's all appreciate the different flavours that simmer in the poetry soup melting pot,
many cooking up delectable foods for thought...
My black cat stares out the front window
On the lookout for neighborhood foes
Then one instance at night
When I had on the light
Her reflection fought back blow for blow
The desert is a sweet hunting ground
My cat, Ace, sneaks about without sound
But, more wily than she
A coyote, hungry
Up a Mulberry, Ace had to bound
I recall my cat’s first Christmas tree
A huge playground was all this could be
Up the tree in a flash
To the floor they did crash
Think she saw eight of her nine lives flee
September 5, 2016