Long Apiece Poems
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18 Stoic Faces
- by Bob Atkinson
eighteen stoic faces
faced four who had come
to read the erudite refrains
of poets both dead and gone
readings were in earnest spoken
for respect for some who had
garnered from the establishment
accolades, awards, well sanctioned
yes, eighteen stoic faces
faced four who read so good
those meaningless diatribes
of useless linguistic words
significance became not evident
for similes provided here
metaphors vaguely crafted caused
me not them to revere
this didn't change my attitude
my demeanor didn't rise
waiting for an end to it
was my only real desire
so I couldn't clap and whistle
and be smiling in my face
that would not have been sincere
became just a little bit ashamed
whistle I didn't do at all
felt not much real emotion
gave a polite nod to those speaking
headed quickly out the door
save me from disjointed thoughts
can't those people see the truth
senseless disorganization
does not good poetry produce
of those thoughts not poetry
I firmly do believe
the fireplace requires cellulose
for bright flames to feed
listless words written poorly
carried my imagination not
was frozen in my dreamy state
rusted any worthwhile thoughts
next week went to Vegas
to see the eagle band
and watch as pure emotion
rocked that audience grand
ten thousand had paid apiece
a couple hundred bucks
to see those wordly masters
like Henley, Frey and such
they told of the situation
which emotion played upon
a woman's real life choices
why she'd become despondent
ten thousand cheered upon
recognition of great words
displayed while coddled with sounds
soft guitars and drums beat purrs
I thought "now here lies real poetry"
not those prissy kind of words
that speak only of the unimportant
with wispy mindless verbs
some lock credentials grand
for that which moves us not
and laugh at the suggestion
that song is our greatest art
me, I have a vision
that we shall all enjoy
songs we've grown up with
as emotional literal tomes
John 2: 1-12
21st Century King James Version
2 And on the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there;
2 and both Jesus and His disciples were called to the marriage.
3 And when they lacked wine, the mother of Jesus said unto Him, “They have no wine.”
4 Jesus said unto her, “Woman, what have I to do with thee? Mine hour is not yet come.”
5 His mother said unto the servants, “Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it.”
6 And there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of the purifying of the Jews, holding twenty to thirty gallons apiece.
7 Jesus said unto them, “Fill the waterpots with water.” And they filled them up to the brim.
8 And He said unto them, “Draw some out now, and bear it unto the governor of the feast.” And they took it.
9 When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, not knowing from whence it had come (but the servants who drew the water knew), the governor of the feast called the bridegroom
10 and said unto him, “Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine, and when men have drunk well, then that which is worse; but thou hast kept the good wine until now.”
11 This beginning of miracles Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth His glory; and His disciples believed in Him.
12 After this He went down to Capernaum, He and His mother and His brethren and His disciples; and they continued there a few days.
Look at verse 3 and 5 again. Read it several times. Think about it. Ponder on it. Why would His mother tell Him they had run out of wine? What had she seen and heard from Him from the time even before He was born? Had He performed miracles all His life? Did He only start performing miracles at age 12? Did Jesus' mother know that Jesus would be able to handle the situation no matter what? Think on these things and come up with some of your own.
On Reading Bertrand Russell --
A History of Western Philosophy
copyright date 1945
Trenchant treatise purchased
August 25th, 2020
at Limerick Chapel Book Sale
(in Church gym)
offered old library books
cost 25 cents apiece.
Musty tome
seventy five years out of print
found welcome home
nevertheless mine brown
myopic eyes eagerly roam
affixing knowledge
within fifty plus shades
double fisted size
gray matter with cerebral dome.
Aging long haired pencil necked geek
said storied author I effusively bespeak,
his whose pedantic trademark style
revered analogous to beholding
resplendent riches property
of selfless sheikh.
Impossible mission to describe
intoxicating sensation when
yours truly doth imbibe
superfluous words cannot oversubscribe
most august emotional vibe.
