Long Gentle as a lamb Poems
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Since I was a kid,
they said I was gentle as a lamb.
Quiet.
Kind.
Smart.
So I've kept that image.
Or tried, at least.
I didn’t fail.
Not once.
Grades stayed high,
mouth stayed clean,
choices stayed safe.
No vices, no trouble,
just quiet nods and
“Yes, I can.”
“Yes, I will.”
I built a life that made people proud.
And slowly, I forgot to ask myself,
"Are you proud too?"
Well, I guess I am.
I’ve built a good name, after all.
But looking back now,
I feel sadness
because every praise I get
feels like a quiet command
that the only room I should enter
is the room of success
Every applause disregards the possibility
that I could fail at any time.
It’s like a tooth,
one that never got to grow
because a “perfect” one
was already there.
I should bear the weight of the crown I chose,
but as time passes by,
it grows heavier,
stiffening my every move.
Now that I’m older,
I wish to live without any standard.
To enjoy life and everything it offers.
I wish to say no without guilt.
I wish to rest without thinking of time.
I wish to live without having to earn it first.
But with a heart as brittle as glass,
A mind that easily overflows with thoughts,
With soft eyes that cry too easily—
Is it even possible?
POEM OF THE DAY : 20.10.25
[Poet’s Note : Form : This poem combines Haibun with
Specular Fugue, giving a straightforward descriptive journaling type Haibun more analytical depth, making for a more interesting & informative experience for reader, overlaying description with analytic style. ]
______________________
With intense curiosity five kinky haired
African women watched her. Her hair sleek, her skin caramel,
wearing lilac pyjamas. Nobody instructed her to change into
hospital gear. She did not understand Tswana. They understood
English. Her Cuban surgeon was gentle as a lamb.
Their surgeon was a tough Afrikaner.
Afrikaners were toughened by trekking,
lambs skipping across conquered land.
Tswana was not an easy language to learn.
They starched hospital gear to last longer.
Lilac her favourite colour, opp-arting her caramel skin,
mottled by disease. Her hair from Malaysian and Indian genes,
mixed stew genetics, like all from the human race.
Dark eyes observed her struggle onto high hospital bed,
hip broken, with cartilage in tatters. Noisy Tswana cackles,
like hens on heat, bombarded her smile. She kept it on, an emoji.
Slowly the chicken run morphine disco calmed.
She could not endure morphine chokes or
polite falsehood steady. Hens were her evening friends,
feeding them a favourite chore. Their eggshell membranes
she swallowed for cartilage, her eyes flickering gratitude.
Gratitude is an abc lesson.
It is broken eggshells today.
Teen friends were loyal comrades,
their feedback raw honest. Being polite
strengthens boundaries, sometimes.
Morphine is gold during war.
Cheerily she remarked : “I know you are gossiping about me.”
All five women burst into raucous laughter, forging new friendships.
Friendships forged through pain and laughter.
Some humans learn via gossip.
Be cheerful about others not knowing.
+++
hospital wards full
patients support one another ~
laughter kills the pain
__________———-________________———-
Death isn't what you think it is,
At least not when you sit with Death
Death I know. I know because once
I was in the same room with Death
Death isn't horrific, she, he is not a monster,
it was not frightening when I met Death
Death claimed my father when I wasn't there
but she, he waited for me, the night I met Death
Death took the warm breeze from my father's chest
left him cold to the touch I was there next to Death
Death stole my father's voice left him quiet among the roar
of silent tears. I felt the moisture in the room next to Death
Death left with no more then what filled shallow pockets
graciously bowed on the way out, so I bowed to Death
Death I knew walked out empty handed as he does
my father's life still burning in memories, so I bowed to Death
my father's body was dead in that hospital bed
but I couldn't help kiss warm my father's flesh
but I couldn't help speaking to him "I love you Dad"
three years passed since that night
my father is still alive in memories bright
he accomplished so much, touched so many
never a time when I needed my Dad
never once was he not there to help
how could you be sad for a man like that
he lives in my heart sheltered there
even when I am long gone he will live
preserved by my children and then theirs
how could you feel sad for a man like that
Always stood a giant in the largest of crowds
He was loved and admired, he never died
He was just needed somewhere else
Death isn't always what you think. he, she came and left
light as a feather I barely felt the presence of Death
Death?
I've met him, when I meet her again
there will be no fear
Death!
It isn't always what you think it is.
