I was a late arrival
born in nineteen fifty-eight,
during the folk revival.
As a kid, music was survival.
Records then sounded great
on a platter or a plate,
like Peter, Paul, and Mary,
and Puff on a seventy-eight.
Later, having no place to go
and no one to meet,
Mr. Tambourine man would show
a wonder I did not know.
In my consciousness, he took a seat,
I listened o'er and o'er.
I put it on repeat -
something worth living for.
Chase dreams, he would entreat.
How I remember, in the park,
I heard my first live electric guitar.
At the sound of that spark,
something in me, no longer dark,
like fusion in a star,
with electricity instilled,
from where I was, it took me far.
Everything inside me thrilled.
That was only just the start.
There are too many bands to name,
who created musical art
to expand the mind and heart,
no two of them the same,
like the Airplane and Grateful Dead,
peace and love, they would proclaim,
and those sentiments would spread.
To Avalon! To Avalon! Twenty-six miles from door to door.
The Catalina Channel Isle: my destination off the shore.
We sail a wide and glassy sea, arriving Friday evening, late.
The Grand is seen from far away, guards the harbor, silent waits.
To stroll the boardwalk, drool as salted taffy’s pulled,
tour Zane Gray’s pueblo house, protect your lunch from diving gulls.
Catch a movie at the Grand’s mesmerizing, giant screen:
magical, this castle fort, not believed unless it’s seen.
Sleeping on the boat at night, rocked to sleep by gentle wakes,
row the dinghy in the morn, skindive for abalone steaks.
Journey back home Sunday night, late arrival into port.
Monday morning, foggy dreamland: school simply does not comport!
—————
(memories of childhood trips to Avalon Harbor on Catalina Island off the coast of California)
FALL FOR YOU
The autumn comes, sometimes slowly
Recalling warmth on sunny days
Yet soon the autumn diary wakes
Term time, and a nip in the air
After summer’s late arrival
The autumn comes, sometimes slowly
Shades needed to protect the eyes
And caps to cover balding heads
For some the Spring is slow to start
Winter persists with frozen grip
The autumn comes, sometimes slowly
But every year and never fails
The bright light of summer can burn
But temperatures will always fall
Fall is just around the corner
The autumn comes, sometimes slowly
Pounding of the sun.
Pounding of the storm.
Drummers on trees.
Freeze the moment
Of unusuality.
Stream of arousal.
Stream of hot rays.
Stunning silence.
Freeze the moment
Of tranquility.
Heed transient thunder.
Heed, it’s late arrival.
Wringing out rain.
Freeze the moment
Of instability.
8/29/2021
~ sequence of haiku ~
late arrival
everyone asleep
quiet as can be
fat june bugs flutter
in the dark of night
all too excited
ignoring this swarm
of june bugs
we put up our tent
one of us filling
his pockets
for tomorrow’s bait
clear skies and waters
when sun rises
fishing lines are cast
AP: 1st place 2021, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on February 23, 2022 for contest THE NIGHT SKY sponsored by ANNA MARIE KAIANAH - RANKED 2ND
One small word to describe so vast a space.
Universe magnificent in each place.
Perfect creations adorning each room.
Each plant knows best time to open its bloom.
Every creature knows where he belongs.
No bird's distracted by the other songs.
Late arrival humans have changed things a bit,
Their egos convinced there is better fit.
So they tinkered and soon changed things around,
Even started taking oil from the ground.
Animals are dying as are some plants,
Because mankind got too big for its pants.
The problem is now ours, the climate change,
Because we were sure we could rearrange.
Written: July 2, 2019
Benji the Bit-Bit Shire gardener,
had been following Blue Bell a horse.
He read that it was having a run,
Saturday at a local racecourse.
Blue Bell was in the field of race two;
a field that is considered quite slow,
so Benji predicted a killing,
once the starter released them to go.
Fifty bucks Benji put on the nose,
gleeful Blue Bell had great starting odds,
and as they raced along the back straight,
the race was in the lap of the Gods.
Blue Bell came home at twenty to one.
Benji was considerably dirty;
for he had watched the other horses,
canter home just after twelve-thirty.
