Best Randall 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.
LETTERS FROM VIETNAM.........Volume One......
November and December...1967/68.......
I drove by your house...several times...In hopes of seeing you......but then I had to go
away....
Dearest Sharon,
I missed your Prom....I had other commitments....
Hemingway...was the very first American causality of WWI...in Italy....a young man. He fell
in love...with his nurse....and his love was not denied....but it was not taken either...
because of the riches of an Italian Duke....she left him....his words did not persuade
her.....as he had prayed.
Jack Riley......Sat in a mud hole....it was still raining.....
He had just called in a Air Strike Mission!. This was going to be close...It had to be.....He
needed time to get to them out..........FUBAR.....!!!!!!
The Jets' screamed down the Valley at dusk!........The first Fighter Jet dived low and
slow.....to draw enemy fire ..hopefully...then the second Fighter Jet would come in.....and
destroy the target.....at my command.....again...hopefully....
Randall Smith.....Vietnam
Form:
Yes blank verse
by randall hardin
I was watching the TV the other day
When a certain Rerun began to play.
It brought me back to one of my brain's stifled bans
Because it was about Lucas McCain...the Rifleman.
All of a sudden I was drenched by a flood
of Western Shows that have been long since dead.
I'll just begin with a few you may remember
Like Marshall Dillon - later Gun Smoke as it came on one September.
But I remember The Cisco Kid
and how Poncho always did what he did
we can't forget the masked stranger
who of course turned out to be The Lone Ranger
Then there was Wyatt Earp, Cimmaron Strip, and Rawhide too,
The Guns of Will Sonnet and a Wagon Train rumbling through.
Will anyone ever forget Paladin in Have Gun - Will Travel
or Trackdown or Wanted Dead or Alive with Josh Randall?
Can we ever forget The Big Valley,
or the Ponderosa's size when Bonanza came on the tele.
There were Tales of Texas Rangers and even an F Troop,
Let's not forget Rin Tin Tin and how down on the bad guys he'd swoop.
I still can see Lash Larue and Hopalong Cassidy with his black hat
There were Three Mesquiters to watch when I sometimes sat.
Do you remember Yancy Derringer and his friend Pahoo
or Johnny Yuma, The Rebel who never yelled "Yahoo"!
Maverick, Sugarfoot, and Cheyenne were favorites of mine
There are too many more here for me to rhyme.
Many a big star began on that little screen
If it hadn't been for the Westerns...What would they have been?
It can be fun thinking about some of those shows
Because they are a part of TV nostalgia as everyone knows.
They have come and gone like the heroes they'd portray
I remember the Westerns...and their horse's neigh.
Glenn Turner and Randall "Randy" Thompson were the best police officer and volunteer firefighter in all of Cobb County, Georgia, until March 1995 (WWF Monday Night Raw and WWF Wrestle-Mania XI) and January 2001 (Raw Is War, WWF SmackDown!, and the WWF Royal Rumble) when their lives were taken away from their loving families by Julia Lynn Womack: aka the "Black Poisoning Widow." It seems that it was these two guys in uniform who married the same woman, especially when she was after their money, totaling hundreds and thousands of dollars, even in life insurance. Glenn and Randy have been killed by a deadly liquid by the form of Etheline Glycol rich antifreeze; Lynn Turner used it to spike that of lime-flavored gelatin (green Jell-O), sweet iced tea, and chicken noodle soup. Now, how cold-blooded was that? But to be honest, Maurice G. Turner and Randy Thompson, God rest their souls, really never should've met this gold digging assassin named Julia Lynn Womack (who's now dead) to begin with. Their families, their colleagues, and the citizens of Cobb County, Georgia, they still don't understand why the lives of these two men have to end in a tragic manner. They've got a bunch of whole lives ahead of them. But now that Lynn Turner, who killed both her police officer husband and her firefighter boyfriend, is dead, she can't hurt anyone else ever again. Randall and Glenn are no longer with their friends and families (including their moms), but their spirits will live on forever and they'll see their loved ones in heaven one day. And as for Julia Lynn Womack-Turner, she got what was coming to her and may she burn in the giant pit of inferno for all eternity.
