Long No nonsense Poems
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Above ,
sitting atop a crested hill
solitary , but nary lonely
Agemo is what he answer's too
but question is alway's on his mind
His twin , Ahpla , calls him a dreamer
Agemo has grown to expect this
considering Ahpla's domineering demeanor
alway's suggestive to take without quarter
not understanding his brother's nature
how Agemo recieves more satisfaction giving
being there for the rest of the pack
helping to create a pleasant atmosphere
Ahpla's role as a tough , no-nonsense
protector , can show no weakness
he love's his brother Agemo
but at time's detest his obvious softness
But the pair with it's conflicting opposites
has found a way to oversee
those dependent on their intelligence
stern at times , yet comforting
Right now though ,
Agemo continues to watch
the rise of the moon's daily journey
wondering what tomorrow will bring.....
Ahpla and his twin brother Agemo
are the proud protector's
of a land called " Laskrizon "
a lush mountainous valley
nestled northwest by southwest
in the western hemisphere
Hidden to most , known only to few
legend tell's it , that Laskrizon
is a famed combination , called so
considering it's the last lacrimal horizon
the final portal , the last vestibule
where Nature hope's , and other's wait
uncertainty weigh's heavy here
The pack are guardian's of a secret
holders , protector's of a treasured jewel
only knowing , a time will come
the unknowing stirs an unease
but the honor bestowed keeps steady
Alway's a watchful eye to the sky
never was told what to look for
they believe they'll know ,
when the time arrives
anxiously awaiting
fortitude a definite calling here
The jewel is a stone
more so , a rough corpus
a veiny mass ,
crystalized in time from space
some have called it a seed from heaven
in the land of the two-legged
it's been called many names
grail stone , philosophers stone
even the water stone of the wise
All the pack knows
is to protect at all cost's
lest it falls into dire grips
The stone's purpose is unknown
easily overlooked at first glance
closer inspection reveals it's uniqueness
only under the light of the sun
distinct golden specks and threads
glorious in it's smallness , yet
simulating a galaxy of stars
with the spiral wynd of veins
a frozen beauty...........
( to be continued....)
In May of seventeen seventy-nine
Henry Clinton was having a hard time,
so tired of the rebels still fighting,
had to somehow get Gorge Washington
out of the looming Hudson Highlands,
and then force the war to a final ending.
He marched his army to the north
meaning to shut down King’s Ferry,
threaten West Point and draw them out,
determined to up the ante,
no nonsense was he to bandy,
his men took Stony Point.
With the King’s Ferry now block and closed,
across the Hudson supplies couldn’t go,
Washington found himself in a hard place,
with a foothold beneath the Hudson Peaks
the British now could his main camps seek,
he could not let himself be displaced.
From atop a nearby mountain
he saw the British were building
abbatis and gun emplacements,
with scarlet the point was filling,
he knew that there’d soon be killing,
he would retake Stony Point.
But then the British made a mistake,
trying to set bait Washington would take,
sent Tyron to raid towards New Haven,
but Washington was not a damned fool,
he saw what they were trying to do,
and in the Hudson Highlands he remained.
Drew up a new plan of attack,
then Mad Anthony Wayne he called,
a general of temper and great skill,
they would see the British fort fall,
the garrison their troops would maul,
they would take Stony Point.
See when the British had fortified,
they had forgotten the river had tides,
and that a beach would soon be exposed.
It was a long shot, but one they would take,
if they could get behind the lines would break,
so only the best troops were picked to go.
No bullets would be in their guns,
stealth and steel would be their choice,
the only way they could be sure,
detection they had to avoid,
there really was no other choice
to penetrate Stony Point.
Wayne then split his forces into three
to face Britain’s seven hundred fifty
and sent Murfree to face the center,
his job was to raise hell and distract,
while to the north Butler’s troops would track,
from the south Wayne’s main force would enter.
At midnight they would all attack,
Under cover of the deep night,
white papers were stuck in their hats,
so they could see who not to fight,
bayonets set to stab and bite,
they marched for Stony Point...
CONCLUDES IN PART II
Jealous, Jealous, Jealous
The swiftness of the Vessa just killed me,
That speed and the grandeur of the seat,
The frame’s shine and the four wheels free,
The maroon leather upholstery neat.
The diagonal pattern on the seat and back,
Which made diamond shapes all over,
Reminded me of Pringles golf wear sack,
That sportsmen buy, their goods designer.
The prestige of owning one was immense,
A Vessa with thin black joystick, gray box,
Orange on/off button for your own sense,
To use wisely to be the batteries’ prox.
