Long Foyer Poems
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After seven hours
Restlessly waiting
Ive shaved for this
Waiting impatiently
To hear the front gate
Come home soon
Ive began to hurt
being physically present
Alone as a idea
Floats by me
I could just go home
I suppose
A grand gesture
Maybe hide in the dark
Everyone enjoys Surprises
Some glair and grace
Could be in order
I would stand
Warm greetings
To you all
Id wear my
Flapper dress
Red and blue
My finest fascinater
Donned
My favorite piece
Royally wave
Dawn a Thomson
A found when
I was wandering around
Playfully of course
Get them laughing
Shot her
A jest on my lips
My Beautiful drees
Not fatally of course
Make him watch
As I whisper
Im not killing her
Watch her Bleeding out
All over the foyer
The foyers the stage
A theatrical night
I shoot him
Not fatally of course
Let them know
WhrreThey're going
To hell of course
No I am
Sometimes I forget
They are me
Death shows up
And asked
Are you having a good time
You know you can't kill them
Unless you kill you
Im trying to have
a nice night
You imagination lacks
Effectiveness effort
And grace
I mentioned grace earlier
Im wearing a dress
Get back to work
Get some sleep
I have grace
Pulling out my card.
Doesn’t seem too hard.
When I’m convinced of my wealth.
Despite new books on my shelf.
Despite sunglasses that are new.
I assumed by account was tried and true.
But when the balance is none.
I find myself feeling undone.
I want to go back.
To stop myself from getting snacks.
I want to undo.
Buying a shirt that is blue.
I hear honking behind me.
At least the receipt for my balance is free.
I leave with no money in hand.
I was going to go to the beach with sand.
But with no money for a picnic lunch.
I suddenly have a hunch.
That my friend will pay what is due.
But then the sky turns a strange hue.
Which helps me remember.
I owe her from December.
I guess I’ll go home.
With no where else to roam.
I know my mom’s advice was true.
That spending too much will make me blue.
I enter the foyer.
The smell of cooking makes me wander over.
My mom is making lunch.
She seems to have a hunch.
On the hammock in the yard, I sway.
I learned my lesson on this sunny day.
She hands me an iced tea.
I start to dream.
Of my paycheck tomorrow.
Which I can spend without sorrow!
I knew I was good at opening doors,
To blossom their thoughts and ignite.
Everyone had their own little glittering globe,
My job was to make them shine bright.
The interview went great in the London office,
When I talked the talk that I walk.
The panel embraced my every word,
A maths teacher that knew how to chalk.
The next job interview was over the phone,
The principal needed me to teach Japan.
“Japanese? Hell yeah”, then I’d change it to French,
A year of languages? Yep, I was the man.
And then the call to the next principal,
An Aussie, renovating his foyer.
Six years of a one year trial maths job,
To the kids I was the mathematic destroyer.
And now a call from the state’s executive,
Starting next term with our indigenous youth.
“Teach and inspire, excite and succeed”,
I’m to teach the mathematical truth.
I’m a teacher of teens, I teach every day,
To be reasonable, rational and logical.
So when they’re grown up and out and about,
They’ll wisely “out think” any obstacle.
The Joining was one of subdued elegance. Seileach insisted on the ceremony being held in the Keep. Jessica was beautiful, beyond beautiful, she was exquisite. Her long red hair infused with sky blue Blåveis and white bell shaped Liljekonvall mingling in a beautiful waterfall along the right side of her head. Rødsildre weaved through the intricate braids that Chroí sculpted through her tresses, the pinkish flowers softened against the brilliance of the natural highlights in her hair with a crown of fragrant red Vivendel circling the top of her head. When Joulupukki saw her slowly walking down the winding staircase in the vestibule, her long azureus gown flowing like a stream down the stone of each tread, he was struck dumb. As she passed from step to step, the living hand rail bloomed deep violaceous coveys of wisteria flowers, a gift from Seileach's Forest Elves working in coordination with the Garden Elf. The whole ceremony felt like a dream. He listened as her bare feet tapped gently against the stone of the foyer tiles and crunched as she moved into the sand path of the courtyard where she joined, arm in arm, with her father who guided her from sun to shade and without any reticence placed her hand in Joulupukki's and stepped away. They stood beneath the willow tree and pledged their love and loyalty to one another, and, at length, were greeted by the numerous elves that lined the path winding through the Keep from the vestibule to the courtyard and back into the Great Eating Hall, where a feast was laid out for all of the village elves to join in the festivities.
