In the mornings, building staff,
Equipped with long green hoses,
Wash sidewalks down, attentive to
What lurks beneath their noses.
Most often, it’s what’s left behind
By dogs which poo or piddle,
With owners who, despite the law,
Obey it very little.
Though yesterday, a homeless man
Sprawled on the sidewalk, sleeping.
Though he was dry, surrounding him,
Was proof of clean-up keeping.
Aside from where he lay, the street
Was wet from recent hosing,
A kindness from the worker,
Or at least what I’m supposing.
I’ve sometimes gotten spritzed a bit,
An accidental spraying,
But I was touched to see this dose
Of empathy displaying.
When Whitetails are roadkill
someone must hurry
(I presume they hurry),
to pull the carcass off the blacktop.
A dead deer makes quite the road bump.
It's a sobering thought
as I head along the freeway
one late, and teeming night.
The details of sudden death
are so quickly obscured,
blood swiftly swished away
by the hosing storm.
Is there a wreck in a ditch,
shredded rubber, broken class -
all the diverse debris
of a head-long convergence?
You presume human remains
remain somewhere,
one just has to conjecture the best
of the outright worst.
Behind your rearview mind
the unknown
is still rushing to clean up
all your messy assumptions.
Even so,
carrion crows still hang
from your thoughts.
Unique things we've lost over the years,
Near to our concerns all the time.
Rewinding the time is not possible.
Eager conquers our existence
Chosing one thing that is gone.
One piece of our life difficult to get again.
Valuable love with no condition I would choose.
Especially you, the one I can't take from that box.
Really mum, I would like to.
Above the rainbow you send me inspiration everyday.
Balance tries to be recovered after you were gone.
Lights are bright, and you are the main star.
Excellent as you were, I would spend my life looking for you
Sing to the tune of Jingle Bell Rock:
Summertime, summertime, summer time rocks.
Summertime comes and kids yell hurrah.
Bikin’ and swimmin’ at some park’s big pool;
in the summertime, no more school!
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime’s fun when school is all done.
Playin’ and stayin’ in summer time’s mood,
good times are pursued!
Barbecue time is a great time
with family outdoors.
Barbecue time is the best time
to roast hot dogs and to have s’mores!
Oh what fun – here it comes – Fourth of July -
summer time’s big event.
Picnics, parades, and then watchin’ the sky
for the fireworks’ ascent.
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime comes and kids yell hurrah.
Bikin’ and swimmin’ at some park’s big pool;
in the summertime, no more school!
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime’s fun when school is all done.
Playin’ and stayin’ in summer time’s mood,
good times are pursued!
Disneyland or the beach – fun times for all.
Hosing down, lose those socks!
Baseball and snow cones and havin’ a ball.
That’s 'cause summertime,
that’s 'cause summertime,
that’s 'cause summertime rocks!
Babies cry, sleep, change nappies, feed. Toddlers drink water from cups. Younger brothers, younger sister, older brother, older sister, small town, large country.
One lane roads, one lane bridges, unsealed, 60mph, in the dark. Bush covered gorges, rail lines across the river, small waterfalls, windows down, no seatbelts in the back seat, lying down, sleeping on the rugs, stopping for carsick ones on the edges. Mum singing, Dad driving, children counting dead possums.
The ways into town run through a long winding gorge or a longer winding coastal road, both prone to slips. Nearest cities Christchurch, Nelson, 200 miles away. Only referred to as the Coast, with its own dialect, only belonging when born there.
Biscuits four trays, oven
Bread hot water cupboard rising, Dad late
Holden Kingswood written off, dead bull
Packs, boots, carbide lamps, white fizzy hosing down leggings, parkas, gumboots, bikes, back porch full.
Flames warm quality coal
Sheet lightening children’s window race
Nothing more calming than the thunder of the rain.
muse gets a thrill
setting fire to my ideas
making them better
muse gets sassy
throwing paisley into fire
winking her truth
muse gets busy
hosing down my ideas
replacing them now
Random thoughts..
I realize that i love you..not because of who you are...but because of how i feel when i am around you...
I realize that you and i could easily go our separate ways..and yes...maybe we would be ok...
but i have seen us..together...i see how you look at me...and is mirrored through your eyes...I see the long walks...the strolls in the parks...I have seen through your eyes...I have seen you in the kitchen..preparing a delightful meal by candlelight.... us sitting beneath trees relating story after story...
