Best Striven Poems
It has stood for decades along the county gravel road.
Skittering mice and barn owls now call it their abode.
What was once a stately building is now a shambles,
Surrounded by barren fields and prickly brambles.
Where once its weather-boarding was a bright cherry-red,
Due to the ravages of time, they're now a silvered-gray instead.
Yet can be seen a faded Mail Pouch Tobacco sign on its weathered side,
And a rusty weather-vane twisting in the wind, though a bit cockeyed!
Seasons of howling gales have striven to raze its sturdy oaken beams,
But they've held the old barn together though straining at its seams.
Its cavernous lofts once abounded with fragrant alfalfa hay,
That provided children a playground on many a rainy day.
It sheltered horses, sheep and cattle on frigid winter nights,
And for lack of electricity, it was lit by flickering lantern lights.
It was built when neighbors helped neighbors who were skilled,
At wielding hammer and saw and cherished great pride in their guild.
(The old barn of which I speak still stands on Indiana's Farmers' Pike,
Where I spent many happy times as an unassuming Hoosier tyke!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Was Selected as Poem Of The Day by Soup 26 July 2016
The greatest holiday gift I ever received
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears
I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin
For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so
Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading
We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy
We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores
On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through
A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee
My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve
This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for
We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me
Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job
Beauty, yes I have striven to be you, before hibiscus fades
Before the stars sprinkle night that covers ocean sunset
After the icicles thawed and swans inhabit the blue lagoon
We cannot know the perfect thing in our finite dust
The lesser never comprehend the object of lust
Beyond us bright, yet upon imaginations trust
Beauty, what are you? From what strange world you come? Tell me
O truth to know, unknown. You who make me love and not see
And yet know enough to pursue walking a thin sea
Yet still I believe that absolute beauty does exist
And I look for it to come out of stars or morning mist
Or out of bright imagination's tightly clenched fist
Every flower I love ever like a sunset fades
Every dream of old I cherish, like a leaf is marked for death
And sometimes at nights I only see one half the moon
Within Hall Of Heroes His Soul Must Surely Be
Within Hall of Heroes his soul must surely be
for courage and steadfastness surged in his veins
this he truly lived for one and all to see
he fought bravely for truth and right, not worldly gains!
As teenage youth, I did such a great man befriend
and discovered what a true blessing had been given
I was away that day his life came to an end
now mourn he that for honor had always striven.
Years flown by as I look back at such a fine man
a granite rock upon which any friend could rely
I recall campfires fresh fish frying in a pan
And will see his smiling face until day I die!
Within Hall of Heroes his soul must surely be.
Man that taught me, takes faith and courage to be free!
Robert J. Lindley, 6-18-2020
Sonnet, Tribute- ( Treasures That Life Oft Gift Asking No Payment For )
The times have fallen hard now, to scenes played on 'unmade' roads
Without my volition, and despite intentions, goals;
Indifference took precedence; a lust of life was part,
The key to understanding then, as now,Was placed a piece apart;
Carousing life held quietude.?
Whilst roles to play stood by, as unready future partner,
For when times would come rushing, all arrived..!
I've striven with understanding, and carried in part its lode,
Found 'light years' were really heavy... .’
Did some things that I was shown.
Now still I face an uncertain future, as a world in conflict roils,
Self-interest & self-importance, still… the poison in its ‘coils.’
I have observed full many persons from cooks, to magistrates...
Who have introduced first their credentials,
The institutions they'd attended, then put on the desk their brass name plate.
No, the magistrates, not the cooks..!
I’ve seen it happen thus, and I see it with world leaders, and the media making fuss..!
The Olympic Torch was taken to heaven; yes they showed it on TV..'
I wondered at the gestures value, for Gods sun gives all the light we need?
Still I 'spose he must have seen it, and all the 'special peoples' smiles,
WOW look at what mankind’s achieved yet still raw conflict boils..!
Perhaps a little more understanding..? And a lot more less of 'ME'
Coupled with acceptance of human mortality, and His death upon the tree..!
©Joe Maverick 30-11-2013
That I could ever cease to love you dearly;
How possible is this?
