Best Stockpile Poems
When my knitting queen aunt
Feels that needlework pull,
She starts knitting some squares
Using leftover wool.
They’re rectangles, really,
With colorful stripes,
Their patterns and stitches
Of similar types.
Then when there are enough,
Using needle and thread,
She will sew them together
To cover a bed.
If no blanket’s requested
By someone she knows,
To a charity’s stockpile
That handiwork goes.
Though some unattached pieces
My aunt did produce
Found their way to my granddaughter
For a new use.
Now her dolls all have blankets,
Two interests in sync,
Crossing ages and miles
In such a sweet link.
"The Book According to St Lovejoy 1:3 (Part 1)"
1. 3’s the Number so here we’ll commence
I’ll start moving while the non-believers
sit on their fence
A very little known Chapter, part of a
most significant Book
all the stories are written with 3 in mind
Locked in a cupboard
that’s gone missing
the big split in the spine
indicates it’s unique in it’s position
lost in fractured time
with stories spilling out between the many pages
hidden under a stockpile of
thick dust somewhere
won’t be missed in antiquity, nowhere
but has travelled so far
through canals its words cerebral
all swimming down a tight viscous
river of blood tar
out to that Sea, the Ocean
Life
perpetuating life another chapter arrives
into the world screaming,
it breathes
in this Book there are always 3
for reading, not pleasure, somehow the
chapters have all gone missing from
the Family Tree.
2. Another Peter became Simon
fished the Sea for his mother
he had a story in his chapters
that required slow
then swift delivery defied
the story of bittersweet childhood all
bottled up with a note, he threw into her ocean
but she’d already stepped onto the boat
down the Styx River
to meet God the Father,
Son and Holy Ghost.
Or so she thought.
Two fathers missing, two mothers host
but 3 is the number that will impresses
us the most
An unread story,
stolen delivery the Peter-Simon Creed
Nicene said before sleep to transport him away,
the other the piano self-taught
played his own keys
sang all the pain away
both abused not believed
seekers of retribution
now lost off course by several degrees
drowning in misery
one was down on his knees
LUX VITAE he said, this is my shield
he walks through the Light,
the Light is his Guide you see
the other looks for release
past his muster time, walks round and round
the sharp corners of his mind,
a small locked room
lying there supine
next to the sea,
he edits his story vigorously
before he signs his contract
by Her Majesty’s Final Decree.
(Lovejoy-Burton/2017 Dec)
The The - "Soul Mining"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkzwnBqjRYg
February winds pound the siding scattering sand left by the snow plows through the gray angry air. The house seems full of small noises and little else. The cat has taken up his guard post in his rug-covered tree house and purrs in tune with the ping of the hot water pipes. Even the dust has settled.
empty chairs
surround a guestless table:
I stand cup in hand
Scanning the tidy kitchen with its Wedgewood-blue counters and rustic farm-scene border, I note, the cabinets need a good rubdown. Murphy’s Oil in hand I approach the oak with determination, and a soft pink flannel rag. The scent of lemon oil, crisp and clean, wafts past my nose. With great care, I climb a gingerbread chair to reach the highest cabinets over the stove. I balance, praying the seat cushion doesn’t slide out from under my feet. Opening the double doors, I view a stockpile of holiday décor, now unused. There below the paper Easter Eggs, I see them and a tear comes to my eye. Empty now, decades old, of all different sizes, red satin boxes, Valentine Hearts, forgotten.
disturbed dust
floats past my eyes:
the clock bongs once
First Published in haibun Today Fall 2013
Two squirrels gathering nuts and foraging in the woods.
Scurrying about sniffing and prodding things weren't looking to good.
A storm was a coming so frantically they searched.
All the while an owl looked on watching on his branch perch.
He being the wisest of all the creatures spoke and said to the squirrels.
"Quit going so fast the things you need are over by the farmers barrels."
The little ones listened and went to the barnyard.
