Long Ascertained Poems
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An Angel, came in human form.
Arrived at my house about noon.
I knew he had a spirit, for he was
past any norm.
And my keen, mystical soul, was
right with him in tune.
We chatted for just a bit...
The uniqueness of his spirit showed.
I did not want him to ever leave
or quit.
For as I ascertained, I was in a most
heavenly zone.
Suddenly, I looked down, and the startled
to see the that Angel had but one leg!
It quite startled me, greatly because he
had such great agility.
I was at a loss for words when he told me
he was more than grateful?
To say that I was astonished, is to meet him
goes beyond anything fateful.
He was perhaps but twenty-five, at most,
I gathered as he related.
A great wife and two children and
seeking a job was he, which all three
he celebrated.
The story goes a drunk driver, ten years ago
hit him and there went his leg.
But to him, it was a night with gratitude
he celebrated.
He made me look at my life here
at the Soup.
I should be grateful and elated!
But my ego crushes me, with few
comments I feel diminished, and
yes deflated.
Now here was an Angel, who told
me, he ran obstacle courses
around the world!!
And here I was, thinking at Poetry
Soup feeling all deflated.
He stood with one leg in contrast
like a magnificent,glowing emerald!
I never came here to be famous
or seeking any poetic glory.
It took an Angel with but one leg,
To remind me to stop sniveling and
groaning.
To seek to give, not have others listen
to my insipid, selfish moanings.
September 3, 2020
5:30am PST
* Requestiing positive responses, no
discussion on drinking, please*
One look at this photo…I see I’m missing some hair
and if I’m not mistaken my eyelids have slid
although it’s really quite difficult for me to know
because I don’t see as clearly as at one time I did.
My hearing is going, which I don’t understand
and I ask this with as much confusion as vigor…
How am I able to hear less now that I’m older
when my ears have gotten bigger and bigger?
And don’t get me started about my memory
for hardly does there come a day…
When…wait!…there…it happened again
I forgot what I was going to say…
But when I put the photo down and walk through my house
my misery quickly comes to and end
For wherever I look I see reminders and remnants
of a life filled with family and friends…
Reminding me as I get older
Something I long ago ascertained…
Not to concentrate on the things that I’ve lost
but instead…
on the things that I’ve gained.
From some week
Nauseous I feel
Last month my period also ceased
I'd gone to Doctor
"You are preggy"
She congratulated me.
A sweet smile ran through my lips
Oh! I was tickled pink
But wait..
Is it any pleasantary?
I'm preggy? So funny it is.
I'm just seventeen
Having no boyfriend
Or any such relationship
Again, she checked
But this time, she was amazed
She ascertained my virginity
Also assured my pregnancy
Spiralled up from blank theory
She culminated "Miracle in my uterine cavity "
I went to the library
turned the pages of biology
Found the term Parthenogenesis
A process in which
Female egg converted into offspring
Without fertilizing it
But this was never seen in human
Maybe I'm the first one -I fathomed
It means I lost virginity in my brain
Which induces the secretion of hormone
& thus all other events made
But with whom? When? & Where?
Suddenly I saw my dreammachine
& everything got clear
That I purchased from the science fair
In which I uploaded, pics of shri Krishn
With whom I spent, my all nights in the Dream
Biologists regarded this
As Super parthenogenesis
After some months or more
I gave birth to a demigod
& my virtual husband is my lord
15March 2018
Poetry contest "Science Fiction"
Sponsored by "Deborah Guenther Beachboard"
Porthos Starshipbroken?
There was a dog on Enterprise
Whose smell T’Pol like to exorcise–
A beagle named Porthos,
On Capt. Archer’s bed, he would repose.
Where did Archer pick up this hound?
Did he get him from a futuristic pound
Where training was already acquired
So he would be starshipbroken as required?
It was left unexplained
And the audience never ascertained
How Archer did dispose
Of the poop from Porthos?
Would Archer find little gifts
After especially long duty shifts
From a pooch cooped in his quarter
Prompting a cleanup by transporter?
Would Porthos do like bad dogs
Leaving soft logs
On every deck
Entailing a crew shoe check?
Was the recycler used on his poo
To make it into a shoe?
Would you want to place your foot therein
Wondering what you’re stepping in?
When Archer gave cheesy snacks
Giving Porthos intestinal attacks
Who was blessed
With cleaning the mess?
Did Porthos have a litter box
Or did Archer give him hall walks?
All these questions here posed,
In Star Trek: Enterprise were not disclosed.
But lastly, there is one more complication
That I have considered with much consternation.
What really bothers me
Is where that poor dog did his wee?
Contest – Everyone Poops – Roy Jerden
07/29/15
Having not done the things I wanted to do
and the things I've done not being what I wanted to do
I sit here looking at lichen on the north side of trees.
Black-capped chickadees
cheerful and truthful expression
grouped in platoons, sharing the point.
