Long As luck would have it Poems

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Premium Member Forgotten and Repeated

I never fought in Vietnam…my parents never had to worry…to fear…to morn…for the simple reason my draft number was connected to the day that I was born.

I sat watching draft numbers being picked…wondering what I was going to do until my birthday draft number was finally called and I was 322.

As luck would have it I had a friend whose birthday was number 4….So I went off to college…while he went off to war.

A war that had been raging for 9 years…causing pain and grief and tears…
Sadly, the anguish and the agony of that war would rage on for 10 more years.

The soldiers who went off to fight…young men and women side by side…like any soldier in any war…they served, they fought…some died.

Over 58.000 young men and women died in that war…a number both sad and profound…some of their bodies never made it home…to this day they’ve never been found.

But those who returned alive from that Vietnam…found their war was out of fashion…they did not receive their country’s glory…nor their countrymen’s compassion.

It was a war that divided our county…pitting Americans against each other…
In the streets, to protest a war, we fought with our own sisters…our own brothers.

Yesterday we stopped at a park near a downtown South Florida neighborhood…where, to our surprise, a replica of the Vietnam War Memorial stood.

The wall was erected to memorialize these soldiers…whose lives went un-completed…with the hope the lessons from that war would never be forgotten…or repeated…

In a solemn, sobering moment I was filled with sadness…tears began to fall as I ran my fingers across the name of my friend upon that wall.

How sad it was to gaze out on all those names…trying to ascertain…after watching what Americans did to Americans this week…if my friend and all his friends hadn’t died in vain.

Wondering in the aftermath of a week where we ignored old lessons…where old mistakes were, once again, repeated…how many more people will be hurt…how many more lives will never be completed.

Wondering if it’s possible, as I ran my fingers along that wall…if there will ever be a time when there’ll be no wars at all…

I believe it is possible, without war, for people to come together, to compromise, to help their hate and anger cease…I believe every language has a word for this…
I believe that word…is PEACE
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Space Rock Climber

Space Rock Climber was born to the void
On an asteroid named for its ores and metals
Orbiting the sun one year after another
Morning never comes
Day never breaks
Silence goes on forever dead

A 10 year old son abandoned by parents
Who moved back to their home planet, Earth
The boy climbs rocks for a living on a rock

Food ran out two years ago
The climber turned to stones and minerals 
Surviving on dirt sustenance alone

Rocks stay in place forever with their flavor
Easy to hunt down in craters
                              
Black skies scream at the stars
Lack of atmosphere, depleted air
Low oxygen, no spare tanks, parental lies
Laid out on the platform of dark horizons

No one lives for long in outer space 
Parents should not leave their children all alone
Like so much liter waste and weightlessness 
He forgot their names
Embraced the great beyond as his domain

They had no room on board the ship they said
If only he were a little lighter
Perhaps he would fit between the gold and silver
Shipments of such commodities are revered

Rock climber has no name
It is not needed in this environment
Temperatures run from the sun 
From hot to cold as is expected
Climate fluctuates that way in space
The young man stays the same
Stands on solid ground
Time sets no limits on the day
As the asteroid tumbles on
No doubt it has directions figured out

A barren rock is not a proper home                                               
If he could remember, he would forget
It's for the best
Abandonment is not healthy for the mind 

Mom and dad left him minors tools 
Smiled and gave advice                                                      
They told him to climb high ridges
And wave good-bye

It is a trial out in space
Cry’s go unheard and serve no purpose
The vacuum of the void defines survival
This is the only world he knows

Rock Climber goes up the granite inclines  
To find minerals for his soul
He grows too old to work 
Then something happened

As luck would have it a collision just occurred  
An asteroid hit his little world
Hurled him and his rock back home
Finally he would see the Earth
Enter the atmosphere in a hurry
Just in time to tell his mom and dad
Don't worry!  Don't burn alone!
I'm here so we can have a blast together
Form: Epic

Last Call

Last Call
	
	This is where I feel at ease. Senses heightened subtly by the mixture of light and darkness. The night time lights; bar lights, street lamps, flashing fluorescent advertisements, candle light, moon light; nights are illuminated with versatility, glow sticks ever growing, ever changing the scenery.  The street lamps reflect in a puddle near the sidewalk.  Fleeting fluorescents pronounce the beauty of eclecticism.  Candlelight surpassed only by the light of moon’s romance
					
