Best Well Poems
A well-appointed cowpoke, of whom there are still a few,
Wanted to be properly clad for his first job interview.
So, to impress his potential and somewhat cynical boss,
He has a silver-studded saddle throwed across his hoss!
He's wearin' a ten-gallon hat, a Stetson if you please,
And a bandana 'round his neck to catch the dusty breeze.
The dude has a roll-yer-own a-danglin' from his lips,
And a shiny pair of forty-fours a-hangin' from his hips!
He's wearin' a hand-tooled leather belt of the finest grade,
And a "cowboy" shirt and a vest cut from top-grade suede!
A woolly pair of chaps covers his bow-legged knees,
And protects his Calvin Kleins that fit so tight they squeeze!
His gleamin' pair of Tony Lama boots with pointy toes,
Completes what he considers proper cowboyin' clothes.
The silver spurs on his boots glint in the noonday sun;
Ah, he's the ideal picture of a range-ridin' son-of-a-gun!
The boss, arms folded, feet spread, sportin' a knowin' grin,
Didn't seem to be impressed, much to the greenhorn's chagrin.
Sizin' him up from head to toe, he said, "You look fit and able",
Handed him a fork and shovel and sent him to the stable!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved
POTD 23 Mar 2024
THE PATH WELL TRAVELLED.
Two paths diverged, and I was thrown by doubts I had never known
To my left, thickly overgrown, was a path to dismal dimness prone.
To my right, a lovely sight-fragrant flora flamed in light
Forms so graceful, beauty rare, a wonderous vision beyond compare.
Both seduced with equal right, torn was I between dark and light.
Resisting limits of time and sight, a liminal border of cosmic might.
Hesitancy rapt with fear and doubt, the pondering heart beat aloud.
Tempting was the path so grand, but instinct cautioned of a treacherous hand.
A feathery touch, a breeze stirred, and in its sigh, a voice I heard.
Was it Hecate who whispered?
"Take heed. Beware, for each path leads to a different lair."
Crystal clarity knew what I must do, and with a heart filled with valour true,
Joyously, I strode wild and free down the well-trodden path ahead of me.
The leaves, like frisking lovers, played as I embarked my chosen way.
Future paths ~ So many dreams ~ Each a thread in life's grand scheme.
Though true discovery lay in paths, I'd roam ~
The one well travelled always led back Home.
By Maria Williams ©
Greeks worshipped Hecate as a guardian and gatekeeper who could ward off evil forces. She is often represented carrying a torch and a key and standing on the liminal border between one place and another. She bears three heads and always has a dog by her side.
Inspired by Robert Frost's 'The Road Not Taken', I chose to write an alternative version.
'The Road Not Taken' is one of Robert Frost's most famous poems. It's natural and understandable that many readers take the poem to be Frost's statement of individualism as a poet: he will take 'the road less travelled'.
The metaphor of the road is one that immediately evokes a journey, not just of the local or day-to-day kind, but of the life-defining sort: life as a journey, with many roads which we must travel along, and with many alternative paths which we must choose between.
POTD 23 March 2024
"Wishing Well"
Plain Jane blew her wishes
down a wishing well
Lit long white bless'ed candles
dipped in holy water
Brackish
Crocodile tears from Hell
Witches hold hands together
Stand united
show and tell
Plain Jane
knows her subjects inside out
Sisters plain and simple
holding hands
united
standing by the
Wishing Well
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
ljb/llb/klb/mlb/gvlm
ak/io/to
- ALL WOMEN -
Plainly seen, undecorated but never Simple
Competition: "She Inspires Series KH Poetry Contest"
Muse: ""Plain women know more about men than beautiful ones do."
Katherine Hepburn
Sponsored: Maureen McGreavy
Deadline: Sunday 12/1/2020 12:00am
Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well
With him, for they shall eat the fruit of their doings.
-Isaiah 3:10
Though peace your soul is denied
But your heart seeks many a things well
Hear ye the word of the lord
"It shall be well with you"
Though sorrow your home reside
And thy pain comes with the day
Hear ye the word of the lord
"It shall be well with you"
When darkness has passed away
And a new day has come your way
This is what the lord had said
"It shall be well with you"
When the sun's sleep begin
And the stars are out in grace
This is what the lord had said
"It shall be well with you"
Though thy shame be great indeed
And your name has a date with pain
If thy hope remains in God
"It shall be well with you"
So a poor wage you endure
But an entrepreneur you long to become
If thy hope remains in God
"It shall be well with you"
Hold Thy Judgment, Truth Is Not So Well Seen
Hold thy judgment, truth is not so well seen,
Thou, that sits in luxuries and decides!