Seeing this opened barrell they saw kernels of corn scattered around in discard.
Excited they accomplished there task of gathering, rushing to an fro they had a stockpile.
Almost an hour later they were set for the winter it would last a long time.
Thanking the owl bellies full strored food for the winter they were ready to hibernate.
All was well the food for the family secured the chilling winter they would escape.
Stockpile a idea we should learn from the insects, critters, they store to survive.
They see a brighter future for their species they are truly alive.
How about you? Carnal man do you think ahead? Do you save?
Do you store blessings from your Creator following His laws and strive to behave?
Our faith, hope, and dreams allow "us" to have a choice and scurry to find God's edicts?
Stockpiling "Blessings" in the book of life you can give your life a spiritual gift.
Even the squirrels know when it is time to stockpile even though they run only on instinct.
Carnal man can reason animals can't, who is smarter the animals or man, it is very distinct.
Imagination of my heart, be still
Is it not true that thoughts define our world?
And bring to light obscurities that thrill.
For in the mind, new ideas are unfurled.
Genesis, like Einstein’s Relativity,
Embrace complex concepts still swirled.
Religious beliefs seek sanctity,
The pursuit of truths proposes questions.
Imagination sees ambiguity.
Theories evolve, offering solutions.
Discrepancies in the mind’s eye revile.
Daydreams and fantasies launch suggestions.
Within the brain collected thoughts stockpile.
And the heart of imagination stays.
Therein lies progression’s basic beguile.
Knowledge and true belief soon parting ways,
That brings us to the heart of imagination.
Are hope, truth, and peace lost in latter days?
Has the brain become man’s great coronation?
The crowning point too often worn askew.
Sometimes men thrive, beneath domination.
The heart of imagination breaks through.
It is not found imbibing happy pills.
It is found in the woodlands or a coo.
Imagination seeks God’s foreordained will.
For it was set at life’s ordination.
It is the brightest view within man’s thrill!
Be still, heart of my imagination.
My faith combines with facts to find this truth.
Man like beast was formed by God’s creation.
All…discerning Heaven’s declaration –
November 8, 2014
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Challenge Title 'Words - The Heart of Imagination?' - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Brian Johnston
birth, creation, dark, death, earth, history, metaphor
OUTSIDE-IN---INSIDE OUT! © TANKA
Very green flushed carpets
Sky blue azure topped ceilings
Tree branched sofa chairs
Mirror sea rippling four walls
Windows and doors shut!
REBIRTH! © TANKA
Infant birthing new
Into mankind-likened modes
Start fresh from homed sights
Cultured to suckle blind
On natures ‘tested’ recollected notes
Left ‘one on one’ in thought sense!
Earth’s Time Shares © TANKA
Earth imploding ‘noted’
Fished from science scales to date
Attention everyone
Demise for man’s brutal act
Shrinks to pin-head size!
MARKED SPACES! © TANKA
Caterwauling winds
Float the once settled landfills
Forming 'blocks' of sand
Balanced on set place-mats
Dwindle down to nothings.
A LITTLE SALT PLEASE! © TANKA
Salt beds remain ‘still’
Air-dried salt mines reap
Sea tides, air-dried onto land
Leave the needed salt shares
Flavour 'salted' dressings over time
Enhance life’s food plate!
FORMIDABLE THOUGHT! © TANKA
Too many thoughts stockpile
Hanging words staged 'left'
Rehashed until spent
Sending 'mood-eating’ topics
To announce ‘inner’ moon ‘tides’!
work
SHARED AIMS! © TANKA
Unity bids man
Into work managed mindsets
Oiling the forces ‘toil’
Producing metal and brawn
Empires bleed open!
