Long Deal out Poems
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Elden Hewett smiled at the sight
of Gretta Coburn moving his way,
she had worked here at his saloon,
ever since that dark, tragic day.
He pinched her as she walked by,
said,”Now I think it’s time you see,
you got no husband left to help you,
you’re gonna need to make real money.
“Let me make you one of my girls,
you’ll have your own room upstairs,
you will make more coin than waitressing,
and you’ll have money for all your cares.”
Gretta pulled herself away and said:
“I have told you this all before,
I got no interest in being your ‘girl,’
I’m not working as some damnable whore!”
Elden shot up quickly to his feet,
said,”I’m right tired of this here game.
If you want to keep on working here,
you’re going to do what I say!”
Just then the front doors broke open,
and a male figure paced on in.
The whole room gasped as Red entered
with two guns and a chilling grin.
Gretta stammered,’R-Red, h-how?
How can what I see be true?”
Elden’s blood ran quickly cold,
“Y-you’re dead…I-I saw to you!”
Red just grinned, and said,”Am I?”
Then strode over to them rather bold.
Elden said,”Yes! I know that you’re dead,
I saw your god damned funeral!”
Elden’s grin faded, hand moved to his gun,
saying,”I know your people bushwacked me.
You’ve been eyeing my wife for a long time,
I should just put a bullet in thee…
“But I’ve never been a violent man,
murdering you is a step to far.
So you and I will both settle this,
sit on down, and deal out the cards.
“We’ll play one hand, the winner takes all,
if I lose I’ll go far from this place.
But if I win you’ll pay a great price
for trying to bring my wife to disgrace...”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
If I were a tree, I would be an oak. A laughing oak with dazzling shiny hair.
My leaves would twinkle and spin and prance happily in the summer.
I would watch over the squirrels with their chattering ways, and smile.
Loving the way they flip upside down and backwards to steal bird seed.
Robins, cardinals, wrens and meadow larks would alight on me.
Claws so gentle, I would barely feel them, but I would know they were there.
I'd not have to be the largest, but it would be nice to be one of the tallest.
Lovely to be one of the top three in a forest of oaks, surrounding a meadow.
In autumn I would let my leaves turn the happiest reds, oranges and yellows.
Always competitive, I would want them to turn before the other trees’ leaves.
I'd hold on to them the longest though, so leaf watchers could gaze in awe.
Cars would travel far into the country to see my beauty, and take photos.
In the winter I would be a tall foreboding soldier. Black brown against nature.
The ants, beetles, gnats and spiders would be hidden deep into my knothole.
I would shelter them from the elements and stand my ground, a guardian.
I would not make a big deal out of it, but I would be like a savior.
Along comes spring, my happiest time. I would sing a melody so sweet,
It would shame the birds. They would stop tweeting, to listen in awe.
It would outshine rainbows and buttercups. I would do this silently, on the sly.
When people wake for the day, I would be silent. Meeting their small expectations.
It I were a Tree
Written 2-3-2021
Contest Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
... the child within me is the one who stands back up. My inner child is the bravest part of me. Because she is driven with a desperate hope & desire. She possesses true innocence, which drives a native faith that things will someday get better. The reason I'm alive, is because I don't have the heartt to break her spirit. Because, I cant bring myself to destroy the hope & purity she holds.
How dare I even consider killing off her drive, her purpose, & her beautiful tenacity. She possesses a light that most people could never exude themselves. She is a fire that burns intensely, while also offering her light & warmth to other's who need it. She's a warrior without even realizing it. She's hyper focused on her dreams of true happiness. And its inspiring others.
However, her hope is only alive because of her innocent ignorance. Because she hasn't seen what happen's next. That she to face what damage see next! She hasn't seen what darkness she has yet to face. What damage she will both receive, and deal out, under the pressure. She doesn't know that the voices get louder, or that the monsters get stronger. She doesn't know that the That people shell put her faith in will abandon her. That she'll be left to bleed by herself. She doesn't know that all those who she's shared her fire with had no intentions of giving in return. That she will be used until she's no longer needed. That she'll be ignored when she begs for help. That she'll be fighting for her life until her soul gives.
But worst of all, she doesn't know that shell look in the mirror someday and realize; that the monster she feared the most, that she fought the hardest to kill, was herself.
And theres only way to Finally End The War.
Whenever I feel discouraged,
Or am just too blind to see,
What purpose there is for my life on earth,
This thought is what comforts me.
I think about a Man Whose Name
Means, oh, so much to me,
You see, He wore a crown of thorns,
That He might set me free.
He wore a crown of thorns for me,
And bore so patiently,
All that the soldiers of Rome did think,
Would destroy His dignity.
He wore a crown of thorns for me,
And put up with all the shame,
The soldiers could deal out to Him,
For our sins He took the blame.
He wore a crown of thorns for me,
And I could never pay,
Him back for all that He endured,
And suffered there that day.
So I must love my fellow man,
The way He wants me to,
And that is how I'll know the peace,
He gives to those who do.
(copyright 10/30/15)
So you’re in the big house
With the big car
The big driveway
And the big yard
With the big pool
The big fortress of high hedges
Between you and your foes
You had big plans
And big dreams
Big promises
And big schemes
A premise for every square-inch
Since the day you were born,
They raised you to “think big!”
You were indoctrinated
with big ideals
Big concepts and big half-truths
The dogma about a man in the sky
Pervading your consciousness
You’ve grown to love the big comforts
A glutton for luxury, a co-dependent
Creature of dangerous habits
A fiend for the sixty-hour work-week
And a junky for distraction
Once the big lifestyle got in your system,
There’s no excising it now
They might as well take a scalpel to your heart
And a scissors to your spirit
You fell hook, line and sinker
For the big lie, the big funny business
The next big thing – the Big Time, Bill!
