Well, it's inspection time again!
The Boys in the Barracks are wiping,
buffing, spit-polishing, belts and buckles...
Lest they feel the Wrath of their D.I.'s Knuckles!
Now, once they're all prepped and polished,
Some may soon find...their world demolished!
silence falls...Quick footsteps down the hall...
Not, One, Soul, Is, BREATHING...At ALL!
ATTEN-SHUN! BARRACKS READY FOR INSPECTION SIR!
AS YOU WERE CORPORAL! What Have We Got HERE?
You MAGGOTS! Look like something that...
Got PAID!, Got LAID!!, and then...Got...FRAPPE'D!!!
YOU...CALL...YOURSELVES...MARINES???
CUZ, I'VE GOT A BETTER DESCRIPTION!... LADIES!!!
PRIVATE KLUTZ!!!, STEP FORWARD!!!
THIS...is what the H, E, double Hockey Sticks...I MEAN!
What the HELL!...is that...GACK!!!...on your RACK???
It looks like...you Lost your PAY...Playing...POKER!!!
Couldn't AFFORD...to get...LAID!...
Couldn't AFFORD...to Get... FRAPPE'D!!!
Then YOU...told...ALL...The Others...YOUR BROTHERS!!!
YOUUU!...FELT SICK...BUT INSTEAD...WHIPPED YOUR WICK!!!
IF YOU PREFER TO BLOW...GUNK!!!...ON YOUR...BUNK!!!
THEN...SAVE YOUR GRAVY!!!...AND...JOIN...THE...NAVY!!!
AS YOU WERE...PRIVATE!!!
A needle nose pliers, polished like glass, damp
with tears and sweat, but not from rote plumbing leaks,
needed a good buffing at the Dust Rag Camp.
It slow-waltzed across the street where no one speaks
and mimed a tale of woe beneath a dusty lamp
intently viewed by neglected toolbox freaks.
One grand gesture of support from each to all
gratitude like oil oozed to soothe the gall.
Its almost too much,
budburst
on a cold morning
when cherry trees
awaken a white bliss,
the soundless shiver
of a million mouths
buffing a tarnished
soul to a shine.
Tucked away in dad’s back closet,
Stocked with polishes and such;
Dad would let us boys come work,
And learn to earn a buck.
He taught us work had dividends,
If we would put the effort in.
Come days, or nights or weekends
We’d shine them up for him.
He didn’t pay us what we’re worth,
Or offer “bonus” pay;
But there we learned initiative,
That drives our lives today.
I remember when he taught me,
About colors, soles and buffing.
Then He’d spit into the tins
I’d scoff and thought: “He’s bluffing!”
In reflecting dad, I’m thankful…
For little jobs like shoe shines.
You gave our lives a “polish”
Beyond your quarters and your dimes.
If I could, I’d take your shoes right now
And polish every one.
To let you know my love and thanks
For ways you raised good sons.
By Shoe Shine Son #3
Sadness within me is my skald,
Ignorant world, taunting my afterworld,
Why is my soul in this soil pinfold...
The sky is filled with dark enshroud,
Am dumbstruck, thunderstorms cloud...
Love is an unloved harken,
The heart in me, a shrunken token...
Fey reliquary in the sand,
Buffing the defoliated leaves off my land,
She lay her tears on my heartland...
Miseries of the silenced one...
Tortured hell gone...
It was a foggy, rainy day,
Slight breezes skipped across the bay,
Touched the shorelines and the hills,
Across the fields, buffing houses
And chilled us to our bones.
I and my brother Gerry were
Playing outside and came back in,
It being too chilly to play.
So ,we took out our toys and games,
Begging the sun to shine.
But, dark clouds would not let it shine
And wet rains kept on pouring down.
So, we played trivial pursuit,
Monopoly and cribbage games…
Waiting for tomorrow.
W.C.Hull © 2020-WCH10-WCH1-11 PPS
W.C.Hull © 2020-H1439-2549-I52-K52-17-L59-17
There are triggers...
and then there are triggers.
When the stars above shine on me,
I am always aware that you trigger something within me.
What you trigger is loving.
You warm my heart
and sometimes chase me away in sadness.
But tonight you warm my heart.
Thank you. I have been wondering
many things.
The universe has no interest in what I know,
but occasionally peeks in to see how I've grown.
That eye...is not accompanied by ears.
Have you ever noticed that?
I don't want to be left behind...
and suddenly I'm that 16 year old girl
and like a box of discarded items
my parents moved several states away.
That is mine, my emotional problem. I own that.
So I send it back to it's source, return to sender,
and bless him on his path.
