Best Stonewall Poems


Lie, Truth, & Reality

I walk above all pain
            risen and relentless 
                       floating on borrowed air oblivious
This heart is impervious fortress, like stonewall embattlements
...that lie is twisted around every bitter past and hollow present

Meandering useless, wander and watch
Romances ebbing, flowing, flying, crashing...dead
Envy circles about my head
longer away, further removed...and lonely

This heart is porous Swiss, like wine-tasting afterthoughts
...that truth is a hulking shadow looming disproportionate
     engulfing any new light on unseen horizons

Only wishing she might see and understand
My hot and cold passion platters served accordingly
 apprehensive only in love's pursuits
   timid like bullied school children cowering in corners
Brash and outspoken otherwise...shackled when it may matter

This heart is neglected farmland, like wartorn meadows
...that reality inhibits every bright angle of my soul
     suffocating the man you would love...if you knew

Premium Member Beautiful Stories

The storm has passed,
Leaving behind hills covered white
The sky opens up to blue
With a shining mixture of gray and opal
Clouds scattered all around
The pine trees sway,
Waving between the horizon and here
On the hill where the rocks in the stonewall,
Are capped with snow
The wind chime still hangs chiming winter songs,
To be heard from this hill
Where the sky shows beautiful stories
In every direction
To be told, scene by scene, year after year

Heidi Sands

1/2/21

Football, Volleyball, Baseball --- a Nonsensical Poem

Football, volleyball, baseball, softball, 
Racquetball, handball, basketball, hardball. . . . 
There're lots of sports in the world you play with a ball, 
And you can't play any of them if you're an oddball. 

If you want to be good at any such sport, 
You've certainly got to give it your all. 
No such sport is as easy as playing with a snowball. 
Choose one of those sports and pay all your attention to it. 
If you don't devote your energy to it, 
You'll surely fall into a downfall. 

Before your practice, you shouldn't take a highball 
Or any other kind of alcohol. 
If you do, you may get into a pitfall. 
During a game, there're numerous dangers to forestall. 
If you don't take enough care, you may rush into a sidewall. 
Or you may even get your head crushed against a stonewall. 

Be on guard not to catch cold during a snowfall. 
If you make any such blunder, you'll end up being a goofball. 
After your practice, take a good rest, which is a real cure-all. 
Whenever you feel dry in your nose, use a spray of aerosol. 

If your girlfriend is with you, ask her to put on a camisole. 
If she's a beautiful girl from Nepal, 
Have her use a brilliant orange parasol, 
Whose design reminds you of a refreshing waterfall. 

If you feel uncomfortable kissing her, 
Try some toothpaste with xylitol, 
Perhaps with a little bit of menthol. 
That may remind you of your ex-lover 
Who spoke beautiful Provençal. 

When you think you've eaten too much, 
Start watching your level of cholesterol. 
If you don't, you may be no better than a neanderthal. 
If you do, your life will get back to a pastorale. 
Well, I think that by now I've told you all. 

(June 28, 2015)


Stonewall Jackson

Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees
for surely by waiting we shall see no time gained greater than these

For surely by not waiting we shall see 
no time gained greater to us than these

Pagodas temples and soft music greet us there
oh how soft the rain on my face mistaken tears 

Expression no longer a protest our bones shall not last
things dropped into the ocean will and must sink to their rest



Category -  Forgotten time and times !!
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.

General Lee

“Let us cross the river and rest in the shade of trees”
Converse like gentlemen, with our bayonets at ease
We were once brothers, declaring independence for these lands 
Now we murder one another, for the right to shackle two hands

Where were the voices, emancipating your values from skin
Taking the glory from generals, immortalized by crimson sin
Lives were railroaded, as Kansas bled into a Missouri stream
Bodies buried in the compromise, of a transcontinental dream

Was it a War of Secession, or a rebellion of recourse
Fire-eaters scorching, an abolitionist’s civil discourse
600,000 lost, tangled in the matted wool of the rancid free
One Bloody Shirt cleansed, by Sherman’s March to the Sea

Do you still hear their viscid screams, clinging to the charred air
Mottled faces crying, broken by artillery soaked fields of despair
Gettysburg shook, as corpses crumbled under death’s rolling gait
The tide had turned, but war only recognizes one ephemeral state

I have heard of leaders, speaking on the residue of tyranny’s grave
Reconstructing a widow's faith, eulogizing the sacrifice of the brave
So why do we proudly remember, how you outmaneuvered harm
Stonewalling the Constitution, before sadly losing your "right arm"

**NOTE**  The first line of the poem is a quote from Confederate General 
Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, as he lay dying from a mortal wound at the battle 
of Chancellorsville. Upon learning of his greatest commander's death, General 
Robert E. Lee somberly responded that it was as if he lost his "right arm".

