Long Dole out Poems
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How I look forward to October the thirty-first each year!
Though the autumn be chilly and the weather a bit drear,
I have the pleasure of meeting strange little imps by the score,
As they visit, lisping "twick or tweat" at my front door!
The door bell rings constantly it seems as I leap to me feet,
Wondering about the wierd characters that I shall meet!
Will it be a devil or an angel or a frightful ghost?
Whoever it might be, I must be a generous host!
Hordes of fairies, cowboys and Indians grace my stoop,
Along with sheriffs, desperados and soldiers by the troop!
Ferocious pirates, scary skeletons and dreadful witches,
Leer and grin at me, nearly scaring me out of my britches!
Standing regally is a king and queen, each wearing a crown,
Along with their court jester, a gaudily bedecked clown!
There's a sweet little princess decked out in ribbons and lace,
Smiling demurely with cute dimples on her pretty face!
A little secret with which those little monsters I'll never share,
But I'll clue you in on my own little Halloween trick if I dare -
I dole out bubblegum, candy corn and stuff I don't care for much,
But keep the Snickers bars, Babe Ruths, Hershey Kisses and such!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I walk in the door,
my dog is there to greet me,
wagging his tail furiously
whilst sniffing around my shopping bags
He has that suspicious, perplexed
look on his face ,
one I’ve seen so many times before
I know what he’s thinking:
how the hell do I regularly come home
with a fully cooked chicken in a bag,
Yet he cannot find so much as a stale roadkill
when I bring him for a walk?
I look back at him, incredulous too…
do you really think chickens
just immolate themselves,
then jump cooked
nice and juicy into a bag
for me to pick up along the street?
He’s still anxious and perplexed
as I dole out his share
Imperceptibly, our curiosity
and suspicion of each other evaporate,
as we polish off this beautiful creature
Soon I’m licking my fingers,
and the real miracle happens
when I say,
“Hey Siri! Put the TV on channel 8,”
and on comes the sports news
The dog too is thoroughly engrossed,
licking his — erm — himself.
# precious little words always say more ~ just never in the way we think #
In skies of gray I dwell
inside of clouds,
keeping company with mugginess
and sweltering heat.
People who labor underneath me
perspire profusely; some curse.
Others pray for me
to cut their labor short.
Yes, they pray for rain.
I hear their cries,
for I’ve been mustering steam
during days and days of dreadful drought.
Pitter patter pitter patter
Their plaintive pleas I answer teasingly.
Starting slow. I dole out droplets
drop by drop by tiny drop
The droplets increase . . . plop plop plop.
Wind joins in - wailing.
Trees tremble as I splatter them
with wonderful wetness for the prayerful.
Swoosh! Ker-plunk!
I’m drumming and drumming,
pouring myself down
on thirsting flowers with heads bowed
to reverently receive me.
Umbrellas appear all over the streets.
Gleefully, I pound them, hammering away.
I pounce on the heads of uncovered people.
Soaking grass and soil,
filling rain gutters, and
sliding joyously off many hard surfaces,
I saturate every place that I’m able to outside.
I am rain, and unceasingly
this summer day,
I reign
supreme.
Dorthea is a strange one, a weird thinker
She never starts her J’s in the middle of the line
I cannot follow her thought processes.
She is getting a D; something isn’t right here.
She is not a “normal” thinker.
She’ll probably be a drop out anyway.
I might as well get her started.
Bruce is bossy, overbearing, but a boy.
This will serve him well in the business world.
B for Bruce who brings me candies from the homemade candy shop.
I love Bruce; I cannot give him an A because he never does his work.
It’s a C for Carlotta; she is bossy, and girls should not be.
So I truly must take her down a peg or two.
I know she gets lots of A’s but she is arrogant and overbearing.
Girls should learn to keep their mouths shut. She has corrected me twice.
The A students are the compliant ones.
They stay in their seat. They do not make noise.
They do not argue, demand or ask anything of me.
They cannot make eye contact with me.
They are cowed an intimidated.
I like them the best. They never make trouble. A’s for those ten!
A’s because they have made my life as a third grade teacher easy this year.