As possible as wearing water
Possible as eating air
As stacking Space
As folding Time
Possible as going on happily without you
As possible as outwitting God.
What is being loved by you like;
How does it feel?
Like happy five year olds on Christmas morning
Like redemption for the Damned
Like being found when lost
Like the end of war and famine
Like health come back to the invalid
Like everything accepted and complete.
And what are we together;
The Sum above the parts?
We are the feeling always striven for
We are the impossible balance acheived
We are the hope that no one speaks of
We are the dream no one believes
We are the level holding everything
We are the reason to go on.
So this is how I love you;
How it shall ever be.
Your arrival predate mine by two generations
Five weeks now since
Your permanent departure
Internal thoughts conflicted
Forever reminiscin’
Your heavily influenced overture
13, a younglin’
Curtain rise’s inception
On my personal narrative
Shaped by your first instruction
Of the working traveler’s adventure
And the stupidity of the expletive
Return to the current
The destruction you’ve forgotten
Placed on those survivin’
Untold secrets unearthed
Potential debts realized
Your true legacy questioned, reminded
15 and rising
Through my own personal ranks
Of adolescent confusion
You provided the tough shoulder
The ethics of work and moral
My own personal boulder
The passage of space and time
I slowly began to realize
The truth of youthful blinders
Your treatment of your holy union
Your honesty toward my path
Gradually affected my thoughts like a re-winder
20 and extended
Family now a subplot
Of my evolving tale
Your conversation overheard
A secret three-word exchange
Hammered in my story’s first act’s nail
Defining decade now in the rearview
A passage of peaks and valleys
Bringing about my current trajectory
Your skeletons undug
Of four adulterous decades
And of your duplicitous victory
Your praise of adventure
Of old-fashioned ways
Once lived in my inner core
The darkness revealed
Taints the memory
Of your eventful lore
The days move forward
The pain of your loss lessens
But not to the point of forgetfulness
Difficult as it and I may be
To forgive your fables
But mention, I will, of this
As the curtain closes
And the chapter ends
Of this insightful arc
I’ll remember the personal moments
Our private interludes
That left a permanent mark
A symbol of perfection
For that you may have striven
But I’ll tell you a secret
You were merely a human
An occupational hazard being flawed
Bound for inevitable regret
Our time here is over
But forever you will exist
Until my own curtain call
Then may the Great Beyond dictate
We join forces again
And traverse the Celestial Hall
WE SEE THE PICTURE OF "THE CORONAVIRUS" IT REALLY IS A SIGHT TO SEE! THE SIGHT OF THE CORONA-VIRUS IS TERRIBLE AN IT IS A LIFE FORM,AND WE KNOW AND REALIZE WHO IS THE CREATOR OF ALL LIFE!!! IN "THE HOLY BIBLE": THE LORD WHO'S NAME IS GOD TELLS US ALL IN EVERY LAND WHAT HE CAN AND WILL DO! IN "THE HOLY BIBLE": IN ISAIAH CHAPTER 45;AND VERSE 7 . GOD WHOSE NAME IS "LORD" SAYS; I FORM THE LIGHT,AND "CREATE DARKNESS. I MAKE PEACE ,AND "CREATE EVIL"; I 'THE LORD' DO ALL THESE THINGS!!!! IN ISAIAH IN "THE HOLY BIBLE" CHAPTER 42 VERSE 8 GOD TELLS US ALL IN THE ENTIRE WORLD HIS NAME. GOD SAYS : I AM "THE LORD": THAT IS MY NAME. GOD SAYS IN "THE HOLY BIBLE" ISAIAH CHAPTER 43 VERSE 11. GOD SAYS ; I EVEN I AM "THE LORD,AND BESIDE ME THERE IS NO SAVIOR. IN ISAIAH CHAPTER 45 VERSE 5 IN "THE HOLY BIBLE" GOD SAYS : I AM "THE LORD AND THERE IS NONE ELSE. THERE IS NO GOD BESIDE ME: IN THE HOLY BIBLE GOD LETS US "ALL KNOW" IN ALL LANDS OF THIS WORLD REALIZE HIS "HOLY NAME". IN ISAIAH CHAPTER 45. VERSE 1 .GOD SAYS OR 9 