Long In one fell swoop Poems
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It was never my intent to collect the creepy crawlers
but I couldn't make myself swat them with a broom.
I thought they might be useful one day, on brawlers
who make trouble, like aphids on roses in bloom.
So, the meshed bag became the receptacle I used
to keep them alive. One by one, I joined them together
but fed them daily. Of spider abuse I'd not be accused!
I watched them interact in the prison tied with a tether.
There was no fighting among them when there were three
Respectfully, they kept their distance in separate corners
even when I threw in a fly, a moth and a tiny dead flea.
I wondered if they died, would there have been mourners?
It seems arachnids could teach humans a lesson in humanity
When my bag began to move on its own, I knew it was time
to set them free. You may question my sanity and the inanity
of releasing the creatures but keeping them would be a crime.
Where would they best be turned loose in one fell swoop?
The rose garden! Infested with pests on which they'd feast!
I opened the bag carefully and they marched as a troop,
conquering heroes of the Rose War, each bug eyed beast!
Shame on those who malign the green bean casserole!
It gustatory delightfulness I shall e'er extol!
With 'fork in cheek' I'll take nonbelievers to task,
And their foibles and biases will strive to unmask!
Folks who disdain this dish ain't tellin' the truth.
Their culinary tastes are so pitifully uncouth!
I'd like to meet the feller who began this unsavory fable,
To ask why he destined it for such an untimely label!
At the church potluck dinner on fellership night,
There's always a green bean casserole to my delight!
A holiday repast with bountiful board just ain't complete,
Unless there's the inevitable green bean casserole to eat!
'Tis such a scrumptious dish, yet so easy to prepare.
Even I could whip up a batch, I really do declare!
Mix some beans, some onion thingys and mushroom soup,
And there you have it folks, all in one fell swoop!
Ere I flee this realm I aim to found as one of my goals,
"The Society For The Propagation Of Green Bean Casseroles!"
Upon my stone you may etch when I end this life's pursuit:
"Many were the green bean casseroles consumed by this galoot!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
She was a star – I was a gazer
Imagine my surprise
when the stage door opened
and in walked a goddess
Dark hair, dark eyes,
a bounce in her step,
a leap in mine
Fiddling with the curtain cord,
I lost my balance
and my heart in one fell swoop
Spot lights focused,
igniting the stars in my eyes
which were still dim in her glow
Dressing rooms offered
champagne and cherries,
but she looked at me
Double checking the script,
it wasn’t a love story -
a poetic rewrite was in order
I handed it to her when I finished,
she tossed it aside
and kissed me
The curtain went up
and the audience applauded,
a standing ovation
She was a star
and I was a gazer -
now we shine together
Three fine fellows listening
to a concerto of cello
Dined at a picnic
under a weeping willow
While one turtle flew
over the chicken coop
Two ostriches looped
around on hula hoop
All got together
for a bowl of purple soup
Before digging into
a luscious cantaloupe
Stacking high a
mountain of marshmallow
They munched a bunch
of mellow yellow jello
With a big dessert spoon
in one fell swoop
While troubadours played
music for the dance troop
Read on air by invitation ~ March 2, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: Honorable Mention 2021, Front Page Pick 2021
Submitted on March 6, 2019 for contest HONORING DR.SEUSS sponsored by MICHELLE FAULKNER - RANKED 3RD
Racism. Trying to prove ones skin tone or ethnicity is superior to another’s.
Why we let a such word control society is beyond the human brain.
Why it is unfathomable to process we are all made of the same thing; but different because of how we come? Incomprehensible.
Why most are unable to understand that being baked in a different bakery, at a different temperature, slower or faster, rising more quickly than others or not; is a perfect example of how close minded we have become. Do your conditions not make you not bread?
We are all made of the same things, carbon mostly. Along with Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus.
Yet because the outer coating of someone’s body, that has nothing to do with what kind of person they are, they are targeted as a lesser class.
Elaborate why, when all the things, that all races have discovered,and accomplished are so completely amazing, we still discriminate?
Did you know the three light-stop-light was invented by an African American? Or that Thomas Edison collaborated with an African American scientist who created the most vital part of the light bulb?
Not only is the actual racism a problem, it’s the misleading term that gets most people.
You are not a racist if you dislike a person with the same skin color of your own; only if you dislike the whole population of people, because of their skin color.
We could move so much further towards making the world a happier place. We could bring together whole communities and end all slurs in one fell swoop. We need this change, for future generations. If only we could only see past what is another persons pigmentation.
