Long Intervene Poems
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I plan to provoke him, Uncle Jim said.
He did a great job too, really riled him up.
But it was no use, Frederick was totally trained.
I should know. I trained him myself.
I am up to the challenge, offered Grandpa Pete.
I did not intervene, amused as he called him names.
He picked up a stick so I shot it out of his hands with a cannon.
You always did overreact he said. He huffed into the house, mad.
My totally exasperating sister came out next to join the frivolities.
I waited until she got within a foot of Sir Frederick.
Sic Her! I screamed. Remembering all the times she had bullied me.
She was gone in seconds; just a fizzle left.
I guess that taught her not to tease a dragon
Or a sister
"It's half full
No it's half empty"
Bonding over something so bleak
Subtle insanity
"You're too idealistic"
"No it's you who's pessimistic"
"When did I fall for
Such a cute narcissist?"
"Watch and see
I'll soon make you choose
Between the world and me "
"That will be easy
If the world was burning
I would leave ourselves be
Maybe at the end
The flames will thaw your coldness
And let you be free"
But some choices can't be made
Because the people left a little too early
Fate had other plans
Maybe after all
The world was too afraid to see
What happens when
It is the union of wind and sea
Destiny had to intervene.
Chaos was avoided
For now, at least
It tore them apart
But didn't fix their broken hearts
It cut open their souls
Just so the world could remain whole
The two extremes
a slow moving breeze
And a tornado that screamed ...
"Don't enter"
"Please let me in"
"You're just temporary"
"No, I am here to be your permanent"
"When I die"
"Don't talk about that "
"Don't lock yourself away"
"You are going to stay "
"Just wait for me"
"You are not going away"
"In your better place"
"No I won't wait
Take me with you
To 'our' better place"
Pfuff, and it's done
Why do You have so much control?
What happens if you end up at the wrong end of a stick?
Would we be stuck there until You remove us?
Why You have that much power?
I don't think You should have power over anyone
It's just not right
I think people should make their own decisions
And only when they decide to let You make decisions for them
Then You intervene
But what do I know?
I only say what I observed and went through with You
You have the ultimate control anyway
Why do You have to prove?
I don't get it
And I will never get it
When do You ever get it?
Just kidding God
You can do whatever
Just don't put me at the wrong end of the stick, okay?
Solitary spaces for lost thoughts,
images betwixt that intervene,
found in iks, ends and even eens;
in between what may not have been
of this land we've often seen.
In innocence cross seas of sky,
pull pearls from pockets in the mind.
Search for the hidden reasons why
where wanton thoughts are left behind.
If one sits still too long and stares
and sinks deep down in icky ink
only slips, slides or swerves in verve -
but bumps into dark doublethink!
Some see how to turn on the lights,
points on star tips keep getting bright.
Watch wonders never seen before,
where there's no rule, wrong or right.
Try close listening, hear the ticks
crowded cricket strums from the sticks
of words that rhyme or songs to time.
Kindly look through one lone haiku
that tiny crack with views anew.
Rhyme 22 Lines 143 Words
(Dedicated to Christel Pilson)
When Covid came to town one day
It somehow chose to overstay
Now Christmas nears
With fears and tears
Isn’t it time to go away!
Old Santa Claus who I esteem
Has made his mind to intervene
Now on his sleigh
Without delay
Is on his way with a vaccine.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Santa's Covid Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire
Placed 2nd
© 8th December, 2020
The next Limerick is a bonus...not for the contest :)
Mixed Identity (Limerick)
Santa Claus had a parcel to dump
At the White House he stopped with a bump.
A dilemma he had
And it made him feel bad
Should he tag it to Biden or Trump?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
© 8th December 2020
The game it starts with the drop of a two
At 6PM sharp with the whole [CENSORED] crew.
The cards will be dealt in a random way,
But yet we all know by the end of the day,
We will all experience the same routine,
Peter shouts [CENSORED]
and Randy drops the queen.
Mike is a good-natured talker and sly.
