Long Hassled Poems
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When you get to, to the place that
I must leave you, when you get to th' station
When you look back, will it matter?
If I treated you badly would you forgive me?
Broken down, I'll be sorry at the station
Sister's relief, a brother's regret, at the station
There were details, misunderstandings
Hammers and nails, and bad relations
You remember, like the ocean don’t
As true love forgets, like I don’t remember
Give as good as you get at the station
Sister's relief, a brother's regret, bad relations
I‘m sliding now, into tomorrow
Wi' nothing left t‘ steal or t' borrow
You just went on, hassled n' hustled
Th' devil took you home, now not so troubled
Broken down I am sorry, at the station
Sister's relief, a brothers regret, bad relations
Then comes the call of the witch named Kabbath,
That signals the start of All Hollow's Black Sabbath.
And, from the dark crypts and the blackest of holes;
Come the night creatures, as the Midnight Bell Tolls
Come Goblins and ghoulies, black creatures all hassled.
Come the fiends of the night that haunt the High Castle.
To the cemetery fields where the undead lay waiting
For the black orgy to begin their unholy mating.
Witches, black sorcerers, and warlocks all
Dance to the wind at this black magic ball.
Their music the cry of ten million lost souls;
All hither they come as the Midnight Bell Tolls.
All gathered at last, at this darkest of hours.
To wait for the sign of Satan's great power.
That'll send them in search all over the world,
To capture the souls of ye boys and ye girls.
So, let this be a warning this Halloween night
And pay heed to thy parents, they know what is right.
Though you search for sweet treats, wherever you stroll.
Be safe in your beds, when the Midnight Bell Tolls.
On an afternoon walk-about in my neighborhood, I was STARTLED by a german shepherd when he came racing around the CORNER. I thought for sure that I was 'a GONER' because I'm no high-speed RUNNER. And I must confess that my heart certainly skipped a beat or two. Moreover, when I realized that I was not HASSLED, I nearly
surprised myself. It happened so fast, and it was totally unusual
to see a dog alone. I tell you, to say the LEAST, he was without master and LEASH.
Just about a block from my home, my first instinct was to run, but the grace and solitude within me said, "If you RUN, you're DONE;
so don't run; be calm". So that is what I did, and the dog met me
and started walking with me as if we were old FRIENDS from
way-back-WHEN.
I like animals, but I'm not what one considers a pet-LOVER; and I can't say that I'm naturally one brave cowboy that never
runs for COVER, or that mine is a heart that doesn't respond to
fears or shocks.
I don't understand why my entire walkabout was not DAMAGED, nor can I explain why I MANAGED to be so calm and poised. I can only say that if I had run, I would have lost that RACE. And I can also say, "Thank God for His magnanimous GRACE".
042220PoSpCtest, Brian's Choice 8, Brian Strand
on my ride home
from work i
witnessed
a crime
for sure
ly so
many
crows
were
flocking to
the city to
protest
what
was
to
be
a
banging
of bells and a
whistling of whistles
to keep them from roosting
and pooping on people though
a stupid solution hatched to keep
them from coming but now in numbers
they refuse to
be hassled or
rousted by the
man and his
unfortunate
understand
ingly less
then real
ity but
morbid
ity of
the word
human
kind
in no
way
to say
they are
kind but in their mind for now
they have consecrated these
crows to become a murder
Form:
We loved the lollipops, cracker jacks, and Holloway candy sticks. We adored the chocolate-coated ice cream bars and the tootsie rolls.
We could not get enough of pop sickles, cool aids, and soda pops.
We sang a love song saying, “Ice cream, soda water, cream on top, tell me the name of your sweetheart”. We had the best-tasting cookies and cigarette candies that eyes had ever seen. We were just poor kids in America’s poorest state, but no kids were sweeter than us. Hot as fire, hassled and harassed by humidity and drops of sweat; but we were sweet, not from
our good-natured personalities but from the sweets that we ate.