That privilege, that air that they all held,
Even made their severe disabilities trivial,
Counted them as people who so gelled,
With normality, the cool and the convivial.
I couldn’t walk at all well, sore feet often,
And in Primary Two asked of my physio,
That she give me in order to cheer, soften,
An electric wheelchair for my portfolio.
I wasn’t asking for a Vessa, not at all,
Just a Bec, ‘cos that could be anyone’s
They were blue, just for indoors, did stall,
And there were some just sat there, tuns.
My feet got sore and I was badly in pain,
Because mum insisted on Clarks shoes,
Old fashioned, hard, so I did complain,
Ås I saw trainers that would fit my toes,
My mum’s strict faith said no to sense,
No to love and yes to abuse, I’d loose,
So I explained to my physio, no nonsense,
That Christianity meant my pain, choose.
My mum thought trainers were worldly,
Demonic, non-Christian, rough and sinful,
But I didn’t know my credibility fully,
And so my physio said no more mouthful.
I knew it would’ve given me a life,
A mouth, a mode that could let me talk,
‘Cos I couldn’t talk and walk, my strife,
Together, simultaneously, talk and walk.
So at school I was always jealous,
Of those with a Vessa who got respect,
From every staff member zealous,
To enhance their freedom prospect.
I got my Vessa at university, shiney,
But I saw it rationally and with thought,
Understood something had blatantly,
Gone wrong, since it I’d only just bought.
But I appreciated my Vessa so much,
At Uni, no-one knew the status or fuss,
That’d been attached to it, not to touch,
At my special school, uh ha, for all of us.
I don’t want to talk about it
How you broke my virgin heart
How you trampled on me
Gave up on me in the middle
Of a dirty mess, a hopeless tunnel!
I don’t want to talk about it
How you embarrassed my innocence
When you left me for another.
Who are you? What are you?
A predator?
You pursued me, till you got your way in
You pleaded to have me
Till I gave it to you under the midnight rain.
Who gets pain out of pure love?
Who tolerates betrayal from commitment?
Bad things happen to good people
Does God feel for me
When you don’t give a damn?
I don’t want to talk about it
How you walked away from me
Held her by the waist and led her on
Left me stranded all by myself
Crushed to stupor, bitten to my bones!
I don’t want to talk about it
How you crushed and rode back to my premises
Crawling to my feet like a sinner
Desperate for a second chance;
Life is not a film!
Where did you grow up from? Who brought your up?
A manner less wind blows with you
An aura of disrespect and pride
You can’t always get what you want, life is not a fantasy
You are neither an angel nor his master.
When you pray to be forgiven,
How faithful are you, how willing to obey
The rules of nature, are you?
I don’t want to talk about it
How I unwrapped my box of wrath for you
Betrayal darkens the heart, you asked for this.
You wanted me, wanted me,
Why? Because she is a tigress, who tolerates no nonsense?
I don’t want to talk about it
I don’t play house, I don’t joke with my emotions!
I don’t want to talk about it
How I left you hanging like a falling Lucifer
Revenge is sweet, a fair game!
You wanted me back? But I wasn’t the one anymore
The one you knew is dead, remember, you ran over her,
When you chose to sneak out in the middle of the night
When you walked past her with her!
Chances are life, one exists
I don’t want to talk about it
How I felt relieved when I left like you did
I could never hold you again,
You killed what we had, set our house ablaze
For lust that stands by no one when the lion roars.
I don’t want to talk about it,
How we now leave on two islands apart!
Dissect is a no-nonsense word, meaning to cut up, to cut open, to examine in detail. My first recalled encounter with dissecting took place in my high school biology class where we dissected a frog. That was more than 50 years ago, and I suspect that frog dissecting is no longer allowed. But a reexamination( a dissecting) of The Declaration of Independence is providing me an even greater appreciation for the determination of our forefathers to be liberated and free at all cost.
Were I to fully dissect the Declaration of Independence there would be multiple parts of the examination. I will, therefore, be brief in exploring a few noteworthy aspects of the declaration.
In as much as their belief in equality was limited and selective, let it suffice to say that 'equality beliefs' was a work in progress. But there can be no denial, history revisionists notwithstanding, that they were firm in their beliefs about Truth, Creator, Supreme Judge, God-Entitlements, and Divine Endowments.
243 years ago, thirteen colonies represented by 54 men declared their independence from Great Britain, the most powerful nation on earth. They had very little military power but were energized with purpose and unity. Clearly, the weapons of their warfare were not carnal but mighty through God. They were neither fearless nor fools but very courageous.