SET STRIDES © TANKA
Brain building 'strides' learnt
Leg and body builds in time
All in a heady breath count
Balanced events mate
Affecting lifespan!
yea tis history - that end gin shelled a mesh by mit Romney wailin
such below figurative belt mortar attack subterfuge and constant railin
per accusations hurled at barack Obama presidential campaign
lobbed like scud missile grenades from invisible hand no longer m palin
in comparison and hence moot point for republicans to gain
so this joe of a voter re-fused 2 bide time 2 prevent candidate from failin
app laud clinched 2nd term deserved and occupy white house seat a gain
intent i wanna talia 2 acknowledge salient tactics to boost usa now ailin
sasha bravado blasting and gunning futile fusillades
which questionable oppositional stealth indiscriminately fired pell mell
to discredit supreme commander in chief an exemplary persona in the main
such desperate toothless and nail biting tactics
replete with political retaliatory slanderous stockpile bombardment
but rather, he opts to build fracking rainbow coal bridges 2 somewhere
over the rainbow toward future with his omnipotent time tested girders
of righteousness and gravitas quite simple and plain
casting confidence that the democrats rank as the robust strongest train
eclipsing her livid burst of 15 minutes fame that briefly wax than wane!
Let's melt down all the plastics that will not biodegrade
and form some giant ice floes to replace the ones God made
so Polar bears will have somewhere to sit and sleep and stand
instead of getting persecuted when they come inland.
Lets crush unwanted bottles down and grind them into ice-
like crystals, line the kerbs with them, hey that'd look quite nice,
a safety feature for the roads that aren't lit well at night
and visually cool rivers of car reflected light.
For all the stuff mankind discards that uglifies the land
the answer is an easy one, and really close to hand
compress it and then pack into flasks, all concrete lined
and stack it in the empty shafts of all the disused mines.
And in the meantime let's change attitude, and though it might seem rough
but if we were less greedy then we wouldn't stockpile stuff
the latest craze, the new gadget to keep up with your friends
not thinking when it's obsolete just where on Earth it ends
so let man learn a lesson from the stupid things he did
and give a fighting chance toward the future for our kids.
10th June 2015
For competition 'Stuff' sponsored by Thomas Martin
flower, god, rain, spring, winter, dance, birth, sunshine,
GRIPPING ROOTS © TANKA
Birds chirp spring’s sunshine
Rain showers the ground outdoors
Plants begin to grow
Gripping roots draw nourishment
Mother Nature's weathered gifts!
Coats Of Snow © Tanka
Pure white coats stockpile
And cold shouts a freeze
Daylights sunshine glare
Early moonbeam blights a kissing
And dance the night time sky!
THE GOD PHOENIX RISES! © Tanka
In Arabian ash
Half a centuries' time
Beauteous ‘Phoenix’ ashes lay
For five hundred years
Ageing in Arabian soil
Will rise awake sentence-free!
Two million soles collected
One million souls lost
Can humanity recover,
From the holocaust?
This stockpile of shoes
Is a reminder and clue
That what happened to them
Could happen to you.
Auschwitz reminds us
Of man’s inhumanity to man
If we can forget
It can happen again.
Entry in the Leather Voices contest
this paean to the place name sans title of poem actually mooch oh years decades? ago, when my youngest sister began her decades long residence along the Pacific Northwest.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
county seat, of Mason County, Washington, United States
westernmost city on Puget Sound above ground sans tectonic plates
population 9,834 per 2010 census end result from biological mates
maintains commission form of government drafted by mandates.
Shelton served by small steamboats comprising Puget Sound Mosquito Fleet
Old Settler, Irene, Willie, City of Shelton, Marian, Clara Brown, & S.G. Simpson
logging, farming, dairying, ranching & oyster cultivation for populace to eat
Simpson Timber Company mill on Puget Sound's Oakland Bay over yon
dominates landscape of the downtown area as essential heart beat
Shelton identifies the "Christmas Tree Capital" sold by the ton.
