A new proud king of
forest had new dream-
dream of being in
history, till books
become history
He welcomed next day's
Sun with new vigor,
made rules in jiffy
ruling, ruled and rules
had to follow sure
clawed, hoofed, webbed, toed, heeled
all to offer part
of whatever chewed
lesser things to give
part of little haves
earthworms, termites, ants
millipedes, snails, worms
should clear out, too soon
king liked forest floor
to be tidy clean
trees of aged wisdom
stood in stun silence
feared to give advice
so they learn to wait
as king waits to learn
The pow-wow at the U.N. has
Affected many roads,
With inconvenienced travel
By both car and other modes.
I tried to take the ferry down
To meet some friends for lunch.
A police boat in the river, though,
Confirmed my ticked-off hunch –
My ferry route suspended,
But no answer to how long.
Security is vital, though
To me it just felt wrong.
I hoofed it to the subway
Where I waited for a train,
Which was crowded and unpleasant
And deserving of disdain.
Yet I got where I was going
And when I was headed back,
The suspension had been lifted,
With the ferry back on track.
red land harsh terrain
animal transportation,
arid hoofed taxi
'Cat's Cradle's' a string game, --forty inches
enables a noose. Fastened end, handles
it's stable. Weave string through finger-pinches
finagles new patterns that'll form like, 'Candles.'
'Soldier's Bed' is another fine heartburn,
bolder threads perfect, designer fashion,
shoulders had carried the full weight in turn.
Old sage said, "Time waits for none," new passion.
'The Manger' is the fourth well-known styling,
form major curves, though new sorts of concerns,
the nature, be wrong for Christ's smiling,
become fainter, --drinking trough, hoofed beast yearns.
Hand strings, a challenge that'll be quite scheming
that springs unexpected hurdles, loopers
then straying's toward taxing twist-seaming
planned strips; string game for two-handed troopers.
She walked into a crowded room
Trying to find her seat
Finally, she saw her name
Occupied by a woman with hoofed feet
When she stated TRUTH
She was met with unmovable resistance
So she found a seat in the back
Where servants flow with assistance
...to LOVE
She was sad, at first
For the condescension and theft
If it wasn't for the attention of the HOST
She would have quietly left
Roses and a note of admiration
Thrilled her heart with assurance
That her seat is not among the famed
Nor with those who proudly purchased FIRE INSURANCE
Her seat is secure without threat
Because it is in the courtroom of GRACE
Where she stands in WORD
Before every oppositional face
...to LOVE
LOVE does NOT demand its on way
Written by Trudy Shcrader on 06-23-2023
Words fell through my mind
in plumber’s wrenches
you walked
through a room
my hands shook
I kept pebbles in my pocket
to hold on to
you
kicked at my desire
broad hoofed
your head became
an Olmec icon
my fingers reached
reached for you
like skinny cobs
of ancient maize
REVISED OCTOBER 16, 2019
New Jersey’s cloven-hoofed devil
makes his way to the jetty
beneath the blanket of twinkling stars, anguish unabated
his appetency growing stronger each day
her song rose like mist upon salty tide
creating an irresistible allure
perhaps a mermaid so fair
can be the auspicious boon he badly needs
he calls to her, certain she will listen again
as she has done so many nights before
his soul’s torment she has learned to alleviate
patiently, she clings to one boulder, waiting
for she alone can absolve him of past misdeeds
she motions for him to draw near
“Kiss me now,” she begs,
“Before anything more can go awry.”
he moves toward her, still in atrocious devil form
holding fast to the rocks as a storm approaches
perhaps this time their magical kiss
will forever end his loneliness
October 14, 2019
For John Hamilton’s “Crazy A’s” Poetry Contest
The New Jersey Historical Society provided information about the New Jersey Devil and the mermaid he is said to connect with each night by the shore.
Here comes Santy Claus,
Here comes Santy Claus,
Bringing you Santy Claus pain.
Vicious old bastard
with sharp-hoofed reindeer
pullin' on the reins.
