Long Expectantly Poems
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an eerie old house
abode for disgruntled ghosts -
waits expectantly
halloween party
by invitation only -
come at your own risk
costumed guests arrive
unaware of ghostly hosts -
ignorance is bliss
at the midnight hour
the haunted house comes alive -
lurking ghosts appear
human screams abound
ghoulish spirits shriek with glee -
party in full swing
silence greets the dawn -
shrieking spirits now at rest
but where are the guests?
Kim Merryman 10/14/11
To sunshine and its blushing dawn
and brilliant sunsets we are drawn
which over plains and mountains glow.
How sweet God’s blessings that we know.
We wait expectantly to see
pink cherry blossoms on a tree
and flowers that in springtime grow.
How sweet God’s blessings that we know.
The warbling bird; the butterfly;
the promise painted in blue sky -
dear Lord’s awe-inspiring rainbow.
How sweet God’s blessings that we know.
The scintillating stars of night;
a moon in June when big and bright;
refreshment that soft breezes blow.
How sweet God’s blessings that we know.
Cool streams and rivers running clear;
fall’s bounties before winter’s near;
the tranquil days of virgin snow.
How sweet God’s blessings that we know.
The Chair
Calls out my name.
It is ever at the side of the bed.
Waiting there for me to climb in.
Expectantly. Faithfully?
God said get up and carry your load.
He said to walk on.
He never said it was okay to give up.
He has not called you home.
I am sure of that, as I am still here.
I have not given up, but I am old.
I am tired and my time is soon.
What difference could I make?
What changes could be wrought by my words,
my deeds, my testimony?
What truths could be gained?
In the mirror sad eyes of all things gone wrong,
stare back into mine, every day.
(because I let them… without a fight)
The debate to remain as part of the furniture…continues.
My voice, sure that everything has already been tried.
You have seen things. You have history still to speak of…
You have a future, you are setting aside, while you are setting.
It needs to be passed on to the young, and told again to the old,
to remember forever, “God is King!”
Your answer, your response, I am crippled.
God laughs. God smiles. Sometimes, He gets mad.
Parting seas, killing giants, winning battles, and feeding the multitudes,
healing, saving and bringing eternal life…
The words from my mouth, “The chair, it is not fair. It has no heart, no soul and only takes. Do not let it win.”
The angels sing when glory is lifted to the high mountaintops of heaven.
The Lord sits upon his throne, and prepares.
It is not to say that you are doing less.
It is not judgment of any kind.
Grace is yours, as He sees you clearly.
He loves you dearly.
Yet, still I am cheering at you. I am telling you…
You are free. You are free indeed.
Walk, don’t sit.
Then don’t walk, run.
Then don’t run, dance, and then prance.
Do it all at once, at the same time.
A miracle is waiting for you.
Maybe you will be still stuck in that chair.
That has nothing to do with what I am talking about.
Read it again and… then.
The day of my fifteenth anniversary is here
The dawn in all its glory is near
The promise for a second honeymoon
My excited heart has started to croon
Expectantly I turn towards him
And see him all dressed in cream
He gives me a kiss
And says goodbye miss
Tears spring to my eyes
The hope within dies
I knew he had forgotten
Fate is really rotten
I passed so many tests
Our marriage was the best
The first flush of love has died
Now life seems to be tied
Alone I drink a toast to the two of us
It is not my nature to fuss
But tender heart is torn to shreds
I let the wine go to my head
Here he comes! They all say, anticipating fantastical antics.
He does not disappoint. Pushes his head into the fish tank.
Shakes broken cracker crumbs onto an unsuspecting partygoer,
Leads the room into spontaneous dancing. Lifts his shirt to show his flab.
The others come out from the kitchen, recognizing that he is here.
He is doing his best to dazzle them, to make them smile, to keep them laughing.
They are grateful he has finally arrived. The party was a dud up until now.
Do you think someone should take him home? Someone offers six hours later.
There are no volunteers. He has no friends, only spectators.
He is the ultimate party animal, yet, none have been to his house.
He spent his life becoming a comic entertainer for solemn stuffed animals.
He falls asleep on the couch, and they tiptoe around him.
The next party it all begins again. They lie in wait, wishing he would hurry.
It is dull until he arrives. They keep looking at the door expectantly.
No one fills a room with laughter as fast as he does.
Alas, he is not coming. He committed suicide by hanging an hour before.
And then, life bid me to love it
Yes, to love it
And to enjoy it
If not to make of it, my aim
My mission
My cause
The reason I do be!
And then, life pulled my cheeks wide
And bid me to shake off the sullen look
That I always wear
Have you not read
Whispered it to my heart
Have you not read in those books
That nothing about me is to be fretted for?
And then, life pulled my hands towards it
And said,
With a pleading look
Put these into good use
Remember that others of your kind
Are not so awakened
Remember that you have means
To help me!
