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Monoku
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grandkids found my old rocking horse today ~ cut off its legs for my chair
By David Kavanagh
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ABC
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It flips and flops from side to side
and if the wind is blowing it will be going.
One ear is covered and the other is not
a curl or lock tied into a topknot.
Some look like a big fluffy feather that's been in a hazard
or the tail of a horse that's been forced.
Don't be scared because your missing hair
to a women a shinny bald spot is always hot!
1/23/15 T Reams
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Rhyme
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Eff this and eff you,
And eff that horse you rode in on too,
The way you speak to me,
Is definatly uncalled for you see,
My tone can sometimes seem a bit rough,
I seem a bit cocky all actin' tough,
As your girl I should get respect,
Instead I only feel like a reject,
You said, "my queen" and I could dig it,
Other names you've given that I'd omit,
I do not treat you as a lesser,
So why are you such a suppressor,
We should be equal you and me,
Treat me well ill forever be your devotee,
Continue this way and you'll see me run,
Because I feel no love and its not any fun!
2.8.21
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Ballad
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I Thought About You
(My Her Story Of A Past Love)
I thought about you and banished all doubt..
adoration projects inside out..
for my love is a beautiful sphere void of all fear....
The sinister flees your Glen ,my robin takes flight.
I'm floating words flowing..
Darling I thought about you sweating tonight..
The solace of northeast winds lift me pass ..
For I am There with you bearing all..
I thought about you baby through natures eyes..
lush green elms ,wildflowers..the spirit horse rides..
With honor and truth old soul essence abides...
Dreams blossom in timelessness..
your summer heat pressed against me..
The honey is still there from your kisses pressed against the glass..
from your temple of sound..
For I 'm a wanderer too..
I dwell pulsating in the realms of your inner space..
Where ever I wander I do with all my heart, my soul,my being..
Forgive me my dearest,opening closing doors..
the clock ticks and alarms..
I fall , crashing our time barriers...
dizzy hissing,holding the thought of only Sean..
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Free verse
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Are We Ready To Go Now?
Are we ready to go now, Lord we ask
or is there still another wait?
for these two children of Yours have found themselves
at still another gate.
At times, we seem like race horses
kicking up their heels in their stalls,
but we’d rather be a kicking horse
than a stubborn old mule with his nose against the wall.
No, we don’t want to run ahead of You, Lord
and definitely we don’t want to stray behind,
we want so much to follow You
and for You to keep us both in line.
For we have a divine purpose
and a strategic plan from our God,
that entails running for the post part
spreading fire over American’s sod.
So, help us Lord, to keep You in our sight
at all times as we run this race,
never running ahead or lagging behind
I know that desire has been given to us Your grace.
Calmly now Lord, as we wait
though our hearts pound mightily from your fire within,
soon to be released from our stalls
we will run till as many souls as possible are totally released from their sins.
Written by: Marilyn Jennings
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Romanticism
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A tent of brightly coloured wool
Along an effervescent pool
Filled with deliciously cool streams
This would last a week and I would surely weep
For in my sorrows, I made haste
Beneath a bleak sky adorned with clouds of thought
Menacing a downpour of grief
I left the bosom of my camp
And could not recall my steps
The fierce winds of the desert deleted my trail
As the winds of time would delete my memory from all that ever beheld me
The clouds of thought once again embraced my mind and etched on the bleak skies a certain name
A name sweeter than sweetness itself
With a velvety texture surpassing that of silk
A name that transcended the barren plains dancing around on the tongues of angels
And stretched to the bitter and sweet seas
It is a name unlike which any man has ever beheld
For though many share it
None could wear it with her grace, borne of the musk of paradise itself
A name that evokes images of beautiful pearls
One that sends shivers down my spine
When I envision her delicate visage
A name that spreads warmth from the core of my soul
Which slowly percolates through my being to the tip of my nose
This name can only be the perfectly sculpted form of -????? whose true beauty transcends that of meaningless words
A mellifluous name when uttered in any tone
It shimmers and shines and radiates brilliantly
Even upon the twisted tongue of the vilest crone
I remember the day when the winds of authority blew on our firm grasp
And whisked her away on the cursed back of an evil black horse
And it is with this heaviness that I thus sink
Into a pitiless lake of anguish
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Rhyme
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"The Essence of your Love"
When I was just a little girl, my mother told me the classic fairytale about a handsome knight on a white horse that would come and sweep me off my feet,
In one precious moment our eyes would meet, our souls would become intertwined, and as one our hearts would beat.
As I came of age, and was permitted to date. I began to speculate that I would never find my soulmate.
Time passed, and I became worrisome that my years were slipping by, and my prince had yet arrived.
Had I gotten overlooked by fate, was I destined to be deprived?
The clock did not slow down, as it continued to tick away...
Until the tables had turned and you just appeared in my life, on the most beautiful crisp autumn day.
Everything happened so fast, within six months we were walking down the aisle.
We were lost in one anothers eyes as we recited our vows, I couldn't help but smile.
You have made it a ritual to tell me everyday how beautiful I am, and how much you love me.
For my heart belongs to you, the are the holder of the key.
The Essence of your love, allow me to tell you what this entails.
During hard times we inhale, exhale, and then our strength and faith prevails.
Communication yes, that is fundamental we speak only the truth.
We are aware that words are weapons, therefore we have couth.
Side by side we stand, never in front of or behind,
I would chose you again, if given the chance to rewind.
An amazing husband, father, and bestfriend.
Amen, your my godsend, I intend all my living days with you to spend.