They had no illusions of grandeur nor delusions of haloes, but their cause was just, their pursuit was righteous, and their reliance and dependency were upon The Supreme Judge of the world. With a trusting heart full of steam, never impeded by things they did not comprehend, impelled by a cause,
and pushing forward full speed ahead, they were 'all in'. There was no doubt about their commitment as expressed in their own words in the last sentence, "And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor".
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Let me be clear with no fear
an atigent of disagreement of any future tense pretense configuration that needlessly resends a sociomatic sick sentiment catalyst unbeknowingest clause to a comma, plagued prism contentious albeit forlorned, bilateral, incompetent un pleasured coexistant so inter de pendent unglorious unprofounded skeletal unborn neutral nimnul copesetic cantrell unconscious, nebulous, candid, corrupt, pissed, rancid begulied diligent procrastinative encarnate afoot that mean melds a quantitave ugly compliance reticient of the never unability that gives us a knowing intelligence that we r all knowing? Not so so as we r as stupid as we think we r not in an alterium of a never universe of platcum rememberences sequated in a knom neverence x, ed out in u shoulda known better u idiomoron. catapult me and my mi8ind in the now pretenenserence of my own social stupidity as I believe waght id direb fbty in fgront off mer as I choooooooooooooose to bebe an nu ignginant dickk too thate whatr fills my hallf bbrain stipulance of knownn alfabetikal crimppted vocabb. yea bab by 19844 all overe a gain. Byive ask me my own speckle speech so we can diederive a nonnoun abeyance to thswt which is of a no nonsense cadence beligerent to anti intelligence co axial speak. kill me as i coincide a pop prenatural bloodhold so as not to forbid a dandilion coincidental catagory that leadlends itself unto a miserable mind meld obtuse **** analogy heretofored f150. Can I be friend myself all over again given my suffering and pain from all of those who were to love and care let me die in my absent sorrow or is there someone out there that is of my own ilk that can offer a kernal of composite hope before I cut mysellf to a fluid end? Do I even have the right to assk of another person to delve into my crap and give a rats ass???? Is there enough love to run the gamit, to render yrself oneself uncompliant for a moment to staiate another human, with altruism to get them by and expect nothing in return, as we all believe in the KARMA that is a final, unrequited reward for good and love. Be it all ye may and give all.
That old faucet leaks.
Done so for many a year.
I let it drip in that bowl,
birds; chipmunks; squirrel and other
critters come here for a drink.
This here tree out front?
Wife and I planted it. Yep.
Day we moved in here.
I wanted a Saguaro.
Mave wanted a good shade tree.
Inside…watch yer step,
that old board needs fixin',
I’ll show you the rooms.
This here was Mave’s favorite room.
She picked out those curtains there.
That’s my chair right there.
Come into the kitchen,
take a look around.
Mave put up many a jar
of jelly. Best in the state.
Now up these stairs,
are the bed rooms. This one’s Joe’s.
He was our oldest. Gone now.
Broke his mothers heart it did.
He died in the war. A hero.
This room was Katie’s.
Her and my Mave painted it.
Don’t care much for pink.
But Katie had her heart set.
But, I guess you could repaint.
This little room here,
Mave turned into a sewin’ room.
Her own little hide away.
Said I got the barn, so she
needed her own little space.
This was Mave’s and mine.
Now it’s just me. It’s too big.
I sleep on the couch.
Fall asleep with the TV.,
Mave hated when I did that.
Well, you’ve seen the house.
Told you what I could 'bout it.
If these walls could talk.
You’d get an earful that’s sure.
They’d likely never shut up.
Me and Mave were here
fifty two years till she died.
Then just me ten more.
Raised our two young’uns right here.
Ain’t got no grankids as yet.
Now, you two young folk,
take yer time and think ’bout it.
Don’t want to rush this.
It will still be here for ya,
when you two make up yer mind,
Got my memories.
First house is the most ‘portant.
How you get on here,
sets up the rest of your life,
to make your own memories.
This poem was inspired by one of our local, crusty,
old cowpoke, desert characters. He spoke straight
from the hip, with no nonsense or frills.
I sure wish we could have bought that old
homestead.
