Long Dredges Poems
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I hope whoever is reading these words,
May they read into your life in some way
Let us go and walk down by the river's edge
Clear our minds of the negative dredges.
First, reach deep, deeper down inside,
Analyze you it's negative vibes
So, turn this negative that is attached to you
Make them positive vibes, so see it through.
Believe in yourself and life today,
Be a kind person, but never walk away
Be this change needed in life
Go forth, rise, and place your mark.
Your mindset sets the stage, so start.
Stop, deep breath, exhale—no stress,
Let us go and walk down by the river's edge
Clear our minds and settle our dredge.
No pressure, closed eyes,
Deep breaths, 'Look Inside.'
Matthew Scott The Marionette...
(Concocting cock and bull poetic pap
promises to approximate bovine rap
worse case scenario..., you will snap
so friend me at funny farm in Trappe
Pennsylvania, or frankly yukon zap
this poppycock poetic
emetic entailing...vowel)
movements deftly managed skilled puppeteer
unseen hands adroitly maneuver paraphernalia
bajillion miles away deep into thee atmosphere,
where Soundgarden's black hole sun serves as
infinite energy-feeds performing artist career
inherent behind the scenes trickster leveraging
mine every move master of ceremonies appear
ring poking his oblate spheroid noggin thru walled
sky inquiring, asper state of being paternal care
oft times addressing him as father, cuz proficient
craftsmanship forged me from nought meticulously
rendering yours truly complex functions, an engineer
ring feat cosmic artisan whipped out applying greased
lightning rods (unbreakable accouterments) endowing,
and endorsing creation with uber tender loving care
divine intervention nary clue hinted, thus me unaware
leverage, sans remote control bound tethered bond
most every day of "FAKE" existence never suspected
every aspect of my being linkedin at mercy of pioneer,
who more or less cornered, fabricated, patented... the
market, sans configuring sophisticated kin o'man near
lee indistinguishable from offal housed in Augean stables
essentially explaining incessant mooing "holy cow" & rear
ring like a bucking bronco, though mastermind did milk
golden opportunity calf full not to exploit this cash cow
loose sing hybridized mutant amidst green acres, where
past chore age of cornucopia frequently dredges muck
cob bray, and remembrance of things past, I Angus here
hoof hit might be convenient Taurus to part ways lest
ye accuse me being lame provocateur, spewing this slop
(from well chewed cud) out the figurative derriere!
Giving advice is a great way to start;
they may not listen from the very beginning,
but ponder they will until their heart
makes changes and starts loving and living.
Helping partners grow in all their ability and amplitude;
it's a duty and an obligation on your part...
keep on persuading them and take them to that altitude,
and they will learn and thank you for that!
Some brag about lending their hand with a hint so broad,
to demonstrate how much that individual has accomplished,
but why lay it in the open and let everyone alive know?
Friends never take credit for anything they've given or said!
Helping partners grow by the measure of your sympathy and tenderness,
can bring an overnight change; even a tender hug
is a hope glimmering...when all doors are shut and excessive droopiness
clearly shows in every action, word, look and feeling.
Reminding others how helpful and kind you have been...
dredges up old vanity and exposes all your credits with intent,
but eschewing humbleness as an estranged, vague secret:
is an eulogy spoken to deaf ears to get praise for your deed.
Helping partners grow is the truest example of sworn loyalty,
to make the bonds of friendship stronger and steep them in deep sincerity,
banishing bad thoughts and exciting the individual's interest in everything...
by letting that mind express new ideas and explore that extrasensory feeling.
When the sinking feeling rises
He hopes it floats on rainbow bubbles
Until the dredges clear once more
What ifs have not buts they simply are
A luxury or misdemeanour in thought
Crystal clear reflections upon blind sight
In sleepless nights with tokens of meaning
When consciousness meets disarray
Confabulations take their stride
Spooling endless loops that irritate when midnight
Meets dawn before dusk in empty synchronicity
With heartless spikes filled with fearful dread
A restless dagger rides the grinder
Leaves inroads for another day as
The plateau sweeps away foundations
Yet privilege adorns the many building sites
Of birthing life and mounting connotation
In the wilderness of dissipate surrender
Acceptance clears the buoyancy of drowning
When down is up and far way is near enough
And the jester tackles the charades of doubts
It is a circus in the mind field of masks and jingles
In which procrastination smiles upon the clown
And lonely laughter smirches pandemonium
When the fool turns jokester and uncovers madness
As serenity brings what not ifs into the fold of light
Moments of insomnia are but a tiny price to pay
10th December 2019
Today's mentality and attitude
is not as sound as it was yesterday,
and the chosen path didn't diverge
from the distant past so affected
by the miracles that happened, but
the skeptical was the arrant liar...
desecrating and devaluing divinity,
detaching from the undeniable Designer!
And whoever dredges up this regret,
and doesn't question truth:
has entered in a cosmic dimension
which disarms anyone willing to discern,
and cease the lament of not seeing enough miracles;
piety made the saints grow in compassion,
and their constant devotion was an expanse of faith...
never extinguished by indignant words!