Bells are ringing,
children screaming,
all is scary with blight.
Say your prayers
or hang by your hair
cuz Santy Claus comes tonight.
I'm Israel
for once I was real
now I'm nothing but a living hell
the ruthless child and his deceiving spell
once upon an Israel
now the eye in the capstone
wants your palestinian home
yet you can't escape my tribulation appeal
i disappeared leaving an ancient zest
I'm an internal quest
yet you battle for the impossible to manifest
you never listened ,you never believed
now rolling in my grave while you're being deceived
my destroyers were gutting the earth
eastern europeans to middle eastern Israelites giving birth
where else can you say shalom while stealing and destroying homes
hidden sigils ,books for crooks
conjuring and invoking
the hermaphrodite is giving my fake rebirth
ushering the two nations myth
while all serves the congregation
setting the promise land
but Him never built castles of sand
as you're all taking the stamp
wait for your fake black hoofed lamp.
Tamer Hossam
Precious Baby Boy was slumbering,
In a manger once upon a time,
Adored by His parents, life sublime.
Soft-hoofed camels came lumbering, following a sign.
Three spiritual wisemen arrived,
Excited, though traveled so far,
Faith brought them to this humble stable,
Following a vibrant star,
They were welcomed in by the young family.
Where God’s own tiny Son was slumbering.
Words were unspoken, reverence felt all around
The King’s birth, was so mystically humbling.
Christian’s precious Baby, in heaven these days,
Listening to our prayers, smiling at our successes,
Sending us ideas, listening to our praise,
Inspiring us with hope, to help clean up our messes.
Our Precious Baby, earth Angel, although on earth, unseen,
Felt spiritually by those, who believe in the wondrous King.
Being free, the fun felt good
Clouded, altered, a long way from home
Hoofed on many roads chosen
And- all about places known
From which to go onward, and roam
Being a drifter, wandering by foot
After all these past years yonder
Still remembering old times wander
Pony Express Christmas Card Ride
You asked about our Christmas here.
Do reindeer pull the sleigh
to carry loads of gifts and cheer?
Hoofed beasts we have, they eat fine hay
and in the rain or snow and cold
deliver Christmas cards, as gay
and warming as the cheer of old.
You’ll hear the hoof-beats – not on roof
but Main Street paved with lamplight gold.
The Pony rides on clopping hoof
with saddlebags packed safe and tight –
good leather and quite weather-proof.
Chaps and Stetsons, what a sight,
they leave the packs of mail right here.
An Old-West sort of Yule delight.
Rooster Lost His Crow
I wanted to enter her barn door
I wanted her farm to the very core
She said no, we lost rapport
Our tongues then went to war
Our bulls hoofed in ink galore
She fell deaf to my words implore
I wanted her farm to the very core
Our paths lonely forevermore
11/18/17
Rhyme Time II - Poetry Contest
Cloven hoofed I am striding across sanctuaries lands
Not what was expected in their sanctimonious plans
Have I ever existed or am I a figment of their imagination
Or am I simply more perfect which angers their frustration
Me, I'm cloven hoofed and one thrown against their black
Is it I whom lacks belief or am I an excuse for their lack
But it's always me that's ostracised, or do I actually exist
Do you really know who I am to continually persist
Good or bad, black or white, like left and right we're twinned
Hey, let's open our eyes and smell the air, who has really sinned
Over the fruitful forests, I saw the trees
I hoofed over sleet, slush, ice, rain n' snow
On my any which way journeys
Wandering kookily at the yearn of heaven's glow
I bear on my back a bodily spirit flow
Whilst traveling in tracks undreamed of
In vasty wind depth visits, so
To kiss the creator's old sod of soil ruff
Many I saw, rip current ocean shores
Sunny and clear, potshot rain sprees
Great stones and rock on steepy cliff floors
Umpteen alpine in the deep forest trees
More than that, wild geese in clean blue air
In elevation over n' under
Heading home across the landscape fair
Hasteningly, avoiding hunter and thunder
In all my travels, I found no answers. Only wonder!
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