He tells us of his plans and why,
But at just the right time, Randy queues Tom Waits;
Now Mike loses stride, and he’s in dire straits.
So, luckily this time, fate will intervene,
and Peter won’t shout [CENSORED]
as Randy drops the queen.
Peter's game is calculated and smart.
His intelligence is off the chart,
But corporations fund the other guys’ cards,
As his well-made plan falls into shards,
And now, we are all treated to the usual scene,
and Peter shouts [CENSORED]
as Randy drops the queen.
Dave’s sits quietly hope against hope,
But the fact quite simply is that he’s a dope.
He moans that he will lose yet one more game,
And once again he’ll hang his head in shame.
Yet, he hopes he’ll hear those words, obscene
as Peter shouts [CENSORED]
and Randy drops the queen.
Randy shrewdly plays each and every card.
We who have faced him, are we who are scarred.
He knows exactly what will happen.
Never does his attention slacken,
And then just like a well-oiled machine,
Peter shouts [CENSORED]
as Randy drops the queen.
They were prisoners
not of walls but of words
words of threats and alienation
walls none the less
But destiny would intervene
a chance encounter at a shop
eyes meeting in a fateful dance
unspoken thoughts exchanged
Notes were passed
through clandestine means
hidden from watchful eyes
little by little trysts ensued
At first with conversation
then, that kiss
the one that opened the prison gates
to a world unknown
Of freedom of the heart
hands began to meander
exploring the inner reaches
of parts unknown
He climbing past mountains of doubt
she guiding his hands
to her Garden of Eden
both searching in the shadow of darkness
Like unleashed primal beasts
theirs was a passion in a fertile land
breath taking and breathless
the planting of seeds
Would soon bear fruit
the chains that once held them
now kept them close
the escape complete
February 24, 2018
A movie that’s good pulls us out of ourselves;
For two or three hours, we’re set.
Away from our worries, our problems, our woes,
We’re able to block and forget.
The story and scenery serve to transport
As we sink into life on the screen.
Reality fades and our cell phones are off,
So nobody can intervene.
The characters’ lives, like a magnet, can pull
And we’re helplessly drawn to their world,
Where a range of emotions, so often kept tight,
May, in close-up, be boldly unfurled.
At the end of the film, when the credits scroll by
And the lights in the theater come on,
We must gather our things and return to our lives,
Kind of sad that our respite is gone.
Slavery is all over the world
The Filipinos are victims of slavery
We have been slaves by Spaniards
We have been slaves by Japanese
We have been slaves by Americans
Our government are fighting slavery
Poor people, we only have government
What if government is the one oppressing
What happen now, the left leaning
The yellow hardliners, the red loyalist
The Lower House, the Senate are united
In oppression, one in corruption, in united team
Oppressing the people, political persecution
Of Political enemies and peoples of faith
Politician have been blinded by money
Which money of the people, tax payers money
Mainstream media is now fostering fake news
The people are smelling silent dictatorship
The people are feeling silent Martial Law
Drugs, crimes and smuggling are proliferating
My country is going to be an anarchy
My country is going to the dogs
My country is going to the crocs
My people is in quandary right now
God, please intervene the affairs of my country, Philippines.
“It is too late to shut the stable door when the steed is stolen.”
~ From John Heywood’s A Dialogue Containing the Number in Effect of All the Proverbs in the English Tongue (1546)
“When the well’s dry, we know the worth of water.”
~ From Ben Franklin's Poor Richard's Almanac (1746)
My mission is to go back to eighteen-seventy-nine.
I’ve been authorized to repair history’s design.
Luckily, I’ve been trained on a Woody’s Time Machine,
and granted poetic license, fate to intervene.
I’ve set the dial to Braunau am Inn, near the border
of Bavaria and Austria. I must prevent disorder.
I’ll play with history’s chessboard, move a couple pawns,
and introduce Klara Polzl to a man named Franz.
Franz needed a housekeeper, and Klara fit the bill.
So, until pigs fly, which they never did and never will,
Klara wouldn’t work for Alois. They’d not have a son,
and the world would be spared what their young Adolf had done.