Ban Assault Weapons In 2017 - Part2

This epidemic re: murderous love affair perfervid
with gruesome morbid 
fixation allowing, enabling and providing terrifying 
   trappings, whence Pandora out the lid
anger loosed by gun toting recorded by hid
dee us aide de camp per grim reaper 
   milling crowd, each bewildered person stunned viz satanic grid
loosed bullets ensnare coterie upping ante bid
   daring pernicious fare thee well odiously off loaded 
   per incendiary fiery maelstrom to mega death count added.
Suicide bombardier slakes thirst aims at billeted soiree
with deadly precision, and spray painting human innards 
   congregated engaged groupon people), with egregious pay
ment for exaggerated slight mowing down, a slew - nay
soon to be lifeless victims unaware - delivering may 
hem to anonymous hunter a cannibal as well 
family and survivors, who lay
   down their sorrows, which bring revulsion and gray 
obsolescence of faith in mankind to fray.
Death be not proud, nor ought airtime be allocated to these 
heinous cavalier avengers foe tee eight-hour special (proffers 
   twitchy finger itching to squeeze
especial easy access to sophisticated high caliber compact 
   offspring family affair sport doth please
manifesting prize pride killing machine owners 
   posed as stonewall Jackson frieze
rapaciously with so much ease
lethal gimcrackery cutlasses incite epidemic violence as disease.
Sorrow soulful songs sung by the likes of death cab for cutie or goo
goo dolls in tandem with foo 
fighting beastie boys pay homilies whence homage grew 
to grateful dead nobody knew
fetishistic martyrs wannabe set sights of sister and mew
sic cull doobie brothers of their simian species with no sorrow to rue.


Old Stonewall

The dust upon the old dirt road has settled
Very seldom now do footsteps fall
Most of what once was no longer lives here
All is gone except the old stone wall

Years ago when time was still an infant
Boulders yielded to the craftsman’s maul
Sweat and muscle, tools of its creation
Men 's mettle tested building this old wall

It stands here yet today in silent splendor
As if the march of ages to forestall
In concert with the beauty that surrounds it
Still running down the road, the old stone wall

11/12/2011

Crossing the River

Let us cross over the river
and rest under the shade of the trees
for surely by not waiting we shall see 
no time gained greater to us than these
Pagodas temples and soft music greet us there
Oh how soft the rain on my face please not mistaken tears 
expression no longer a protest our bones shall not last
Things dropped into the river will and must sink to their rest

Respect to Stonewall Jackson
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Immortal Words!

Many immortal words have been spoken in the heat of the moment,
During romantic settings, wars and other distressful foment!
Damsels have said, "I wouldn't be caught dead with that guy!"
Decades later she celebrates their fiftieth with love yet in her eye!

"We caught them napping!" the last words of the arrogant Custer.
Surprise! Surprise! He took on more than he could muster!
From the Titanic's crows nest, "Slow down! There's ice dead ahead!"
Said Captain Smith, "I've schedules to meet!" sailing on instead!

"They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance!", said the general.
They lifted Sedgwick off the ground, already planning his funeral!
Admiral Farragut roared, "Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!"
Easy for him to say, filling his sailors with terrible fear and dread!

"I only regret I have but one life to lose!" said Nathan Hale,
Before he was hustled off to the scaffold sans benefit of bail!
"Lets cross over the river and sit in the shade of the trees."
Said Stonewall Jackson, instantly shot in error, falling to his knees!

Goliath taunted, "Am I a dog that you come at me with sticks?"
David with his sling and stone showed Mr. Goliath a few tricks!
Wives claim husbands have a knack for having the last word:
"I ain't lost! No need to ask for directions!" immortal words often heard!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)

Premium Member The Guv'Ment Wants To Change My Name

Unruly rabble demolished statues of General Robert Lee.

Now, the politically correct clique is a-comin' after me!

My name is Robert Lee as well and 'twas so inopportune,

That I be associated with the General, my name to so impugn!

The mob wants to eradicate anything to do with General Lee,

Includin' his namesake little old insignificant me!

Besides all of that I'm a Yankee born in the Hoosier state,

And had nothin' to do with the Rebel Cause I'm happy to relate!

So any of you fellers named Stonewall Jackson or John Bell Hood,

Hunker down 'cause a request to change yer name is a likelihood!