                                                                for whom do I emanate
					                        light and dark mingle	
					                        perceptions change according

	Reflecting back, I had no hips when I began my career. They were not necessary for my clients.  I beheld the warmth and beauty, starving for positive attention, and pleasing another, after family imprisonment had me chained down and kicked for so long.  (A flower for just a greeting, I had found my calling).   After thirty-three years in my lucrative, business, I have blossomed into the shape of an hourglass, with the wisdom and class that come naturally with study for my service.  I have a few fledglings of my own, able to sway their hips and converse interestingly with the painted lips of their chosen trade.  They will flourish alongside me, if they take my hard, learned lessons as gospel.
					
                                                                 youth is coveted by most
					                         stay fit or lose ground
					                         keep current and set high goals

	As luck would have it daddy broke naught my spirit, nor my bones, but did a job on my secret parts, sacred and hidden from others.  Wait!  What is this I understand?  I may work and emancipate myself!  Be freed of my family’s corrupt prison of Ugly.  I earned my papers at sixteen with family applause.  Scapegoats gone, time to more than survive….but thrive.  Yes, freedom is a state of mind, yet one’s mind holds only so much tenacity.

					                       supreme Judge is not human
					                       proper escorts, charm
					                       and will never hear, last call



						Sunshine Williams
Form: Haibun

Premium Member As Fate Would Have It

You never know when the day begins or until it is complete what twists and turns that day may take…or what people you might meet.

Today a nod to fate…or luck…or what many call destiny…this story revolves around two mechanics, some donuts…a soldier…and one dead car battery. 

After a wonderful time the day before…hiking, seeing animals…identifying trees and flowers…we decided to rise early and grab some donuts before visiting Bok Tower.

But when we tried to start our car…the battery was dead…already things were not going our way…it seemed that fate had other plans for the beginning of our day.

After getting a jump from our roadside service…(whom we immediately had called)…we drove to O’Reilly Auto Parts to have a new battery installed.

But this O’Reilly’s didn’t have our battery in stock…(that’s 2 twists of fate if you happen to be keeping score)…But Chris, the manager, found one at Eric’s O’Reilly’s and sent us to his store.

After paying for our new battery…(yes, it was a tidy sum)…and thanking Eric for installing it…we said in unison…”Bok Tower…here we come!”

Our car was running…we were happy…we were only 2 1/2 hours late…and then we remembered our donuts and thought…Bok Tower would have to wait.

As luck would have it…standing in front of us at The Donut Man shop…(which only added to fate’s intrigue)…was a soldier…how did we know he was a soldier?…he was wearing his fatigues.

We thought…we only had a little car trouble that delayed us getting on our way…and how that pales in comparison with what a soldier faces every day

So we told him to put away his money…that we would buy his donuts and whatever else he wanted too…as a way to thank him for his service…it was the least that we could do.

Tom, the soldier, realizing his day was also not going exactly as he planned…smiled, thanked both Deborah and me then before leaving…shook our hands.

Fate finally brought us to Bok Tower…and we’ll not soon forget the wonder fo such a beautiful place…nor the kindness of strangers we met along the way…or the smile on one soldier’s face.

I apologize for the length of this story…let’s just chalk it up to fate…but it is my hope…just like our donuts…oh…and Bok Tower…you found it worth the wait.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Champion Sister - Abuse

The moonlight shimmered through the ripples of the lake water
The stars danced about like the animals down under
Calm and peaceful, was the atmosphere there
She sat at the edge of the ridge with great wonder.

Staring out afar, her sadness disappeared
As she watched the beauty of nature unfold
Like a child she dangled her legs in the water
If the trees could talk what amazing stories could be told.

On the other end a couple lay in each others arms
Enjoying the scenery from above.
Stealing a kiss now and then and caressing each other
then glancing back in eyes that were full of love

This had been their favorite place and safe haven
Where she and her sister Lily, would come down to every night.
A tear began to fall as she remembered those times.
When they both would escape each time their mum and step dad would fight.

Hesitating at first, she turned, then looked back
And the painful memories appeared
Looking again at the house they once lived in,
where her sister and she had cowered in fear

Lily would hold her tight and dry away her tears
And magically produce a chocolate from under her sleeve
She would tell her stories of princes and princesses
And that they would come true if she just believed.