47°12'49?N 123°6'22?W (47.213702, -123.106088)
coordinates bench mark
total area of 5.9 square miles (15 km2),
of which 5.6 square miles (15 km2) land
0.3 square miles (0.78 km2) (5.60%) water laps
with an occasional errant shark
in a pinch captured, processed and canned
a delicacy that fin de siecle bony illegal booty
fined by the oceanic narc.
well nigh two decades in the past
this poet trekked across America beginning in a place called gap
pennsylvania - where stockpile of Amish goodies barely did last
and vanished in a gingerly snap
of fingers, which necessitated sustenance when van fueled i.e. gassed
up while myself or the other driver stole a short nap
seduced to sleep by syncopated tires as highway miles passed
inching closer to youngest sister via this linear transcontinental lap
destination Seattle Washington indigenous iconic statue cast.
Ronald Strickland a fine companion and boone story teller to boot
about my age (five decades plus two) then trying to rake in some loot
by writing about his travels, yet unpretentious and no square at root
perhaps one day, I will surprise him with a call and give him a toot.
Conservative View of taxation:
A prehensile grab
from an authoritarian patriarchal government
to steal from my short-term stockpile
of self-aggrandizing cash.
Progressive View of taxation:
A GoldenRule government-issued invitation
to cooperatively invest in our shared short-term
and long-term health and safety future.
Moses challenged Conserving-Progressive FreedomPeople
to never forget
we have escaped the bonds of patriarchal plutocratic Egyptian grabbing
from our bourgeois and formerly enslaved Chosen Egos.
We are now both Governor and Governed,
cooperatively incorporated,
economically progressing our ego-conservationing
of health and safety ecopolitical outcomes.
Conservative View of health and safety:
Good for all,
but, when push comes to economic shove,
best for me to hoard
against an Egyptian militaristic day.
Progressive View of health and safety:
Of course we are always WinWin-only cooperative geopolitical players
of and for Earth's regenerativity.
So, we are happy to pay our taxes,
but we would be even happier if these would co-invest
in Earth's climate health and safety,
EarthTribe's regenerative health and safety,
as Ego's bicameral co-empathic trust
in our GoldenRule cooperative
Exodus into our Beloved Promise Land
of eco-integrity.
Fork in the road which I remove to eat my eggs.
MIssing ketchup for my sandwich on the city museum steps.
A beggars not a beggar when he leaves an finds his way a secret clothing stockpile; he changes an he walks away replaced by truly needs it, Now I'm feeling full but tainted.
Sights, . wanting to eat the rabbit food. The masses jam their corpses with meat; I feel my body unsupported an my mind a haze.
I'm glad I made the right choice despite that no ones amazed. At least it happened before the last day.
At least I know for me it's the right way.
For me I see the maze; no hope.
still I stay.
To sit or stan, or eat or pray, but ever after wait and stay.
The right choice under a sky of grey.
Hidden gastronomy in a hobo's briefcase.
Knowing it's consumption follows smoking base. The right choice merely to attend the way. .
I dig the magenta gel
you view the world through, brother.
But, at
the same time it has been nigh on
a year since my candidate won the election, and
maybe you and everyone like you should just let it go and
realize the world hasn't ended.
Yeah, yeah.
Go ahead and say it's only a matter of time before some
redneck assassinates him.
I don't care because you're wrong.
No one from your school of thought has the guts anymore.
maybe if this were the sixties one of you might try something, but it's not.
And you won't.(innard deficiency)
Conversely, this is an age where sore losers whine like
babies when they don't get their way, watch lots of Bill O'rielly, and stockpile
ammunition and non-perishable food.
All because we live upon a
landscape of
Change.
Cool Master Lil' Miss
Shiloh's art-filled hoodie argyle,
warmly snugs young miss, save Charlie,
he rallies firm, quick briefs the term,
timely step shifts the sundial,
gray culls while golden spears briefly,
while life roams its normal lifestyle,
e'er discerning events may change,
as felled leaves crowd in a stockpile,
squashing in passing was gnarly,
quick briefs the term, he rallies firm,
her hand in his made all worthwhile.
2021 March 09