Holt Poems | Examples

NFL Poet

“Put the team first ...
and the ball seems to find you”

(Torry Holt: September, 2025)

Project 2025

There will be catastrophic damages to our
great nation, if we elect the Project 2025
conservative administration..
They plan to holt all carbon emission goals and
return to drilling oil and gas and coals..
Begin the largest mass deportation.
Eliminate the Department of Education.
Adopt the biblical definition for marriage: a man,
and a woman and a baby carriage..
Those Justices who Roe vs Wade did kill, now
plan to ban the abortion pill.
Aiming at the "awoke agenda", to end equality
and inclusion, the message they render..
Planning to criminalize p.o.r.n., which has been
around way before most of us were born..
Repay there big donors that had their backs by
heavily reducing their corporate tax..
Ending the three branches of gov., a long standing
tradition, by placing the Department of Justice
under the Executive position.
All government employees will have no job protections,
the end of our Republic, a very sad projection..

Thoughts On the Evening News

To those who soak up the slanted slop from Fox
Isn’t it time you switched off your black box,
Or, changed to a channel espousing the facts--
All the things your "balanced TV News” surely lacks
I challenge you to listen to Maddow for a week
You’ll get some valuable information you seek,
Not slanted, but grounded in solid research
Straight from a foundation grounded in truth.
[Fox’s martini has entirely too much vermouth!]
Me, I prefer the Evening News with Lester Holt
Giving me a look at what happened today, 
Letting me make up my mind on what I think
Not a bunch of talking heads leading me to drink. 
CNN I don’t watch so much, I’m delighted to say
I like my evening news cut-and-dried every day,
I don’t particular like their “expert’s” opinions
I am perfectly competent to decide what I think.
How I long for the days of Huntley and Brinkley,
Edward R. Murrow, Walter Cronkite, and their kind
Who knew I can intelligently make up my mind.

written December 4, 2021

Elegy To An Infant

Death has taken you now so far away.
Now you have taken on an angel's form.
Heavenly Father has the final say.
Although on earth here we are left to moan.
Oh, baby, my baby, why have you gone?
Right now you lay in a cold dark tomb.
You did fly away from your mother's womb.
Now in Abraham's bosom do you rest.
On earth, we keep your memory alive.
Like God's precious children you are blessed.
So, watch lover us until we arrive.


Published in The Winter Years, 2020

By Holt Publishing
an amazon book

Mountain

Mountain

I don’t know whether I’m on top or in the valley
If only I holt still my current position

I don’t know if I should climb or ramp 
If I climb, if I met snakes in the greenery

If the grey man on it is a survived pray
If the buds pointing at me are blackberries

The least I must do is taking the risk
The least I must do is fixing my wrist

What if I slide back till the floor
I must appreciate the opening of a new door

I must try
I can beat this cry

Now I’m on the top
A sign perseverance and hope

©John Kazadi

River Wye Weekend

You came in a beat up old blue Landie

with tales of sleeping giants on your lips.

It was your first night in the cottage

when the Wye was skipping over stones,

dividing the spiked water milfoil

with sacred Pumlumon Fawr sunk into the sunset.

 

We watched a heron draggle

in and out of the water crowfoot beds,

trusted we’d see muntjac or wild boar tomorrow.

Look, there’s a kingfisher, jewelled above the otter’s holt

and later a dipper, teeter-totter,

near the yellow-cress.

 

Watching frogs collared by ripples

we wish for a grass snake or polecat.

Skipping past horse-tail and great willowherb

you trace the sand martins with your miniature fingertips

while I collect peppery chives from the bedrock

and turn my once carefree soul to my stomach.



from 'Scratching The Surface' 2019
https://amzn.to/32GSMGl

Breathe On Me

Breathe on me, oh, Spirit of the Lord.
Grant me the grace to climb the mount.
Grant me faith in your abiding word.
Cleanse me with your healing fount.

Give me grace to climb the mount.
Let me know your surpassing power.
Cleanse me with your healing fount.
Be with me this very hour.

Let me know your surpassing power.
Grant me faith in your abiding word.
Be with me this very hour.
Breathe on me, oh, Spirit of the Lord.



Published in The Winter Years in 2020 by Holt Publishing
An amazon book

Endometriosis

This pain is not my fault 
I was just unlucky
It brings my life to holt
Each stabbing pain, twisting ache
Strikes as hard as a lightening bolt
This cramping is so hard to shake 
Endometriosis is its name
We're not playing this is no game
It takes away so many things 
Each person its sorrow it brings
To know what we go through
If you only knew 
You see sometimes we can't do much 
Apart from lay in the fetal position 
People judge as such 
Oh she has that condition 
Never fully understanding just what it takes to paint her face
And show the world she's not a waste of space.
So to you fellow endo sisters 
Out there 
Your not your illness
Your beautifully flawed and are so very strong
We are here for each other in this mess
I'm sorry this poem is very long 
So I hope these words have helped you know. Each time you get told your lazy, making it up 
go and prove them wrong 
We are survivors and we know 
That this awareness for this condition should grow 

From one endo sister to another with love ??????

