Long Barely Poems
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Looks like it has a firm foundation
A nice yard for kids to play
Walls sturdy and insulated
And a long rounded driveway
There's a paddock in the back
A barn fit for royalty
A stream with fresh fish
And an owner known for loyalty
He made a promise, unprovoked
I received, and drove on, down the road
Losing friends, cars, homes
As the grief kept piling on my heavy load
Again and again, the path winds
Hills and valleys come and go
Hope barely remains in tact
When will I reap the harvest LOVE sews
Today I passed a marker on the way
No, it was the threshold of a door
My fears are the enemy
That have kept me from having more
Money and men seeking power
Stood as black smoke over my eyes
But today I see the ARCHITECT
And we rejected the lies
I am worthy of all I desire
The jewels of my heart proclaim
I open and welcome
Blessings and honor assigned to my name.
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-21-2025
Pathological liars lie to hide behind the lie,
terrified of their honest truth becoming realized
which they hide in their fragile mind kept captive 'til they die
as they seek attention through misdirection mastered over time
repeatedly repeating start believing their own words
as people slowly start to see dishonesty absurd
and if you point out what's occurring things only get worse
as they defend with hostile nerve sticking to what they've served
as lies back lies that back the lies they say you misunderstood
then they will explain that already explained as though it adds true worth
clearly they aren't backing down and think your brain don't work
so you decide to let it go, and with that so, they believe their good
this is when delusion spawns an elevated perch
next they lie without effort and thoughts are barely searched
they think they've got a natural skill that others can't assert
as everyone else looks at them thinking "what a total berk"
they think never admitting the lie means they are never lying
and therefore nothing can be proved so they stick to denying
oh my god their logic's lost somewhere or it is skiving
just be bloody honest mate, respect for you is dying
of course they think they've done it well so they wont pay attention,
absolutely barking mad living in a demented dimension
4/27/17
Winter, Spring, Summer and Autumn
Changes rarely or often
Occuring by the top of the river mouth and at the bottom
Near and far from fruits and vegetables still fresh or rotten
As well as any flowers starting to blossom
Fields full or barely with any cotton or pollen
House that do or don't have a black cauldron
On the walls paintings or posters of batman and robin
I stood solemn
And navigated inbetween columns
Before I saw a downtrodden
Individual with the stature of gollum
They were drinking some concoction
Out of a goblet and eating an opossum
Inside a sodden area full of toxins
I had options
But stopped to talk and help if they had a problem
Untrusting and unresponsive
Until they started to soften
When I spoke truthfully, they began feeling awesome
Then reached the goal, by using their noggin
Realizing we all are allotted
So much time even if more is what you wanted
Whether or not you paid homage
And seeked wealth and knowledge
Always had a little or a lot in common
Many a times I have fallen
Been long forgotten
Heed with caution
And watch it
I'm coming in with more speed than an aeronautic rocket
And the force of a super sonic comet
Sorry that it makes you uncomfortable and on the verge of being
about to vomit
No I'm not, to be honest
The reason the house is so called haunted
The monster underneath your bed and inside your closet
With more clarity than any prophet
Amid molecules that split or bonded
Lines remained dotted
Or connected in and out of any quadrant
As the universe was in constant
Motion with occasional paradoxes
By: Dalton Ogletree
She is on a path, spiraling down, down, down
I feel the need to save her, but it's impossible, I've found
An alcoholic with a drink, is never a good sign
But as she would say, it's her life, not mine
Her words, like poison running through my veins
Schizophrenic actions, constantly changing lanes
The only company she keeps is those suffering the same disease
Doors slammed in my face, despite my many plea's
Ignorance would be my only saving grace
She could paint a pretty picture to hold before my face
It's too late, I'm afraid, to play dumb in deceit
My opinions have been exposed, an unchangeable concrete
It's easy for others to tell me that I must let her be grown
They don't understand, she can't make it on her own
I have always been near, arms open and prepared
On the edge of my seat, waiting and scared
That pending phone call that would shatter me inside
The worst possible destination for this agonizing ride
Where will it leave me!? If that tragedy transpires
Consumed with sadness and guilt, my existence on fire
So what shall I do, I want the right damn answer
What will save her and I from an ending of disaster
She is on a path, spiraling down, down, down
Our heads are barely afloat, a matter of time till we drown
This pen is cracked and broken but luckily it still writes.
The ink is almost at an end
low, down in the point, barely visible.
Did you ever use a pen to its very end
from start to finish, the very same pen?
Interesting.
Pens are so disposable
unlike thoughts,
unlike feelings,
unlike emotions.
Memories are like pens holding our pasts
full, clear and thick in the beginning,
then draining, fading with the years,
then skipping, missing spots with overwriting.