Poem of Remembrance
Remembering Man’s Best Friend
“God’s Lesser Children”
Who says that all must vanish.
Surely wilted flower's scent, does yet remain within its seed.
As they stood guard,
Now, we too stand
To guard the memory of selfless acts
These lesser children, who knew us well.
Our gate and stride, our scent, our call,
Each gave their lot, no less than all.
To peer again beneath that gaze and feel the nearness of where he lays.
Such sacred moments, etched in stone,
Forever sacred and mine alone.
But now it dresses you again,
You whose life these lives did hold.
Clad in friendship, from breast to knee,
A life not long, but oh so pure, it's scent and song remains in you,
with timeless honor, and future sure.
Randall
COAT OF ARMS
Last night I couldn't sleep,for thinking only you...
As I wrapped in warm embrace, your spirit tinted blue
To oust away thine pangs, in hopes to see thee smile...
I'll yoke ye 'pon my shoulders, to carry through this mile
To trade your tears of sorrow, and see them shed in joy...
I'd jest for thine amusement, and be your favorite toy
For thine malady been expelled, I'd invoke it banished 'way...
Taking it 'pon mine self, so you've strength to seize th' day
Though I'm not an king, nor prince 'pon ivory steed...
Th' possessions I've procured here, are thine if felt th' need
I'll sweep thee off thy feet, if not familiar with th' waltz...
To breathe ye 'cross th' ballroom, as an feather floating 'loft
Mark mine words I state here, and hold me to their true...
I'll prove I 'steem thee precious, as unfeigned I surely do
Just promise me one thing, that next time when your down...
You'll wear these words as armor, 'til I mend thy broken crown
?Randall ('~A~')zaza Martin
a.k.a. "Thunderwolf'69" ??????
DESTINY’S PROMISE
Who will understand this path down which I lead,
Once black soil underfoot, now waves unsure and sunset fade,
“Horizon far”
but decision made.
Who will peer beneath this stalwart gaze and feel hopes breeze
brush the face and dry the tear for comforts sake;
“Horizon near”
Oh such joy, such laughter full, warm smiles surround me like
honeysuckle mornings that call to wake;
Warm sun on my face, the end of this journey, at last day break!
“Horizon full”
Randall
So young, barely legal,
but the begining was the end.
I never thought I'd see this day,
but it came quick as the wind.
I wonder what went through the mind
as the lights came down...
Were your last breaths painful?
Was your soul heaven bound?
Why did he have to drink
then get behind the wheel?
Why didn't you just walk away?
Is this nightmare real?
So many questions never answered;
dreams, that will never be fufilled.
Thanks to what the alcohol did
the night that you were killed.
Form:
Going to church,
it’s Sunday morn down south
Giddy feet youngsters
racing to the door of the temple,
having shrieks of joy erupting from their mouth
They are so glad when they get ushered in
While the solemn congregation gathers within
to hear another fiery sermon delivered
with holy conviction
It’s hot down in Alabama, Birmingham,
as the sermon heat starts to kinetically expand
Explosive words demanding social justice
Old black folk hollering: Amen, amen!
They remember
what their parents told them
about how it was back then
And the tears fall ...
as they hear the cry for change,
because nothing much has changed
Then at the rise of the Alleluia cries,
a river of tears gushes out ...
after the bomb explode
Shattering young dreams, windows
and bodies
with terrible, mutilating shrapnel
Prayers of wails without words
from a charred church service is sadly heard
Dedicated to the memory of all the victims
who died during the civil rights struggle of the 60's
This poem was inspired by the poem, “Ballad of Birmingham,”
written by the late great black poet, Dudley Randall (1901 - 2000)
if I knew it would be the last time
that I'd see you fall asleep
I would've tuck you in tightly & pray the Lord your soul to keep
if I knew it would be the last time that I walk out the door
I would give you a hug, kiss & call you back one more time
if I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice
lifted up in praise
I would've video tape each action & word
so I could play them back day after day.
if I knew it would be the last time
I could spare extra minute to stop and say
"I LOVE YOU"
INSTEADING OF ASSUMING YOU WOULD KNOW I DO.
