Best Rheumy Poems
In dizzying rounds rain goes up and down;
see the heat of the day steamroll the lawn.
Mist ascends; then back again, dew rebounds;
to bathe the leaves, kiss the breeze, rain fawns.
A lawn moss green down by the stream at dawn
is frosted with a sprite haze of frail fog.
Born of goosebump nights are damp morns,
where water falls translucent in the bog.
With a sizzling sound the rain dropped adorns
the lilies in the bog on rheumy morns.
On mountains high the rain falls white disguised
as snow; sun turns snow to ice, down it goes.
In dizzy rounds rain pounds, the sun complies
and all this a high power has composed.
Water disguised is a gift that God's composed.
His rheumy eyes film over and he brushes away a tear
with the age-spotted back of his hand.
He watches himself as a young man –
handsome, vigorous, full of joie de vivre.
The members of his orchestra now arthritic.
Or ashes long since scattered into oblivion,
like the beautiful soprano in the film.
But for the duration of the archive footage
they are all young again.
The film ends and their philharmonic youth
is silent memory once more.
He struggles to press rewind but his gnarled finger
presses fast-forward by mistake.
He thinks that time has been on fast-forward
and wishes he could find the rewind control for his life.
With a sigh, he presses play and fades away,
watching his immortal youth.
his sweet scent of mere love still lives on
I walk, hark nature's moving sounds
carried softly through forest paths
nostalgic scent of rheumy dew grounds.
fleeting dappled somber fingers
unclosing against vast horizon, cause
without orb so nimble lingers.
braids of pain stifle mine madness
loves unavoidable perpetual wink; mine
pate bowed with cherishing sadness
3/17/2021
Beneath, weeping willow you lie supine
lamenting, veneration, muse divine
weakness of mind, love is my illusion
incidental rendezvous, delusion?
my dear, recall our ten idyllic hours
smelt the perfumed air of country flowers
bright your aura, impulsed a dark desire
breathtaking, you captivate and inspire
empath, know me, from marrow to the bone
blue bells hear the daisies whisper, atone
solemn moon, rheumy eyes, opalescent
spectre do tarry with me, you present?
extinguished, I blew out your mortal flame
my unnatural desires were to blame
sleep beauty, keeper of secrets, divine
beneath, weeping willow you lie supine
Placed First with thanks
Dated: 31/07/2019
Theme: My dear
Sponsor: Lu Loo
10 Words: weeping willow, supine, lamenting, veneration, weakness, ten, idyllic, aura, empath, incidental
repugnant racist republican reviled - rickettsia re:itch ruler.
rapaciously ravaged revered reverential rubric.
radical ruthless renegade rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts.
refrains retaining remnant redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights.
ruckus ricochets revenant reign.
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick; render ruinous ramifications.
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.
rabid rectal rictus rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod routing reigning royalty.
reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality.
ride Rolls Royce relentlessly rendering rock ribbing.
riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response.
revisit rancorous restrictive redlined realigned rightward rivets.
robocop ridiculously rubber-stamped reorganization.
recalcitrant reactors release rapture.
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance raconteurs rack rubles.
red room reflects republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory.
rapier robed robbers ransack reliquary resounding retaliation.
retaliatory redcoat regnum reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered rifled relics raffled.
rookie raves ripe rackful rubenesque reliably ranked.
refulgent rotundity requisite requirement re: reappointment.
road-tested, roadworthy redeem reapportion routed role.
reprehensible reassignment rapidly recognizes response.
rife rampage removes respectability - respect.
responsible roused restitution refuted.
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway railroad reverberates rivalry.
reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization.
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
requisition requires resilient reseeding republic.
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
rare recount restoring recondite renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives rejoice reclaiming reins
registering retarded romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!
Madame Sosostris, the leaves are running away
With the springtime wind, into the University café,
Mr. Scogan, what prophesy of apocalypse do you bring?
The grass smells oh! so fresh and green
Budded with cupidity and sin,
In shadow behind the lamp,
Tent pitched beneath a Portabello mushroom,
On your ear lobe is that an earring?
These mushrooms grow in the air from Hamadan,
While you examine a cemented palm print
On the footwalk of Stars embedded in archaic senility,
What, after all, is your Machiavellian plan?
Eye huge behind the magnifying glass,
Sinister, these fates of March,
‘Perhaps there is something in it after all’
Otherwise, why have the cacti mutated so?
We cannot help but oversimplify,
Decimation follows the metric system,
Is uniform, total and immediate,
Decimation does in turn itself mutate.
Ashes radiate ashes to create a wasteland
Shrunken ovaries, ululating uterus
As rheumy eyes keep shrewd watch for the Holy Grail
On a spec of dust in the universe.
