Long Hunkered down Poems

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Premium Member Self Help

We'd awakened to soon reaching. 
for respite keeping PTSD at bay 
while anxiety attacks bicker with 
my Narcolespy my focus remains.
 
steadfast on Traumatic Brain injury 
allowing my cognitive activity to bravely 
send signals to stretch my legs and arms. 
I can feel a traumatic headache approaching. 

but so is the time for my monthly nerve blocks. 
injections twelve shots in my head in all 
granting me sheer relief for thirty days 
after the stream of pain forget me nots

wears off my mind goes back to the injury. 
bruising my brain sullen matter awakens me. 
I am quite shattered within the fight flight. 
mode hunkered down in hidden nooks of sanity. 

racing thoughts I sit up on the bed now. 
in the quiet calm of the night tall egrets 
walk by my window alert a family of fox's. 
nose's pointed at the moon snow birds I suppose.

here just for a season just like my thoughts. 
I chant and wonder if my brain would someday. 
stop no more data to be found in this! 
desperate state I began to write again. 

providing me a kind of self-medication
if you will effortlessly removing my mind 
from negative thoughts a real treasure 
emerge as my alter ego actually becomes.
 
my muse in this finite moment the stars all
line up just so twinkles sending signals sparks. 
waves of chemicals balancing sheer survival 
of my brain hence survival of the mind


Premium Member Hurricane Harvey

Hurricane Harvey arrived in the night,
pushing tidal waters onto the shore.
And wailing in the dark, absent of light,
His deadly winds surround His inner core.

Sucking up gulf waters, He spews out rain,
the torrential downpours flooding the ground.
And in His wake, destruction, death, and pain
abound; as the rains continue to pound.

The rivers peek and the sewers back up,
a slurry or water begins to rise.
And folks that hunkered down run out of luck,
now needing rescue, the world hears their cries.

Texans are tough; they don't come much tougher
but even they; aren't too tough to suffer.


(Sonnet)


8/30/2017
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member A Day At the Beach

His day began with "Reveille" blaring from within the bowels of the ship.
Sergeants yelled, "Up and at 'em lads!   We're takin' a little trip!"
He wearily arose from his bunk to don the accoutrements of war.
He'd survived Guadalcanal, now he faced Iwo Jima's fearsome shore.

They fed him steak and eggs - rookies joked that it may be their final meal.
But the battle-weary Marine was very grim - to him it seemed so surreal.
The chaplain gathered them around and offered a fervent prayer,
Pleading for God's protection and committing them to His care.

The grizzled old "Gunny" yelled, "First platoon over the side!"
"Down those lovely cargo nets, boys!  Semper Fi!" he cried!
Bobbing Higgins boats waited below to take him to that perilous strand.
The engines roared as the boat wallowed and rolled t'ward that ebon sand!

He hunkered down with the others, his helmet beating upon his nose.
Others used their helmets to receive bits of breakfast as the boat sank and rose!
Adding to the din of battle so familiar to his ears were shells flying overhead.
As his boat with its precious cargo neared the beach it was hit by zinging lead!

The boat struck a coral reef so they had to wade in water up to their hips.
He struggled with his heavy pack and rifle with a prayer upon his lips.
Brave men fell under withering fire that day as they tried to force a breach.
Brave men forever lost their innocence that day on that hallowed beach!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Way of the World

The once mighty have fallen,
Their ashes fills the air.
The new martyrs have risen,
Bringing tears of despair.

Behold the cold lawmakers,
They cast a shadow of doom.
Perched on lofty towers,
Like witches on a broom.

Pity the hungry masses,
No meat to fill their bowls.
Backs and spirits broken,
Now hunkered down like trolls.

Hearken to the righteous,
Their wings are no disguise.
They speak the words of peace,
With fire in their eyes.

Don't trust your quiet neighbor,
That's hiding from the sun.
Beneath the dark of night,
He'll shoot you with his gun.

Beware the silent partners,
Tyrants behind the scenes.
They rule the ups and downs,
And all the in betweens.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Tortured Soul

Life was hard and he had lost all that mattered
first his mother who was murdered on her way home.
He watched his Dad unable to cope with her loss
fade away to skin and bones a relief when he passed on.

His wife walked out on him with their three children
leaving him with a pile of debts and a broken heart.
He lost his job for too much time off with no reference
and soon he would lose his house to the bank and divorce.

Now the final straw he was terminally ill and in pain
constant debilitating pain that sapped away his strength.
Lining up the bottles he poured out a healthy sized drink
and placed the pills ready in rows, with six in each pile.

Putting on a selection of his favourite bands he hunkered down,
settling himself as comfortably as possible this last thing
in his own hands, he got to chose. Not the illness he would beat
that by his own choice, for him death no longer held any fear.

Sipping, swallowing he washed down the pills until none remained.
After all enough was enough and he had nothing left to lose.
As he drifted off he dreamed of better times now past and gone
Soon he was walking in pleasant green pastures, ahead he could see.

