A love affair with fingers
May seem dumb to some
If only their brain cells would linger
The depth of the matter plumb
Fingers play sonatas and arpeggios
Hold the spoon for to eat Cheerios
They fold up into tight fists
Unfolded, help to play whist
They tap out rhythms on desks and tables
Of so many things are they able
So, why shouldn’t we love our fingers
One can even be 'given'
to lunatic left or right-wingers
Memories freezing like a winter day
Somehow I lost you I couldn't find my way
Hang on so loosely never fenced you in
Now I'm without you sometimes love never wins
Nothing lasts forever
Is it a sin?
When you played my last heartstring
You left me hanging again
Memories freezing like a winter day
How did I find out that I lost my way
Pack up my suitcase
Fold up my hands
Dig up my freedom
Help me understand
Nothing lasts forever
I guess I just can win
When you played my last heartstring
You left me hanging again
JB 2026
our porch shows what hillbillies live like
because we might as well be from Arkansas or Tennessee
We are creekers – people who live in van down by the river
stepladder, two side tables, one long glass table
glider, barbeque grill, shovels, spades, garden gloves
straw hat, hoe, mud-caked wheeled cart
six twelve-packs of water
dog kennel for a nine- hundred -pound dog
(which we have never used)
mismatched lawn furniture
broken umbrella
refrigerator, full sized, not one of those pussy ones
two night stands
giant fan with dog hair stuck to it
fold up chairs that were dragged in mud
sign with two cartoon dogs
the sign says welcome to our home
Buddy and Beau
It should say Welcome to Hillbilly Heaven
Beneath the sky’s deep purple hue,
Music calls, the laughter too;
Wheels turn slow, the lights all spin,
And pull us gently further in.
The air smells sweet with candy threads,
With buttered corn and warm baked breads;
A carousel of painted dreams,
It ripples on the moonlit streams.
I watch your eyes in neon glow,
They shine in ways you may not know;
The call of bells, the beating drums,
The thrill before the next ride comes.
We win no prize, yet still we keep
The moment safe, our hearts to steep;
For nights like these are never sold,
They live in us when we grow old.
As the tents fold up tight,
And lanterns fade into night,
We walk back slow, still side by side,
With all the joy we could not hide.
My heart begins to sink
As my skin begins to quiver
I've been swept to the brink
By regrets flowing like a river
So what am I to think
As the cold world let's me shiver
Stains mark like ink
Where pain became a fissure
There's no one else to blame
As my blood begins to simmer
And against this waking shame
No nightmare could be so bitter
So I fold up the remains
Of a story I can't consider
My hallowed soul can't bare
What can't be washed away
Because even in deepest prayer
There's words I just can't say
So if I'll never clear the air
Then I know I just can't stay stay
The bed is wet
My heart's aflame
I cannot forget
What time erased
Memories are set
And the feelings won't drain
So I'll make a bet
Against the rain
One last cigarette
And I'll be unchained
A dream of dreams, then quickly vanished.
A dragon stitched through billowing clouds,
A fold-up wooded paper kingdom appeared.
I slowly sat up in my bed, right on my footboard it gripped.
The rest of my room disappeared into a fog.
A green-gold scales beast raised its stare.
Calm expression, like he was reading my muddy bog
Thoughts. Overwhelmed, speak, I did not dare.
I'd like to take you to a spectacular place.
He crossed his arms across his chest.
He whirled around a scarf appeared across his face.
Then, twisted his lips, hum, knightly jests.
I scratched my head and shrugged my shoulders,
and thought very nervously. Can I trust this beast?
For a moment, I wondered, but who is his holder?
Anxiously, I merely followed this beast.
A dream of dreams I woke to a knock at my bedroom door.
Afraid, carefully I pulled the loose covers off my head.
Pouring emotions of joy, the wooded paper kingdom was no more.
Mom slowly opens the door. “You’re going to be late for school,” she said.
If you have bridge chairs, playing bridge
Is not their only use.
Try mah jongg or canasta -
Any game needs no excuse.
Or set them up for extra guests
So everyone can sit,
Especially if there’s
A fold-up table where they’ll fit.
The same goes for a coffee cup,
For cocoa or some tea
Can fill it up as well as java -
Wouldn’t you agree?
Of course, that coffee cup may rest
Upon a coffee table,
Which may hold books or magazines,
Despite its coffee label.
And yet, if you’ve a bookcase,
You may get some eye-roll looks
If the shelves have only knickknacks,
When it’s meant for holding books.
Reading some homework
The day seems like artwork
Has the sky ever been so blue
Three guys toss a frisbee
perilously near me
shirtless boys silhouetted in turquoise
We’ve got our shades on
We pretend not to watch em’
But we know they’re putting on a show.
We’ve got fold up recliners
and we set a timer
to move to the shade in a minute or two
But the sun seems distracted
cooler and less radioactive
dozens of students are out on the quad
The trees aren’t just standing
the breeze has them dancing
to ‘Blood in the Cut’, a song by ‘K.Flay’
On this cool, near-fall holiday
We’ll while our day away
each of us claiming a chance to relax
Now that we’re juniors, we know the facts
We get that there’s still a lot of reading to do
but we know, we can have a little fun too.
