Long Lawn mower Poems
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They hit the road before the break of dawn kicking down doors rattling gates and slamming car doors. “The computer people a goh kill the woman ova there so, we a goh murder her!” threat come echoing from behind the wall saturating fear through the modern roof.
The commotion continues throughout the wee hours of the morning and the turbulence shows no sign of stopping, the shouts and the threat continues and when I could not bear to listen to it anymore; I took a walk out door to examine what was on the floor and the excitement speed off about seventy miles per hour up the road, and a woman’s voice shouted, “A mi alone in a the car now” It didn’t sound logical but I could analyze its meaning.
I continued my work in the early morning and the traffic keeps coming and going and suddenly I heard a screaming, the cops come rushing down the hill and parked on the other side of the street and a woman emerge from the car and descended into the yard.
Domestic violence it seems has derails someone’s dream and the little man with the taxi came rushing in was part of the bubble; there was going to be real trouble. He parked in front of the cop's head on and puts on the white light signal and pretends as if he was the boss
He went underneath the big apple three on the other side of the street and the domestic upheaval intensified. I watched from the side and listened for a while then I zoom them out. It is the nonsense mixing with common sense that didn’t make sense.
The brawl continues into broad-day light with the cops and the neighbors arguing about I don’t know what, the woman was issuing murder threat in front of the cops, and on the other side of the big church the lawn mower man was cutting grass and digging up earth drowning out the domestic confusion.
And so the morning faded away with the cops, the computer people and the PM people running around the town without shoes and crown, with the minstrel and the drums sounding behind them.
I could not hear them anymore even when I walked through the door; the morning suddenly became still and just the warm heat and slight breeze, I could feel blowing over my feet and the stage was set for a brand-new journey.
"Possums on the Run - Part 3"
Collecting cut
silver blue grass
carries garbage bags
green-ant bites, no siree,
this aint fun.
Stand guard, he’s the
lawn mower Pope
(she laughs)
on his ever vigilant run.
Look on him with sadness
Look on him with Love
“one less mouth to feed”,
she thinks,
“best to run run run”.
What could have been
lies under Palm, Pinaroo
buried under rain and Sun
never coming home…
He’s a roll your own man
sits on the back step
watching the setting sun
dark indigo shooting star sparkles
gecko changing colour on the wall
Fruit Bat squeals
hissing Bush Rat runs.
He’s thinking, “make
the lawn safer
ruddy trapdoor spiders,
poor piping hot water
down the holes
cover with dirt.
That’ll kill 'em,
stop the effers
before they bite ‘n hurt.”
Takes a sip of hot black Tea
gets up to iron the school shirts.
Sunday becomes Monday
becomes Tuesday bleeds
into remaining days
like Autumn leaves into
Winter trees bare barren branches
of each week, this is his life
these days his ever dwindling
seeds of memories.
What purpose day in day out
he is screaming on the inside
no where to voice it, no one to
share his Black Dog bouts.
“Make sure the table’s set for breakfast
and all the doors are locked girl,
before you turn the lights out”.
And you think,
“Is this all there is?”
You look through the windows
outside into the dark
along the fence
possums are running,
You think,
“Run Possums Run”.
Lynette, Linnet
a small bird, goddess, idol
ever golden burning Pheonix
on your shoulders
sings her fading song
“lovely child please,
never ever forget”
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
All 4 parts of "Possums on the Run" dedicated to an honourable man, an extremely courageous man, who served in both Royal Australian Army (first regiment into Vietnam) and Royal Australian Airforce, who lost his wife to cancer (32 yrs) and raised three girls on his own. This man was all about speaking his "TRUTH" and standing firm by what he believed in, my father V.C. (Peter) Burton.
1. T-Rex/Cosmic Dancer
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pw8BNPn6U
I Hate Home Depot!
I hate Home Depot!
Just the sight of that
orange and white sign
makes my stomach turn.
However I know every
square inch of that store,
I’ve spent
thousands of hours there
as a paying customer.
I know what all is in the
garden section for all of the seasons.