Happy Happy Birthday Claire Holt

Happy Happy Birthday Claire Holt

To the 'ABSOLUTELY most STUNNING,
'SOPHISTICATED BEAUTY OF ALL TIME '
with the most
'SPARKLING, PERKY, ENCHANTING PERSONALITY   
that goes with the 
'BRIGHTEST HOMETOWN GOOD-GIRL SMILE'
let me say 
Happy Happy Birthday to you 
I lift up my glass with a
'LYRICAL Toast'
just as 'TOMBOY NATURALLY FLAWLESS'
and 'ENTHUSIASTICALLY, SINCERE, and ORIGINAL'
as to say to you 
I hope you have a
Happy Happy Birthday
that only a
'CELESTIAL GODDESS'  
like you can do 
Happy Happy Birthday 
to a 	'BELOVED VISION of LOVELINESS'
as 'Angelically enchanting, and  ADORABLY SOPHISTICATEDLY KIND' 
irreplaceable CLAIRE HOLT wonderful you

The Self Delusion Resolved

I am not extremely important.
I am not powerful.
I have only minor influence.
I am a small person.

I thought I was omnipotent.
I defer to my leader,
To my country and to God.
I give my ounce of influence
To Lester Holt, journalist, NBC News.
This is my resolve.
Thank you for reading what I write.

The End of Harold Holt

The End Of Harold Holt
By Roy Merritt

On December seventeenth, nineteen sixty seven
The Prime Minister of Australia 
Perhaps went off to heaven
He went swimming in the ocean 
Against all good advice
They told him not to do it 
They told him more than twice
But he insisted on doing it 
For it was summer that time of year 
And he was a strong swimmer
A man of little fear
But he never came back that day
They never saw this man again
And many rumors surrounded
This man’s final swim
Some thought he was kidnapped
By the Chinese Reds 
Some thought it was suicide
That the man was just plain dead
Some thought sharks had gotten him
That the man was an obstinate dolt 
But regardless what the truth was
It was the end of Harold Holt

Songbird

Songbird- by Michelle Artiaga
(For my girls Maya Holt and Kira Holt)

It's hard to find the words or deeds to somehow make things right –
To try and mend the broken wing and renew it's joyful flight.
I'm with you in the storm you face
My love, my heart,there too.
Just know the day that passes by ,
will once again renew. 
Songbird, sing your song again- when dark days and  nights are long.
Your sweetest song will right the way---
when all the world is wrong.
The hurricane has ended,that
destroyed our happy home.
We can now rebuild again -
The foundation, oh,so strong!
Rest your weary head 
upon my strengthened chest.
 May it help to ease the pain inside
 and give you time to rest.
Your wings will mend -face towards the light.
 The sun above and love within, will help regain your sight----
Songbird sing your song anew,
Within the darkest night.
Soon the broken wing will mend,
In song, you'll find your flight
(Written for you with love my babies--Mom)-By Michelle Artiaga 10/24/16

Frosted Mini-Wheats

Like a frosted mini-wheat there is always two sides
As they will continually compete for in whom one abides
Oh that kid side is there but that grown up is there too
But these are not a pair in fact the exact opposite is true

The child is so impulsive especially when the adult is not round
He just wants to live and he doesn't care about being found
But the adult is very different as he has grown over the years
In knowing what is meant by experiencing those same tears

So rarely do they meet this odd couple that is forever within
Each finding it hard to compete as Glory doesn't hang around with sin 
It's like they take turns especially in not being the vigilant adult 
For the little kid will always yearn which I so often try to holt

But that's where God's Grace comes in and He takes control
Smacking his grinning face and therein securing your soul
God knows your every grain and He knows your exact oat
Hey kid, stop being so vain, shut up, sit down and just take note

One Year Later

It was one year ago today when four innocent people were shot.
The killer thought if he killed the witnesses he'd get away with it but he did not.
Two of those unfortunate people died but the other two survived.
They would've all perished if the Paramedics hadn't quickly arrived.
It's terrifying to even think about what happened in that drug store.
Because of a very evil man, two nice people aren't alive anymore.
Somebody told my friend that she should move because of that man's brutal attack.
But she and I are not going to leave our hometown because of that deranged maniac.
Jason Bryan Holt is the murderer and he has a town full of haters.
The town of Bean Station is still saddened and in shock one year later.

(Dedicated to Stephen Lovell, Richard Sommerville, Alexia Wilson and Janet Clift who were shot one year ago today at Minnis Downhome Pharmacy.)

My Treasure, My Books

I had them hidden
locked & safe
my treasure, my precious 
What I value above all
Some said gold
Some said money
but some, even surprised me
whispering "puh; she hasn't got a thing"
some made me laugh
while others made me cry
But, here I have them
still safe, hidden & locked
my treasure, my precious
My Books...
What I value above all...
Charlotte & Emily Bronte
Dickens, Twain
Austen, Hugo
Nesbit & Holt
Even Dumas...
It took a little time
Gave me a hard time
But, I have them now
my treasure, my books
My favorites..
Made me my world
Gave me new taste
I value above all
more than gold
My Books, My Treasure....

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