It was Lily’s way of comforting her, making her forget about the ordeal
Although she too was scared, she would hide away her pain
She pretended to be stronger just for her sister’s sake.
Though it killed her inside to watch her mum get beat up again

This was their waking nightmare every single night
Dwelling in isolation and a monster at their side
They thought it would never end, and this was their only fate
But as luck would have it, the man up above was always there to guide.

The monster had been defeated, dying by his own hand
Falling from the roof into to a spike on the ground
It killed him at once and not a tear was shed
Instead a sigh of relief was finally found.

She looked on the other end as the memories disappeared,
And smiled as she saw Lily still staring in her husband’s eyes
The past was gone and a bright future lay ahead
At peace now, as she sat and admired the beautiful night skies.
Form: Rhyme


Exploding Airbags

Exploding Airbags

There you have it, another car user death reported in an accident..
Somewhere in Houston , Detroit a 17 Year old is the latest statistic...

As in any day, while being on the road, we risk getting into an accident..
As luck would have it, most of us survive to live and tell, to relive the incident....

With the latest technological advances in vehicular safety incorporated in cars..
We all spare nary a second thought on the issue of exploding airbags in cars...

But this latest accident, what a scary piece of news for the unwary driver...
The car being driven, it could have been fitted with faulty air inflators...

There has been a massive recall on affected cars the world all over....
Is that nice family car you are driving one of these affected car models...

In this latest accident, this unlucky Richmond girl  rear ended another car...
Nothing to it, it was just a minor accident, another mishap involving cars...

In the words of the investigating police officer, most people safely walk away..
But in this unfortunate case, the sudden jolt triggered the airbag inflators...

Safe to imagine, the exploding force blasted to smithereens  metal canisters...
Imagine the split second moment of flying metal shards and shrapnels all over..

What an unimaginable deathtrap in the fine cosy interior of a nice family car...
If one is unlucky, one will not live to tell the tale of walking away unscathed..

So here it is, a little info on this unintentional death that endangers all drivers...
Each time we get into our nice family cars, are they safe enough, do you wonder?

http://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2016/05/05/honda-two-more-takata-linked-airbag-deaths-in-malaysia/
http://finance.yahoo.com/news/honda-reports-10th-us-death-192952748.html
http://finance.yahoo.com/news/11-people-died-due-exploding-200801611.
http://www.safercar.gov/rs/takata/takatalist.html
http://www.safercar.gov/

Premium Member Enough of That

There’s a fairy in my garden,
Her voice is rather rough
And when I asked her for her name
She answered, “Fairy Nuff.”

“That’s fair enough,” was my reply,
“It  seems to suit you well.”
“Oh no,” she said “I’m not like that,
I’m under someone’s spell.

I flirted with a Fairy Prince
On last year’s Halloween,
And just as luck would have it
I upset the Fairy Queen.

She said that I’m not Goody Nuff
And this of course is true,
For she is really rather posh
And very well-to-do.

The Fairy Queen just waved her wand
And said she’d had enough,
How dare I try to steal her son!
So now I’m Fairy Gruff.

My voice was always crystal clear
And I could sing so well
But now I croak pathetically,
A cracked and worn-out bell.

Well fancy that, just look who’s here,
My very handsome Prince!
We met at your Mum’s party
And I haven’t seen you since.

Oh yes, my voice!  That’s all her fault,
Her spells are very good,
She thinks I want to win your heart
And I would do if I could.

You’ve really set my wings on fire
With love and admiration
But your Mother has the final word,
You’re way above my station.

You like me, did I hear you say,
You care for me as well?
Then prove yourself my Fairy Prince
And break your Mother’s spell.

Yes of course, I’ll stand quite still
And close my eyes real tight
And when I’m Fairy Nuff again,
We’ll set the world alight.

Your Mother doesn’t frighten me,
She’s really not that mean,
We’ll let the strength of our regard
Placate the Fairy Queen.

We know that love can conquer all,
She must have heard that said
So when we seek her blessing
It’s sure that we will wed.”

Once more my garden’s empty
Except for flowers and stuff,
And it’s very quiet and peaceful
But I think that’s fair enough.

Premium Member Yippee-I-O-Ki-Ay

Ben raised up a dern disappointment, Daddy, well, he wanted a boy.
Wasn’t nothing under the bleeding red sun Ma could do but keep on a tryin’
Ya’siree, she was one branded filly and dern iffin that filly didn’t birth a maverick.
Daddy, well he had him some hard times a com’n 
and he didn’t ev’n try to hide his fallen face when Sis was born.
that un, well, she was maverick number two!

