Long Intersperse Poems
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You lay sleeping, and I, awake, focus on you’re steady breathing in hopes it will lull me into at very least a meditative trance, if not actual sleep.
I stare into the blackness of the room, it’s expansiveness surprises me, intrigues me, then scares me, so I close my eyes blocking out the night. Rolling over I huddle into a ball and try to sleep. The electric hum of the household appliances fill the void, your occasional snores and snorts intersperse their melody. You lay sleeping, and I? I lay still resisting the urge to get up as I believe if I just lay still sleep will come, eventually.
You roll over and cuddle me. You lay sleeping, and I lay awake but happy wrapped in your arms, your knees snug up behind mine. I feel the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest and try to mirror it.
Slowly surly my eyes get heavy, the thoughts dissipate from my mind and I feel the heaviness of sleep being to over take me. BING, my phone intones from the living room. At first I ignore it, too tired and cozy to care, then I begin to wonder who it could be, and why. I have to know, and besides I’m thirsty, and I could pee.
You roll over, and I get up. You lay sleeping and I scroll mindless through my phone, the bright light making me squint so I put it aside.
“You ok”, I hear from the bedroom. “Yup”, I reply.
You instantly fall back into your easy slumber. I sit there in the darkness tired but awake.
I wish I could be you for just one night, sleeping so peacefully and easily.
How do you do it? Why can’t I?
You lay sleeping ….
I sit at my computer musing and trying to compose meaningful verse.
Try as I might with Shakespearian panache my lines to intersperse,
With profound nuggets of enlightenment to attain universal fame,
My concentration is lost in a fog, like an ever-changing movie frame!
I suppose I could blame this dilemma on my dear, long-suffering spouse.
She's cooking beef stew for supper - the aroma is wafting about the house!
Now, how am I to concentrate on versifying when my palate is just itchin',
To delve into that delectable ambrosia she's slaving over in the kitchen!
Ah! I can hardly wait to taste that mouth-watering olio awaiting me!
She makes the best in town, tossing all kinds of stuff in that potpourri!
Of course there is the best of beef that she has tenderized and diced,
And the scrumptious gravy with exotic herbs she has liberally spiced!
She adds sweet peas, a tolerable amount of corn and russet pertaters,
And just enough onions for my taste, green peppers and fresh termaters!
Green beans, carrots and a tad of celery top off this fantastic brew!
Le Cordon Bleu Chef at the Ritz dare not concoct a more elegant stew!
Alas, I've wasted all afternoon trying to hatch up some credible rhyme,
But my thoughts have been consumed with that ragout laced with thyme!
Ah! My wife announces supper is ready so I'm gonna load my plate!
That poetic masterpiece I had in mind today will just have to wait!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
From the Back of the Bus
The journey to school via that yellow tin can
They call it a bus at least where I come from, man
Long and narrow it transports it’s precious cargo
And delivers daily where we must show to grow
My favorite destination of that vehicle not of choice
Was the back of the bus so I could hide inside and rejoice
Many lessons were learned on the way to school
Observing life from that back of that melting pot pool
One learned about friendship between two friends
The shy kid whose ride was a means to an end
The bully that would run amok
Those were the ones that would have me duck
There were smiles and frowns alike
Most days I would rather ride my bike
Some days were up but most days were down
In the midst of the crowd and the class clown
Intersperse that beautiful girl
And the kids that made you want to hurl
Some were kind and some were tough
Seeing some of both was enough
Not realizing at that young age
This was preparing us for a different life stage
The ride was a daily grind
While I was looking for something else to find
From the back of the bus
Andreas Simic©
To glide with inspiration above quilted clouds
Where birds so often soar
Glimpse a sunset hued in gold
With many colors to adore
To grasp the muse that swing from creative vines
And sway from abstract thoughts
Upon the page release the lines
Which meander within the plots
Clasp the quill as the ink flows
And carefully craft each verse
Clutch the metaphors in rhyme or prose
As throughout the page they intersperse
Sometimes the ending can hold a surprise
And cause a gasp in its trail
The words flow subtly and with guise
Its meaning you then inhale
6-28-2021
Writing Prompt Grasp - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
What do you think of
when you hear that phrase
"A Soul is Divine"...
For me, it sparked word association
with the pre-WWII Polish Diary called
Divine Mercy in my Soul by Sr. Faustina
Poems start it and intersperse it...
