Best Shafted Poems
We need to send a message for Washington to hear
We need to make a statement and make it loud and clear
Leave rigs double parked in every town
Come on truckers. Shut it down
Block the highways. Set your course.
Show our politicians a united force
Politicians! While you're kissing babies remember this
We've got something you can kiss
We wanted a leader. We got a clown.
So let's go truckers. Shut it down.
It is time to start sending a message to our OPEC owned and
operated congresss. If you can't stop the oil gougiing prices, we can stop the
entire country. What happens if the last of the American cowboys, the truck
drivers, unite? If they double park their rigs on the interstates all over the country,
unhook them and leave them there? These guys are getting shafted by the same
people who subsidize airlines so the executives can milk the living hell out of it.
Meanwhile, not only the independent, but any small trucking company can't afford
to stay in business. It is time to shut it down
Bobby Aiken was proud to be Scotch.
As a pole-vaulter he was top-notch.
But on one faulty try
he became a soprano guy,
having been poled crack-on in the crotch.
When I awoke this morning
The sunny scape was grand
I realized I'm squatting here
On someone else's land
Someone who for centuries
Had roamed this vast terrain
Mostly uninhabited
In sun and wind and rain
Who cherished all its bounty
The spirits will atest
Who gazed on all its beauty
Their friendship was the best
Owning but belonging to
In perfect harmony
Owing only to the creatures
For sustainability
Someone now who roams no more
Confined by his oppressor
The guest who once was welcome
Your governing aggressor
With water you could walk on
Just no way to strive
Total persecution
A struggle to survive
Residential Schools
The Highway of Tears
Murdered and Missing Women
Count them through the years
I'm pretty sure I bought it
Worked hard all my life
To build our house upon
My children and my wife
Maybe I was shafted
And didn't even know
Maybe they're good at it?
I'm here to tell you so
I won't be satisfied
Til my friends are on the mend
Til we can wander far and wide
But still not even then
When we stand tall and healthy
And proud might do the trick
When we're all looking down on them
And they're all ducking sick
i have crafted and shafted and then re positioned
divulged and indulged to precise disposition
yet frankly my points are most blunt at the end and my walls tend to fall at the slightest of bends
be it not such a bridge but a try at amends, with a friend who is quite hard of hearing
come step in my cauldron both women and children, these are the crimes i admit to both willinging and wildered
For i am the poet of pilgrims ,
what was left has been pillaged and raped, and only i who had managed escape
have been left to rebuild from the timbers
If we could pick a cartoon character
To represent the kind of people we are
I think I'd be lightning Mcqueen
because he's my kind of car.
Powerful and very fast
A paint job of gleaming red
Kind of says I'd be dangerous
and steaming hot in bed .
lol
I know my girlfriend would be a lawyer
and to some that might seem strange
but when Sally and I retired each night
A lawyer would be getting shafted for a change.
Mater would be my perfect friend
Loyal and reliable as good friends ought to be
I would always be there for him
and I know he'd be there for me.
I would listen to Doc Hudson
and the sheriff would get no trouble from me
But if you had to pick a cartoon character
What character would you be?
A Flame Once Burned
The new girl gathered her books as the class bell did ring
That’s when I noticed my heart’s spark began to fling
I followed her to physical Ed
I wanted to say hi but my boldness fled
Shafted by my own lack in doubting
Afraid her truth sparks would be most disheartening
Next to the fire extinguisher the cafeteria door I did wait
Fueling flame of passion my thoughts which did innovate
I spied her and lingered the more inflamed
But the bow’s arm she tightly did clang
Sadly diminished my heart’s heaping flame
I stood at the door as she and he did pass
This flame which once burned seemingly did not last
Sadden and chard what had flamed so brightly
I bowed my head to walk away drably
But oh, I now gaze upon a most delightful redhead
Perhaps the flame again for her could instead
By Mark A. Goodson
12/3/12
A dangerous job
Shafted as hearts collapse in
Into energy bleed
I sipped blue coffee in the morning,
Eyes twitching against bright screens by nine.
The sound of the ocean from the basement office...
The problem is I'm lost in caves.
I try to connect the strand these days but I'm lurking
In and out of caverns of shafted light,
Marked memories.