Daddy was the devil may care sort and him and his seed strayed far afield,
sowing his wild oats, praying for an heir, he himself was one
‘slick hairy dick’ so to speak [that’s cowboy lingo for a maverick himself]
and you know what they say, “The cow plop don’t fall far from its ****”
He kept on pokin’ Ma ‘till he got that boy, all nine caterwauling  pounds!
Dynasty founded, one hell of a shindig was thrown, as luck would have it,
Dad strayed, but not before he taught his gal’s not to take guff from any man!

Out on the range, Dad rounded up a couple more Betty’s
“Yehaw, did that brand sizzle” got his self a couple more bucko’s
for the dynasty and another sweet filly, all of them mavericks to the core.
Funny thing is old Dad’s gal’s got more balls then most men.
So, I guess in the end [wink] he taught us well!


*This is a Cowboy Poem, it is a maverick to it's form because

Cowboy poetry is rhymed, metered verse written by someone who has lived a significant portion of his or her life in Western North American cattle culture. The verse reflects an intimate knowledge of that way of life, and the community. 
[Never lived in the West, don't like anything that looks at me with one eye! 
"...names have been changed to protect the innocent."

P.S. I'm the maverick!

Larking In the Mud With Grandad

I, to the pasture's green could run, 
and fly a kite beside the sun,
but choose, I do, to linger still, 
among the dirt, what is my frill?

Low, be it may, to sink my feet, 
into the slimy, pungent peat, 
but with my grandad by my side, 
would daily stroll along the tide.
To rescue guls stuck in the mud,
or gather sticks for firewood. 

As luck would have it on one day, 
the tides did change and under clay,
a viking boat from days gone by, 
with shields of pine and rivots ply. 
Unmasked itself from muddy deep, 
a secret for ourselves to keep.

Each day, we returned, with a spade,
with picnic full of marmalade,
and feasted there beside the boat,
in our wool hat and winter coat.
Charmed not only by history, 
but by such untold mystery. 

Then on one fateful dreaded night, 
the waves were high, the wind a fright, 
storms blasted down upon the shore,
Until the longboat was no more. 

My granddad early on that day, 
forgot to mention or to say, 
he felt unwell, or rather ill,
but trudgeoned on, a soldier still.
But in the haste of wind and gale,
I didn't realise he was pale.

By the morning when I awoke,
to no smell of cigarette smoke. 
I went downstairs and saw the fridge,
his oatmeal there, still on the ridge. 

Maybe a lie in, thought my head, 
I ran upstairs to grandad's bed. 
There asleep, I thought at a glance, 
I nudged him, but he kept his stance. 
He was gone, how? I hugged him tight, 
and ran for the river at twilight. 

So here I am beside the tide, 
Waiting for the mud to reside. 
But if it does, what shall I do? 
For treasure is nought, without you.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Primed For Serendipity

As luck would have it
I chanced upon the secret
of finding things not looked for,
to enlist serendipity on cue.

The more you look the less you see.
Stop looking for, and start looking about.
Expectation kills spontaneity.
So, stop planning itineraries.

If you take a planned tour
on a planned route to see
the things you quest for,
You'll only get what you ordered on the menu.

But if you look about
and see an opportunity
in an open door off the beaten track,
you are ready to allow chance 
happenings to surprise you.

Many great discoveries 
in Science were made this way:
Penicillin discovered in dirty dishes, after a vacation
The micro-wave oven, when chocolate bar in pocket melted 
Post-it note, a not so sticky glue
Velcro, when hiking and seeing how burrs hook onto hair
Radioactivity, when Uranium left on photo plate in drawer overnight.

Two things stand out here:
Firstly, doing something unusual, unplanned, as if by accident
Secondly, being aware that the unexpected has happened,
and taking time to investigate it.
An inquisitive mind feeds on serendipitous encounters.

The opposite of serendipity is *zemblanity:
Which is discovering unlucky expected outcomes you planned for,
when you make unhappy, unlucky and expected discoveries by design.
It is the inevitable unsurprising uncovering 
of what we expected, and would rather not know.

So now you know, it is better 
to look about, than to look for,
to allow serendipitous encounters 
to happen more by chance.

---------------
9 May 2017

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