Fate and Time, can both, off the path careen
Into deep hellish dark, that life oft hides
While this teeming world, its course wildly sets,
Mere mortals must walk upon broken glass!
Far too oft, we are forced to take our bets
On when to stop our race, when to fly pass.
If thy heart seeks truth, its binding powers,
Light thee brighter candles, to see life clear.
Walk without fear of black shadow towers
And within thine own heart strive thee to hear,
Striking notes of love's romance sounding clock
Even should it send, that which mind so shocks!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-24-2019
Sonnet, ( Wash Thine Eyes In Clear Streams)
Note- Inspired from a dream I had last night...
but i wouldn’t fault you words spilling from a loose connection
i forgive the negative
they are tied to your artistic temperament
your heart
translucent
exposes wires tattered and frayed
a myriad of internal cuts and bruises
i can hold such damage
with barely a touch
soothe the gnawing of varmints uninvited
draw out a collage of smiles
patiently waiting to adorn
the you i see
i can draw your laughter
deep and resounding
i can love you unconditionally
for better or for worse
be that handy little light
one carries to duel the dark
Thu Mar 5 2020
How many souls live on the edge,
Between the gutter and the ledge?
A hopeless fear crawls in their gut,
Each day, another endless rut.
The moments pass profoundly slow
Sad, bitter winds are all that blow.
A man lay huddled near the bin
Hoping death will take him in.
Frozen tears, on wrinkled cheeks
Frostbitten ears, and shoes that leak.
His mind forgets the games of tag,
Old Crockett's hill, where down they'd slide.
A summer rain, the puddles deep
Out catchin' toads, to tame and keep.
His life began with dimpled cheeks,
Red tousled hair, and hide 'n seek.
A tough old Dad who tricked and teased
A pretty Mom who smiled with ease.
They had a farm with fields of hay
A few old hogs, and bills to pay.
One summer day, the sky turned black.
A howling wind brought down their shack.
Dad sold the hogs, and cut the hay.
The farm was lost, we drove away.
The next two years were grim and lean.
Dad broke his back, to feed us beans.
When winter came our food ran out.
We found old Dad hung by a rope.
Without poor Dad, no food or fire;
Mom took my hand, the day was dire.
The Sister's face looked mean and sour.
I thought of Mom most every hour.
They scrubbed my back until it bled.
cut off my hair, then I got fed.
'Twas many years before I left,
My Mom had died a tragic death.
Now all alone, I lived and slept.
I begged for food, and sometimes wept.
A life of days and endless woe,
Now time is dead, and death too slow.
As you walk by those 'homeless freaks'
Remember me, with dimpled cheeks.
I am the river
not this bucket of water
attached to a rope
From Empty Pages: The Poetry of Silence
Available on Amazon
______________________
I'm a message poet,
with a diamond pointed pen
I crack the hidden safes,
and take a honest look within
Things people wanna keep secret,
dark things they don't want coming to light
Corruption sealed in steel containers,
safe from any purview or oversight
Let the blood from my ink of truth
seep into their secret crevices
Shake the metal boxes of lies to the hard floor,
then crack open the impenetrable sealed doors
Exposing all the bartered deceit and appraisal sins,
unethical agreements and ill-gotten possessions
When letting the people know
where all of their hard earned money went
The cost of liberty, always,
is ink well spent
The photo is of Brennan, my three and a half year old grandson. He's fully focused on everything he does ~ sports, art, Pixar cars...and yes, cartoon videos...however...read on.
A soccer player at the age of three
with a cherub face and dimpled knee
this child was born from my progeny
Intently focused on kicking the ball
his aim was straight and he didn't fall
"SCORE!" everyone laughed at the call
Four goals that day he proudly made
but two for the other team, I'm afraid
He didn't care. Nor did I. Well played!
It’s a smooth and tasty way to get high.
Try my distillation of mash made from corn and rye.
I make it from my family’s secret recipe.
The only one who knows about it is me.
The stuff comes out of my trusty hidden still.