Though agog where euphoria doth alight
each word, sentence, paragraph...
metaphorical tasty bite
read outloud with deliberate delight
(tis akin to kid in candy store)
senses luxuriate across
elapsed millenniums excite
genuine fanciful flight
comfortably numbskull buzzfeeding
until time for goodnight
becoming learned about height
civilizations flourished
food for thought insight
bedazzling mental receptors
as if fingers fondle jadeite
perhaps carved as
chess piece (think) knight
phosphorescence generating light
emanating courtesy enthusiasm
powered thru awesome might
thru simple pleasure reading
me oblivious to approach of night
ever since boyhood reveled within world
printed pages poured splendor
(worth more than fine spun gold) outright
dependable catharsis to ameliorate
most any psychological plight
strong medicine agreeable with
garden variety generic bookworm quite
now if ye will please pardon me
aye venture to experience
remote contra dancing right
fully ceased going since coronavirus (COVID-19),
if curious just access
https://www.thursdaycontra.com/
virtualDance.html website.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
If you only knew ...,
of that thawing night
when stars had lost their way,
ran to hand you my umbrella,
and as we heard that distant rain
we smiled apiece as you held relief,
in a special short-of-weigh.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Be it around, --top side face down,
feign torn grace,
and in a timely space,
a grin climbed and left
an accord in its solace realm ..., to laughter in the raining,
--and you ...,
Lord, seems tis, not a prayer or psalm ..., art returns a painting.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
My heart reigned of its love,
in the fullness thereof,
--absent to voice,
--errs to choice,
gifts to air,
Heaven's due prayer,
for I confess
a mere request.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What seldom laws--transcending wonder,
perfumed with flaws, scents pause of one?
A blessing by Grace to trend her proper smile,
and steads farewell fairs,
... let the rain remain
... for a while?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
My Mona ...,
my Lisa ...,
my evermore ...,
If you only knew.
I remember the day of my nine pitch inning.
Though it happened over forty years ago.
The day was hot, yet cloudy,very little breeze.
I went through my usual stretching and running.
The guys knew to leave me alone before the game.
The stadium was slowly filling, an early crowd.
It had rained in the morning and the grass was damp.
The fresh cut grass was sticking to my cleats,
which meant the mound's clay would too.
I didn't know much about the other team,
except they were from the Red's organization.
Then again they'd never seen me either.
We were the home team, so I took the mound first.
My catcher and I had just met, me having just been brought up.
We decided to go all fast balls to get into a rhythm.
The first batter stepped up, a tall right handed hitter.
Tom my catcher set up with the center of his body,
six inches off the outside of the plate.
This meant if I hit the glove where he had it,
it would be a ball.I used a two seam grip,
putting pressure on the outside finger.
This would make the ball appear futher out,
before breaking about seven inches towards the hitter.
Still a ball, but something for him to see,
to leave in his mind.To our amazement the umpire
set up directly,behind my cathcher.
The call, strike one!Tom and I looked at each other and smiled.
I immediately changed to a four seam grip,
which stays on a truer line.The next two pitches were six inches off
yet called strike two!Strike three!
The next two batters were set down in order.
Three pitches apiece.All balls.All called strikes.
After that inning and a few helmets slammed,
along with a few bats.We never got that pitch called
a strike again.The umpire had called those pitches,
not by the plate, but, by the center of my catcher.
We thought it funny to strike three guys out,
on nine pitches, none that were actually a strike,
And none that were swung on by any batter.
contest..Batter Up
Thirty-one packs of chewing gum,
Clutter up my drawer,
And thirty-one times thereafter,
I forgot thirty-one times more,
And bought thirty-one times yet again
Seems somehow I found
Thirty-one more times,
I had thirty-one more such a yen...
This went on for thirty-one more months,
Till thirty-one drawers were jammed
Tried to open them thirty-one times apiece,
And thirty-one times closed they slammed
Not only thirty-one drawers overpacked,
But thirty one over heated summer days,
Made thirty-one globs,
Of thirty-one pounds of sticky glaze
With thirty one times prying
With thirty-one different sized crow bars...
Thirty-one hours of trying....
Could have far easier
Gone thirty one times to Mars....