I am cleaning my field
in the autumn of my life.
working out shortcomings -
appropriateness...
buffing down and softening those hard spots,
that have been misperceived as strength.
Please don't misunderstand the love you trigger.
It is appropriate,
not the intimate kind,
although it is personal.
So I send you love.
Yes, there are triggers...
and then there are triggers.
I seek out inspiration.
You left to prey on another innocent heart,
and yet, it came as no surprise;
after all, it was your signature move.
My subconscious wasn't willing to overlook the obvious,
and attach genuine feelings to love's fake facade.
Confused and lonely,
I allowed you to breach the walls
of my heart with your whispered, witty words.
But when we cuddled close,
your thoughts seemed so distant;
your mettle started showing signs of corrosion
and I tried buffing it with trust and love;
but to no avail.
I realized our goals would never align,
for I had to contort the truth to make it fit your lies.
And I got tired of hanging on to a lost cause;
and so, I let go!
Winged Vamp – for contest
Hey, who’s in charge here…?
I need a serious makeover,
spent a summer eating a very…
well….green diet
put on a few ounces..
had some of “those” curves.
Been in here working
on my image, you know,
buffing it up on all levels,
a little firming up,
splash of color,
new wardrobe.
Now it is time for
my coming out party….
“Sweet Sixteen??” No Way!!
Can’t wait that long.
Gotta break out,
spread my wings,
sashay down that winding staircase,
enrapture the garden,
enhance the beauty of the flowers,
tease them with my love,
make even the roses blush.
Leave but the scent of my wings
wafting over their petals,
a dewy tear on their cheeks
for I am as fickle
as the winds I surf
as frail as my fluttering
beauty.
John G. Lawless
8/11/2015
for SKAT’s Butterflies Among Us – Poetry Contest
We go through a period of time
When God is working through us
Whether it is buffing us
So we can shine
Or giving us things, gifts
God is going to do everything to change us
We may think we never get through it
But the end will come
And we will get there
If He puts on your mind something He is going to do
Trust that He will do it
That is his cue to you
That He is about to do it
You will see that it gets done
It is true that He does whatever He pleases
But He will listen to your wishes, desires
And fulfill them
Just know that his desires for you are better than yours
So sleep easy
And rest in the knowledge that He will look out for our best interest
Hard at work
He is
He is looking out for his little ones
Like a mother hen watching out for the little chicks
He will not let you falter
Always shaping you
Correcting you
Molding you to the person He wants you to be
So let the Potter do His thing
Just yield and be compliant
He will do His work for you
To you and in you
He never rests
And that is why He is God
And we are not
Let the Potter shine
You
I’m building castles in the sand
on the shores of a grey, grey sea.
The clouds have gathered overhead
and the shells are wave-washed clean.
Footprints wander down the shore
of the vast and vacant sea,
the waves are buffing them away
and turning the sand sateen.
Beyond the berm and the waving grass
inked upon the setting sun,
someone sits in a house of glass
as sand through fingers runs.
I’m watching seabirds dodge the stars
when the waves reflect the moon
and pulling seaweeds from the rocks
they drearily festoon.
And the sand’s run out of the fingers now,
and the drink’s run out of the cup;
the house of glass is quiet now,
all the shutters drawn up.
Allow those sunrays
Bypass through the lenses
Compose up my window
Buffing
Agree to those blends
Seize on to my grip
And let my sun
Grant me my limelight
Smiling, blurring
Sojourn!
Don’t swathe my sanity
My guide
My warmth
The exquisite
My Love
You shall by no means
Recoil beyond the pillows
is that the spearman swinging
his weapon to and fro
and is that the giant weeping
down and down he goes
that smile i remember
everytime you kill
that laugh so sinister
when you feel that thrill
are you in hotan the glavie called
buffing and stroking
chasing the so sun abroad
the thoughest of them all
you have me waiting
counting down the time
till i can feel that thrill
now im wiriting this rhyem
this is how I am blazing
life goes through fazes
everyone around purple hazing
customers around me grazing
hoping that I am slanging
reality is amazing
so many could be craving
my life ever changing
where I lay my head is my home
internally alone
people all around
constantly calling my phone
buffing my chrome
none of it changes the fact
that nobody is home
or my activities are condoned
god what am i doing
my life is in ruins
money in pocket
but heart still bruisin
life just a crusin
never to stop and take in
the ruins
life is so amusin'
I gotta know why
why we live and die
where my heart lie
before I die
I will constantly try
to fight temptation
and live my life, why?
cause you want me to reach real high.
in your creation
is our relation
so the elevation
is a revelation
that I must bring to creation
I know it will be hard facing
the man and his temptation
but in me you trust,
your greatest creation