Mother would patschke
early that day in the kitchen,
and recruit any guest, who
blindly ambled thru front door
suddenly trapped unwittingly
squarely (triangulated) into kitchen
forcibly impressed to help
set up buffet tables
and/or given carte blanche to prepare
some mysterious dish,
(a hodgepodge of ingredients),
that suffered no shortages of compliments
unfortunately could never be duplicated.
Guests harkened far and wide
word of mouth boastful rantings and ravings
superseded culinary Michelin Guides
to dole out seven stars,
which wordsworth meant "exceptional cuisine
promised hungry visitor
a special satisfactory journey."
"Time to eat" (usually bellowed courtesy father)
generated an orderly stampede to jostle in line
and commence maximizing capacity
testing sturdiness disposable plates could hold
scouting, shoe horning, staking...
place to become comfortably numb with satiation.
Amidst various and sundry masticating jaws
(with each respective mouthful
of food glorious food -
cue said Oliver Twist song title)
followed by draught of spirits
ejaculations of delight issued,
and punctuated the sound of silence
when not additionally interrupted
courtesy sibilant crackling
popping, and snapping
wood burning stove,
which aforementioned heat source
lulled well fed tummies
whereby heavy eyelids drooped
while heads sank into chest.
No matter hunger pangs quieted
evidenced by casserole, glass, pyrex...
scraped clean rumors heralding dessert
quickly awoke wine weary souls
analogous to sluggish animals
awakening out their hibernation,
when self anointed maître d'
showcased good n plenti desserts
(pies, ice cream, cookies and cakes galore)
she made house special
comprising secret ingredients.
Upon being stuffed to the hilt
(dear kith and kin mother
all counted as family
think taxidermist specimen
readied for mounting)
all pledged a unanimous
New year's resolution
vouchsafed to start on diet
come January first.
Antiestablishmentarian inherent malevolent violence
wracks human species, a most brutish and nasty beast.
An embittered nihilistic teenager
grown haggard and old,
hence not surprisingly yours truly
crafts pseudo dystopian reasonable rhyme.
An evangelized atheistic adherent,
I aver evolutionary theory
posits prelapsarian Eden
of astonishing plentitude
gone to hell in a handbasket.
Ever since human species stood erect
exhibiting prehensile appendages did allow
cupped fingers upon brow,
whereat vista unveiled to succor chow.
Dawn of consciousness begat
superstitious vagaries daunting
present day Democrat
and/or Republican to issue fiat
denouncing extremist militant uprising
raging across Capitol Hill habitat.
2021 presidential inauguration
today January twentieth
(broadcast right now)
augurs horrific repeat January sixth,
when bedlam and mayhem
rocked Washington District of Columbia,
where hoodlums ran amuck lionizing violence.
Lawlessness bled constitution white
marauding bands of hooligans
bombarded, desecrated, fueled,
harmed, jackknifed, leveled, nailed,
pummeled, rioted, terrorized, vandalized...
with glee and spite
yielded windfall regarding
headline grabbing newsnight
motley film crews recorded
gangsters scaling storied height
(cue spiderman/woman)
think rescuers quick
as greased lightning they did alight.
If only real and/or
fictional life action heroes/heroines
came to the rescue
to avenge forces of evil,
where virtue dispensed,
and trumpeted courtesy better angels.
Meanwhile indefatigable defenders
of human rights
dole out just desserts
upon the heads
of self styled lawless brigands
militaristic thugs hell bent
to wreak havoc
upon cradle of liberty
including complex edifices
linkedin and embody
blood, sweat and tears
of freedom fighters
arrayed against merciless
demonic forces upending
foundation upholding enshrined
nearly divinely inspired principles
quantum leaps since
early man/woman trod
across terrestrial firmament.
I experienced exhilaration
upon witnessing confirmation
genuflection, liberation, restitution
espoused by Joseph Robinette Biden Jr.
forty sixth president of United States.
UNTIE WITH TITHE IF TIGHT
Descend from your boulder of woe
into the vineyard where great men sow;
here is my escape wonder park,
inscribed: Givers Never Lack;
betwixt the valley of indecision & greed
whether to eat or sow the seed.
