Long Old maid Poems
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Entertainment in My Youth
By Franklin Price
revised and reformatted to poetic prose
(an experiment for me)
5/28/2017
Entertainment came quite easy, I could do it for myself. The public library had lots of books, they stored them on the shelf. I could check them out, and from them, could travel anywhere. See the world through reading and never leave my chair.
I could go outside and eat an orange, or I could ride my bike. A safer place it was back then; could go anywhere I liked. Could go across the river, a week-end show to see, a dime spent on a Saturday was admission there for me. Cartoons and several serials; Flash Gordon comes to mind. Still in downtown Cocoa, the building you will find. Movies shown no longer, plays are there for you to go. The State Theater still entertains; so go enjoy the show.
After the show was over, to Goulds old store we went. Such a magic place for kids, some allowance there we spent. Had military equipment and special things galore. If we had been the least bit rich, we may have bought the entire store.
If we were lucky, when we left, to cross to the Island side, the draw bridge would be opening and the tender let us ride. We stood in the middle as the bridge swung half around, blocking the cars, passing the boats to far off places bound.
At night we had a radio; no TV 'til fifty-three. We would gather close and listen to special programs there for me: The Shadow knew, Lone Ranger too, fights on Friday night. The music of the Grand Old Opry made listening just right. We played some games both board and card; the donkey's tail did pin. I was the youngest, not as smart, sometimes they let me win: Monopoly, Checkers, Old Maid, and cards of War. The table's space was not enough so we played them on the floor.
If we needed money there was a jelly factory near. The product made from guavas; the need for them was clear. The trees grew wild, or maybe not ,with buckets we would go; fill them up and take them to the factory for some dough.
Much more entertainment I could tell you without fail. Some things we did there, in the past, may now get days in jail. So I think I'll stop for now and let you imagine all the rest. My childhood life was more than good, it was the very best.
THIS POVERTY OF MINE...
Improves upon the amount of time it takes you to conduct an opera that
tells about how to live this life.
Moralistic conceptions are fulfillments of healthy appetites.
An Aesop Fable he or she will write.
***
RAPUNZEL
Rapunzel Rapunzel let your hair down.
I am the new Prince in town.
I killed the lad you loved today.
Rapunzel let your hair down and be my lady.
I come from far away to be your Prince.
I know your mother locked you away to become an old maid.
I am here to give you a life of matrimony, love and affection, children, a
family.
Rapunzel, let your hair down.
I will woo you with flowers to ingratiate.
We are meant to be together eternally.
Rapunzel, be my lady.
***
Rise above iniquity and address this perilous world
Domestic violence, conflict, and confusion are illuminated throughout the
universe.
Why is this constant struggle and strife?
Live right!
***
SHARMAR - THE KING
This is a man’s world.
This is a woman’s universe.
She is the child bearer.
I have become the villain.
I am an abuser.
She is in love.
I will use her not to face [my] troubles.
Conflict will confuse all.
I work hard in any endeavor.
The future is there to proclaim.
A woman’s place is behind her man.
See Coretta with King.
Strength she gave.
She empowered her man.
You saw her sadness and her gleam.
You see Betty with X.
Empowerment she was and the ultimate strength.
You saw her beam as a scholar.
Her walk fulfills that power.
Much light from pain diminishes weakness.
Might it be moralistic?
***
To destroy is to bring new life.
If one is without the other, why?
***
A woman’s hair is her glory.
What does that statement mean?
The manner of principality states age brings glory.
Therefore, the subject of these philosophies thrives.
A woman’s life is magnified 100xs by her life-story.
Move not my soul, if it is not closer to the Almighty God.
If my soul is no closer to the Lord Almighty, I shall not be moved.
________________________________________|
PENNED ON JULY 20, 2014!
Chelle knew she was too old to get married
or even meet a man now
She was living at home, working as a bookkeeper for her dad.
She would be doing this until she died, she imagined.
An old maid, she said. Who would have guessed it?
Chelle is twenty-seven years old, totally long in the tooth.
It is 1967; she lives in a small hick town in middle earth,
Bible belt, USA.
There are no unmarried boys now.
People stay married until they die.
Eighteen-year-olds who graduated two days ago are all getting married this weekend.
Chelle has resigned herself to the fact that it is just her,
Mom, Dad, and the Elvis, their dog.
Her path as a spinster is clear.
She will die reading a romance novel,
dreaming of what might have been and what never-will-be.
Her mother will have none of this feeling sorry for yourself nonsense; she thinks Chelle has a good life.
They love her don't they?
She drags a reluctant Chelle to the church parsonage
to help paint it. A new family is coming.
The family arrives early. Except it is not a family.