His parents waiting with smiles on their faces and open arms
a vivid bright light that burned his eyes and yet welcomed.
He walked through the veil with eager steps to perfect peace
leaving behind without any regrets, the empty husk of his body.
Form: Verse


Premium Member Cowboy and Aliens

Out on the range and hunkered down
Been out here for a week
The morning cold the range is brown
Mist rising from the creek

A deep roaring sound behind me
I spin around in fear
What I see does astound me
How is a spaceship sitting here

Door open and inviting
I feel the need to take a look
I find it quite exciting
It has got me on the hook

Standing in the open door
He is beckoning to me
More regal one I never saw
Or ever will I see

A pinch to check if dreaming
I did not feel a thing
But the river is still steaming
It has got me on a string

Walk over and go through the door
It is like another world
Pearl white walls a golden floor
And curtains all unfurled

A cowboy sitting on a chair
At last I feel at home
But looking least like anything
Out on the range I roam

His Stetson more a halo
On his back there could be wings
My body turns to jello
As I realise some things

Relax and sit there just be calm
We need to check you out
We will be quick and do no harm
Of that there is no doubt

Alien to you may be
We are from another place
Out there in the stars you see
From deep outer space

We will make a small quick test
Now don't be so aghast
Then compare it with the rest
We have taken in the past

To see the changes that you've made
In progress or recession
For years now has been retrograde
That has been our impression

So cowboy up as cowboys do
We will soon be on our way
You will be as we found you
With no inkling of today

Mist dispersing with the sun
I sit there feeling strange
Out here where the cattle run
The wide and open range

Get to my feet and saddle up
I have much work to do
Why do I feel so shaken up
I don't have a single clue

Credit Frimufilms / Freepik for partial image
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Roosevelt Road

they came in three's 
as my big brother 
placed a wooden plank 
splitting the rushing water
from the mouth of the fire hydrants
 
running throughout the city  
peace signs covered 
the corners as human 
stop signs lined roosevelt road 
twelve were present in thee upperoom

there was a round table of angst 
i suppose as the ice cream man 
quietly strolled down 
st louis ave. sirens sounded 
screams and wails abounded

bull horns rang out 
in front of whoopies burgers
bystanders hid on broken porches 
clinging to chain linked fences 
my dad filled with courage uncertainty

my white dress covered in mud soot 
from the grocery stores and goldblatts
being torched we huddled hunkered down 
upon hess school not far from woolworth 
across from douglas park
  
dandelions portrayed solace 
granduar beneath weeping willows
voices were fabric patterns 
sewed together  creating quilts 
maps of freedom a calm silenced grooved 
while picket lines shall not be moved

Premium Member Irma

Irma
 Franklin Price
9/7/2017

Irma came to terrorize
Spawned in the East Atlantic
Intensity as never seen
She's something quite Satanic

Became a category five
Before she touched the shore
With winds above one eighty
Around the wall and more

Came into the Leewards
Destroyed Barbuda Isle
Buildings, trees and autos
Left them rubble in a pile

What about the people
They hid and hunkered down
Some no longer with us
No longer are around

There was no stopping Irma
With that flat and tiny place
She set sights on bigger things
And Florida is the place

Along the way are other islands
To be pummeled with effect
Residents are praying
That Irma won't connect

Likewise within the Sunshine State
The people kneel and pray
That Irma veers before them
Turns north and moves away

Predicted there by Saturday
September nine will tell
The weather men a little stumped
When and where she rings the bell

God, please protect the people 
As big Irma makes the fall 
Protect our friends and family
And the people one and all
Form: Rhyme

Dear Self


Carelessly you threw away each wise act of preservation for sake of being loved
 
Today I wonder about yesterday.  Why life took you to the brink, as you hunkered down that living rage.  Losing yourself in selfless acts of heroism everyday you never counted the cost, and when life got overwhelming, you disappeared inside a world of fantasy.  A place where you could not be found.   An angry fist lay dormant, while you gave yourself away like a good wife, mother, woman, child.  Yet that frozen smile on your youthful face never reached your amber eyes.  You gave it all for free, never asking anything back.  Full of empathy you lend your hands to hospitals, nursing homes and mental centers.  You read to the sick, rocked the cripple and closed the eyes of the dying. 

Then came the day when you faced the girl in the mirror and realized you were broken.  Feeling discarded, unappreciated, lost and hollowed, you realized how abused and used you felt.  Filled to the rim with unexpressed anger you went through the motions of life with efficiency but you were so unreachable. 
During therapy you opened up and slowly began to understand that life was about self care as well as helping others. You finally found the courage to face your demons.  Eventually you spoke your truth and forgave your abusers.  Moving on, to a place of self worth.  Once you realized you mattered, you found your true self and became the woman you are today. 
  
As you separated the wheat from the chaff, you figured out what was important and what was not.  Today I want you to know dear self that I am so proud of you and the aging woman that you have become. 

Thank you, Dear Self 
Without you, I would never have been able to heal myself.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Prayers

Perched high upon the escarpment
of sandstone rubble, the boy sat,
shaded from the rising of the sun
in the shadow of Kings.
Sharp eyed he preyed 
upon the tourist below, and to his God Allah.
His path was a treacherous one
looped and twisting like the snakes of ochre gold
shone cresting the brow of Ramesses
in the unearthly Valley of the Kings;
far from the osprey and marsh grass
of the beloved Nile.

Below the boy, on a zigzag path 
between the mouth-like openings to the netherworld,
tourists swarm, ants on a mound of honey stone
suckers of sweetness, oblivious, 
as they had done for centuries.

He sat as his father before him
hunkered down knees to chest
the vulture heraldic creature of Upper Egypt
death eater, little had changed except
now the robbers wore blue jeans and not the hajab.
He had earned his small bit
of the twentieth century..hawking

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