But now thirty-one stringly spidery strands
Of thirty one thousand gummy stringy drawer glands
My kitchen is inaccessible
I've tried thirty one hundred times
With thirty-one ever increasing sized
Machetes, and thirty one ever
More dificult rhymes
So I sent away for thirty one extra large
Gummy-Bears,
Thinking for sure thirty-one ways they knew,
How to fight their way with thirty one set of claws,
And make way for me or you
But what I found out after thirty-one deliveries
Of thirty-one huge Gummy Bears,
Each Thirty-one dollars and
Thirty-one sets of change
And thirty-one shipping and handling
Charges, and this was really strange
My thirty -one huge Gummy Bears
Each melted in the kitchen too
Making thirty one more tons of
Thirty-one sticky gobs of goo
So I sealed off my kitchen
with thirty-one tons of bricks,
In honor of Mr. Poe,
And just to get my kicks,
I placed a Cask of Amontillado
It's seepage made me lick my lips...
Now I Barbeque on the patio,
In the heat, or in the snow...
Scrambled eggs a bit tricky,
But better than that sticky
Thirty-one varieties
Of thirty one tons
Of sticky goo
Gettin' all over my thirty-one
Inch "buns".
John 2: 1-12
21st Century King James Version
2 And on the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there;
2 and both Jesus and His disciples were called to the marriage.
3 And when they lacked wine, the mother of Jesus said unto Him, “They have no wine.”
4 Jesus said unto her, “Woman, what have I to do with thee? Mine hour is not yet come.”
5 His mother said unto the servants, “Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it.”
6 And there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of the purifying of the Jews, holding twenty to thirty gallons apiece.
7 Jesus said unto them, “Fill the waterpots with water.” And they filled them up to the brim.
8 And He said unto them, “Draw some out now, and bear it unto the governor of the feast.” And they took it.
9 When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, not knowing from whence it had come (but the servants who drew the water knew), the governor of the feast called the bridegroom
10 and said unto him, “Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine, and when men have drunk well, then that which is worse; but thou hast kept the good wine until now.”
11 This beginning of miracles Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth His glory; and His disciples believed in Him.
12 After this He went down to Capernaum, He and His mother and His brethren and His disciples; and they continued there a few days.
Explore verse 10 in more detail: Remember the Jewish nation was under the law in their religion. The law said that they had to do ceremonial washing and the pots that were filled were ceremonial pots. The water was turned into wine, a wine better than that which was served first to the guests. God sent the law, the prophets and then at last God sent His own Son. God saved the best for last. Hallejulah ..
written twelve years ago
when yours truly about two score
and twelve years old,
and fishy financial fiasco
about twenty six weeks
before being scalloped
courtesy villainous fraudster
otherwise known as scam artists,
blithely, glibly, and pliantly
fleeced with shear trickery
my coveted nest egg.
TO: TWO PRECIOUS HARRIS LASSES
WHO LIVE ON GREENTREE LANE
THIS FAST APPROACHING CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY
AS WILL READILY BECAME PLAIN
RECEIVED A SPARTAN GOVERNMENT LARGESSE
WHICH AFFORDS PRESENT
ONLY ONE BOX OF COAL APIECE
DISAPPOINTMENT THIS PA
HUMBUG HO HUM FELLOW
WILL TRY TO EXPLAIN.
OUTRAGEOUS COSTS
TO CLOTHE ELVES
WHAT WITH DESIGNER CLOTHES
AND THE LATEST TECHNOLOGICAL GIZMO
NEARLY BROKE THE PIGGY BANK
IN ADDITION TO FEED THE REINDEER
COMPOSED OF BUCKS AND DOES
THIS I TELL YOU
TO BE EARNEST AND FRANK
WHICH GRUELING BUSINESS
NEARLY FOUND LITTLE ASS(ETS) FROZE
THIS GOVERNMENT ACTION
NO HALLOWEEN PRANK
NEARLY FOUND ME BEHIND BARS
ADDING TO UNFORTUNATE WOES.
SMALL TOKENS ACQUIRED
BY THE ABILITY TO SCRIMP AND SAVE
A PITTANCE COMPARED
TO LAST YULETIDE
YET NO INTENT TO BE MEAN SPIRITED
NOR RANT OR RAVE
FOR BOUNDLESS LOVE SPILLS FORTH
FROM SENSITIVE PRIDE
NO MATTER SOME
PERCEIVE ME UNSAINTLY
PURSE NICKETY KNAVE
RANK AS A WORSE CREATION
THAN FRANKENSTEIN’S BRIDE.