Many years peacefully passed as the Elfin Clans' Council refined their guidance of the elves of all six clans, each clan developing their own council that took deference to the lead of the Council of Six. On occasion Joulupukki was asked to offer his opinion and vote on a difficult issue on which the council was split. There were elves that were elected to the council who were hungry for power but none could muster the votes to gain control before their term came to an end. Eventually Seileach was relieved of his position as Elder Councilman and Ceridfen took over. Lumi, at the request of his friend Joulupukki became a member of the Village Council and eventually the Council of Six.
The wheels of the chaotic times churn for them
the sands of demolished dreams in the desert of life,
settling frenzied on the unstratified fragile structure
of the disorganized dunes of their desolate existence.
The sequestered moments of distressed awareness,
drift the dust of disarray to the foyer of failed being.
The truth of trustful conviction sinks under suffering
made with mirage on the ruffled ripples of disorder.
In lonesome languished life’s impoverished landscape,
sorrow-paved pathways contour convoluted uncertainty,
wind to nowhere at the fading fringe of the time future,
beyond the befuddled perception of toiling time present.
In their murky manifestation drugs promise barred freedom,
tender transitory escape from reality, as they crawl under skin,
strengthen grip on pain that silently subsides for a while
in bodies slumped in smoky alleys, eyes unclosed but not seeing.
With the faceless faces smeared by the shadows of scorn
they walk on the slimy illusive streets of hollow dreams.
Life trampled by insolent wavering footsteps in journey
under the stupor of opoids that never ends their pain.
They seek caring understanding of the society to help them
in search of the lighted path away from lone domain of despair
for their suffering souls to discern the abode of empathy,
as they strive to find the way out of the tunnel of dark time.
A city in the sky, a building so high.
Marble floors and the echo of business deals
I arrive in the foyer to access my future at 8.30 sharp.
Suited and booted and ready for work.
I loiter in the foyer and hear people making plans.
Familys meeting loved ones, and couples holding hands
Or is that god laughing in the back ground.
I board the lift press 93 and I rise above the crowd.
And like an angel I ascend into the blue sky.
The doors open and the name plate on reception said, gabriel
Hi I'm Arthur Simon, interview 8.40 here's my letter.
Sorry sir your interview at our down town office.
this is our head office, here at the world trade centre !
Sorry can you repeat, that planes very loud.
comp entry 11/09
ST. PAUL’S CATHEDRAL AND THE TRAMP
Thousands, perhaps millions of wily, desperate tramps have always been,
But this one far away across the seas was an unusual scene,
Lying on a slab of stone,
He had no existing home,
Thin, dirty and hungry, present in a place so pristine!
There are so many around and everywhere about,
But this tramp, above all others, no doubt stood out,
We saw him on holiday,
Whist on a trip to the UK,
T’was a man, couldn't’ tell alive or dead, but stout!
Where did we see this aging, neglected human being
At St. Paul’s Cathedral, in the foyer as you walk in,
Could see that he meant no harm
For inquisitive tourists, worked like a charm,
I felt awed by the spiritual presence of God, ever seeing.
Sunday, had gone to early mass, chilly put on our shawls
Humbled with its historic architecture and solid walls,
Princess Dianne married Prince Charles here,
She had no clue her funeral was near,
Forgetting everything, took part in mass in total enthral!
Heard angelic unbroken voices of pre-teen boys choir
Our family was spiritually enveloped, never been here prior,
We took our seats, no other noise,
Service ended with hymns from the boys
All dressed in rich red robes and outfits, ecclesiastical attire!
People permitted to walk around the cathedral, we saw tombs,
Royalty buried in this remarkable place, perhaps died with gloom,
History took place inside St. Paul's,
With its secret passages and halls,
And many controversial theological disputes solved in back rooms!