What’s the big idea? Hey, bigger is better
Try to be the bigger person
All big diamonds and big deeds,
Your big stick of opulence
shining in the Little Big Room
We got bigger fish to fry, here
Don’t make too big a deal out of it
Gee, you look so much bigger in person.
- I take a step back to reflect. Fecal matter storms a reality check in to the mental hotel of chaos. In utter disorder; rationality eludes us. Cluelessly, we are insane—on a temporary leave of absence. Senselessly numb; simply, simple... Obsolete and discreet, keeping eyes down low. Hidden from the world; we stick out like sore thumbs. An overwhelming sense of paranoia takes wheel; who's driving? Slippery when wet; we slide. Uncontrollably... Unmistakeable, but make no mistake. Masks that we wear are transparent; fooling only some. High strung like the strings of an old banjo, our dirty laundry is airing out. The presence of stains shout out secrecy in whispers, silently broken. We enable auto pilot and go through the motions; subtly coded from paranoia. This ride becomes turbulent. Lightning strikes and in a flash, real gets real. Feelings of panic offset stabity. Balance forced to recollect. Frantically scrambling to find our lost librium. Playing cards that we repeatedly deal out ourselves, it's time to go manual. Reality delivers a stunning right hook; drawing first blood. Dazed and confused, fight or flight mode sets in. Voices of criticism echo in our heads. Self doubt secures confidence with an iron fist. Insanity begins it's never ending rant, as we argue amongst ourselves. Our worst nightmares become reality. At this moment it becomes impossible to deny. We are who they thought we were.
That heaven's rivers
flow saying Allah
Went out philomels of Islam
whistles saying Allah
Sways tugba trees
Recites Quran also tongues
Elysum yard's roses
smells saying Allah
Some eats some drinks
Angels deal out peace
Prophet Idris measures dress
Stitchs saying Allah
All posts are from noor
All leaves are from silver
While streching branches
Concludes saying Allah
Brighter than moon, faces
Sweater than suger, voices
Eden's houri maidens
Wanders saying Allah
One who is in love with Allah
Pours teardrops from his eyes
Becomes pure in and outsides
Sings saying Allah
Whatever you wish, wish from God
Walk in this way with a guide
Parrot is in love with tulip
Crows saying Allah
Opened skies' doors
Full of peace all of those
Eight heaven's shores
Uncovered saying Allah
Ridvan is opener of gate
Idris is measurer of cloth
Drinker of Kevser sherbet
Quenchs saying Allah
Dervish Jonah arrive to your pal
Do not leave today to tomorrow
Morning to God's council
Let me reach saying Allah
Written by Dervish Jonah (Yunus Emre)
Translation Onur Ünlü
A Little Phone Call Malcolm and Donald
by Bob Moore
Hello Donald
That Afro-American President, lived there just before you
agreed to take these Middle Eastern fellers from Naru
they are a bloody handful, getting worser every day
when you gonna send a boat, and take them all away
A deals a deal out here in Oz, even if its dumb
hope you will not renege, we’re still your bestest chum
here in the Southern Hemisphere, and maybe in the world
we help to fight in all your wars, so don’t act like a girl
--
Hello Malcom
I heard about that stupid deal, you did before he left
a swap for some Columbians, you both must be bereft
not sure which of them is worse, but one thing that I know
there’ll be some heavy vetting, before you let them go
Out here we have our own problems, don’t know if you’ve heard
eight years of Pres, Obama, but now the people stirred
they want to make America, the way it used to be
no matter where you come from, settle in, and you’ll be free
So nobody can tell me, what is best for me to do
friendship, begging, threatening, its not all about you
I have a land of willing soles, and if they work with me
we will make America, great again, you’ll see.
Goodbye
Poetry on trial?
I’m going to indict poetry, for infecting my soul
Does it serve any purpose, or has it lost control
This may seem quiet strange, perhaps unorthodox
Peruse this if you will, whilst it’s head layeth on the block
No need for a foundation, build it in the clouds
But it does require structure, interwoven by shrouds
Mocks me with Humpty Dumpty, as my life falls to bits
Sends me down a path, of bifurcation and twists.
Yes poetry is stealthy, it attacks from every side
Attempting to outflank you, then pounces in surprise
Soon levity returns, it wants to chill you out
Where did this come from, shaketh your head in doubt.
Bow before it in deference, or leap into the sky
Cut to pieces on razor wire, see the birds that flyeth by
Pit Romeo and Lothario, in a competition of charms
Find a new born baby, dead in its mother’s arms.
Send shivers down ones spine, Hairs stand on your neck
Deal out a winning hand, then rearrange the deck
Be a photon of light, amongst trillions on our sun,
Reminisce ole times, when life beheld such fun.
Be scarred by it’s violence, Drawn into the mystique,
Blown away by the punchline, The havoc it can wreak
Drown in melancholy, or bathe in its delight
Overcome tragic heartbreak, awestruck by it’s might.
Empathize with the poor, in their cornucopia of dirt,
Curse the wealthy no better, in their hubris of self-worth,
Surrounded by loved ones, on your terminal breath,
Then Cryo-frozen in a machine, trying to forgo death.
So yes I’ve tried poetry, it was given a fair trial
Now to pass sentence, and do so, with some style
I condemn it to life, with no chance of parole
Simultaneously I grant pardon, for it’s me who lost control.
By
David Kavanagh