TRY TO REMEMBER
TIS THE THOUGHT
FROM WITHIN TO GIVE EACH
AND EXTEND THE SPIRIT
OF GOOD CHEER
THAT COUNTS MORE
THAN SPEND LAVISHLY
AND TO REALLY TEACH
SO CHERISH EACH
AND EVERY MOMENT
WITH PASSION TO SPARE.
NOW ONWARD AND UPWARD HO
WITH THE SOUND OF SLEIGH BELLS
BACK TO THE NORTH POLE
THIS POOPED OUT HERD WILL GO
AND THE EXPECTED GIFT
FROM THE MISSUS A LUMP OF COAL
PLUS A LAUNDRY LIST
OF DUTIES PERFORMED
WHILE ENDURING TEMPERATURES
(INCLUDING WIND CHILL FACTOR)
THAT FEEL LIKE…
WELL BELOW ONE HUNDRED BELOW.
Some people have drama every day.
Their house burned down three times this week.
They are wearing a cast on their leg again.
Their dog ran away, dragging her dog house.
Their wedding ring popped off and down a sewer drain.
They discovered their husband has three other wives.
I know one of these Bad Luck Queens quite well. She is always stirred up.
Loud and proud, a horror story, and perpetually late to work besides.
Notoriously late, expectedly late. Let’s call her Agnes.
She has the worst luck every day. A strange man was in her house.
She could not come to work before she got him out of there.
She had a fender bender. There were no witnesses,
so she had to wait for the police.
Someone broke down the front door of her house in the middle of the night
And took all her kid’s Christmas presents for the sixth year in a row.
Her grandmother ran away from the old folk’s home on Tuesday.
She has been found, but Agnes has to take off early today
to find her a new place.
Suggestions are made but Agnes has tried everything. Nothing works for her.
Her life is perpetually upside down, topsy-turvy, in the toilet.
She has a small cut, and she wonders if it is cancer.
It is almost like she hopes it is.
She never has enough money for lunch.
Can she please have your extra can of soup?
She is so grateful for any help she can get.
When we first met her, we were more than willing to loan her
a candy bar, can of soup, and
Sometimes money. Nothing ever gets back though,
so now it is the newbies who are rallying
To have a little party for her.
They think we savvy survivors are horrible for not wanting to cough up a mere dollar apiece for her grandmother's funeral, not realizing we have already coughed up a dollar for nineteen of Agnes' grandmothers' funerals.
Agnes, the Bad Luck Queen, interesting every time she is seen.
The day you wore born my whole word became complete. We toke you home for
the whole family to meet, you never left my side until the night you turned blue
and almost died. We rushed to the hospital hoping they could save you, I
wondered in my head was I a bad mother, what did I do to hurt you? We waited
three hours before we could see you. They said there is hope for you. We toke
you home with all the little machines each one was attached to you. At night I
would lay a wake looking at you. If I could not hear your machines I would jump
up and awake you. We would go for walks; your big sister always wanted you.
You looked like your daddy, but with mommy’s eyes. You have the cutest laugh
that would make any one smile... I thought we where going to make it. We where
going to have a great life. Your seven months now, you just got your first two
teeth. Eating baby food. Playing with your little feet. I knew you where still sick with
all the trips to the hospital. I thought you would be fine… but the last time we toke
you, they said you could not breathe. My heart fell into pieces, but I knew I had to
be strong. I set there think you where going to be ok, that we would be going
home in a few weeks. But your body was tired and to weak. You needed bigger
machines. It was time to sign the form. And let you be. They tried eight months
and a day, but there was nothing else they could do. I held you one more time as
your little face turned blue, Ooh how I mourn for you as you lay lifeless, cold in my
arms. I said my good byes. But when my little angel left the room apiece of my
heart left with him too. That night we drove home, but in side I felt dead too. Till
this very day I still cry for you.