This is a waterfall that cascades into each day,
Like those Dutch windmills
That carry buckets of water round and round
And then suddenly it's the evening and you're terrified
Of being found.
Though that's what you wanted the whole time.
And at the onset of the night fog you walk soldier-like
Through hush colors while half-closing doors,
Too alert to go to sleep.
Light moves, incessantly
Incessantly still, upon observation
Upon observation, the observer is drawn lightly upon the background
Who is the observer, or the observed
Its path is straight and narrow, but fills all
Dark space it does not penetrate, would not exist without it
Dark space it does not penetrate, will someday see its shafted faces, peering, through
The cracks of time
Pure potential
Lacking will, it achieves all
Achieving all, it needs no will
Man, the slow light
With a quick heartbeat
When light and man
Meet
It is the contrast of ourselves
Shines
Mind The Mines
Deep in the pits he digs with no miner’s lamp in hand to lighten the grime
‘alight’ whisper diminishing grips from the edge of bored winzes whence
the shafted canary slowly progresses towards breathless suffocation
Fists in anger palms and realms blistered oozing from purulent scratches
surface subdued in labyrinth’s mazes wretched wrenched and perplexed
An ossuary with bones and fragmented ember of mental contention crushed
seduced by toxic waters confronting the essence and one final leap for the void
Then buried yet glimmering a candle flickers to shine and gold dust blows
the canary and the miner a kiss of life so that Orpheus finds solace in realisation
that shadows and light must be married for a way in and way out to emerge
26th November 2016
Invisible to the eye
he sat
visible to the sky
he sat
the stars opened up
and there was no light
and he felt empty
he felt so empty
Mute to the ear
she sat
slave to her fear
she sat
the stars opened up
and there was no light
and she felt whole again
she felt so whole
Against their will
they met
upon the window-sill
they met
the stars opened up
and there was no light
with each other to lean on
they felt so shafted
I'm just an old shovel, who loved spooning around
Scooping up and over again, the same old ground
I’ve handled jobs, few others would call profound
Always piling high, and patting down a big mound
Some folks leaned on me, if no seats to be found
Then gave me a shoulder, when homeward bound
When on the scrap heap, I never made one sound
Got shafted damn good... but, I’m on the rebound
The scencelessness
Of unscentered
Aromatic sounds
Sussurational smoke
Key ness obfuskates
Obvious lee unsanitized
Thoughts – fill blank your
Self less lee shellfish
A float buzzes buy
Bye dove egg sun
Shy lull a buyer
Was here, lost
What plot there wasn’t
A thing she couldn’t
Undo festooned
Out go the unlit
Lights in side in
Tell a gentle man
Up the down
And outside spout
Gushed gobble
Dee me a racist?
Indiscriminal
Maybe, for sure
Screw me up
More, good unlucky
You won’t unsee
I ever showed
A neutrino stank
Elevator shafted
Son, turn back
Bee’s foretold
Exstinktion smells.
29th May, 2016
INTO YOUR EYES
To look into your eyes
is to see passions unfolding...unspoken
but felt
like gossamer clouds,
sensed
like transparent breezes,
thought
like golden shafted arrows flying
from your heart into my soul.
Thoughts
deep...penetrating.
Forever thoughts of love
unspoken...but revealed
with every look into your eyes.
the very tip of the flame, the
color of shite journalism, “stars
of spectral classes f & g,” a ripe
banana peel, piss full of vitamins
being flushed out, ring around the
collar, chats n’ shafted flickers n’
hammers n’ warblers, emma stone’s
locks prior to her better known dye-
jobs, charlize’s natural locks known
to all moviegoers, lemons, ducks
when portrayed in rubber form at a
county fair, a pedestrian-crossing
street sign, lilium, yellow
chrysanthemums, oenothera,
this color cake is one step in making
a nuke, for the maya it meant
southward, donovan made a killing
with his mellow song addressing it,
a single lamp glowing in a dark room
& echoing visually on the wall,
internationally n’ maritimely this color
flag means the letter “q,” these color
pages used to dominate ones’ ability to
give someone a ring, goldenrod, ½ of a
bumble bee’s color in total, the sun rising
in a clear sky’s early morn.