Seek reference from scripture & read
Malachi three verse ten, which is the in-thing.
You only require "a tenth of everything":
"Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse,
that there may be meat in My house.
Test Me in this, and see if I will not, from heaven,
throw open the floodgates of heaven
and pour out so much blessing feast
that you'll not have room 'nough for it",
says the Lord Almighty,
then your gloom will shine brightly.
Why debate on this when money is vanity.
Loosen your bands with your liberality,
credulously accept Divine reality,
forever forgo fallacious fastidious fellows
and professional pay-hunting "prophets".
If your ancestor and Pathfinder, Abraham, tithed
to King of Salem, Melchizedek (symbolizing God) - being entreated,
(King of Salem means King of Peace),
why shouldn't his offspring also pay tithes?
Don't haggle, only seek what Christ requires:
a dime dole-out from your dearly dollar$
or a penny of your plenty precious pounds.
Will a man rob God & get away...for life?
"Yet ye robbed Me...in tithes & offerings" while baskin' in your strife.
The only remedy is to untie the resultant curse & pain
with timely tithe of your income or gain
in other to enjoy bountiful harvest of rain.
VickWizzy.
Reference: Malachi 3 verse 8 & 10, KJV Bible.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}.
Copyright © May 18th, 2020.
He has made his own reed gourd pipe
To play on and allure his captive -
The stray serpent, in his basket inactive ,
And rendered a fangless, servile type .
Being a lazy sot, gets his drink
Displaying the hooded creature apt ;
And blows odd tunes with no tact ,
Nor ever allows the coil to jink .
Motley onlookers dole out a coin ;
They know not why : fear or taboo,
Or even feeling heavy with ado
And he leaves , having drunkards to join ;
Loyal or helpless the selfless reptile
Ever returns to it's bamboo cell,
Despite the strain or a nearby dell ;
Thralldom corrodes the entity all the while.
Two flowers, dear - one white, one mauve,
and one is in, one out of, love:
two aspects of a morphing maid
who my love welcomed, then betrayed.
The hyacinth’s a lovely thing,
and I may well its praises sing!
Its meaning changes with its hue.
It puts me, dear, in mind of you.
This white one is, I must confess,
the very soul of loveliness.
And who could think such simple charm
could ever dole out so much harm!
To never meet the darker one
is what I’d planned, but I was wrong.
Too innocent, I never guessed
both mauve and white lived in one breast!
So, I will send you, dear, these flowers
which, like your love, will die in hours.
But while they live, they’re yours to keep:
and as you sow, so may you reap.
What makes a child feel closer to one parent rather than to the other?
Although love bound me to the heart of my mother,
it was to my Father's side that I chose to cling.
He was always the first up in the morning, even before the sun.
He knew as a farmer, his work in the fields was never done.
I remember my first day of school. He was the bus driver.
Timid little me, I looked out the window and there he was,
peering back at me. I ran from the room and into his arms.
After a hug he looked me in the eye and said. "Don't cry."
I thought I was home free,
but my Dad took me by the hand and walked me back to my desk.
My Dad, he always knew how to handle me.
I wanted no part of housework.
To the fields I followed him after school.
It was our time to talk about our dreams, problems, whatever was on our minds.
He never stopped, not even after open heart surgery...twice.
It slowed him down, but never made him quit.
I watched the strength in him fade away,
day after day he lost the battle of ill health.
His kidneys were shutting down and he finally lost his will to live.
The last time he opened his eyes I kissed him goodbye and he could only smile.
That night he went into a coma and I prayed to God that He let him die.
I've never felt guilty about those prayers.
I'd already lost my Father to sleep.
I have no bad memories of my Dad.
He was never the one to dole out a spanking.
He was my buddy; my hero in every sense of the over used word.
We hunted together~ he taught me to drive a tractor ~ I could go on.
He loved me as much as I still love him.
I was blessed to have such a wonderful father, and grandfather to my children.
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December 31st, 2015 Tell About your Dad Contest: Sponsor: Judy Konos