Long I have no idea Poems
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7/10/16
No I don't know why
Two different people seeing the same thing thing with their own eyes
May have different interpretations of what happened, as time goes by
No I don't know why
Still all these stones fly
Near and far from areas that are bone dry
No I don't know why
Many pay no mind
To how the crow flies
No I don't know why
Not all are able to grow wise
While living above and below sky
No I don't know why
We aren't always given a chance to bid all of the folk bye
In case you didn't know home fry
No I don't know why
But I'd rather put all jokes aside
And watch the chimney smoke rise
No I don't know why
Most times
I was getting so high
No I don't know why
Very few planets we know of host life
I guess we've barely broke the ice
No I don't know why
I just don't lie
So if you truly want to go ahead and quote I
No I don't know why
Unless it's money, I'm not picking up any phone lines
Wherever, while the light on the coast shines
No I don't know why
I have no idea what I will and won't find
On both sides
No I don't know why
By: Dalton Ogletree
Pitch and Intonation:
Vowel length
Consonant Length
Speech Cadence
Agogic Accent
Dynamic Accent
Tonic Accent
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I have no idea of the things you say
what are you talking about
ah come on
what's you saying man?
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BlackBerries
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Spiritual Love
Sometimes the meaning of words is incomprehensible, like love
I have no idea what it means exactly, but dreams took me under the ocean
Goodbye love, goodbye Love, stop all the longing, human love of love
I am just looking for the real, the realistic love, there are only dead loves
But I feel a perfect love. I wanted that. Secret, given by a satan, loves Satan
A loved Master in spiritual life, in my soul and intellect life; walk on this life
‘You don’t need love.’ Master said.
I need it, but not the humanistic one.
‘That’s right. Exists this high love.
Just not in the Earth.’ Said Satan.
Take me there, oh my Grand Master!
‘The dimension gate open for you,
Your death will be the ticket there,
a one-way ticket.’ Said, dear Satan.
‘The rest of your human life is important.
Remember, now you are my student,
I am preparing you for your new life,
and new planet, there are your kinds.’
Satan promised.
I don’t need the love from my heart,
I want the only love from the mind.
‘This the highway of the spiritualism,
perfection without death.’ Satan said.
I love you, Master!
I prepare myself
That world
Waiting
You
Said
Master
When I am dissatisfied with someone or something
I look within and know I am really dissatisfied with me.
I need a new hobby, a new friend, a new job, a new something
So I begin to go to work
One day when I was dissatisfied I thought “What about poetry?”
I had written a poem six or seven years before.
One poem. Not two, just one.
I have no idea why I stopped there.
So I found a poetry site and I began to write poems.
Now when I look back at those first “poems” I laugh.
They were not poems at all, but really short stories.
The commenters were generous and kind to me though.
Now I have over seven thousand poems, and I love writing poetry.
All because I was dissatisfied on a Thursday during parent-teacher conference
When I had nothing to do for eight hours, because….
No one wants to see the counselor. No one.
Being archeological students, we figured camping out would be great.
I told my cousin, it’s a long ride to Chaco Canyon, let’s not be late.
He knew my high interest in the Anasazi, he assured me he would go.
Why he did not show up that night, I guess I will never know.
It’s the day he disappeared, but I saw him walking next to me in spirit.
Especially when we got close to the major complex, he was always near it.
When I miss my cousin, I go back out to this marvelous archeological site.
We speak telepathically to each other, enjoying the Arizona night.
Is he dead? My mother asks, she wants to tell her sister Grace.
I have no idea, I say, but there is something magical about this place.
Maybe because it is where Utah Arizona Colorado and New Mexico meet.
All I know is that Chaco Canyon is where I find my missing cousin Pete
help mrs. muse is gone and my mind is shooting blanks
my friend called inspiration is trying to walk the plank
motivation just married mr lazy
and confidence started acting really crazy
cousin common sense is on vacation out of town
and aunt intelligence is nowhere to be found
uncle rational is at the casino gambling his life away
and my best friend happiness never wants to stay
my neighbor opportunity doesnt knock on my door anymore
and my girlfriend love is really just a whore
my partner pride is always full of himself
and sister sympathy is busy with someone else
grandpa wisdom is smart enough not to say a word
and grandma compassion is seen but never heard
the only friends that ever come to town
is anger and disgust and they always hang around
my high school sweat heart infatuation doesnt really call
and my childhood friend imagination doesnt exist at all
I languish in a summer’s breeze
As I tumble backwards
To childhood
I hear the sound of the train
Rumbling down the tracks
I have no idea why this brings me such joy
Other than a penny will be squished in my honor
The train sounds its warning at the crossing
It voyages to the beyond, places that for a child
Seem to be in foreign lands
I am content here, in the meadows of memories
Here I feel the past painting its history into my very being
Rain pours downs days after day
The brook fills with life, the hills full of green
I, in wellingtons have never been happier
Life surrounds my little feet, as I wander in the meadows of delight
Later I gaze out the window, surreal in ancestral contentment
I somehow know this is my past, enticed by natures grasp
For a child’s paradise, soon too end
When reality comes to the dance
Now as I gaze down the road
Where once trains traveled in glory
The station is gone
The tracks no more
Yet I walk down this road of memories
Drowning in desire
For days of the past
Were a child’s heart
Still danced in Meadowville
Amongst the lingering winds from the sea
Sixty eight sheep dancing on my head
Wandering across my face, declaring me quite dead.
Sure they are little but mighty you see
They are fleecy and funny and tickling me.
Just count sheep my shrink said kissing me off.
I wanted to go; she had a giant Covid 19 cough.
Just count sheep, she said, with a wave of her hand.
I had no idea I would end up in sheep-shearing land.
They are lining across my belly, in line for their cut.
Some have bikini waxes, others, shave off their big butt.
The next thing you know they will be cutting my hair too.
Then frankly I have no idea what I will do.
Sixty eight sheep twirling up and down on my bed.
I wanted to sleep, but I am babysitting instead.
Sixty eight sheep, no, wait. Here’s another ewe.
Insomnia is killing me. What the hell should I do?
Always been creative in one form or another
It's definitely what turns my crank
Sometimes I wish I could turn it off but no dice
Been blessed with this very creative mind
Which can actually be a real curse
At times I'd just like to kick back
Put my mind in neutral and let the world go by
I think the word I'm thinking of is "vegetate"
However, this word is not part of my vocabulary
Those that don't suffer from it can't imagine
Why I would want a break from it
Well, to begin, normal things like watching TV
Or watching a movie at the theatre not hold my interest
They are non productive hours
I know, you must be thinking, "poor soul!"
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being me
Although at times it can be overwhelming
Writing poetry is my current outlet
I have no idea what could possibly come next
Maybe I'll write a symphony, a la Mozart!
© Jack Ellison 2014
This picture is of the Columbine flower by John Denver.
(He was dead long before the shootings at Columbine.)
In my life, I was so blessed to meet you.
You cherished all people, nature, and I think
God designed His glorious sky just for you, too!
Besides your music, I know you cared about
all the hungry folks on this earth.
And you started the Hunger Project wherein
people could plant from our God’s fine earth.
You sang of God’s creation, which is far more
than I will ever do.
What an infinitesimal thing a POTD is, well, John,
when compared to your tunes.
I am so glad to this day, I had a personal chance
to talk with you.
You were as humble and beautiful as the twinkling
stars at night we love to view!
I have no idea why your plane crashed so-suddenly,
with you into the dark sea..
But here is one of your photographs, that is as beautifully
created ……as thee!
6/26/2023