My nothe ith sthopped up and I can't respthire
My lungths are congeshted and all afire
My eyeths are rheumy and red
Perthspiration floods my bed
Merthy Lord! I think I'm gonna exthpire
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Righths Retherved
First Place in Gwendolyn's " The Sneezing Limerick" Contest - January 2012
Closed the door…
locked it tight
For the final time
and then no more…
Gazed all about
At the yard…
The flowers…
Where I spent
So many happy hours
and now would spend
no more
The Oleanders
at driveways end
Lantanas blooming
Now as then
Our yellow Roses
Wilted now
Like wrinkled brow
Of ol’ cherished friend
The Mulberry tree
Now old and wizened
Once tall and straight
Just like me
A bit time worn
Of late
Shrug of shoulders
Heavy sigh
Tears course freely
Down my cheek
Long last look
From misty eyes
Once strong body
Now grown old and weak
A chapter of life closes with
the closing of a car’s door
One last glance back
From o’er my shoulder
One long last look…
And then…no more
Small comfort in the knowing
That while chapters
weave and wend
The story just keeps growing
Because stories really
Have no end
For some strange reason
My mind wanders
I wonder what…
Rainbows sound like
as the past rolls past
my rheumy eyes
Then I realize
That Rainbows also
Have no true end
And neither
…do our lives…
I come in from the rain before I catch a cold --
No matter what science says, I have experience!
Once I thought facing down a draft rather bold
With age I have started trusting commonsense.
No matter what science says, I have experience,
And I have found that sneezes come with damp
With age I have started trusting commonsense,
Colds never came while I lay under a heating lamp.
And I have found that sneezes come with damp
After being rain-soaked and chilled to the bone,
Colds never came while I lay under a heating lamp
Not while I lay in the sunlight on a warm beach prone.
After being rain-soaked and chilled to the bone
My nose always started stuffing up and running
Not while I lay in the sunlight on a warm beach prone,
My discovery of this truth I think is not cunning.
My nose always started stuffing up and running
Eyes got rheumy, and I felt so completely crappy,
My discovery of this truth I think is not cunning
And so, coming in from the rain makes me happy.
Eyes got rheumy, and I felt so completely crappy,
Once I thought facing down a draft rather bold
And so, coming in from the rain makes me happy
I come in from the rain before I catch a cold!
Written May 8, 2022
Cavernous warehouse filled to the rafters
With all of my memories; forgotten laughter
Boxes unmarked, heavily taped, a dusty cluttered mess
Haphazard narrow walkways disappear into the dark abyss
Before I came to this wretched place…
Horrid, medicinal, cloying reek meant only to replace
The stench of slowing dying, tormented oblivious souls
With nothing left but ruined bodies growing old
Before I was connected to every nuance of life and time
Quick to answer, practiced whit, and wisdom so sublime
Then my faculties were stolen; no longer able to connect
With simple tasks and simpler thoughts; only distant regret
Yet helpless to light the fires of what I needed most
With, you’ll have to forgive me…all of these old ghosts
If only time is kind and my few lucid moments don’t betray
I have some business to attend to before I go away
Within this darkened warehouse I search with rheumy eyes
For the precious engraved golden tin; inside it holds my prize:
His well-worn wrinkled picture, for years it’s been misplaced
Finally I see the golden tin amidst the gloom of this space
As I reach to gently cradle his memory within my gnarled hands
Unkempt hairs stick to my face in tangled matted strands
I trace his lovely youthful face, his precious loving grin
Without him I have been so lost; a prisoner within
The present seems so oppressive
Without the will to live
My body quickly failing, but now I fear no more
For I have found a fragment of the girl I was before
And at the very end, fate has been so kind
To replace his memory within my heart and fragile broken mind
Now I will go to meet my beloved and leave this frail place
To gain his presence once again and behold his lovely face
All of this confusion and despair to ever leave behind
And I will meet him at the gate; his wonderful grin to match in kind.
I turn and run down to the wet places where fawns remedy their
thirst from the waterbrooks. Panting, I fall to my knees and gather buttercups,
crowsfoots, hellebore and peonies and grind the crimson, white, yellow and
purple petals atop a stone. I brush the crushed blossoms into a straight trumpet
with my fingertips and dip out water from a brook with my cupped palm to mix the
elixir in the lily. As I lean over the small stream, brooding and pining away, I catch
a glimpse of my reflection below, only to notice the looming of a narcissus
beside my visage.
Then, I hear a song of coos go out to my love, and I turn about in
fear when I see the bobolink migrating. So, in a pledge of hope and trust toward
her, I knot the golden chain she gave me hanging around my neck. Thus, hasting
through the field of flowers, my lovelorn heart pounds as I run back to her.