The gym was decorated:
crepe draped and glittery.
Disquietude was partner
as I stood against the wall,
misrepresented hunger gnawing at my soul
and a misunderstood thirst.
The electric strumming died,
so the vehemence of a heart-throbbing
perpetual drum solo
and snare’s
shimmering effervescence
could ripple, rumble and shoot
as lightning through the air,
no reverence for my ears,
nor veneration for years.
Then he
stepped into the emptiness
of the full room,
alone,
a late arrival, early,
anticipated.
I heard my heart’s solo drumming
on my ribs resonating
until my misconstrued hunger and thirst turned keen
and translated
to amorousness.
My teen heart flamed.
Fervidness was defined.
And all music forever changed
its tune.
Feb. 9, 2019
Free Verse On Love- 10 Words- Pick A Prize Poetry Contest, Lu Loo
Stephanus Marcus Book 1
Canto 6
Verses 4 and 5
Now herald monarch's late arrival nigh.
From east his royal standard shows design.
A lion bold displays from pennant high -
courageous beast, a brave and noble sign.
King's escort knights are seen a riding line,
protective shield defending great their Sire.
Soon castle makes a feast of meat and wine,
Duke Morley's servants whole will never tire.
To please his Sovereign great is Morley's main desire.
Buffoons and jugglers, tumblers, actors make
King Richard’s stay that night a pleasant time.
Then day's new light brings jousting games that take
the stoutest knights that need must be in prime.
On mule clown rides, the winning knight doth mime,
and archer's contest made concludes the day.
A lutist plays a sweet song's tune of rhyme.
Soon priest chants prayer, an eve's melodic lay.
Forsooth, another night king's knights and he will stay
Protesting late arrival of spring
This long winter's been lingering
Seriously overstayed its welcome
Not leaving till it's warm and sunny
I’m staying indoors to shout and pout
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
AHA HAIKU 14
Old friend calls
How are you?
Song of long ago
~~~~~~~~~
Old condo ambience
Familiar faces converge;
Robot moods
~~~~~~~~~
Chinese tea
Aids digestion;
Sip fond brew
~~~~~~~~~
Cute boys charm
Innocence wakes up;
Naughty sparkles
~~~~~~~~~
Last journal entry
Some time ago;
Death punctuates
~~~~~~~~~
Illiterate old lady
Well-educated son;
Lovely finesse
~~~~~~~~~
In your eyes
Love tells;
Affair complete
~~~~~~~~~
Age comes clashing
Old bones brittle;
Mental meltdown
~~~~~~~~~
Cold morning wind
Wet warning sign;
Dark clouds cluster
~~~~~~~~~
In your fond smile
Love lingers long;
Sad farewell binds
~~~~~~~~~
Airport tarmac
Big birds fly;
Distant destinations
~~~~~~~~~
Blurry awareness
Early wake-up call;
Consciously sleepy
~~~~~~~~~
Poise of choice
Waiting game here;
Late arrival
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
06 June 2016
Singapore
Into the earth
is our final fate,
the best we can hope for
is to be really late...
Damn, I'm always 10 minutes
early for everything!
So we all face the weepy songs, throat clogged
just because its blue month with the rain running down.
So our stomachs quiver and we can’t quite turn
the doorknob, enter in to the late arrival complaints.
We forget them, next morning when the sun is strong
and our legs move us and our heart soars to sky.
And the breaking times, all alone, no one who understands
when nothing fits and we can’t figure out what went wrong,
we all have them sometime in our life, when our closest
teddy bear is a pillow smashed and covered with tears.
We set aside those memories, never going there again,
parent or child who died, suicide on mind that we recognize
in seeing you and hold you against the time you will reject
because even when we forget, we remember, all the deaths
and paint them yellow, plant the daisies, turn on brass
joyous refrains because having endured, we are strong.
Summer
late arrival
cooler than usual
sun timidly peeking through clouds
soon gone
rain turned snow
late arrival
heavenly fall of flakes
delays spring
asks another time when
spring delays
flakes of fall heavenly
arrival late
snow turned rain
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.