I know where to go to find the
nuts, screws, nails and bolts. I can guide you
through the wallpaper and
the paint section.
I’ve bought sheets of plywood, lots of pcv pipe,
dozens of American Standard toilets,
ceiling fans, light fixtures, HVAC systems,
generators, even a riding lawn mower.
I’ve bought paint and waited to have it
mixed properly. I’ve rented
and driven dozens of their trucks before.
I’ve bought power drills, leaf blowers
screwdrivers, hammers, cabinets,
patio furniture, a refrigerator, an oven,
and an air conditioner.
I’ve even rented a carpet cleaner too!
But I could care less, if I ever step foot
in a Home Depot ever again. All of my hours
clocked in that store went to the benefit
of my ex.
He was the one that financially,
emotionally and personally
gained from my presence in
Home Depot.
So what was the point of me acquiring
all of that knowledge that didn’t benefit
me at all then and probably won’t benefit
me ever again?
It seems like such as waste of my time
and energy now.
Believe me when I say
I would rather watch paint dry than
go to Home Depot, I mean ever word
of that statement!
One summer I practically read all of
War and Peace in the orange and
white store from Hell!
But I can show you how to repair a large hole
in a piece of sheetrock. I know how to
paint the inside and the outside of a house.
I know how to install travertine in a house,
slanted and straight.
I have installed granite countertops,
hardware for a sink and the basin too.
Many other home improvement projects
I learned there.
What a fool I was!
Oh well, that’s life.
Who knows maybe
someday I’ll use some
of that knowledge that I
hated every minute learning!
Two days ago, the curbside stack of trash was shaping up.
The maximum size of 4W x 8L x 4H was just about done.
About this time, a friendly homeless man suddenly showed up.
He walked toward me and said, "I just lost my apartment".
He said his name was Sky, and I thought, "How interesting".
I offered him food, called a Mercy Pact, that I keep in my car.
He was grateful, but noticed two lawn mowers out back.
Yes, he was a little challenged but of adequate intelligence.
He knew that I was cleaning out the trash, but not that I was moving.
He wanted to look at the lawn mowers. So, I allowed him to investigate.
I offered him the older smaller green mower that ran well, but his eyes
and heart were set on the larger red and newer one that needed a part
and did not run. He kept trying to make the red one run but to no avail.
I suggested the part it probably needed and gave it to him and put $7 in
his hand. With food, a warm blanket I also gave him, a lawn mower, and a few dollars, Sky then departed. He was very happy and said that I made his day. I tell you; Sky made my day.
Everything I did was an effort to demonstrate the love of God, to lead him
to the knowledge of Jesus Christ as his savior. With words yes, but words
accompanied by deeds.
Before he left, I informed Sky that 'our meeting was no accident but a Divine Appointment'. I encouraged Sky and prayed with him. Among other things, I remember praying that God would resurrect Sky to a new life and allow good things to happen to him. My last words to Sky? "God loves you".
010722PSCtest, A Strand (1047), Brian Strand
2nd contest entry: 081322, Your Second Chance 1ST Poetry Contest
Sotto Poet
Was sitting today
at my computer.
as greatly learning
from a tutor.
So much
fun on facebook.
quite time
in my little
computer nook.
I was commenting
with some
silly friends.
had to stop and wipe
my glasses lens.
I clicked
my mouse
again and again
gazed at that
dirty sereen.
It was displaying
slanted words but
ever so bright and
so keen.
Up popped
a link to
another sight
It viewed a huge
gray key.
old friends appeared
that had long ago
passed away that
I though left me.
There's my grandmaw
smiling on her profile
page.
She grinning big as if on
a theater stage.
Big bold
letters in
dark blue and white.
I nearly fell of
my chair in
a fright.
It said in giant letters
instead of FACEBOOK
It blazed bright blue of
PASTLOOKBOOK
Well I scratched
my head
as I thought they
all were past and
dead.
Clicked my mouse
and there he was
Dad photos fishing
with Uncle Ned.