And then, life pushed me, into nothingness
I fell, eyes closed
Heart booming
And with my whole self engaged in a frenzied fright
But instead of crashing to the floor
I landed gently
And on my feet!
I opened my eyes
And saw, looking at me expectantly
People, drowned in life's misery
People, having no time to dwell on existentialism
People, having to battle to live!
And then, life sent me a gust of wind
A gust which pushed me to these people
And I handed out my arms
And put them into helping them!
And then, I just know
The story shall continue
Someday, I will write of what happened
Someday, when I shall recount of all that I did on Earth
To the powers that wanted me to be!
I was born on July 20, 1958.
Being one of seven children and having a mid-summer birthday, even as a young boy, it was
not uncommon for my birthdays to come and go without much fanfare.
In the winter of my Fifth Grade year at school, we had an assignment to write a short-story.
I was already in love with writing way back then. My short story was on a topic that was
very much in the news at that time and a very interesting and exciting theme for a young
boy. I wrote a short story about me being the youngest astronaut in the space program and
being selected to be the first astronaut to walk on the moon. I was aware at the time, that
the US and USSR were in a Cold War race to be the first country to achieve that lofty goal
and I knew it was bound to happen soon. To make my story even more special, I wrote that
this wonderful event would take place over the coming summer, on my birthday!
Well, lo and behold, as the winter turned to spring and spring turned into summer the Apollo
11 space mission launched from Cape Canaveral carrying three astronauts, two of whom
were targeted to walk on the moon.
As my 11th birthday approached, without any notice from anyone else, I watched in awe as
the Apollo 11 made its way to the moon. On July 20th, 1969, the lunar landing module,
Eagle, set down on the moon! I remember expectantly waiting for the astronauts to be given
permission to exit the Eagle and step foot on the moon’s surface as the hours of my birthday
ticked down.
It was about 10:00 pm eastern time when my parents finally sent us all to bed on the news
that Mission Control made the decision to wait until the next day to send Neil Armstrong out
of the lunar module. With tears in my eyes, I went to bed thinking that I missed my chance
to share my birthday with history and to have had my short story prognostication come true.
At a few minutes before 11:00 my parents woke all of us up to come watch as Neil
Armstrong could wait no longer and talked Mission Control into letting him walk on the moon
without further delay.
So, at about 11:00 pm, on my 11th birthday, the men from Apollo 11 walked on the moon for
the first time in history. One small step for man and one giant link to history for one small
boy in Charleston, West Virginia.
And, that is when 11 became my favorite number.
As a lotus raises its head to receive the sun rays
I wait expectantly for my Lord's whisper in my ears.
In the forms of Satan or tempter, evil has its ways.
Amidst my fears, it enters my spheres and wishes me cheers.
Whispers between blossoms and flies are secret and sacred.
Agape of give and take are amalgamated in them.
What else can the ways of the devil be except hatred?
They deceive as the fading colours of petals and stem.
I'll give you the world and wonders, he says, as though they're his.
Can I take these with me when I pass through the cave of my grave?
Each moment of my existence has been a baffling quiz
His whispers would enslave me while the divine grace would save.
A tree might listen to the voices of both storm and breeze.
Though they bear the sounds of storms, does any tree feel at ease?
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
Inside the doors where the bowls brim in a pink glow
Beside the river where your warmth melts in my shiver
There I would like to release my red birds in blue quiver
Birds playing perching pecking and penning lyrics
Birds leaning lavishly on the lovely luscious lychees
Jingly the waves arrive at the bank looking in purple envy
At the drunk birds satiating their lust in the chocolate glee
Open your dense door for I have to write a poem right now
Come on the dance floor or the river shore as you choose
Whisper in my waiting ears what poems you wish and how
The air is tipsy the moments gypsies please do not refuse
Come dear, time passes, my words are in a marvelous flow
In the starlight where my pomegranates expectantly glow
________________________________________________________
April 8, 2016
For A First Line Prompt - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Endlessly expectantly awaiting
a knock upon one's front door
That quite patently you know deep
inside your heart and soul is destined
never ever to come
No matter how hard or many times
you wish upon it will
Is a lifetime in part best spent
Stuck waiting all alone inside starring
out a window and dusty curtains
At strangers and life passing bye
And if you listen hard enough the
faintest of knocking noises heard
Before the door is closed behind them
shut
Once those who are warmly welcomed
are safely ushered in
Offered up a cup of tea or whatsoever
beverage they desire
And so begin to recite converse
declaration , exclamation
In order to propagate and facilitate the
purpose of a conjugal visit
Whilst he or she across the road makes
use of the nearby dusty curtains
To wipe and dry the tears away from
their eyes
More in just than in hope and endless
expectation
A knock upon one's front door finally arrives
And they don't look their best