Best Shut In Poems
Winter whitewashes Autumn's decay,
and yet, you hope that Spring will soon show.
But, as snowflakes bury Fall's array,
depression deepens with each fresh snow.
Snow-laden trees, like sculptures of clay;
stand exposed, chiseled by a sharp breeze.
And stenciled in statuary grey,
outstretched fingers of bare branches freeze.
A brisk breeze wrestles your breath away,
in the grip of an unyielding cold.
And muting the sound of children's play,
melancholy thoughts firmly take hold.
A stormy day causes nerves to fray,
as doldrums brood within shadows cast.
And folks speculate on Spring's delay,
damping hopes that this weather won't last.
Purple and scarlet ink the sun's rays,
and yet, sunset chills you to the bone.
For as twilight dims on dreary days,
you feel depressed, shut in, and alone.
Angels are heavenly beings who minister to our needs we are told.
'Tis said they are celestial spirits with wings who play harps of gold.
But I see Angels ministering to others every day here on earth,
And of their tender compassion, love and care there is no dearth!
I saw an Angel yesterday who cleared a widow's drive of snow.
I saw an Angel helping an old gentleman with his back bent low.
I saw an Angel filling a bird feeder on a blustery, winter's day.
I saw an Angel in the park watching over little children at their play.
I saw an Angel who took a shut-in for a drive to view the hues of fall.
I saw an Angel who took a handicapped boy to a professional game of ball.
I saw an Angel preparing a Sunday school lesson for her Bible group.
I saw an Angel at her stove that for a sick neighbor was making soup.
I saw an Angel who simply held the hands of one who had suffered loss.
I saw an Angel playing with his dog with a little ball that he would toss.
I saw an Angel reading a book to an older man who was losing his sight.
I saw an Angel who visited a lonely inmate in prison the other night.
I saw an Angel who was being deployed to uphold the freedoms we hold dear.
I saw an Angel left behind to tend their family alone for an anxious year.
I've seen Angels ministering among us every day upon this earth,
And of their tender compassion, love and care there is no dearth!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
In July, the monsoon rains pound our land.
After several days of torrential downpour,
When the rain withdrew for an interim,
With the afternoon turning suddenly sunny,
Being shut in the house for days,
I couldn’t control my urge to roam.
Exactly a day before, I had bought a white T- shirt
I twisted it and tied it here and there
Dipped it in rainbow colors,
With shades of blue predominating.
Though it was my first amateur attempt,
Was proud of the outcome.
A swirl of blue-
A splash of red and crimson-
In strange circular patterns,
No two looking alike, each quite unique.
After drying it in the sun for some time,
I folded it and kept it aside.
I was eager to put it on while going out.
When wearing it, my mother said-
“In your tie and dye T-Shirt
You look a peacock in strut feathers”
Proudly wearing my casuals,
I went out on my scooter.
Street children admiringly looked at me.
Smart l was in a splash of colors!
How quick was the change of weather,
Soon rain began pouring down.
It soaked me through and through.
When I reached home,
I was like the cunning Fox of the folk lore
That got dipped in a pail of blue…!
No one was there to hail me King
I withdrew to the bathroom,
To wash myself clean!
You cannot sleep, you tell me
spitting forth frustration
angry sentiments of a scorned heart
Your dreams are robbed
You have been ridiculed
all day
in a world where
You don’t quite understand the rules
every word you spoke today was the wrong one
You crossed lines unknowingly
doors were shut in your face doors
of opportunity
fame
Your love and passion
which you felt was real
was mocked—
so you cannot put away such thoughts
You come to me frowning, heated
seeking sympathy
But son,
you are young
you know not what ropes
truly bind the soul
what thoughts throttle the heart
in the darkness of night
you have been betrayed, deceived
by strangers amongst whom
you sought fortune and acknowledgement
but this, I tell you
is no shame, no grief
you have not felt the cuts
of those you thought dearest
those you thought you knew
that hair those lips those eyes that heart
now coloring and darting away
leaving icy holes
in your chest
you know not yet
that the curse of a sleepless night
does not burn with anger
it is cold, so cold
and so lonely
So say not another word now
and go
Go
you may sleep in peace
for you are not a father.