Be like them, never fleeing the dying sword,
speak kindly to them, and make them see their vileness;
and whether it was willful or not ...be merciful and virtuous,
and change their visceral spirit with the noblest word...
have the wisdom of the Prophets who were inspired by God,
and brought a rebellious people back to their Lord!
A vagrant person won't find a tranquil place in days,
trenching on a stark wasteland...where no trees ever grow,
the arid air welcomes nothing but sunlight;
be illuminated by spirituality and remit any sorrow
to reprove silliness and resentment ...
and finally put aside the notion of not seeing enough miracles!
Summertime soothes and refreshes,
softens our rough edges,
lifts us from life’s dredges
and grants fresh feel meshes.
Spring announces time to go out
by popping newness all about.
Spring wakes all our senses
so we drop droopy defenses
and allow summer’s coming ways
to frolic cheer through our days.
Let us jump, run and swim,
then do it all over again.
Sunshine romps with family
enhance their love’s tapestry.
Sun playtime with friends
grows memories that mend.
Summertime adventures
seek anxieties surrender.
Peace and joy clenchers
zre spun by sun’s splendors.
Absorb summertime’s sun-fun sphere
to fortify hearts for another year.
Glancing down from breathless heights,
Amidst climey sighs,
The looming colossus awakens from slumber
And stretches across Thelwalls linear skies.
The hot engines hissing steam -
Recalled from fond memories long back -
Tumbling like huffing little rain clouds
Down from the lofty metal track;
Wherein brightly painted carriages:
The publicans daughter, the verger,
The magistrate, the chief executive -
Seated first class, all habitually sat.
Swift grandiose arches, a celebration
Trumpeting the artful masons cunning devise,
Boast loudly of the great towers
Parallelogram of terrific forces:
Crossing over in giant leaping strides.
Here below, like Hercules reclining,
The stoic gates of Latchfords black fortress locks
Lift to brace against the immense swell
Far and beyond the chimming remarks
Of Greenhalls absolute, mechanically proven,
Georgian bell;
When, ensconced within a purpose-built,
Purple brick tower:
Strikes the centuries old brewery clock
On the twelfth
Of every God given hour.
A rich bankers cantilever
Pushes doggedly against opposing, sheer,
Red Sandstone walls;
Again the mauve and azure rock pigeon claps...
And then...coo, coo, cooingly calls.
Dry buzzing heat blurs over
The hum of a high noons imcumbent midday;
The coup-de-gras scimitar wing stoops -
To fasten onto its slower-witted prey!
Steeped sides slipping amidst tumbling yellow
Gorse and sporadic flowers
Balk at the foreboding waters edge,
Where, over the denizens swirling bowers,
The resolute little rusting lugger,
Puffing and chugging,
relentlessly dredges and scours;
Churning the murky Eastham silts
That drab Manchester draw:
Into the vast hollowing quays
On beachless, concrete Salfords industrialized,
High-rise dockland shore.
Through the deepest part of the black
Channel
A salt grimed hulk smoothly slips...
Attached by a twisted hemp to the tugboat
That hauls the great ships.
Stirred by the bow waves
Flowing and ebbing like currents in time:
From the trough to the peak
The jettison and flotsam climbs -
Before succumbing to powerful undercurrents
Of irresistible designs!
We all know that hunger exist we needn't even go out the door
For it is right there in our very midst as that never ending war
So we place it on the back edges the farthest part of our mind
Those emotions that it dredges are far more than I care to find
But this story was so different and I couldn't help but turn and look
And the message that it had sent as my whole entire body shook
For the line was long that day as many would not even get to eat
The little seven year old inching his way as upon that sun would beat
But now he was finally first he was at the head of that long line
Not thinking of his own thirst he pulled a three year old from behind
Telling the missionaries to take her ahead as they took her little hand
He allowed her to eat instead something many of us don't even understand
And when they came back to that spot calling again to this little angel
His own needs he again forgot, "take this child too for he does not feel well"
Such a sacrifice that this child had made in such a drought barren land
Oh how his example has weighed standing alone barefoot in the hot sand
Miraculously this morning
The clouds parted in the heavenly skies;
Ascending down on wings of a dove,
Our savoir did gloriously arrive.
He gathered his children,
Pure of heart,
Eager to follow him home;
I, among others,
When he did depart,
Were left on this Earth to roam.
Many were startled;
Cried in their sorrow,
Wondering about their fate.
While I stood tall
Understanding it all,
Not worried if it were too late.
What he left behind
Were some tormented souls,
Not earning their wings quite yet
And a solid few
That he knew
Could help others without regret.
My job I sensed
Wasn’t recompense
Nor due to any bad faults;
I was left behind
To help save mankind
And stay true to all that he taught.
So, thank you Lord
For trusting in me
And blessing me with the strength
To preach your word,
Making sure that it’s heard,
Going to every length.
And when in time,
Once again,
Our savior does descend,
I’ll stay behind,
With the dredges of mankind
Trying to save them to the end.