When I met Death it was gentle as a lamb.
Maurice Yvonne
09/23/2014
Contest: The Poet III
Sponsor: Gautami Phookan
I praise myself- a 'feral' animal,
so like you, Elephant- majestic, wild;
your dedication to herd families
has influenced me since I was a child.
Like you, dear Elephant, instincts abound:
a mother, matriarch surely I am,
consumed with 'tribal' harmony, like you,
fierce guardian- yet, gentle as a lamb.
Brave elephant, devoted to a fault,
my sense of duty matches yours for sure.
Connected still, and leading when I can,
so that like you, my kindred will endure.
Like you, a power animal, I'm strong
for young ones of my 'herd', and elders too.
My mental 'tusks' plow through life's challenges
and make it easier to help them through.
My empathy and telepathic sense,
like you, attune me to familial needs.
Staunch Elephant, your deep connectedness
and cogent, native skills inspire my deeds.
As imitation mimics flattery,
you, Elephant, I've followed many ways.
Your species has survived billions of years;
that 'feral' part of me- mimes you in praise.
June 15, 2017
~2nd Place~
Contest: A Poem Honoring Spirituality Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Judged: 05/07/2020
~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Feral
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Judged: 08/10/2018
~2nd Place~
Contest: Favorite Animal In The World
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Judged: 06/04/2018
~9th Place~
Premiere Contest: Spirit Guides
Sponsor: White Wolf
Judged: 06/23/2017
“If anyone wants to know what elephants are like,
they are like people only more so.”
— Peter Corneille
That 'feral' part of me- mimes you in praise.
You, Elephant, I've followed many ways;
your cogent, native skills inspire my deeds
as you attune me to familial needs
I make it easier to help them through
for young ones of my 'herd', and elders too,
so that like you, my kindred will endure-
my sense of duty matches yours for sure-
fierce guardian- yet, gentle as a lamb
a mother, matriarch- surely I am-
you've influenced me since I was a child;
so like you, Elephant- majestic, wild.
May 29, 2020
~1st Place~
Contest: My Spirit Animal
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Judged: 06/07/2020
Form: Couplet- Written as a Reversible Poem-
can be read up or down.
(Newly formatted poem, with references
from a former poem)
A two dollar bill gives me a chance if you will
Sweet Jesus let me win the lottery
I hope it's not a sin to pray for me to win
Sweet Jesus let me win the lottery
I will gladly tithe and give to charity
I will be so good for its clear to me
Sweet Jesus let me win the lottery
No more wine women and song
Just a six pack of brew and a sexy blonde
Sweet Jesus let me win the lottery
I do church on Sundays and if its a lot
I'll even do Wednesday evenings with the potluck
Sweet Jesus let me win the lottery
No more cussing or fussing or complaining
I'll be gentle as a lamb, after prayers shout amen
Sweet Jesus let me win the lottery
I've been too poor too long
Just once I want enough to get along
You know I will share, end each day in grateful prayer
Sweet Jesus! Dear Jesus! Let me win the lottery!!!
Defined By Idioms
Naked truth, bent nails
dead men tell no tales
bad Apple, broken mirrors
burnt out light bulbs, crocodile tears
spilt milk, goose chase
two cents worth, rat race
rotten egg, bad to the bone
eagle eye, no place like home.
bat from hell,
pulled punch
big cheese,
no free lunch
can of worms, bleeding heart
knock on wood,
till death do us part
bite the bullet, checkered past
good as gold,
last laugh
burning bridges,
ball of wax
hold your horses start from scratch
wooden nickels ace up your sleeve
hair of the dog
all Greek to me
axe to grind
behind the eight ball
bigger they are
the harder they fall
jack of all trades cat's got your tongue
fair weathered friend
like father like son
small world
on thin ice
speak of the Devil roll of the dice
blood's thicker than water
lie like a rug
dime a dozen
when push comes to shove
dog eared pages
eye for an eye
bury the hatchet how time flies clean as a whistle C
chew the fat
crime doesn't pay. cover my ass
throw me under the bus gentle as a lamb
cold shoulder
hit the fan
buyer beware
woman's work never done
never say never
takes one to know one
come Hell or high water
pissing in the wind
pretty as a picture through thick and thin
beat a dead horse pass the buck
whole nine yards down on my luck
life’s a
don't rock boat
needless to say
go for broke
My life is the sum of trite cliches
Jaded expressions
so worthless so worn
I couldn't give it away