It is a young Reverend, fresh from divinity college.
He is twenty-eight, ready to settle down and preach from his heart. He notices Chelle right away.
She is standing on a ladder that starts to slip, and she has gorgeous legs. He races to help.
Steadies the ladder with a firm grip.
She turns to thank her mother. But it is not her mother.
His smile nearly makes her fall on her petootie.
It is someone new. Someone handsome and young.
A handsome man of twenty-eight -her new Reverend.
“My name is Reverend Jim,” he tells her.
She can barely speak, blushing. He has gorgeous brown eyes.
“I'm Chelle,” she says. “Thank you for saving me.”
That night she thanked God for being so good.
At last, instilling a little hope that there might be a chance
to not live the life of a spinster.
I am happy to report they saved each other.
Written 5-19-2019
Contest: The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
A musical throng of 400,000 strong invaded a dairy farm in New York in 1969,
which set fire to the 70’s; but there was no chance of me being there;
I was a good girl, 17 years young; sheltered, not knowing about the real world.
Working in a grocery store 28 hours a week, while
attending my senior year of high school, in my home town of Chariton, Iowa.
There were gang-inspired movies of sheer horror and terror out about this time.
I did not see any except Billy Jack, and the Glory Stompers.
Both traumatized me so hard, I am still terrified of them.
I was making macramé planters, Modge Podge boxes, and latch hook rugs if I could
Get the money; the boxes were expensive.
Some people were pretend hippies, wearing long hair. I grew my hair long
For my yearbook photo, but then was sad because it had looked lots better short.
By 1971, I was married, after being forced to view myself as an old maid
By my peers who had all wed a month out of high school.
I was wearing a large, black, bushy afro, and thought of myself as liberated.
Not even close, honey, the Equal Rights Amendment did not even pass.
By ’74 I had two babies; I remember getting a flat tummy after
childbirth and being insanely unhappy that the new style was maternity-looking tops.
Who made THAT decision?
I was still wearing the hip-hugging bell bottom pants now, but without the wide belt.
Mary Tyler Moore was on TV, shocking everyone with disbelief that a single woman could
Make it on her own, without man, or marriage.
“My Three Sons” and “The Brady Bunch” had been startling pushed out of the way by “All in the Family.”
I had never known the word ‘bigot before’, I’m not sure I ever wanted to.
By ’79 I had my third baby, was living in a large house in Des Moines, Iowa, and was a Girl Scout Troop Leader.
Toys of Yesteryear
Some of you have seen these.
Simple, beautiful toys.
Played on the living room carpet.
Sometimes on our knees.
Some right on an oil clothed
kitchen table.
No hang ups about the sexuality
of girls and boys.
In those days, we were all
considered equal and able.
This is prior to Priscilla PC and
Sammy SMART,
When parents did not call the
SWAT team when you dared
play with a dart!
There where wooden Chinese
checkers, oh,how UN-PC!
Try Russian nestling dolls.
Surely, designed by Oligarchs,
To overthrow the next
presidency!
How about a pair of Scottie dog
magnets, one black, one white?
Reverend Al and Jesse would
declare them a national blight!
Maybe a pair of balsa wood gliders?
Oh, no! Not those.
They'd be instructing us to be war
mongers.
Old Maid Card game, well how
about that?
No way, women's' liberation will
have none of that.
Funny, we never went around
hurting or shooting each other.
We actually read books and
respected each other as sisters
and brothers.
You don't need me to tell you
the vicious video games kids
play today.
The saddest part is, if it's
computerized, it's automatically
O.K.
The children don't realize they
are brainwashed into an AI
nation.
We adults need to see their
games have some human coordination.
The children see us stuck to devices
day and night.
Our pasty white faces, must
give them a fright.
Hardly a "Silent Night!"
Nobody in the house talking!
Each glued to a screen.
To many, this is just awesome.
For me, this loss in humanity,
is beyond anything, I have ever
seen!
November 27, 2019
~~Merry Christmas~~
** no category for toys. This is about toys.
Anticipating the rebirth of nature
onto the fields, I walked the other day
hoping to marvel at the outburst of beauty.
On my way,
unexpectedly, Spring I met herself just passing by
very surprised I was indeed
when
to my dismay, I noticed that her sparkling
vitality had gone. She looked like an old maid!
No longer was she beauty's incarnation-
her face was grim, the light in her eyes dim
and her lips tight were because of much pain
thus just sadness, desolation, and melancholy
remained.
Saddened
by Spring's deplorable appearance,
cautiously I approached her and as
politely as I could, asked in this way:
"Oh ethereal spring
whose beauty is admired by the Gods and
by all mortals alike
may I ask you why in this condition
do I you find?