The restless mind needs a break
I wait and seek my tired berate
She slowly climbs into my mind
And cowardly reminds me of her kind
She lights a fire from within her sin
It starts so small and the vision begins
My eyes now shut in pondering stare
My cries now out while I feel her near
The web she weaves into my spine
Allows deceit to spin around
She climbs onto my visions of proud
And lays her eggs to spawn out loud
They seek and slither into my brain
Allowing the light to cause searing pain
I cry for her to stop her vein
She laughs and spins her web again
For hours this battle sees no end
Our scours believe their harm will mend
As she relieves my mind of torn
Her pain turns to numb my mind is born
A new
A new
She dies within you
Last night I slipped into an introspective dream
witness of a strange extracorporeal experience
the whole me deconstructed to its raw materials
Dead myself was found a bright day
and lay nude on a table counter
on a top floor balcony of an unknown city
I was there, the eyes of a stranger
contemplating my naked body
my appealing erogenous zones
arms and legs leaning on the sides
motionless ribs and chest protruding
my eyelids shut in serenity, the wooden expression
So detached from the soulless body
at first I couldn’t clearly recognize
the element that linked me to the dream
Insignificant who owned the corps before
lands of a new perspective are here for me to explore
small part of the primal knowledge revealed to me
Mystified by compassion and moral obligation
for the helpless body does not deserve
unprotected to lie under the opal rays of the city sun
uncovered to repose in the cold night winds
exposed to random spectators’ judgement
abandoned, without a soul. Was I the owner of that body?
Rushing in agony and the countdown of time
Was I there to save my body from unworthy decay?
Do I have the power to drag it inside the room?
it was a drastic solution as I looked around
there onwards, undisturbed, I would organize the next step
the certainty of predestination supported by aloof composure
Helping hands’ astounding substance
a crystal liquid energy in transparent gloves instead of skin
repeated attempts to lift up my lifeless body
oh I was extremely heavy, impossible to move
an overrated effort in an eerie cloud of panic and the gravity
a deafening whack then awkward pulls dragging me on the floor
There I woke up, as one.
The flames licked my arms
But I did not stir
The spring breeze sent the curtains flying
And the golden rays burst in and set everything afire
The light punched its way into the room
It knocked into the shelves that wept in silence
Book spines instantly faded
Then pages were ablaze, incinerated
It left bruises on the carpet
Whose dust rose up with the breeze
It danced with the fringes on the bedclothes
Making shadows ripple across the empty space before the pillows at my feet
The air sent ripples up my arms
And I gasped at its touch
Curved into the corner of the farthest wall,
I glared at the light seeking me out
It scratched its fingers into every crack and crevice
And fractured against my lonely reflection
Blasting shards of glittering light across the walls
It was sniffing me out
It could smell the darkness on me
Daring to touch my withered skin
Yearning to warm my sunken face
The curtains shifted the shadows on the walls
And finally its eyes befell me
The golden rays found me at last
They clawed through the hair that clung at my face
Stretched forth and stabbed at my eyes
But I clenched them shut in fear I’d go blind with sight
I transformed myself into the wall
Curled up inside its weakened shadow
The golden rays licked at my arms
But I did not stir
The bright flames seared my skin
But I let it burn
I have been
A shut in and shut out
Kicked in and kicked out
Strung up and strung out
Sore thumb that's stuck out
I'm not a saint or girl scout
But I've cut ink and bled out
Mi vida loca like "Blood In Blood Out"
And each one I've wrote about
Knowing at least I'm not a sell out
This is the therapy of my soul shout!
I'm not looking for a handout
Persuading you I have clout
I do this for me…
If this you ever do doubt
Then you can kick rocks and get the hell out
Had enough of fear of shock and awe, so let me say something now
Lest I get stifled of shut in, let there be some opening somehow
The fish of mind keeps growing in the ocean of thoughts moment to moment
By closing thought process how can you let it survive even for a moment?