GOD SAYS "WOOH UNTO THE ONE WHO STRIVETH WITH HIS OR HER MAKER!!!!! WE HAVE A LOT OF PEOPLE STRIVEN WITH THEIR MAKER AND A LOT OF PEOPLE DYING FOR STRIVEN WITH THEIR MAKER EVERYDAY!!!! IT IS HAPPENING MOSTLY IN THE MIDDLE-EAST AND ALL OVER THE WORLD AND IN THE U.S.A!!! IN "THE HOLY BIBLE" IN PSALMS 100 TELL PEOPLES OF "ALL LANDS IN THIS WORLD WHAT TO DO,AND THIS IS TRUE!!!! MAKE A JOYFUL NOISE UNTO "THE LORD ALL YE LANDS!!! KNOW YE THAT "THE LORD": HE IS GOD! IT IS HE THAT HAS MADE US ,AND NOT WE OURSELVES!!!! THE "LORD IS GOD"! JESUS CHRIST IS "IN" GOD,"IN HEAVEN WITH "THE FATHER,AND WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT,AND WITH THE CONFORTER,AND THAT IS "THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY WHICH IS "ONE SPIRIT!!! ONE GOD!!! ONE LORD,ONE FAITH, ONE BAPTISM!!! LUKE CHAPTER 3 VERSE 21 AND 22 LETS US REALIZE THAT GOD MADE JESUS CHRIST HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON WHO CAME OUT OF GOD,AND WENT BACK TO GOD THE FATHER! THE LORD IS GOD!!! THREE PERSONS IN "ONE"!! ONE SPIRIT!! LORD GOD ALMIGHTY!!!
Tell me then what are we here for?
Like the tiny ants who has chores?
Human are definitely assigned
If their spirit is properly aligned
Each person has a talent given
For a goal each should be striven
With what talents have you been blessed
Have you pursued them with much zest
Go there to watch the tiny ant
See how their colony enchants
Each has a job, a small purpose
Go learn_watch the working circus
Character.
That's where the biggest measurements,
truest tests of worth
should lie.
And yet, 'tis not so.
Sometimes, mostly, I believe
that it's indeed enough.
That being a good man
is enough to keep me afloat.
Sometimes, rarely, . . .
I don't.
How many good men die?
How many great people, nice guys,
saintly women, shining paragons of humanity -
are shunned?
People don't always look at you
with virtue in mind,
don't gaze through honor's eyes;
too often they look through you, into you,
to what you can do for them.
Too often they choose,
not to see the real source of light in front of them,
but instead just the glow of fool's gold;
warping your worth to mean usefulness
instead of selflessness,
utility instead of altruism.
Or they misread you entirely;
focusing solely on your looks,
or your wealth, or your mannerisms,
your attitudes;
one is chosen, only one is seen -
the one made to blemish and demean.
Very few gaze on the whole picture,
take in the whole work;
these are those you treasure.
The ones, also, of value,
the ones who are what they claim
and claim little more than living
in a respectable way.
But still, in this life,
character matters oft too little;
gathers all but nothing corporeal.
In the end, one must make a choice;
tangible wealth, or wealth of pride?
What matters to one more -
the character of the substance,
or the substance of the character?
I strive to continue
to believe that great people are there;
that who you are
makes a damn bit of difference.
But throughout that strife,
ever am I haunted, shadowed,
by one ceaseless question.
How many good men die?
That's it. That's what I want to know.
That's what follows and taunts me.
How many of them fall, without ever knowing
just what they've meant to those they've helped -
those they've served, protected, assisted, befriended?
Whether it was a much-needed pat on the back,
picking up a dropped cane, searching for something lost;
or something bigger -
a life given, an oath fulfilled,
a love or a friendship began and striven for -
how many never believe they've made a difference, however slight,
never realize what they truly were?
How many good men die,
having once or more asked a question of their own -
am I a good man,
was I a good man-
without their answer?