Remembered the tramp, was he OK, was he breathing,
Someone nudged him he didn’t move, another started her healing,
Were concerned, thought it should be reported,
He was dirty as soot, his hair knotted,
The tramp, nonchalantly sat up, stretched and disappeared, hymns singing!
Packets of food and milk were tucked in a corner,
And two blankets and a duvet, and an old pullover,
People from around and all the priests,
Saw he had essentials, no whisky treats,
The tramp was happy in his sanctuary like little Jack Horner.
2025.08.04.
On this Monday, I was so please,
To find a piano in a new place.
Its location, opening and closing hours;
The welcome notes stand erected next to it:
"Do you know a tune? Come and play me"
Have successfully lured me,
It was a Brash and Paling black baby grand piano,
So far everything suites me to a tea.
I sat down, cleaned the keys and started playing.
Strangely, I got nervous for no apparent reasons.
I played alright but missed a key every now and then.
I felt embarrassed and started to wonder.
There was no audience in the foyer,
Nor any one I knew of in this building,
So what was all these anxious feelings.
Over a few day, more and more people filmed me,
Especially when I played
"The Moon represents my heart" and "The Love Story".
I was overwhelmed by their sincere appraisals.
I thought hard and then realised,
It was the songs I chose,
The ways I played them with passion,
As remarked by Beethoven
"To play a wrong note is insignificant
To play without passion is inexcusable".
This time, I played and took regular breaks.
The tuning was much better than all others.
The sound was loud but subtly,
It still required tuning but not desperately.
Last but not least, the long opening hours,
Enable me to come in the early evening,
And that helped freeing up
My day time to do other things.
At the end of the first evening,
Some one asked if I would be back next week,
So he could hear more of my musics,
Well, it was nice to have a date with a music's purpose.
In another day, some one offered to help me
Gaining access to the piano on Sunday.
I was quite overwhelm by the whole situations.
This new experience suited me in every sense.
From memory, it was one year ago,
I warned BB about the Lunar month of the ghost,
I planned not to see him just for that month.
But he made a decision, terminated our friendship,
Without saying goodbye, nor giving any explanation.
Well, life moves on and definitely I have moved on.
However, if it was not for BB, I would not have played piano.
Ironically, he would never heard me playing.
I spent my day shopping with Ruby
(I find her an absolute pain)
Torturous tale to transmit truthfully
You'll kindly let me explain...
Friday I purchase veg and fruit routinely
A schedule pleasing to retain
Ruby put a spanner in habit supremely
Consumed by cranky campaign
Fondling each ripe piece - ridiculous
Their intact skin forsaken
Commentary made us conspicious
My cheeks stung pink as bacon
Fumbling excursion injected remorse
In friendly familiar domain
Ruby's cruel fruit critiquing discourse
Done with utter disdain
Finally (red faced), we got to register
- feat she pulled when paying
Whole shop hushed as a seminar
Short change accusation relaying
In dulcet tones in foyer, I refuted it
Calm voice rigorous to contain
Ruby's shrill insisted the fruit was s**t
Plus she'd have to check coins again
Adament she had been ripped off
- I found the debarcle innane
Cash register accuracy blatantly scoffed
Treatment of clerk barely humane
Pressed lipped shoppers regarded us
A pair of loons, I shaking frustrated
Hoped the dear got hit hard by a bus!
Notched her up to cousin most hated
3rd August 2020
Written for Contest : I Went Shopping With Ruby
Sponsor : Julia Ward
Government fiscal crisis
At least they defeated ISIS
Decisions made
Recognition fades
White house events
The political power spends
The perfect lawn
No one is forlorn
The grand tree in the foyer
Corruption ensues, what will they get? Perhaps a lawyer?
Press conferences and state dinners
Games are played, announcing the winners!
Trips to camp david
A piano is heard! Go and play it!
Speeches are sparing
Some think uncaring
Federal aid
Hurricanes come, assistance to be paid
Aggressive press
The ultimate test!
Foreign aid
Deals tone made
Climate change, some agree
What to do, plant a tree