getting in trouble
my mind wonders way too much
mouth speaks without thought
I was seven, barefoot in the hallway,
nose pressed to the brass knob of the guest room—
she’d left the key out,
but I wanted to see through,
the way you want to see the belly of a piano,
strings naked, all hammer and throat.
The maid caught me,
her voice full of linen snaps and starch—
What are you doing, Miss?
I lied. Said I was looking for the cat.
There was no cat.
Only the shimmer of her hair under her cap,
and the broken goldfish bowl of my curiosity,
spilled on the carpet of my chest.
That night the sky turned dark like a locked door.
I thought about the keyhole,
how it had looked back at me.
How secrets sit still like fish
in the murk of people’s lives,
waiting for someone small and stupid
to come tap the glass.
And I,
with my hollow hands and soft mouth,
wanted only to know
what lived behind things.
As I was WALKING and TALKING in the park all ALONE
TROUBLE was DOUBLE because I was out LATE
Best THOUGHT to REPORT to my wife back at HOME
But then, a BRIGHT LIGHT entered my BRAIN
How UPSET she would GET if I blew off our DATE
Best SOUGHT I OUGHT to get out of the RAIN
I HURRIED and SCURRIED to get back home- on a DIME
But she LEFT all BEREFT, no more would she WAIT
Oh WELL, what the HELL- we'll go another TIME
I heard a noise that sounded like a cricket
Then once again, coming from her thicket
Soozie cried, "I keep burping."
"No," I said. "It's a chirping!
I'm not gonna touch that sticky wicket."
My neighbour, Mellifluous Myrtle
Her urine she’d stir with a spurtle
She’d give me a wink
Then down it as drink
She’s loopier than the mock turtle!
One Sunday we’d watched the Grand Prix
She proffered a flask of her pee
I said, “Sorry dear
It’s cloudy not clear -
I much prefer my English tea!”
Her pubic hair she'd tried to perm
The lotion gave a nasty burn
I phoned up Bill, her son
And said ,"Please visit mum,
Her conduct is cause for concern."
I recently heard some great news
That Myrtle’s son won a year cruise
I must hope and then pray
When they leave on Friday
Her bev’rages ain’t from the loos!
A question like a ramrod
Could an interviewee hit like rod:
For The Recklessly Unprepared
And the sure disaster prepaid…
As question waits for the rare gem,
Heard slight noises a big problem,
The smashed fist on his face Emblem,
At long last, Gem turning a Clem
“God, why didn’t I a lot read?
On me interviewers’ eyes feed!”
“I know there is Morocco
But funny it sounds: Sirocco!”
Only able to keep his smiles
But soon they read into it wiles.
Just for eyes no longer focused
A mind wrestling With The Discussed…
“Thank you, Young Man; you’ll hear from us
And make sure you try The Best Bus.
More than anything, they hate
Their members arriving late:
After “Eight” still at The Gate…
One walks fast, forgets “Loved Gait”;
The Dirty, be in that State!
More than anything, they hate
To be the ones that should wait
For Stewart, Maureen or Kate:
Colleagues who’d been handed “Date”,
The Last that should slight their mate
Or fall to The Cheapest Bait.
A forum one holds one’s plate,
Spanish Wine served in a crate
And one drinks at chosen rate
So why not treat it as Great:
The Forum permit its weight?
My heart aches like never before and I have seen a lot in life
It is heavy, weighs on me like a ton of bricks, even though broken
I carry it around, I work hard every day that passes
Caretaking things with all the help that I can muster
But, I am saddened as if the sun is dimming each moment
Like a river dried up that used to rush with energy and power
Positive currents passing through the land to a vast ocean
I am powerless in these times and all I can do is pray and pray
But, I cannot fix anything, as it kills me to watch people suffer
People, please listen and understand that we are in trouble
Heidi Sands
5/24/22
The song of the river in trouble
The river says, go back;
The sky also says the trees say so
The birds say go, go home back
But people say, go and weed
So, I go to the river dam
And weave grass on its top
Silently and tirelessly
I weed the grass at the bank of the river
In the burning summer and on
You are busy amid festive
But I see the river erosion
And an ensuing flood
You are singing the festival song
Me, songs of the river in trouble
Poor Joe,
He was always one to steal the show.
When Sam got a flea in his ear,
Joe seeing a bee in his beer,
Took it out and put it in his ear.
You should have let me be,
Said the bee,
At least til I finished me beer,
Now I will sting you for more than a year,
If you don't give me another beer.
(this poem came as a result of my nephew asking for a poem about a bee)
The world is in trouble because,
We have journalists,
Who know the answers, before they ask the questions?
The world is in trouble because,
We have preschool teachers,
Who don't like reading.
The world is in trouble because,
We have politicians,
Who didn't come to office via a party.
The world is in trouble because,
We have instructors,
Who were never given instructions.
The world is in trouble because,
We have Doctors,
Who never leave their premises.
The world is in trouble because,
We have contractors,
Who make money by contracting out.
The world is in trouble because,
We have people producing goods,
Who don't know how to count.
The world is in trouble because,
We have all but forgotten,
Who, where, what and how to.
Some parts of body
Done to come in double
Some parts seen in single
Eyes and ears in couple
To take as an example
Eyes and ears can tackle
The tongue in case is in double
The whole life turn into trouble
In these days of staying at home causing trouble?
Come and sit here to play the game of scrabble
All who and who can English reachable
Even to some English not that available
Come all in double as single causing trouble
Let sit some where that’s more comfortable
To play with some pieces like marbles movable
Can check how you are in words buildable
Be true,fair, just and always be reliable
Be peace in play that’s more preferable
That’s to finish the game all in agreeable
Come and sit here to play the game of scrabble!
its here there
everywhere
bad cold
be bold
its a fight human rights
its blacks and white
we're all sister and brother
THE
WORLD IN TROUBLE
I spent the whole night dressed up like a witch
collecting lots of candy and then YOU
stole all of it! You’re lucky I’m no snitch,
I won’t tell Mom, but here is what I’ll do:
I know your secrets and the games you play
with different girls that you like at our school
(especially Patricia) and the way
you two-time her. You know that isn’t cool!
You like her best. Well, Bobby here’s the deal.
You give back all my candy that you took
or I’ll be spilling all the beans – for REAL.
Remember I have seen your small black book!
And I’ll be wanting interest for I’d like
not just my candy, but your old blue bike!
Oct. 22. 2019 for Bobby May's If I Were Your Brother Poetry Contest
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