baring her soul, Light/ and darkness
:) consolation/ and :( desolation
Revealing what is Divine
Mercy, Wisdom, Guidance
All that is good is of God
God, Who is rich in Mercy
loving our souls into being
loving each one, personally
Giving us another chance
letting us get to know Him
till we can say with conviction
A soul -- my soul-- is divine
because God loves me! :-D
```````````````````````````
"A Soul is Divine" Poetry contest
Sponsored by: Mohan Chutani
deadline: 7/24/2023
There was a time when she would delight to write
Words won't chime her muse did choose to leave
Her prime concern, to learn when words will flow just right
In muddled grime her mind can't find a verse
A dime might buy a vowel, but right now she'll grieve
She has no rhyme things are blurred and to a word she's averse
It's downtime, she'll wait late for her muse to return
Meantime the choice, to await her poetic voice, then weave
her words, at bedtime her muse appears, cheers, words now churn
-------------------------------------------------------------
There was a time when she would delight to write
Words won't chime her muse did choose to leave
Her prime concern, to learn when words will flow just right
What's worse, her mind can't find a verse
No need to disperse vowels in flight, right now she'll grieve
No rhymes to intersperse, word, blurred, and to write she's averse
It's downtime, she'll wait late for her muse to return
She'll choose, to await poetic voice, her choice, then weave
her words, no more blues, her muse appears, cheers, words now churn
the blood runs thin yet saturated with ideas
foreign and forgotten of home's idyllic nature
day's twinkle welcomed the white svelte blankets as
golden needles pierced deep through the fabric of her sky
the world's warm embrace held where happiness ebbed away
dragging and plodding until there was nothing left but
the last rain's cleansing nature
the world around was reborn
the rain washed my skin and soul
the blood that once ran iced thawed
the chambers broke free from rust
forever stained and broken
yet renewed and young
intersperse were the rays of gold beyond the
fields of fruition and hope
returning inside, dripping
i embrace absurdity
that was once my prison as
the once maddening stenches
run clean
Preponderance of dimensions perplexes with bliss string fervor
Lake mine previous
(stream of consciousness
imponderable) poetic efforts,
sans spiritus mundi, converse
sing a boot unfamiliar thread,
and ignored common
sense ne'er re: hearse
sing, asper William Butler Yeats,
aye went off deep end, perhaps
provoked at least une nurse
sis sear re: literary unlicensed violation,
and additionally one emphatic curse,
where mine poe whet
tick feet did immerse
for the methamphetamine time acid,
(I said to myself), why traverse
pointlessly imagining something worse
tread about, i.e. say...tripping
along head over heels, yet
nagging notion would not disperse
venturing blithely writing
plunging into terra incognita parallel
universe a "multiverse"
herewith also Ark
chew woolly Noah intent
for yours truly to drown while purse
sue wing abstract notion,
viz domain of science fiction,
never intermittently intersperse
sing following lines with "HELP, I need
somebody...", nor deliberately submerge
readers within a mini sea course
of confusion, but I feel confounded
gripped, lured...and will gladly reimburse,
should delving over my head diverse
if eyeing breadth, length, scope...
beyond realm of mom and pop verse
a tile theoretical physicists,
who casually identify ten dimensions
— eleven including time, nor averse
slithering thru worm holes
such more'n flight of fancy seems perverse,
whereat numberless whirled
wide webs presents obverse
to accepted paradigm reverse
sing scientific tenets describing
quarks, plus portal bellow much
room (See Alice in Wonderland) disperse
sing notions, where exodus
down the rabbit hole
into alternate self contained
separate cosmological infinitesimal channels
far more exciting than reality television!
Arm-in-arm unspoken is the message received; neither of us is looking to disperse;
Standing parallel, hands held laced, with a kiss to yours averse
I'll look for days at a loss for simple ways to remember each smile you intersperse;
Though our dinner is done, can we still be spoons who can also converse?
I hold your head, and we watch the sky fade to honey-red; day, please reverse!
Be damned the stars playing out the scene of all nights past rehearse
As city lights come on all around us, I'm lifted from a lifetime's blinding curse
On this terrace, while they sparkle in your eyes, you're showing me the universe
Lake previous poetic effort,
sans spiritus mundi, converse
sing a boot unfamiliar thread,
and ignored common
sense ne'er re: hearse
sing, asper William Butler Yeats,
aye went off deep end, perhaps
provoked at least une nurse
sis sear re: literary unlicensed violation,
and additionally one emphatic curse,
where mine poe whet
tick feet did immerse
for the methamphetamine time acid,
(I said to myself), why traverse
pointlessly imagining something worse
tread about, i.e. say...tripping
along head over heels, yet
nagging notion would not disperse
venturing blithely writing
plunging into terra incognita parallel
universe a "multiverse"
herewith also Ark
chew woolly Noah intent
for yours truly to drown while purse
sue wing abstract notion,
viz domain of science fiction,
never intermittently intersperse
sing following lines with "HELP, I need
somebody...", nor deliberately submerge
readers within a mini sea course
of confusion, but I feel confounded
gripped, lured...and will gladly reimburse,
should delving over my head diverse
if eyeing breadth, length, scope...
beyond realm of mom and pop verse
a tile theoretical physicists,
who casually identify ten dimensions
— eleven including time, nor averse
slithering thru worm holes
such more'n flight of fancy seems perverse,
whereat numberless whirled
wide webs presents obverse
to accepted paradigm reverse
sing scientific tenets describing
quarks, plus portal bellow much
room (See Alice in Wonderland) disperse
sing notions, where exodus
into alternate self contained
separate cosmological infinitesimal channels
far more exciting than reality television!