We are a species of infinite curiosity, with the resources and assistance to satisfy it. We as a whole, every single color, race, ethnicity, religion, we have created so much beauty.
But we let skin color define us.
Courtesy viz (g)natty Thrip Pest...
This client (Matthew Scott)
availed himself at behest
of following counselor
who bares his chest
to Stephanie Dodds
(maid 'n USA name)
taught technique to minimize
ruffling feathers lest
the missus aggrieved
spending her nest
egg, thus self and missus
live destitute oppressed
as two basket of deplorables stressed
nearly every day envisioning
castles in air pipe dreams
when getting undressed
preparatory to dreams
within illusory shut eye
yours truly dons fancy vest
believe me you sold by Kanye West.
DEAR MAN skills
(feeble attempt more daunting
versus scaling Mount Everest)
embraced with zest
supported and blessedly underwritten
by loan granted from Univest
Bank ohm my dog to mitigate electric
resistance while no resistance
against kool psychological aid acid test,
whereby this husband espoused,
to help him recharge, (re:volt if necessary)...,
which endeavor now poetically expressed
concerning contentious gripe(s),
she would concur challenges we contest
beat within mine (possibly her) breast
unavoidable series of parallel events
disallows me to experience respite
as ye correctly guessed
impossible mission until
death do me part heavenly blessed,
meanwhile to maximize insight woke
involving DEAR MAN skills
with following example I attest
triggered food for thought
countless years gone by, no jest
which behavior even
eldest daughter did detest
specifically oft time ebt -
Electronic benefit transfer
i.e. food stamp money addressed
when wife spent lion's share
in one fell swoop, I did level best
to communicate while pride
hide hid ingest, wife acquiesced
yet without fail repeated offense
whereby mister diplomacy here
explained (with diminishing patience)
allocated funds sole comestible expense
then included four family members
issue got heated more emphatically
groused at my sidelined request
invariably spiking discourse
else... I threatened to divest
and stow card in wallet (mine),
yet invariably relinquished said item,
perhaps first will and testament bequest
if imposed, enforced, adhered...
would have nipped in bud
finding yours truly less obsessed,
nee furious every month
the vicious drama cycled
smoldering resentment did crest
into shouting tense match,
thus body electric lamely fleshed.
If you feel we evolve by chance,
here’s something that you must decide:
the type of steps that you will dance
explaining how blood cells divide.
Now only mammals do this split
which seems odd on the face of it.
For surely wings need oxygen
in the same way; where to begin?
See, mammals have erythrocytes
That have to squeeze in places tight.
Apparently, they found it scary
traveling the capillaries.
And so, it’s said, mutation error
found a way to meet this terror:
eject the red cell nucleus
and slide on through without the fuss.
Capillaries in a mammal:
needle’s eye through which a camel
passes, so the logic jumps:
just remove those great big humps!
And so is formed an apparatus
in an instant, all for gratis.
But wait! No, Darwin’s change evolves
through incremental change, resolves.
First the stem cells must divide
since capillaries are too wide.
Then, as we’ve discussed,
they must pinch off the nucleus.
To do this, cells must build a ring
That somehow pushes everything
within the cell all to one side,
constricting forces, slow applied.
A soft spot in the wall then sprouts;
the nucleus gets pushed right out.
Pinched out just like a bit of dough:
it takes ten minutes, rather slow.
From here, it seems, we pick the best:
enucleated blood cell test.
There cannot be an in-between,
emerging slowly on the scene.
It must appear in one fell swoop
for Darwin filters out the soup,
discarding any useless bits,
unfinished intermediates.
The magnitude of change required:
too great for chance; time has expired.
This leads some learned folk to say
it must have been designed this way.