Though she's slipping away, her ruddy color is unfaded, so I anxiously give her
the medicinal draft. Some spills over her milky teeth and rosy cheeks in rivulets,
while the remainder goes down within. I observe. All the snowdrops fall. The
buckthorns rustle. The central flowers in their clusters bloom, then all the
clusters open.
I stretch out upon my love mouth to mouth and breast to breast.
The potion stimulates her heart, and I feel her flesh warm under mine. Her
wounds heal. Now my love lies breathing, strengthened and embraced in my
arms; in our flower bed weeping aloud, we rise and clasp hands and dance
rings around the roses to my rheumy serenade.
The tide is coming.
Rheumy eyes lost on the horizon. Misting, over half memories.
Vera Lynn keeping us firmly in the past. Time in the present ever shorter.
Flask piping hot, burnt lips. Lunch heartily eaten.
Talk of family long-gone and family non-existent. Half finished sentences.
Singing until hoarse, oblivious of time and place.
Home before dusk or enter a world of anxiety and confusion.
The tide is gone.
I shall miss Sundays.
Cut To The Chase...And Tan Hat Man!
Though reading horror stories (macabre),
an only every now and again
genre crazy wave
washing over me like
a killer tsunami,
(subsequently fueling
desperation) to save
thine scrawny ****,
(a derriere laughing stock,
and hence cheeky of me to rave),
those rare occasions satiated, when
hung over insomnia heavily bulging,
rheumy myopic blood shot eyes
nonetheless lock into
critical opening sentence determining,
whether adroit kingly author
nimbly setting the stage and pave
ving what thenceforth, pro
misses tubby a cell out ace
in the hole captive audience
(me, this apt pupil), doth brace
himself (by all counts once
a bad little kid) deserving, well...now...
just a bag of bones,
who fiendishly cackles
when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like),
whereat after opening sentence, an instantaneous
possessive gnarly hand
forcibly grabs my attention
presaging and frightening
yours truly (juiced in case
ye did not know),
where within the bazaar
of bad dreams epic,
which seems like forever,
when I finally erase
and exorcise the bogeyman who,
masterfully, immediately,
dramatically got woven
lady chattery teeth and all
withering wicked warp and woof
establishing (proof positive),
an excellently crafted
Chiral Mad heavily shades
of night are falling
gussying haunting place,
where the color of evil permeates
every cerebral space
with darkness, said
sub rosa prime evil punctuates
the mind this dream catcher,
whence after four past midnight
the reaper's image appears
sending adrenaline rush,
viz flight or fight blind
did, when firestarter alarm didst grind
passage of time manifesting dark forces
blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined
up battleground formation
from the borderlands of my mind
this even before turning
the first page where the eyes
of drag'n my afterlife shined!
A needle: a small, thin object
with a sharp point that mends
our open wounds.
Sewing needles are polished
and used by seamstresses
to keep our clothes
stitched and tailored.
Acupuncture needles,
a traditional remedy believed
to heal the body and mind.
Fresh scented pine trees
bow through summer and winter,
fall and spring.
These needles are survivors,
they never sleep.
But, the needle you preferred
produces only
unanswered questions,
tears and disarray.
When the needle
punctured your skin,
its venom sprinted
through your bloodstream,
freeing your endorphins
in a dance inside your brain.
Your body rattled, eyes twisted,
you descended into
a self-constructed euphoria.
You settled in dwellings
the needle provided,
dishonest, dead and rheumy eyed
as you chased your magical dragon
to ease that unfathomable pain,
time slipped by you
and like a crook in black,
life faded away.
A boy of six or seven,
asleep on a ruined mattress,
in a home abandoned.
A son; your blood and kin.
His eyes flutter open,
to see you at rest on a chair
beside the window frame,
No clouds or shine,
no moon nor stars;
no emotion, no hesitation;
Only you, his protector,
thrusting
that needle into your
vein.
Radiance
A radiant being
descended upon
her old home
today,
The place where
she grew up –
---
Sunlight,
filtering through
slats
& faded window shades,
Brightens
& shines more clearly
as she passes,
bringing
contented purrs and stretches
to the aged
and bony cats
who lie aslumber
in the path
of the warming,
dappling rays
---
Dear Old Dog, quiet
for once,
wags her tail,
a friendly question
sparkling
in her tired, rheumy eyes,
her grey paws
dancing,
young again
for a shining, vaporous moment
(— Oh, yes, and I
like you too,
my very dear, I
like you, too! —)
---
This radiant being
brought contentment
to her birthplace
today,
& left it
brighter
than the stars
---
Dear Old Dog’s
asleep now,
wearing moonlit strips
and dreaming,
While the erstwhile slumberous
ancient cats
awake
to quest the night
And radiance
remains