The tribes travel together
first finches, then chickadees
following the squirrels every morning.
What luxury, abundance! Handful after handful
of grass seed thrown, into wind.
The corn ripe and the rye with it.
The other main families: pines, roses, peas,
lilies, daisies, heath, birch and oak.
Maple, honeysuckle, pink, mustard, cypress, mint, olive, buckwheat,
primrose, willow, buttercup, saxifrage, snapdragon, cactus.
Truth may be ascertained by considering
the truth we feel, the truth we're told,
the truth we reason, and the truth we've seen.
It is so good to be a chickadee.
To tell the truth cheerfully and joyfully
in a way that makes others want to live.
The deletion of one's post will then have a direct impact on one's totality of posts being reduced by that action, in equal numbers,
where the relevancy will be the act of adding a post to one's totality of their posts being increased by that action, in equal number.
The consequences of those plus or minus acts should directly impact one's posts encountering a stipulation.
Albeit, the modus operandi forestalls, at which point the deletion of two posts almost immediate to each other, and in pursuit, similarly its totality reduced, with the recommended window for numbered of privileged posts--
--Should have ascertained relief of two deletions upon its immediacy, an act for an act, and be accorded the window of opportunity times two within the same time frame:
~~ Explanations needless warranty of a suspenseful guesstimate.
Six months after my Mother decided to move
out of the house, which only she and I shared.
Had not surprisingly been swept on a messy path
during preceding time.
In nondescript depot, Northern suburbs of Adelaide
We met while waiting on stationary city bound bus
I was 16, you 14, shared only gender and addiction
Your two finger signal to me, initial encouragement
Together we stepped out, sat down with ease
A pocket produced the cigarette you requested
Yet to realise your soon apparent clairvoyance
As my Angel, our meeting was ardour suspended
With nonchalance of street-wise, I shrugged a reply
"Just heading to the City, - see what's going on"
You ascertained vague expression between lines
Guaged I had nowhere prescribed to belong
Insistence that I come to your house unwarranted
I swallowed order with gratitude, steaming broth's bowl
Shock shot lame my stiff stance, flowing warmth translated
Riding the bus beside a friend, unlikely dream unfolded
A typical teenager, you lived with your family, to become
My family for the next four months, a premature adult's reprieve
Your three sisters, one brother equalled four full bedrooms
Her pure generosity allowed your Mum to willingly shelter me
Had my cashless, city bound track occurred, I shudder
to guess at possible horror hapless trajectory offered
Shahanna, the miracle of our co inciding invited my rescue
A chance for childhood dependance given to the discarded
Indebted to Shahanna's proximity, God's will
I've always said no to drugs but my friend didn't do the same.
When a person dies of an overdose, it's always a damn shame.
John learned the hard way that a man reaps what he sews.
Every time drugs were offered to him, I wish he had said no.
I'm not certain what he overdosed on, it may have been Meth.
When my friend of forty years overdosed, he drew his last breath.
I recently read that Meth damages the lungs, kidneys, liver, heart and brain.
John might have rejected Meth if that was something he could've ascertained.
Years ago, I tried to convince him to get some help but my words always fell on deaf ears.
He was forty-eight but if he had said no to drugs, he could've lived for many more years.
[Dedicated to John W. Brown (1970-2019) who died on June 3, 2019.]
I shall forever remain
a night’s celestial pilgrim
meandering beneath
the skyscape’s towering dome --
And along the cobblestone
of luminous runways,
jewels of flamed beamers seem to flick
beyond earth’s tableau as the grandeur
from anonymous stars explode,
That I imagine Orion’s groove
whirling around a trillion cosmic moons—
nameless yet ascertained...
for some percieved reason, each nova
circles on its own orbital zone
pulsing then ebbing through my
enigmatic impression ... until
I am devoured by each shimmer,
each odyssey, each dancelight--
making my quill’s ink curdle again.
Pareidolia Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish 8/22/2020
It was always this way at Christmas…
Does he open my gift first
Or do I pull the wrapping from his?
Will I love what he’s given me?
The only true promise of harmony
Was allowing the wrappings to be ripped off
At nearly the same time
Will I love what he’s given me?
When the gift was there, ascertained
Established as the year’s best guess of a wish
That only the wisher could truly discern
Is this gift truly a dream wish, a fantasy, a miracle
Or is it only the hidden wisdom behind kind eyes
Will I love what he’s given me?
Will either of us ever know, for certain, that our gift
Was the answer to the other’s hopeful expression?
Will either of us ever give the gift and know it is the one
That will go down in history as the “One”!!!
Will I love what he’s given me?
Then, with all thoughts of wrapping paper and bows past,
A single clear laugh from a child vibrates through the house
Ringing out the gift that will forever remain the “One”
I love what he’s given me!!!!
Written on August 28th, 2014
©2014 by Regina Riddle