What else would you expect us to do?
Shun me not for without you I'm neither rain or sky
whilst I fold up my senses and slowly die
life is never perfect in fact its a far cry
only brave survive dear so lets take it high
to the ends of the earth where stars have no fear
when sun fades its to allow moon to draw near
does love oblige sometime, just to dry a tear
yes it does that is how it keeps us in the clear
include me in the breaths you take every day
let me be your light, your truth and your way
close the curtains of hate know what they say
the thin line between the two can be so gray
Shun me not for without you I am neither day or night
let us seize this love and be, each others crystal light.
What if my doggy could learn how to read?
Would the library have all the books he might need?
Would he study the types and the traits of his breed?
What if my doggy could learn how to read?
What if my doggy could write me a note?
Would he fold up the paper and sail it by boat?
Could I make heads or tails of the things that he wrote?
What if my doggy could write me a note?
What if my doggy knew how to do math?
Would he add up the hours that passed 'till his bath?
Or subtract yellow flowers from grass on the path?
What if my doggy knew how to do math?
What if it turned out my doggy could talk?
Would he stop every stranger he met on his walk?
Would he babble and bop while they stood there in shock?
What if it turned out my doggy could talk?
My doggy can't write, or subtract, or chit chat,
but he IS good at catch and at chasing the cat
and at racing to me from the place he was sat,
just to
lick
my
whole
face...!
And I'm happy with that.
__________________________
Some people call a dandelion a weed,
but to me it is a pretty wildflower indeed.
With yellow petals at the top of each one,
like golden rays just like the sun.
Blooming like stars in the meadows and grass,
bigger, bigger and bigger as hot days pass.
Under the rain clouds or bright blue skies,
they are visited by insects and butterflies.
Then, all of a sudden one day,
they fold up their petals and the yellow tumbles away.
And instead they now have fluffy tufts delicate and white.
so fragile, lovely and light.
They send flying the fluffy tufts in the wind happily freed,
oh, each one is a new dandelion seed.
Soon they find a place to grow and grow,
sending their roots deep into the soil below.
New buds in no time open to the sky,
and soon we find yellow wildflowers growing high.
Now you can make a yellow bouquet for mommy,
or daddy or even your sweet gran-mommy.
________________________
March 6, 2021
Poetry/Nursery Rhyme/Dandelion
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1334-406-06
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Nursery Rhyme
sponsor, Eve Roper, Judged 03/11/2021
First Place
I hold in my hand Mama's old fold-up Kodak
In its steel-blue case shut with a tiny curved silver latch.
I carefully unlatch it, watch the worn-out flaky bellows
Extend like an unwelcome, nonfunctional ********,
Emitting a strange smell I remember from my childhood
Seventy years ago, when Mama sternly warned,
"Don't let me catch you playing with my camera! "
But I did, every chance I got; it beckoned to me
Like the epitome of enticement, the soft furry succulent
Cactus she warned us kids never to touch.
But I did, once … once, believe me, and never after!
And I said her camera was the only thing I wanted
That belonged to her when she was gone.
The cactus wrinkled and died years ago from lack of care.
I imagine
the earth could be fold up virtually or by other way
So from I stand up here I were able to see the Eiffel Tower in Paris and count its steel structure thoroughly , as if it were really visible in front of me.
I imagine
Hell or heaven enfolded us, not a place which is somewhere in distance
I could smell the fragrance of heaven
I could felt my hand skin on fire in hell
I imagine
Humanity were divinity
We all were family of god in enfolded heaven
No racist
No chauvinist
No terrorist
Just one and only a single heavenly beloved mankind in the universe.
Fold up your long sleeves,
shove knee socks drawered,
mothball your thick coats,
and back kick your boots -
Spring's freedom now sings.
Spring joys beckon
all who lust her.
Her fragrance wafts
for barefoot gaits.
New life peaks
as Spring's prose
touches skin.
Spring mix -
life gifts -
Bliss!
... CayCay
April 5, 2019
Turn up the lights
Fold up the bed
Turn up those voices
outside my head
Lay out for me
Feed me with lies
Just hold me up, your patron saint
Do matronize me
'Cause I can't make you stalk me
if you won't
You can't make your mind think something
it don't
Here in my light,
in these early hours
I will pick up my heart
and not feel your power
But I can't, no I won't
'Cause I can't make you stalk me,
when you don't.
I'll freeze my eyes,
then you won't see
The heart you don't feel
when you're not holding me
Evening will come
and you'll do what's wrong
Just give me till then
to give up this song
And you could give up our wrong
'Cause I can't make you love us
if you won't
You can't make your mind feel something
it don't
Here in our light,
in these late hours
I will pick up my heart
and I'll feel our power
But I can't, no I can't
'Cause I can't make you stalk peace,
when you don't.
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