ALAFFIA EVERYDAY COCONUT SHAMPOO
Yours truly (me)
just an ordinary primate from the human zoo,
who while ambling along
the boulevard of broken dreams on a Green Day
(just me and my shadow)
I experienced unexpected lionizing flattery
courtesy Pink Floyd,
he went ape and shouted "hey you"
out there in the cold
getting lonely, getting old
but honest to dog,
I took the road less traveled
unexpectedly encountering
fire breathing creatures
imagine dragons puffing
at these lovely bones
that constitute a generic guy,
a madding crowd qua at least one
with multiple talking heads
quite frightful harried styled beastly yahoo
primitive creature obsessed with "pretty stones"
popularized by Jonathan Swift
in the fourth section of Gulliver's Travels
trying their damndest to woo
yours truly, an aging baby boomer
and long haired styled pencil necked geek
he/him even extended
an invitation to their next venue
to frolic in the autumn mist
in a land called Honah Lee,
hence methought to spruce myself up
to undergo a major makeover
courtesy Salon Nova beauty technician,
and in one fell swoop
off went approximately a dozen inches
of mine lovely brunette locks of love
(tinged with natural gray),
and upon getting
to the house at Pooh Corner
I swiftly tailored mine appearance
showering and sudsing hair
with aforementioned product
(videre licet title of poem)
suddenly unconditionally loving
the new Matthew Scott Harris
immediately accepting an awesome
handsome kickass transformation
awash with true value,
especially after liberally appling
Eco Style Olive Oil Styling Gel
with damp hands quite a challenge,
but cap I did eventually unscrew
ready to rock and roll with the Monkeys
(with other artists... Guess Who)
at a rave in Timbuktu,
whereat paparazzi snapped pictures
asking me to stand still as a statue
encased within a stone wall
(think Andrew J. Jackson)
unexpectedly espying my likeness
in the next issue
of classy fashion magazine
nothing but accolades
with stunning breathtaking photographs
populated the Harris review.
(alternately titled: tongue in cheek humor
cuz the following hyperbole
from this pencil necked baby boomer
without intent to badmouth,
nor start unfounded rumor,
who chalks, i.e. attributes gobbledygook
to funny bone tumor).
Impossible mission maneuvering around
soiled clothes pile
floor to ceiling humongous mound
terse reply hopefully adequately sound
to convincingly doth explain
absent poet buried alive underground,
perhaps never heard and/or found
till 1-800 GOT JUNK uncovered
emaciated (lovely bones)
formerly Matthew Scott Harris
his remnants discovered
visa vis mastercard bloodhound.
No need to fret
(while guitar gently weeps),
just talk to who barkeeps
works long late hours, he oversleeps
thus best track him down,
without uttering peeps
please find out if he knows
anybody reliably housekeeps
maybe lady luck will
thru think magical realism
deliver sophisticated robot
harkening within outer limits
from twilight zone
hookin get the job done
in one fell swoop sweeps.
Meanwhile yours truly
tries to remain upbeat
despite being royally tricked
upon pledging his troth
haint cool wedded bliss
heavily perspiring courtesy ultraheat
smellbound by malodorous laundry
necessitating heavy amount
of clorox to pretreat
which I rather drink,
(and thank president Trump)
for sakes Pete!
Though the misses upholds
voluntarily cooking as wifely role indeed
worth commendable attention,
I do concede
and doth adequately buzzfeed
her hubby lest he
wither away to lovely bones
(well past due date
late to avoid
above mentioned outcome,
his (mine) corporeal
being well nigh freed,
thus complaint regarding
spindleshanks solved no knead
to strain skinny ankle muscles
and maintain self promise
holy matrimony, cuz
aye know weed
never remain married forever
as initially agreed.
Fickle finger of fate
hath spoken thru smelly
potential Superfund site
perhaps... not amazing how heaping pile
of unwashed laundry can create
ecological hazard, that warrants B44
one bedroom apartment condemned
management understandably irate
to withhold security deposit
nearly four years at Highland Manor
now ready for model
domestic counterpart to debate
with her better angels where to relocate.
Dear Folks: Just a few lines from your homesick army draftee.
Just twenty-four hours in the army and if it was left up to me,
I'd just as soon go home and forget the whole blamed thing.
I feel I've been sentenced to life in the barren walls of Sing Sing.
My first train ride was exciting for this old country boy,
But beyond that the day has brought me very little joy.
I reckon I'll never get used to their regulations and rules.
The army is run by silly manuals written by asinine fools!
I was stripped naked for dozens of very minute inspections.
My arms are sore and swollen from numerous injections.
Remember those wavy locks of hair that I pampered for years?
In one fell swoop I was bald, almost driving me to tears!
They prepared reams of paperwork and advised me of my pay.
Wow! Twenty-one bucks a month, that's seventy cents a day!
I hoped to be an air corps pilot but the tests just didn't agree,
So I ended up as a buck private in the good old infantry!
The captain swore me in - it's for the duration plus six,
So there's no hope of getting out of this miserable fix.
It's time to hit the sack, soon "Taps" will start to blow.
Pray for me, write when you can, Your loving son, Roscoe.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)