It maybe good to wine and dine and have a good sleep
But anyone who’s devoid of concern is just like a sheep
You sold your freedom of body and mind just to feed yourself
You knifed your mind enough; let body suffer some pang itself
What little breath I have left is being spent
choking on tears that I have held for too long.
But a lid keeps me shut in here
in a glass jar
where she locked me away.
She collects broken dolls
and stores them where
their souls pour out and fill up their containers.
She, who claims her victims, stares down at me
Without her, I may not last out there
where she found me twisted and torn open
and struggling to breathe.
When she finds another broken doll,
She will keep them safe
They will be locked away and sealed inside a jar
and just like me, they will convince themselves that they’re better off
Maybe one day, I’ll find myself laying in
broken glass on the floor.
like a warm breath of air,
he hovers in my memory.
no Superman in other’s eyes,
a meek soul, but for me a true legend.
he was a jack of all trades.
he epitomized love and gentleness.
hard-working and committed to his family,
he was not one to squander his time.
he toiled day in and out
to feed those who he loved and sired.
what was he?
a teacher, a farmer, or an artist?
I cannot say precisely...
all I can say;
he was each of these
rolled into one.
I don’t think there was anyone like him around.
he was my English teacher at school,
and how proud I am of all that he taught me.
on holidays I saw him
shut in the loft, a brush in hand,
his fingers moving over the canvas.
the steaming tea by his side,
untouched and getting cold as ice.
unmindful of everything around,
he sat by the easel in the attic.
focused only on the strokes that fell.
when a distinct image shoots out,
as the moon from behind clouds,
a wave of satisfaction would gleam
across his face,
his frantic nerves at once hushed
bearing the look of one
who, in an instant, conquered kingdoms.
he would view it from different angles.
never seek anyone’s opinion
but gloating if he saw
our admiring eyes fell on it.
he was an avid reader too
and a skilled photographer.
the black and white photos
he caught in his camera still adorn our walls.
being artistically inclined,
he lived more in the world of art.
but gradually things changed.
to his fright, he found his hands shaky
and the lines on the canvas
going tremulous and disjointed.
couldn’t hold a brush!
the zealous man grew numb,
as the curtain of years fell on his stage!
on diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease,
his world abruptly lost its sheen.
he saw the disease weeding
its way into his life.
suddenly grown old,
he lost interest in everything.
we saw him sitting in his armchair,
so immobile, for hours on end,
his eyes stretched to a far horizon.
we displayed before him,
paintings once born of his imagination
to see if his world would brighten
and it worked!
recently, in one of my dreams,
I saw him sitting at the feet of Michael Angelo,
to learn the art, he couldn’t perfect
in his lifetime!
Politeness, respect, courtesy
Is something that's so hard to see
When no one takes the time to learn
Theres so much that we can earn
If people would just agree
Its not always about ME
Pay it forward, chain of love
Should fit us all just like a glove
To think of others before you
Is something that we all should do
A friend or stranger can not cope
We can light them up with hope
Listening and taking time
To find out what's been on their mind
Someone who is down or blue
Could use a nice flower or two
Making their day a little brighter
And their troubles so much lighter
Visiting a child who is sick
Will help to make them better quick
From a present you might bring
Or a song you softly sing
A shut in who can not go out
Should know what caring's all about
By bringing them some food to share
Or calming some of their worst fears
A hurting soldier full of pain
Nightmares making him insane
Needs a caring hand to hold
As stories of his life unfold
A stranger can become a friend
Or our savior in the end
If manners showed up more each day
Troubles would just fade away
Humans have long trespassed
and destroyed animal territories
Humans have poached
And selfishly encroached
upon animal habitats
cutting down trees to build
human habitations.
Now the tables have turned
Humans are quarantined in house arrest
while some lie sick in bedrest
So animals not usually seen are having a fields day
roaming upon roads, crossing the streets.
Reclaiming the once jungle lands,
that had been turned into concrete urban jungles.
It's better that busy humans now become photoholic
than forever queueing
in lines of heavy traffic.