Entered in the contest "What's Your Pleasure"
Hosted by Carol Brown
Placement : 3rd
Dependable Defender Jésus Christ of Nazareth Football Club
This morning lost His appeal for the red card He received
During His side game with the highly rated Pharisees
He’ll be unavailable for their match against the Sadducees
He was sent off by no-nonsense referee Pontius Pilate
For defeating a host of Principalities and Powers
The Club failed to have the decision overturned by the Jurisdiction
He will therefore be sentenced to death by crucifixion
The ‘Special One’ is to make no comment on the decision
After Herod Disciplinary Committee dismissed the club’s appeal
Jésus offered Himself as a *Sacrificial Lamb* for a collective guilt
On the football club’s recent sloppiness and wilt
The Stalwart Defender's Penalty
Will begin with a physical torture
Followed by carrying a heavy rugged cross
Is the Disciplinary Committee right? Make your gloss
GLOSSES FOR JESUS LOSES RED CARD APPEAL :
Tony Taylor writes, March 28th…2:17
A typical King Herod Decision!
I think the decision needs a
Gary Neville writes, March 28th….2:19
Watching Jésus on the field is immensely enjoyable
This Rock from Nazareth is just unconquerable
Rashford writes, March 28th….3:15
Corrupt official! Corrupt leader
All they care is 30 pieces of silver
Major Buckley writes, March 28th…3:17
HE CAN’T GO AWAY WITH IT!
CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM! I submit
Nana Ama writes, March 28th…..4:17
The decision by ref Pontius Pilate was very harsh
Jésus triumphed! And He did it with great panache
Wolf writes, March 28th….5:15
The blame must lay with Judas and McCoy
Surely it’s their fault not Jésus. Sorry boy!
Omar writes,March 28th….. 6:17
You’re an idiot’s wolf!
This Jesus should go play golf!
Crucify Him sir! Crucify Him! I rest my case
Jonathan Reid writes, March 28th…7:17
I personally think Herod can’t rescind the red card
We talking football politics. He didn't tackle too hard
Leave your gloss in the box below
Today I met a woman of one hundred and one years
All her faculties in full cooperation
And while hypnotized by her discernment
What in hindsight was most likely a fleeting thought
Is now a conceivable notion
A true encounter with the aging
Is one rarely forgotten
Consider this exchange the cliff notes to a world education
Free of charge
She speaks direct
Her thoughts, fluent and uninhibited
Every message delivered in concise no nonsense tones
There is nothing to be confused or misconstrued
Truth trumps all in the era from which she hails
She speaks only of what is known from experience
And the passion in her recollection tells me there is nothing embellished
Her wisdom is astounding
Never has a one way conversation seemed so riveting
But I cling to her every word
As though my life hangs in the balance
Awe stricken by her penetrating delivery
She is a well traveled almanac
A complimentary set of unopened encyclopedias
She has bore witness to things I have only studied in text
Indeed she wears her years on her face
Her walk is a slow and deliberate pace
She may even force you to put on hold your impatience
Due to brittle bones or any number of other ailments she may own
Any number of things unforeseen that one day find us all
And with hair that’s as gray and firm as steel wool
Do not see her for a fool
Because while fools may chatter
The wise will surmise,
Such rare constitutions greatly matter
And they are vital to the evolution of us all
They are too often shunned
Frequently preyed upon
Relished as choice game for the swindlers
But let us never forget
Let us always remember
These crucial ties must never be severed
To access these vaults you need only pull the lever
And there you shall find what takes little to no time
To discover what is truly the most splendid hidden treasure
Copyright©2013 by Daryl R. Gaines. All rights reserved
Grenadilla
It's a story about
a family of musicians
they lived a life where
they wished the world
to think of them as believers
and no-nonsense individuals.
It was said that Poppa
had 16 children with
two woman
all we know is that
this woman he'd married had 11
of his children and only the
third to last of them
was questionable as to who the father was
all who knew the Poppa said that he was the Father but
a memeber of the Womans family claimed they
had seperated and were dating outside of the relationship.
They went to the KitKat Club in the big city you see,
there they saw " The Mitty Duchess Show" with
Frizzy Mussay and the Grumpty Seven Singers
we they talked about the show for y4ears
always saying they'd like to go back.
They alway talked about music.
We the children were the same loving music and theather.
They wanted musicail instruments ; but
the father refused to buy them.
Saying that these things before him
were evil. Music is to consider a gift
but the foolishness of people
allows us to think anthing "live"
is evil.
He was really a mean man, he liked and loved
his family but loved the attention
he received from talking about his family to
people who were unmarried or in bad situations.
He was cursed and nearly beaten when he bought the subject up at the bar.
The guy told him to shut the $u@K -up and buy those knappy headed good-for-nothings
the dam44 instruments.
The Poopa called the man a punky F4gg$t saying he wasn't man enough to get a woman and he was to stupid to get a man. That did it the fist got balled up and people had to seprate them. That night he told his wife he'd need to go
to the campgrounds to get a job with the circus in order to have the funds to barley afford used and bashed up instruments.