I studied cosmology for 4 years before I realized there was no mention of make-
up or hair styling.
I saw the movir "Superfly", and didn't understand why they never even showed a
zipper!
I wanted Lasix surgery- but, due to being stupid, I wound up with Latex surgery;
now I have "boobs".
I love movies- and had my heros- and I was classified a "copy cat". But I got tired
of the hair balls in my throat.
I'm probably the only one who considered suicide by H-bomb.
I ordered a "Blair" catalogue, expecting a book about witches.
I had a car I nicknamed "Flattery" 'cause it got me nowhere.
Ever notice that some hospitals have a "detox" ward? Does that mean that
somewhere there's a "tox" ward?
I'm a musician-I've been, for years, trying to join a "Rubber Band". Guess that's a
stretch, huh?
My house is so messy, I don't remember the color of my carpet.
I used to be a department store buyer. But I could never afford to buy stores.
I suffered from chronic pain for years. Then I got divorced.
All this talk about "role models"- boy- just go to the bakery!
I have a very high IQ- but in my case it means "Idiot Quota".
Someone once scolded me about my self-depreication. I replied-"It's better than
self defecation!"
Everytime I went to the psych ward I signed in as "Randall P. McMurphy" true!
confused? see "One Flew Over the Cuckoo Nest".
Russian? I don't know, they seem to move pretty slow to me.
Napoleon Bonaparte? I don't know, I've had a number of Napoleons from
various bakeries; I never found any bones.
I guess the Nazis must'a needed a lot of underarm deodorant.
Cell phone? I don't know- seems like being in prison is hardly worth it.
If we capture Osama Bin Laden, instead of death, I'd make him watch Billy Mays
commercials 24/7. (Too gruesome to even think of!)
Jock itch is a bit_h. Glad I'm not a "jock".
Wars never end, they just change names.
I once spent a winter in my old home, alone- no heat, no gas, no phone,no
food,sometimes no electricity. Ever have your underwear frozen fast to your
body? True!!
Well, my friends, till we meet again! Here's to Soup!
writing a prose poem
randall edson said im good
should be enough,man
His world ended there, by the road
While walking, he was struck by a car
After everything this, and this was the end
«Sleep, gentle man», the cats purred
«Sleep, good master», the dogs barked
«Sleep, you are one of us», the children shouted
«Sleep, you celestial navigator», the pilots said
Crowded out of the ignorant darkness
He opened the door silently, very silently
The door of great poets
Yesterday’s Tears
Today the rain seemed colder, than ever I had known.
Each drop awakes a memory, as cold and wetted stone.
Drops like tears of melted snow, yet frozen fast in time.
Appear again like stony steps, looking back on this path of mine.
Countless tears left standing, to peer through soulish gates.
Gates secured, and chained within, each tear awaits its fate.
A fate well known to all within, to all who fear to cry.
For all the tears that go unshed, denied the chance on cheek to dry.
Yet here again they stand at gate, as if to deny their destined fate.
And pour like rains deluge in spring, to sing their song with cleansing bring.
Oh to deny this salty death, this parched and painful swallow of breath.
To breach the bars of soulish gates and loose the chains where past tears wait.
If only one in earnest shed, could scale this briny wall,
Then pain’s dry dust would moistened be, removing taste of gall.
So cleanse now this palate of tears, salt and brine,
And sweeten the taste of this path of mine.
Randall