Without human pollution,
nature is all the more photogenic
Mother nature all a creation of God
has now had many of us grounded
as she gives us a hiding
while we go into hiding.
Extraordinary turn of events indeed!!
In several countries round the world:
Discos and casinos vacated
Pubs and nightclubs evacuated
Bars shutdown for lockdown
People are behind bars instead of guzzling beer in bars
and instead of animals behind bars.
Humans compelled to hibernate
so animals busted their cell gate
Priorly animals were in an enclosure
Now they are getting free exposure
Self-centred humans cared mostly about themselves
but now the animal kingdom is the cynosure
Animals were shut in cages
and now human activity is under similar closure.
Ah, this corona crisis!
Is all this mercenary stasis
for humans a roasting nemesis?
A heavy price to pay for rapacious carelessness and arrogance
where humans acted like they are in control, like they
are controllers of this planet
and they could do anything they wish with it.
It's ignorance to think all this is mere coincidence.
Im relieved our Islamic prayers can be said any place, anywhere
to kneel and bow to the one true real sustainer of the universe.
We need to invoke and supplicate to the creator
who is still in control...
as prayer can really truly prevent fear and anxiety in such scary times.
"I suddenly realised that coincidence is a word we use when we are ignorant of the real causes." - Albert Salvadó
(I was impressed by the news story in which Kuwait had sent a special plane to Italy to specially evacuate their nationals from there when Italy was heavily stricken with the corona virus)
Love is an action word
It is more than an emotion
We must show love to everyone
Our family, friends, peers, and enemies
We must also show loving-kindness to people we don’t know
By keeping them lifted up in prayer
Love is something that we share
We show we care and we sacrifice
For the Lord and for other people
Love sometimes requires us to put our needs aside to help others
Love makes us want to do our best and be our best so we can help others
Love makes us want to fulfill our destiny and our callings from on high
Love helps us to put with people
Who are obnoxious, rude, or mean
Love makes us have compassion
On the sick, shut-in, and the poor
Love even cares for and prays for those society feels are undeserving
Love covers a multitude of sin and Jesus showed us the greatest love of all by dying on the cross and being raised from the dead three days later
If Christ could sacrifice his life for the world, then we should love God and other people enough to find out our callings and reach those in need
Love is an action word and we need to take that step and love everyone, even those who hurt us in the past or on a regular basis in our daily lives from the bottom of our hearts
In the ancestral call of righteousness
They failed the almighty creator
There in the Forbidden Garden of Eden
Who could tell where the sinful garden is now?
That smal pretty hut where sin began in deceitful manner
Then to the days of brave Noah
And the Sodom and Gomorrah set in immorally like dogs
Which kind world we are, where man is so unkind to mankind?
Doors are shut in mysterious manner then broken aftermath
Women travail in pain whilst men labour
Children are left naked swinging in pain
The footless human snake materialized all this crime
I watched as it hissed and moved about
The ancient curse to mankind in unkindly tongue caused it
Men are so unkind to mankind yet satisfied
So unkind to the universe, our little china doll
Treating her against the will of the creator
The creator wanted us to treat the universe
LIke a fragile creature he had created it to be
But sound of war sounds nearer in the image of Lucifer
Tears streaming down from the eyes of men like river flow
Man unkind to mankind, things sway and fall apart
Rolling, turning like the sun round the earth
We catch new birds each day tempted by their hips
Babies now know the distance of the journey at back
Corruption dwell and feast bread with men, blood shed
Forget not the world wars, forget not homosexuality
Remember masturbation, remember child abuse, same sex marriage
The righteous tattoos on human bodies
The death of Abel in the bleeding ground
Remember, remember, the ransom of the only son
Of what profit is wickedness anyway when sand we return?
Beautiful image of the deceiver paying tribute to mankind
Why man is unkind to mankind?
I smile not here as evil generate in our world
When would mankind problems be solved?
Is it after the messiah comes?
Pretty look betray pretty smiles
Evil has overshadowed righteousness and
Man unkind to mankind