This was such a shock
cause he died when
the lawn mower hit him
five years ago
in the head with a rock.
Well this was something
to see
Well I dropped
to pray on one knee.
If this is true
my scruples
I'd lost or thew.
Then I awoke
in my computer chair
with my messed up
gray shiney hair.
My pup licked my
hand.
FACEBOOK words
to see again a welcome
sight so grand.
So If you click your
mouse just one to many times
beware of a ghostly view,
Past friends and realatives
could be waiting to visit with you.
On PASTLOOKBOOK
that strange web site,
Boooooooo.
Linda Terrell
November 2009
My motto as an artist and poet
When CREATIVITY is the lock.
It is sometimes within as solid
as a rock.
IMAGINATION is the only key.
to unlock it ever so freely.
One with out the other,
one can go no further.
Summer Consumes Me
Summer your salty ocean breeze brings
the call of the wild out of me,
I hear the thunderous lion's roar and
swishing and screeching of the red butt monkeys
in the trees full of green leaves,
I hear the chorus of the chirping,
tweeting, cawing of the fastidious
bird's mating calls.
The swirling scent of the hot sun beaming
off my concrete jungle brings my mind
to a hazy state of mind,
as your lazy days unwind.
I smell the sweet lingering smell of
tropical coconut oil and chlorine
in the seat of my beach towel
covered leather seats,
as the beach boys croon to me
of California surfing days and
bikini clad girls.
The pungent, unpleasant smell of the
doggy doo that relentlessly clings to
my strappy sandal as I scrape it
against the rough asphalt of the
pool's parking lot.
The sweet tangy smell of barbecue
grilling on a charcoal grill
and the sounds of sizzle
coming from my
neighbor's backyard.
The crisp smell of green hot money
that a freshly folded
burning a hole in my pocket,
"saying spend me
go ahead just spend me!"
The aromatic smell of ripe red cherries
and succulent sweet watermelon swells
through the summer air and fuses with the
smell of the neighbor's fresh cut summer grass,
as the buzz and hum of his lawn mower wakes me up
too early in the morning.
The mixture of aromas from the gyros, corn dogs and cotton candy
as food vendors obnoxiously pitch their mouth watering temptations
from the crowded venue of our movies and concerts on the bricks
at centennial olympic park.
The sounds of my heart slowly drifting away
to breezy memories of steamy love from
summers of yesterday.
I smell the musty lust that pours from my head
as the power of summer consumes me.
Form:
The once magnificent garden had become a paradise of weeds towering high
Ragwort and dandelion shedding their seeds took over the lonely asylum
Rakes shears shovels and secateurs rested where Tim had left them to dwell
Mocking and taunting stinging nettles and thistles covered lost fallow ground
A pair of torn mouldy gloves saw out what remained from their glorious toil
Lawn mower broken leaking passion and oil onto a blunt brush cutter’s blade
The earth worms and termites were fine with it for they needed no help
Planks of wood assembled for building a den sheltered rotten remains as
Tim spread his sorrow in undergrowth of pain overwhelmed in sadness
Ants had a field day as they licked empty tears and traced a rancorous path
Birds feasted on ripe fruit sprung upon bees licking nectar and honey
Clouds shielded demise and even the milky way appeared rancid and foul
A single rose had survived scratchy and thorny in need of pruning and care
One prune dangled seductively as soon as Tim looked into a Fairy Queens’ smile
‘I am your soulmate in waiting’ and ignited like tinder he gave her the plum
‘My calls for a Prince willing to present me with yew have been answered’
As soul transferred onto soul they merged and smelled fragrance of musk
From either side of the rose bush they reached out and from where spikes
Inscribed scrapes and grooves into fragile parched minds handing out
Resurrection and union mingling with hurt blood scuffs and abrasions
Tattooed the message of faith hope and kindness in the shape of one heart
They still bear the scars and kept thistles and nettles as a soothing reminder
That true love survives suffering and surrender is sweeter when shared
09th June 2019
Who were they?
They walked to and from school when they were younger.
