Long Bone of contention Poems
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TENDER LOVE AND CARE
Take a look around,
what do you see?
I see homeless,
hungry, it could be you or me.
Strange times,
in the places that we live,
So many out of work,
we have nothing to give.
I see scared people,
funny look to their eyes,
Lost souls,
desperation in their cries.
Most have families,
they sleep in their car,
Every night,
the kids wish upon a star.
I hear people say,
it’s their own fault, their lowlifes,
These are families,
moms, dads, kids and wives.
The cost of living,
is off the Rector-scale,
It's like paving
the highway to hell.
The Government is of no help,
they put us here,
They say their transparent,
yet the facts are unclear.
So many struggling,
with alcohol and drug addiction,
So many of us,
just do not pay attention.
Ignoring it,
does not mean it’s not there,
Even the blind,
can see its everywhere.
Desperate people,
can do desperate things,
You know what they say,
it isn’t over till the fat lady sings.
The law,
and all the racial tension,
Negative energy,
it’s the bone of contention.
It won't work itself out,
in need of repair,
All it takes is a little,
tender, love and care…
Turbo1904
Jack's a nickname, my real name's Charles
Guess I've got some 'splaining to do
My sisters and Mom wanted “Jack Norman”
Dad won, that's why you're confused
My sisters and Mom said they wouldn't give in
And would call me Jack anyway
For my entire life been called by a nickname
Confusing? You betcha to this day
A bone of contention all through my life
Whenever I'd sign legal documents
Am looked at like I'm a bit on the shady side
So I'd play up this silly pretence
Acte suspicious, stutter and stammer
Misspell my name C-a-r-l-e-s
Get a kick out the sideways glances I get
As they considered a possible arrest
Finally fill them in on this problem I've had
Since the very first day of my birth
Chuckled as they realized I was who I was
And apologized for what it was worth
Jack's a nickname, my real name's Charles
Now you know the rest of the story
© Jack Ellison 2013
I have become a moaner,
Huffing, puffing, growling, groaner
I find it hard to bend and stretch
My dog is too old to 'Go fetch'
'You fetch yourself.' my old pooch said.
As he snuggled up in his doggy bed.
I totter outside to get the paper,
That's lying on the lawn
It's poured with rain, the newspaper is wet,
Dirty, tattered and torn,
It was beyond redemption
Too far gone to read
Another bone of contention
Just what I need.
I can hear the telephone ringing,
From inside the house
My ears are stinging
Where is my spouse?
I try my best to hurry,
To answer the phone
If someone doesn't answer it,
They will think we are not home.
It is no use calling my husband,
Because he is stone deaf.
Not only is he deaf, he is losing his mind,
If truth be told, we are two of a kind.
I must try not to grumble, mutter and complain,
I must get more positive if I want to stay in the game.
Life is what you make it. I understand why that is so,
To look on the bright side is the best way to go.
Impressions of a teenager
I was born today twenty years ago
A healthy child with eyes of a doe
I grew up in a free world
Saw the national flag unfurled
Sang national anthem with devotion
A hand on my heart and no motion
It stirred my pride on secular belief
Sacrifices of martyrs elicited grief
I studied in cosmopolitan schools
Learnt honesty and obeying the rules
Ne’er differentiated between rich and poor
Or had any delusion to a life of grandeur
The TV news showed a bitter killing
The video clips were very chilling
A result of animosity between two men
One of whom lost in a gambling den
Days later two groups fought a bitter battle
The bone of contention was lifting of cattle
One group accused the other of eating beef
They said it was against their religious belief
Another day a young couple was burnt alive
The relatives and parents decided to connive
The girl loved, married the boy of lower caste
Retribution by the elders was prompt and fast
It’s awfully risky for girls to travel alone
Even if she has her mobile phone
She can be waylaid by men at a lonely place
Forced to satisfy their lust and face disgrace
“What has independence given us?” I ask
A discordant society oblivious of its task!
The sacrifices of martyrs appear to be in vain
All principles and ethics are down the drain
Greed of wealth and power is the motto
Governance is like a game of lotto
Honesty has ceased to be a virtue
Questioning the corrupt is breaking the curfew
End
Too many changes, differences and loss
Some changes are necessary,
Others don't count the cost
Of change
Change of direction
I am sure I don't know,
This way or that way
Which way should I go
The indecision is driving me mad,
Because some of the changes
They are reckless and bad,
Change for the better
I'm all for that
Should I clap,
Or pat the person
On the back.
Who makes changes for the better,
Why mend something?
That does not need mending
Especially when serious changes
Are always pending.
And need urgent attention,
Climate change, for one
It is a bone of contention.
The force of nature is strong,
Where are we going wrong?
There are viruses in the air,
They are everywhere
Causing death and sorrow,
Heartless people who have power
Give no thought about tomorrow
Devastating winds, fires and floods,
Famine, unrest and wars
Bloodshed by many
Is this what we were born for?
Who shall we blame,
At the end of the day.
Point the finger and smugly say
Things have got to change,
As we look the other way!
I ran across an old photograph of my brothers and me when…I think…I was only three…immediately I asked my self…”Is that three-year-old in the photo really me?”
Certainly it was me on the day that photo was taken…but to say that IS me…well…I think I’d be mistaken.
Even though I’m not sure when that photo was shot…not sure exactly when…I think Alice in Wonderland would agree…I’ve changed a million times since then.
Yes, that was me in the photo…with ears only a parent could adore…but that was me at 3…I imagine I changed a lot by the time I had turned 4.
And 5…and 6…and through my teens and all my other years combined…until I reached the who I am today…my who…at 69.
That is the allure of old photographs…that make them both wonderful and bizarre…they capture the who we were for a moment in time…but not the who we are.
One who…who was essential…but a who we’ve emerged from…important because it helped create the who we have become.
I noticed in that old photo I was smiling…grinning ear to ear…and I’m proud that smile has been handed down from who to who and year to year.
I guess if I have one small bone of contention…it would be that my whos had been a little taller…or at least…knowing how’d they would one day grow…that my ears would have started out…a little smaller.
But let me say this to all my future whos…
as each who adjusts and rearranges….
I’m okay with my ears getting larger…
as long as that smile never changes.