I have seen through your eyes.. us dancing till our bodies are wet...I have seen us ramping ,not in a ramping shop...but us playing gleefully like children...forgetting time,forgetting space..forgetting place..
through your eyes i have seen us in a garden ..me hosing you in jest..you laughing ..though not finding it funny...
Then through your eyes i have seen us warmly embracing..bodies intertwined...bodies speaking without uttering a single word..
Now i know to you these may be unreal...but these are my dreams i see for us ...through your eyes..
I smell hamburgers on the grill
their sizzle sounds scrumpdillyicious.
And I can't wait to sink my teeth
into a rare barbeque treat.
At my favorite picnic spot
I smell hamburgers on the grill.
And my skin gets tanned by the sun
as I walk shirtless on the beach.
The flowers are all in full bloom
spiking the air with summer scents.
I smell hamburgers on the grill
and my mouth begins to water.
My children are playing baseball
and my wife is hosing them down.
But, I'm off in my own world...for
I smell hamburgers on the grill.
(Quatern)
June 14, 2018
Summer Fun Poetry Contest
Nayda Ivette Negron
Laughter, splashing
Lake sparkling in the bright light
Hosing off sandy feet
Beach towels drying on the line
Smelling of sunshine
Dragonflies lazily hovering in the garden
Flip flops slapping against my heels
Ice cream dribbling down my chin
Lush raspberries ready for picking
Air perfumed with the scent of wild roses
My summer
My joy
~~~~~ THEN ~~~~~
How does a house change, though still brick
still imposing ~~~
Same roots below grass, same garage and
cracked garden hosing ~~~
Same dinner bell, same function of rooms
same wooden floors and now
old, tattered brooms ~~~
~~~~~ NOW ~~~~~
Though new roof, rosebushes around
refurbished piano provides
beauteous sounds ~~~
Which proves respect for future ones
to ease burden of needed sums ~~~
Living room carpet replaced, kitchen refaced
changes made day by day
much progress thus far ~~~
HURRAY !!
~~~~~~ BUT ~~~~~~
How does the ambience of a house change
nothing to do with
things rearranged ~~~
How does an empty house now feel so full
with no physical presences
just old souls ~~~
An empty dwelling, once thought pretentious
now feels peaceful
not contentious ~~~
Air no longer tense so take a deep breath
and inhale ~~~ LOVE and FAMILY ~~~
~~~~~ TILL OUR DEATH ~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
MUSIC TO MY EARS
a tear drop instrumental
nature’s collage
gluing breeze blown leaves
to each other
to trees
to my toyota
o the sweet tinkling
against garbage cans
against gutters
hosing down the pavement
like a mama spitting upon her apron
and wiping down her children’s brows
removing debris and dirt
removing streaks from their glassy eyes
mama takes that same wet apron
stomps out the aching forest fires
sweeps the ash
sends her children
scurrying
back to bed
replacing nightmares
with happy drip drop dreams
nature’s drum of love
i smile at God’s grace
Yule Tide
The pig
In the pen
Is being slaughtered
To day
Christmas starts
With a killing
Some get
Pork roast
Others get trotters
In the yard
My neighbour
Is hosing away
The blood
His sacrificial
Duty done
And I got a shoulder ham
While Finn, was on his front lawn
Giving it, a good hosing down
McGee next door stomped out his house
Fist clinched and wearing a frown
He violently opened the lid
To his mail box facing the street
Then slammed the door, just as fast
While making a bitter retreat
It didn't take long at all
For it to happen again and again
And seemed extremely odd
To an ever more curious Finn
So when McGee, emerged once more
And on his way to the street
Finn walked over to meet him
To ask him, while being discreet
"I've noticed McGee, a behavior
I have never witnessed before
Why is it so, you come, then you go
'twixt, your mail box, and your front door"
McGee stopped and turned, while acting concerned
With a complexion that looked rather pale
"It's my computer you see, It talking to me
And telling me, 'I have got mail".
A dvice, many seeds on a flower
D eciding to choose which vine to follow
V ery carefully given thought, very carefully given choice
I n your best intentions stated at the heart
C hosing which blossom can become an art
E very seedling can change the color of your path to chart
©Holly P. Moore
February 2013
Rondelet: Don't blame India, the land of the 64 artful Kama-Sutra positions
for the Punjabi Lady in an all-night jogging bus
Don't blame India
For a thousand three hundred years
Don't blame India
Bored by repetitive Kama
And pedologic incest - tears
In iron-hosing buses - cheers!
Don't blame India
(c) T. Wignesan, Paris, 2013
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