Life was hard in my little Mississippi Delta town; But somewhere between hard work and chores; between feeding the chickens and the cows; between feeding the goats and the hogs; between watching TV and doing homework;
between the sun ups and the Sundowns; and between the dawn and the dust;
Yes, in between, we found time to play. Most times we were okay, didn’t go astray, and had lots of fun in the barns, playing in the hay.
We rolled rubber tires like we were driving fast cars; laughed out loud as we sucked whining balls. Money was always lacking, but we did our share of licking, chewing, and sucking the sweet stuff. We bought a lot for the few pennies, nickels, and dimes that we had. We could buy our treats cheaply back then. So, we did our best to stay sweet, chewing bubble gum filled with sugar. We didn’t have a care and learned how to share, and the sweet stuff was always there. 013008PSContest, Childlike Fun, Caren Krutsinger, 2P
Young like April, winds
Settling in the limbs of oaks,
Just past the crisp whisper
Cerulean drifting, tides
Graceful seas reminding me to
Listen as secrets poured
Past the graceful, splashing on sands
Lingering in the stillness, quietly
Praising in sprays of reassurance,
Silhouettes dancing…
Preventing me from smiling
The unsympathetic waves – cold
Like winter, plaguing my
Thoughts, splattering my ankles
With desperate mysteries,
Arising from the foamy feelings,
Rushing across the beach – surging
Like history, in the silence
Freeing my heart to breathe in
Darkness that succumbed to the
Colorless flow of melancholic
Currents, bleeding detached doubts
Emotionless memories – color me
Blind by the hues of indignant
Dreams, blurred over April’s
Toes as she tiptoes across the beach
During a spring thaw,
When everything – everywhere
Is icelike, frosty – flurries
Kissing away the joy of arriving
At the beach before the hassled
Vacationers begin to descend
On the Atlantic, where I found the
Chill to bring me a sense of peace
Like the warming of the sands
Never had in the past, on shores
Like a prayer, ascending
To be heard by the blesser
The miracle worker, the One
Who created wind and sea,
And everything that remembers
All the spring breaks – living
Inside of me, memorized
By my senses, the pictures
Never taken, but not forsaken
By my recollection of shared
History, the quiet – stardust moments
When light faded into a promise,
And the seas taught me to believe
Even the coldest water….
can feed my dreams!
SIMPLY POETRY 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John lawless
April 6, 2023
A big-headed dreamer, pockets full of hope
Say, that and five bucks gets you a cup of joe
Worn out Army boots and my Goodwill coat
Sky's overcast and it feels like snow
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
Left Mississippi, too many ghosts back home
So I headed out west chasing my next song
Got hassled in Houston by some local Joes
San Antonio's cool, I saw the Alamo
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
California's crazy, Sugarcane Sadie
Showed me a good time
That desert moon and those Dylan tunes
Still playing in my mind
In the middle of nowhere where the wind blows free
I think a while in Slab City might be good for me
Salvation Mountain like a beacon shown
The Word of God painted stone on stone
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
A big-headed dreamer, pockets full of hope
Say, that and five bucks gets you a pack of smokes
Worn out Army boots and my Goodwill coat
Sky's overcast and it feels like snow
©2018
Dumber than Dumber and Dumber...
Wondering about the plundering of a slumbering hunter king...
Thunder from down under sundering over the paper Sunday brings...
The flavor to be savored for later when the alligators escape the ring...
Sinking stinky shrink y dinks when the ding of the doorbell didn’t ring...
Fiending friends minus the “r” in new types of mining while whining...
Finding time for aligning the dining of jinxed schemes blistering a mister...
Fixating on everything,
Hating nothing,
Hustling and bustling,
Some muscle-
What a tussle-
More trouble-it is a daily type of thing...
Huddled, befuddled, bugged, drugged, once was hugged,
What a lovely thing!
