I said I'd do it myself
one branch at a time
I bought a house
and invested in a life
seven years ago, here
The storm was small
but strong enough
to break the tree in half
I am forty
I like a challenge
once in a while
Bitter end of July
and I'm hauling logs
and smiling
Either:
the devil is afraid I'll take over
or God will laugh when I ask
"Can I come in?"
Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two fish in the sea
And I had to find a catfish who took a bite out of me
The waves were crashing, but I still felt his teeth okay.
That murderous fish bit me, then went gliding away.
Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two grains of sand
Landed in my bucket when I finally found myself back on dry land.
A frog came over to give me a little understanding and empathy.
The catfish had tried to take a bite out of him too, you see.
Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two steps to my car.
If I had known my leg was going to hurt, I would not have parked so far.
Clyde the catfish got you, eh? An old timer in a fishing hat asked me.
He’s the orneriest and oldest fish in this deep blue sea.
I'd build creative writing, art, sculpture, music centers in 500 towns.
To benefit any students aged 7 to 18 who wanted to utilize the facilities.
I would hire art teachers who love art for art’s sake.
Our music teachers would be extremely child-friendly and patient.
These centers would be open before and after school.
Children could be dropped off in the morning to create.
They would have the freedom to write poems, songs, raps or stories.
Also utilize canvases, paints, glitter glues, and make masterpieces.
Singers and dancers would have a soundproof stage across campus.
They could access all equipment necessary to make videos and films.
They could enlist the help of the staff who would appear in their videos.
Teach them how to do what they wanted to do.
Encouraging creativity in the youth of the day could bring us peace.
It could satisfy some of their basic needs of being accepted and loved.
It could help them feel respected and give them a career goal.
People who love their lives make life easier and nicer for others.
So sad the day
five hundred thousand slipped away
too many names to recount
lost as the pandemic mounts;
some believed it all a hoax
anger, violence to easily provoked
but for those who've lost someone dear
the reality is quite near and clear.
Say your prayers as it begins to slow
and wiser minds with wisdom grow
facing challenges still unknown
this crisis on all the world is sewn
but mindful hearts and innocent souls
bear the lessons learned and truest goals
to breach the separate selfish yields
revealing the goodness in humanitarian appeals.
Five hundred rounds of ammunition
bound for President’s inauguration
shots will echo through the nation
and no this ain’t just imagination
there’s going to be a conflagration.
Twenty five hundred pieces
twenty five hundred moments,
Some barely two minutes
others infinity disguised as an hour;
Twenty five hundred spaces
the border hasn’t been completed yet,
We are still walking, laying the outline
trying to find each perfect fit;
Broken pieces molded together
fitting the lost empty places;
Twenty five hundred seconds
each moment shifting shape,
as the puzzle spins the future.
Five hundred characters go by so fast.
I only have four hundred sixty-two left,
which turned into four hundred twenty-two a line ago.
I must spend them wisely... I just wasted 28
on saying that I must spend them wisely.
I wasted 40 on repeating myself,
and another 40 on saying that I wasted 40.
Now I'm almost out of characters, which means
that I blew 33 on saying that I'm almost out of characters.
I trashed 70 on explaining what "almost out of characters"
means, and I think I still have room to cram five
…ten, so close, but soon it will be over
…nine, it seems each moment’s moving slower
…eight, what a long, lonely, difficult year,
…seven, all the lost hugs and brushed away tears
…six, twelve months of the worst of the worst
…five, it seems each day was sorely cursed
…four, as if life ended in this single set of seasons
…three, without the civility of explanation or reasons
…two, I don’t know how many more seconds I can stand
…one, yet, I still have hope for the next
thirty one million five hundred and thirty six thousand…
01/01/2018
Five hundred channels and nothing to watch
Remember back when, we'd watch diddly squat
Didn't really matter
If the language was a clatter
We'd watch foreign movies not knowing the plot
Five hundred channels and nothing to watch
Remember back when, we'd watch diddly squat
Didn't really matter
If the language was a clatter
We'd watch foreign movies not knowing the plot
© Jack Ellison 2015
Roaring thunder under the hood.
I grip the wheel that controls them;
Then white broken lines turn to solid,
Power pole picket fence flashing in eyes corners.
Never saddled such fury before,
One blinking mistake and I'm gone.
Didn't know a single foot had so much power,
Traveling at speeds that stopping wouldn't like.
Beginning to think thoughts that drive mind;
Will my spirit truly fly this fast someday?
It will for sure if I miss that next curve.
Still missing wind in face from one stallion.
Not used to new suit of fiery red armor around me,
With this huge bay glass visor to see through.
As soon as I can dismount this monster of the future,
This knight shall return to the honor of a gallop.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
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