The Essence of your Love, still gives me butterflies in my stomach when you are near,
Even after all this time, as we approach our tenth year.
I am as madly in love with you as I was early on, but a bit of contradiction because I love you more as each day passes.
So here is a toast to, "The Essence of your Love" let us raise our glasses.
Misty Brown
1-26-2014
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Narrative
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Standing on one leg
With spit running down my face
My fist balled up with anger and shame
They did not care to much for my emotions.
Although, a little white girl smiled at me
From a window in a saloon.
She was the daughter to the Sheriff of our town
Beautiful young but white. I ugly young and black
We just don't mix boy, is what the town screamed in my face
Throwing rocks and pouring buckets of horse piss on my head
I would ask questions in my head whispering Why not?
Is love colorful? or colored one color?
As my leg grew tired so did my wanting to live
I started to cry and the town started to laugh
They whispered in my ear. Feeling lonely boy?
I couldn't speak the hot sun dried out my body
Then I finally fell to both blacken knee's
Then she came. The beautiful young white girl.
She said little words
But her crying eyes watered my dry body
I stood back up on my one leg
And my chain up hands reaching to hold her
Whip and whip is what I felt next
The sting of the whip from her father
The towns sheriff.
Whip and whip and whip
She was taken away and told
To not leave her room again
But she could watch the boy
Die alone for wanting to love her
She cried harder as they whipped me more.
I've been standing on this wooden block
For 10 hours and the sun hasn't let up
Nor did the town. The rope like hoop
Was thrown at my feet. And a voice spoke
Time to meet the devil boy. I closed my eyes
I begin to dream standing on my one leg.
I dreamed of her
How we would kiss behind thick trees
How we would hold hands when the town was sleeping
And how she would kiss my one leg giving it a blessing
She adored me lack of my leg and skin tone
As the rope caress my neck. I kept my eyes closed
The crowed of the town chanted die boy
One leg monster. Black and white don't mix.
I kept my eyes closed and begin to do something
I never done. I prayed to her
I said in prayer to her. My white angel
I will always be with you.
Cry for me only today
And bottle memories forever
This world isn't for me
But the next world will be for us both
I wait for you standing this time on
both legs.
I love you.
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Narrative
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A homeless poet
A few days ago, I was walking home with my dollar store notebook in my hand as I walked. I was deep in thought about how I was going to fill these 250 blank pages. A voice called out to me as I passed by a man sitting on a nearby park bench, "going back to school?" he asked, no I said I'm a writer, actually a poet/writer. "Oh... so you're a poet too" ! "I am also " he muttered in a soft tone. Oh really I exclaimed, realizing that I had a bond with the stranger, I sat down beside him on the bench.
It was then that I noticed he was a little unkempt, but, had a quiet dignity wearing jeans a lumberjack shirt and a suede jacket, with Rockport walking shoes. He asked me my name I said John Derek, oh he said, as looked down at his feet, I followed his gaze as he said in a morose tone that was...my sons name too...Derek. Was?... I inquired. Yes, he died when he was 12 years old...choked on a candy...I couldn't save him. A solemn silence followed...after a few moments he collected himself and said "my name is Ed". Nice to meet you Ed I responded.
He began to tell me about his writing, how he would write about what the native people told him about nature, he started to notice and appreciate nature when he worked in Whitehorse, in the Northwest Territories. He was an engineer working for one of the petroleum giants, but because of his association with native peoples he started to rethink his career choice. He asked me if I knew where the city of Whitehorse got it's name, I said no. He said that there is a river that in the springtime it begins to rush violently over the rocks creating white rapids that flowed like a horses mane. So the area got it's name from that local rushing river, he then began to relate his poem called White horse. He related it in a calm reassuring voice with a slight halting cadence as he tried to recall it. "I wrote it in 1995 after Derek died, a kind of therapy of sorts". It was a stunning write in every way! I asked are you a published poet? He thought a little bit, as he stared down at his feet again, "no...I like my anonymity. I have them written down in my journal, I love writing". I said I would like to read them one day, "maybe one day" he said.
He then asked me if I wanted to write a legal thesis about family life and family law, as he had it memorized after his lost court battles with his ex-wife. I said no that's not what I do. He said "she divorced me after Derek died, I guess she blamed me, I lost everything the house, our nest egg, and I've been living on the streets since 2003". He caught me off guard because he didn't look like a typical homeless person, I mean, he was neat and tidy except for a growing untrimmed beard. I mentioned to him about the social facilities and services that were available in our town, to help him to find a job and a place of shelter, but he said he's happy as he is. He didn't want to be a part of a corrupt system that put him on the streets. I asked him how he managed and he said "people are kind". He said that God sent me to talk to him that day. He said he was born in 1960, the same year as me, so we chatted about what life will be like next year as we hit sixty. I gave him ten dollars and gave him my phone number in case he changed his mind.
I worry as winter approaches with the bitter cold, but he says "somehow I manage, I can handle it, God helps me". Indeed he does. I reflect on my life and how in spite of health difficulties, I have a simple life with a shelter and a wife who loves me. I am truly blessed with much more than Ed has. Ed asked me " do you know the secret to happiness" I mused...I think so, but, what do you think? He says" happiness comes from within, not from things we have". I immediately thought of the proverb written 3,000 years ago, in Proverbs 1:20 how " wisdom cries out in the very street". Solomon was right!
Ed texts me once in a while, with a screenshot of a poem, it is excellent writing. My heart breaks for him, I ask him if he wants me to post it, he says "no I like my anonymity".
God bless Ed and all the homeless this winter.
John Derek Hamilton
October 16,2019
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