The important things though tend to last
held fast, like permanent ink
kept safe, recorded,
written in our hearts.
This enlisted soul
At eighteen years old
Barely a man
Not even street wise told
From the proms, to the camp
He kits out tomorrow
His future he stamps
Never knowing bloodied sorrow
In just under a year
He's older and wiser
To a theatre so different
Says his military adviser
Overseas he heads
Thoughts of back home
What goes through his mind
In eighteen years old roam
Where could he have been
In so short a time
Colouring books
Making joining words rhyme
As he looks to his background
What does he see
An eagle soaring
In the land of the free
The statue of liberty
And the bill of rights
With the thirteen stripes
And the stars to delight
He is just a boy
In grown up clothes
Another one lost
To a cause we will loathe
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-4.php
The storm comes at midnight
It will be quite a sight if I’m right
Preceding it barely a sight will make many angry and scared
The sight could be anything
…
Ha! Yes, even to those prepared
… You seem confused, let me explain
Lightning will flash in the sky
Which likely will be the revealing of a terrible lie
But truly it will all start with a single voice
Then everyone will have a choice
With the crack of thunder
Every person will choose which side to try to drive asunder
…
Hmm?
…
Now you see I’ve been thinking about this quite a lot
I know being saved will not be bought
You see in an ironic way it is kind funny
What’s coming will be beyond money
…
Ah yes! I’m glad you asked
After the horrible thundering
Worse will come
The storm will hit
As broiling black clouds roll over
Rain will strike the faces already damp
As the angry clouds weep in furious pity
Ribbons of red will wave in every city
… Do you fear?
…
I’m dearly sorry
But here comes a worse part
See the beginning was merely an inevitable start
In comes more lightning and thunder
Each striking with sorry fury
No one away will scurry
…
Because they don’t want to
…
(Sad sigh) Yes… yes… we are all just sorry little fools
…
Ask me more than just “Why?” Elaborate
…
Ah, yes
See the lightning is the light to see
But the thunder is the response
Funnily enough the reveal is destruction’s key
The light does nothing but begins what will come
…
Yes this is the storm
You might wonder how could this have so much damage
Surely the world isn’t in such an unprepared form?
Fools!
Not just you! Look around! Why is it you think we’re so perfectly steady?!?
Not only are we ready with no preparation
It’s been that way so long I can see the clouds already!
Dusk is already past!
Midnight is just an hour off!
…
What?
…
Is it too late?
… No
No it is not
So what are you going to do?
Or, more importantly, is it worth saving?
In bed with you,
The swallowtails, I count their dots.
In bed with you,
Inside this box, the splinter rue.
This garden floats with spectral spots.
You seem cold now; I had the hots,
In bed with you.
Above the fray,
Where grass is green, and swans be loud.
Above the fray,
Clouds black and blue, the bullets spray.
The kissing lips of peril, proud,
With barely friends away from crowd.
Above the fray.
Seems a lifetime
Ago, our laughter gonged from bell.
Seems a lifetime
Lasts longer than a couple’s dime.
The ducks matter, but he wouldn’t tell.
Not in a row - all is not well.
Seems a lifetime…
~ The voice of loneliness - is barely audible ~ Quote by poet
Terribly curved
loneliness embraced her
The clouds hovered darkly over the valley
Grief, pain and tear drops got mixed
and circulate through each vein
in her trembling body
as lightning from angry clouds
She had never felt more alone
as pushed down into a bottomless pit
Thoughts was constantly changing
her grief in the loneliness could not fade
Finally in the newborn rhythm of spring
and the color splendor of silence
two people meet
Sweet music arose
one romantic ballad
The sunlight enveloped the earth they walked on
as under foreign skies
Her messenger
and most marvelous deed,
had angel wings
Wisdom unites the lost and the sad
Together they felt the harmony of life
in contingent release
13.03.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- 'L' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1st place in the contest
Do you recall your very first prom?
Was it a disaster or was it fun?
From a girl's point of view, I could
barely wait, to see my date!
And run under a starry sky to meet him
at our white front gate.
The time got closer, oh where could
he be?
I was getting anxious and in living teenage
agony.
Finally, the phone call came, ah fate!
Can be so unkind, for my date was more
than late!
On a surgery table he did sleep!
His appendix, being removed, I just had
to weep.
We both looked forward to the dance.
Alas, there went my dream~ I had no chance!
But, God saw my young heart was breaking,
To the dance, I went, had no idea his
older brother, was en route to pick me
up for the prom, I was shaking,
He was older than Donnie but a great
date in every way.
A knight in shining armor, he was, indeed
on that fifteenth of May!
June 17, 2020
7pm PST
Poem # 1,25O