Robert Lee (Hinshaw)

Premium Member Roosters From Another Creek

Urban jungle roosters,
born-again scarecrow,
to untutored city eyes,
tawny pipit stonewall  nester,
jet black Inca dove bereft,
of dovetail on a croque monsieur,
idle bone grub crawl,
mother hen to sandy brown,
and velvet bill gazer,
from an nearby creak,
recent rural migrant now,
a tree house side kick,
chickadee a late date sitter,
on this air flock beaky natter,
or tweet between the  ice float,
edgy grey day species wield,
their sprightly ruffled  feathers,
as an orthopaedic surgeon,
and their spatula when  scraping,
rancid bark off windmill elm trees,
gastric bugle trenchermen ahoy,
while ogling a fellow common redpoll,
oh these tummy rumble diners,
will zoom in on every gourmet,
tangled wire mesh feeder station.
round and round they’ll  fly,
on zesty mission beetroot,
a cock-eyed scavenger‘s delight,
are they siblings of  a  noble  order?
white tale mountain bluebirds swopping,
habitat for granite boundary  habit,
off key off discordant choirboys,
six sided snow bird chorus,
ear splitter for tardy wakening,
they cheep religiously as if,
their only  valid  creed  was,
window squinting  prayer meets

Premium Member Simple Mutterings - Fate

It seems like I fell off the map on my life journey,
my path has been twisted and quite ferny;
    and beauty is concealed . . . 
I have learned to dip and dive in life's battlefield,
but this warrior of fate could use a shield;
        and perhaps an attorney !

Fate just keeps throwing me off mountains I climb,
I end up in dangerous places most of the time;
    I could use a fate guide . . .
So that over oceans and quicksand I could glide,
and face-   fate's devious footballs with pride;
        life is often lemons and lime !

Wonder, would I find contentment on easy street,
no, I like this journey, music and beat;
    I like catching the football . . . 
Standing strong and tall when I hit a stonewall,
so, I will play the game and there is a windfall;
        I could be an athlete !

_________________________
March 9, 2018


Poetry/Rhyme/Simple Mutterings/Fate
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1002-488-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.

Jungle Music By Ron Porter

cymbals hiss like giant snakes
the bass line prowls like a panther
piano keys,? ?like monkeys in trees
chitter and chatter with mirth
the trumpeting of the horns of brass
call like elephants in distant tall grass

the rhythm of the jungle,? ?green
the wide savannah's symphony
delivered by swaying cool cats
arrayed in garments multi-hued? 
as flowers in rain forests afar

plucking strings,? ?beating skins,
tapping ivory and ebony keys
the improvised voice of Mother Africa
calling to her lost children as they
with eyes closed?; ?sweat and sway
in stonewall gathering huts
on a North Side Saturday night
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.

Ann and Nan

Snapshot memories of are past
 having so much fun with the hope that it would last
 To my best friend Nan,
 a beacon of light to a hurting world in need of love

 To the truest friend I ever had
 those memories by the stonewall
 Started playing together as friends
 She had blue eyes & long blonde hair

 I had brown eyes and brown hair
 roller skating on the sidewalk with the attached rollers with a key
 Went down by the brook to catch poly wags
 we both went to the same school

 Having sleep overs was a blast
 a secret passage to get to her father's soda shop
 Taking ice cream and delicious candy
 everything nice and dandy with Nancy

 Yours was are youth to be captured with a precious smile
 Cape cod trips when Nan would drive
 going to a trip to Provincetown 
 watching the folks dive for money 

 Big ships coming to dock
 the men would get the money in their mouths
 The island we used to go
 in a row boat along the beach

 Looking for young boys and we found them
 went to dances at the Bristol Boys Club
 Doing the latest dance craze the Huck Buck
 Boys wearing pegged pants and girls wore skirts

 To cherish those lasting memories of a time ago
 getting married
 Nan had three children
 Ann had six

 To raise and cherish the family united in love
 Today we are in are eighties
 both with medical issues
 Yet remained best friend's after all these years

Song of Pride

I sing this song of Pride

For those who have no voice.

I march this street in honor

Of those who had no choice


The Stonewall Riots, where it all began

Our fathers took to the streets.

To demand equal rights and justice

No longer will we take a back seat.


I sing this song of Pride

For Freedom and Liberty.

I march this street to honor

Those who've gone before me.


On Santa Monica Boulevard

On this cloudless, beautiful day.

My Gay brethren by the thousands

Are standing proud to say.


We sing this song of Pride

Equality is our demand.

Those closet doors been shattered

We're proud to take a stand.

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