I have it standing in the woods on top of the hill.
My woman did something that made me mad as hell.
She took the last batch I made, and dumped it into the well.
Soon, gathered around the well was a big crowd.
My neighbors were laughing and singing out loud.
There were old folks and little children staggering along the lane.
It did not seem like any of them was feeling pain.
Nobody else in the vicinity readily understood
why the water in the well was tasting so good.
His wife said she’d got a new house pet
He'd not seen her smile like this in years
When she showed him she’d bought a ‘rabbit’
He'd expected one with floppy ears!
09~02~14
Contest: Well I declare!
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Broken last night,
I woke up
Precious problem,
picking up
every part.
I want to fix it.
This
I've tried to mend
by shooting it into my vein,
getting in and going,
by another lover,
carving the love into my skin,
by sleeping away
the black out.
Useless things are poison to the temple.
It’s either one cigarette after another,
or lots of chocolate,
the sad tale goes on and on.
But the fragile heart is broken.
What do I do?
They tell me to,
Rely on Thee
It's hard for me
I can't see,
Although I know
and have been very close before.
I was expelled from Hell, thank God.
Entered into the sunlight.
While the whole world
Is in agony.
I'm feeling happy,
my heart feels healed,
but this is a deception....
it is still broken.
Just like a peculiar disease,
there's no cure.
Fill it,
and deal with all its cuts and bruises...
but then all you have are scars. .
My medicine for the bleeding within...
Is to await love to call me,
and say that everything is ok. Not to despise my needs...
Inside, there is a little girl screaming.
And some times...there's an old lady whispering
that she is utterly tired, and can't bare it anymore.
Do you shut the door on your heart?
I can't seem to do it.
It's too powerful and pure,
this instrument that passionately pounds within me.
All its pain...
I have no control.
Creatures
Do you have a broken heart?
Do you have a heart at all?
When lattice of tears dampen gloomy nights,
Cutting through a ragged shade, a moondust black
Remember me as your protective harbor , a sanctuary
With gentle arms outstretched which understand
Those woeful cries howling a bullied refrain—
For I’ll serenade you with this assurance… never fear
Until eve’s warm pillow lays itself down;
Then remember me in this unkind world… all is well--
My whisper hums,’ Dear son… you are not alone.”
For Silent One's Contest: Nine lines to let them know
everything will be fine 7/26/2018
On a fine April day, set out in the great cruise ship, Titanic,
Into the pelagic waters of Atlantic, with the weather alluringly sweet.
Plush it was with beaming fellow travelers and amenities astounding.
A journey of great excitement under a star-studded sky at night.
With the crew so hospitable, there was overwhelming warmth and conviviality.
Wine and liquor flowed down through gullets; tasty cuisines were served.
On the deck couples and lovers waltzed, a sweet breeze kissing their cheeks.
But tragedy loomed large in the form of an iceberg, unobserved.
I sat away from the crowd enjoying the rising gaiety.
What was the deafening sound I heard from near?
With a violent shake, the huge leviathan turned to one side.
Hardly knew what was happening, but sensed death was not far.
Hit hard n' ripped into two pieces, the vessel began sinking into the waters.
Amid euphonic melody and revelry, some didn’t know what was happening.
Some in panic ran helter skelter with growls and groans renting the air.
A man gave away his lifeboat to a mother and child, his own life abandoning.
It was a moment I witnessed the beauty of selfless love.
I was inspired to give away my lifeboat that I secured by chance.
A divine spark hit me, and all anxieties vanished instantly.
Sudden was the transmutation, I saw the whole scene in a new stance.
Heaven’s fire was lit in my breast and in love, my spirit began to glow,
How great it is to give life to someone who needed it more.
I heard the angel’s voices flit, saw a new door opening wide.
Had a fleeting vision of the heavenly hall with aureate roof and glazed floor.
I knew all my agony depart and hope instantly sparking.
With God on my side, I felt sinking into the icy depth,
My mind was calm with an unusual courage filling my every nerve,
And my horizon growing bigger and enlarging into uncommon width.
My inaudible parting words were “Goodbye Titanic, fare thee well,
In the oceanic depths, you stay as a symbol of world’s fleeting glory,
Making men think that fate can shatter and pulverize human hubris.
In the sunless Atlantic lair, lie down ageless to tell your allegorical story"!