They had to complete their homework alone before they were allowed to go out and play.
They were given chores they were responsible to keep up with.
They were given money to go to the local store to buy simple things like milk, bread, eggs, and they returned with the change.
They collected empty bottles to take to the grocery store for 5 cents each.
They could be seen walking around the neighborhood with a lawn mower on summer days asking neighbors if the needed their lawn mowed.
They would have paper routes when old enough for extra cash to buy things.
They would play baseball with a plastic bat and a tennis ball on the street in between cars passing by.
They spent most of their time playing outside, but they were required to return home when the street lights would turn on.
They would sometimes be successful begging their parents to play hide and seek on a school night as long as they stayed close to home
They were resourceful in making things like rubber band guns, sling shots, wooden swords, and a makeshift bow and arrows to play or act out.
They were social and hung out together playing games or playing at the local park.
They were more likely to listen to the radio than to watch TV.
They enjoyed reading, collecting, and exchanging comic books.
They also collected and traded sports cards from those bubble gum packages.
They played board games and cards when the weather was bad at a neighbor’s house.
They knew the rules to playing Jacks.
They read books with a flashlight when they were supposed to be sleeping, usually a comic book.
They had parents that were present.
They fade away, never to return…
Edward J Ebbs - 11/06/2023
Ember nights in front of the fireplace have said their farewell to the dark
Spring comes into the gardener’s step and the rusty lawn mower smiles
Another season of field days ‘I hope he has changed the oil this winter’
Sweet scent of freedom lurks beyond dust of a forgotten shed’s sorrow
Sheds hibernation and wipes away long apathetic winter gloom’s rust
Under the cover of darkness last year’s seeds await another cycle of life
‘Order is order and my Prussian owner will recover acceptance from pride’
Green grass emerges from its slumber always more verdant one side or other
‘Take stock the engine roars’ and the germs have rooted and laid the ground
For weeds as they call them when they are simple indigenous survivors
A few dented leaves lush viridescent and then amber on steroids and stems
Yellow as far as the plot reaches and thickens chakra progression in reverse
‘When life gives you dandelion make salad and do not sharpen the blades’
Flowers are taking over the asylum give rise to ingenuity of the fittest realm
‘Imagine a lotus flower just changing foliage colour territorial provenance’
One man’s manic spread is another man’s growth and change of perspective
Like humans flowers and seeds cover the planet and stage hegemony’s claim
‘Go forth and multiply’ and the pretty little tribe conquers the Universe’
Vernon gives way to nature at its best and constructs a dandelion theme park
From seed to seed and his revised motto is germination instead of termination
‘If I interfere less with my self-righteousness a rosary will season in time’
15th April 2019
I was sittin' on the porch today reminiscin' about this and that,
And my hometown came to mind where I grew up as a feckless brat!
Life was lived at a slower pace it seemed, back in that place and time.
We didn't smoke grass but stealin' watermelons was a common crime!
The senior prom was held in the school gym and didn't cost a bunch.
There was no McDonalds so you had to eat at Marty's Diner for lunch.
Imagine! You danced cheek-to-cheek to a romantic Miller refrain,
And there were no computers - you actually had to use your brain!
The girls in your class were OK, but you preferred gals in that other town!
You raced about town in your Ford and with the cops became quite renown!
Guys kept shotguns in their jalopies to go rabbit huntin' right after school.
You took pleasure in datin' your pal's ex-girl friend, thinkin' you were so cool!
You could usually find who you were lookin' for at the dairy bar or pool hall.
You pushed a reel-type lawn mower when you'd rather be playin' basketball.
Everyone gathered downtown on Saturday nights for a movie or just to hang out.
Boys started drivin' their dad's John Deere tractor at age ten or thereabout.
If you walked somewhere, people would stop to see if you needed a ride.
Should you be the last kid chosen for a game, that really hurt your pride!
Boys wore 'butch' haircuts and girls sported ponytails and saddle shoes.
When I recall those carefree days I get a touch of the melancholy blues!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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