Tugging on a rope for Cope,
NOT coping but hoping and hoping,
Smiling over that sink,
NOT winking, slinkies shrinking and expanding,
Chest pounding, wound, drowning,
NOT clowning, frowning, at downing more towny styled vodka drinks,
Bout to doubt more @ the shouting in store,
Illegal activities, radical tattle, two-paddle style wild child mascot teams,
Hassled twenty million castles for fascist rapping more poetry,
You know it be; still a honeybee that is me...
Cheese! For my Queen strung out like a string bean seeing what life brings all steamy,
... A Midsommer Night’s Dream
When he was young. I thought he was old. It never occurred to me that I might be wrong. That old wouldn’t show up for years and years, decades even. He wasn’t tall like my grandfather. But he wasn’t short either. He had a habit of biting his cuticles that I inherited and would be reluctant to give up until I found myself with dentures and the inability to truly bite through the meat of the cuticle. I don’t know if he discovered the same inconvenience when he started wearing dentures but feel like he must have. When he left my mother, back in 1977, I wasn’t devastated the way some children might have been. The devastation came when I found out that his leaving didn’t leave me with much of an option. I had to grow up and discover for myself – this world where I’d been a child, an only child at that. It wouldn’t take me long to realize that, without him at home, I had more liberty. I could ask for things and they would be given. I could stay overnight with friends without being hassled. I could do those things that he wouldn’t have allowed because he was more controlling than my mom. It was only when I got older, much older, that I would remember the days before he left without thinking to myself, I must have got that from him. The angry words, spoken before thinking. The jealousy that came in spurts. The dark side of myself. The side that was so unlike my mom, who was a reflection of grace itself. It would take me many years to whack away at those character traits that made me realize I was, like him, the “bad guy”. It would take me years, and he became old as I lived. In his old age, I could see that he wasn’t as big as I remembered him to be. He wasn’t as bad as I’d thought he was. I realized that he was just a child himself. A child, when I’d thought he was old. But when old finally showed itself, it came with such defeat that I knew he wasn’t as strong as I’d thought him to be, either. In fact, I could see he was quite weak. So weak. He’d put on that strength like a coat, just a coat to help him survive the storms. While inside, he’d felt feeble all along. Just like me.
tears never melted
the silence between our hearts
though years misjudged us
Cut from the same cloth, certainly didn't apply
I'd lived twenty places, was born to improvise
You had one home, parents, sister, two nephews
Persistance forced my flighty spirit to accept you
Invited to hang with your family on usual basis
Questions about my background always evaded
Overheard your Dad say after a dinner one eve
" Son, truly.... Get a nice girl, not so zany - leave"
As would most men aged 24, in new relationship
With age 19, you paid no heed, an excuse to slip
Finally away from the family home, we moved
Interstate, far from scrutiny, habits disapproved
A year passed, dreams and dramas wrestled
Competed for front row view of young love nestled
Between marital bliss, mortgage payments, careers
Told folks we relied on your income, truth more severe
Four nights a week exotic dancer took a heavy toll
Your folks hassled you, different girl a better goal
" See how good Mum's been to me," he implored
Soon after discovered my job, they took no more!
Arrived on next flight - your Dad stupidly locked me out
Enraged, I pay most the mortgage, he couldn't discount
Hours later, he emerged scowling, dragged you elsewhere
I struggled to digest your choice, sudden diminished care
Rough days passed, your invasive Dad in your ear
You came to see me despite his advice not to come near
Announced you'd decided to return, to sponsorship offered
Engineering degree, future safe, my funds they scoffed at
Twenty years onward, confounded by that night's velocity
Dangled disheartening aspect, our perfectly drawn ferocity
Sobbing estatic cries mingled greasily, future severed us
Relishing your resurrection, impossible stood impervious
Worshipping each crest and crevice, tears wiped, wet again
Pleasure mounted meal of now, rubbed sliced, salted in pain
Wounds of what was coming consumed core and limbs
Sunset and sunrise conjoined, ongoing herald of eroticism