Democracy In Nigeria
It’s been ages you passed into deep slumber
Or rather you were long dead, democracy
You have striven to rise but fall many times
Your limbs were over-powered by some political demons
You have been crushed in the dust by some powerful beasts
The people with green skinned body, white spirit and green soul
Are eager to see you come alive again and take your full course
Take control to the fullness you place in their leadership
They know the time has come and now is the hour
They cry, they sing, they shout, they talk, they pray, they hope and believe
Equally important, they are ready to work, support, and vote
To see the emergence of a new democratic Nigeria
The reality, evidential rebirth of democracy in a new Nigeria
(c) 2010
the room smelt of the pinks overflowing in the black glass vase
embodied with the human sweat that such sex embroiled
striven all over the room were the delicate but torn white undergarments
she had been lured to the room, and ravaged by this stranger.
already crimson bite marks,marked her skin
with yellow and turning purple undertones
looking through the windows beheld a wonderful sight
a beautiful view of a manicured garden
emerald lawns edged with orange flowers,
the old ash tree stood proudly in pride of place
such a sight will be in her mind forever never to forget,
she heard a noise in the bathroom
thinking the monster might return
she raised her battered body, gathered her clothes
wrapped a sheet around herself and left
this was how the police found her
blue with cold, was taken to the hospital
for evidence to be taken, she will survive
will have to control the demons that will try
to ruin her future life
penned. 13/3/2016
With the setting of the sun
Another day has been won
Deep purple and red skies blend together
Mark the memories of another day forever.
Once a long, long time ago
My days seemed so dark and forlorn
But then I realized that with the passage of each
I had but to listen to the words of a sage
With words that had been handed down through the age,
That from the beauty of the setting sun
Came the anticipation of the glorious sun-rise of another one.
Time can heal all wounds of pride and heart
Each day can bring bright rays of joy for a new start.
The beauty of the setting sun
Reminds me of another day being won.
How I love to see each day that I’m given
To know that I have striven
To bring to my heart a joy of a life lived
And the anticipation of the sun-rise of a new day given.
Who can view me behind the fence ferrous!
Those infiltrating eyes bear me desirous!
Unveiling what was previously hidden.
Keeping this same watcher has striven.
I figure you should say, "What's in plain view!"
Penny for your ideas as they decay in a dark row.
Truth is a precursor to the hotly slated freedom.
The spilling from torn gum is giving a storm!
Am I a true enchanter worthy of notice?
I feel you crying, so please, let me focus.
I never set up in front of an audience.
I starve to escape the irritating sequence.
But does it work to retain me from leaving?
This clutter adds to the overall styling.
Do they have any considerable difference?
Do I cave in, or do I dazzle with my openness?
What has me scared! How am I striving to hide?
None, however, can bear reality inside.
After the Inquest, I cast the net vast and bleak.
Induce them all to cave up the skill to peek!
Written: October 3, 2021
When I was young, life was hard, money scarce,
three meals a day, a luxury.
Although some days, my folks went without,
never once did my sister or me!
We lived, we loved, we laughed and forgot,
the heartaches that went before.
We cried, we smiled, and donned a brave face:
never once thought we were poor!
We skipped, we jumped, we sang our songs,
to words only children know.
Parents had no concern, no worries nor angst,
to wheresoever we’d go!
From playing and daily chores, slowly we grew wise,
learning new skills every day.
Naively we’d ask what, where and why,
to determine what others would say.
With innocent eyes, we looked on the world,
as our privately owned paradise.
We were honest and fair, to everyone met,
and made new friends in a trice!
We trusted those friends, and forged close bonds,
then swore we’d forever be true.
But all too soon, our innocence would end,
as our need for survival grew.
It’s often said, success comes only to those,
who never give way to fears.
To rise from the pack, one has to be bold,
let others shed the tears.
But if goals were to be reached,
concern for others was essential.
Rapport is a must, if ever we’d reap
the pleasures of our potential.
Today I sing or whistle a tune, and forget
all ill advice that was given.
So I never garnered the riches I once sought,
nor for what I’ve striven.
Still I will dance, and occasionally skip
duty and chores for the day:
Yes, my life has been full, never thought dull;
thanks to living life this way!
Rhymer. September 15th, 2016.