Spring
in desperation looked at me and after
pausing for a while, these words managed
to utter with a sigh:
"I am mourning the death of my mortal friends
who so anxiously have been waiting for my coming
but
now that I am here they, unfortunately, cannot
witness my blooming!"
Thus replied Spring and paused for a moment.
It was then
that I detected on her lips a faint smile as
her eyes turned towards the sky,
whispering these words at the same time:
" Rest in peace, my beloved friends,
for although you have missed my arrival,
I promise to each of you a flower to grow,
a flower, to keep you company
in
the eternal spring of paradise!"
© Demetrios Trifiatis
30 March 2020
*Dedicated to all our brothers and sisters who have lost the battle
against COVID-19 and to all those who are still fighting this horrible disease!
WITH GOD'S HELP, WE SHALL PREVAIL!
VIGNETTE FORM an example
In the base motor pool
See an off-limits card school-
A scheming Bilko takes the pot
Hoodwinking top brass was his game,
Fast talking his claim to fame.
Vignette=a 5 line light verse that tells a short story some further examples as below
VIGNETTE-ALL OF A ZITHER
Across Vienna's old town
In a sewer underground,
They tracked down..Harry LIme,
A Third Man in a crime-
To music so sublime.
VIGNETTE -ON THE BEACH
Prone,lying side by side
Lapped by an ebbing tide,
Together upon passion's ride-
In love's embrace enlocked
This watershed,no longer shocks.
ADELAIDE CRAPSEY-IMAGIST
A well travelled lass named Adelaide
Innovative and never staid,
Unmarried,single but no old maid-
A short life,latterly full of pain,
Her epitaph,the American cinquain.
Tribute vignette to Adelaide Crapsey,the American creator of the Cinquain form
VIGNETTE- STRINGS & HARPS
A vaporetto upon the sea
A love departs that could never be-
Tears trickle down face,
Mahler played at his slowest pace,
Langsum,adagietto-slow.
Scene from Death in Venice
A EULOGY-VIGNETTE
William,lived and died in Perth
Buried now in Scottish turf-
Diarist,poet extraodinaire
I do declare...lived a life of pain
Yet..lasting fame lies in his cinquain
tribute to my favourite Scottish poet -William Soutar note
my book of over 100 of his cinquains FLOWERS OF LIFE (isbn 1 903203 473)@ 25$ remains available to buy
Vignette-FILLED WITH THE SPIRIT
Immersed in the Jordan,flowing fast
In readiness for an awesome task
The Spirit descended like a dove
This man here is my beloved-
He still baptises from above
Full story at Math 3:16/17
In the base motor pool
See an off-limits card school-
A scheming Bilko takes the pot
Hoodwinking top brass was his game,
Fast talking his claim to fame.
VIGNETTE-ALL OF A ZITHER
Across Vienna's old town
In a sewer underground,
They tracked down..Harry LIme,
A Third Man in a crime-
To music so sublime.
VIGNETTE -ON THE BEACH
Prone,lying side by side
Lapped by an ebbing tide,
Together upon passion's ride-
In love's embrace enlocked
This watershed,no longer shocks.
ADELAIDE CRAPSEY-IMAGIST
A well travelled lass named Adelaide
Innovative and never staid,
Unmarried,single but no old maid-
A short life,latterly full of pain,
Her epitaph,the American cinquain.
Tribute vignette to Adelaide Crapsey,the American creator of the Cinquain form
VIGNETTE- STRINGS & HARPS
A vaporetto upon the sea
A love departs that could never be-
Tears trickle down face,
Mahler played at his slowest pace,
Langsum,adagietto-slow.
Scene from Death in Venice
A EULOGY-VIGNETTE
William,lived and died in Perth
Buried now in Scottish turf-
Diarist,poet extraodinaire
I do declare...lived a life of pain
Yet..lasting fame lies in his cinquain
tribute to my favourite Scottish poet -William Soutar note
my book of over 100 of his cinquains FLOWERS OF LIFE (isbn 1 903203 473)@ 25$ remains available to buy
Vignette-FILLED WITH THE SPIRIT
Immersed in the Jordan,flowing fast
In readiness for an awesome task
The Spirit descended like a dove
This man here is my beloved-
He still baptises from above
Full story at Math 3:16/17
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted
I REMEMBER SMOKEY
Once when I was just a kid,
My sister eight years older,
My sister's boyfriend came to call,
As we were playing soldier.
Stationed in the jungle we,
Cut off from our troop.
Surrounded by the enemy,
We must escape, regroup.
To do this we must make a stand,
Take out that lone guard.
A local girl distracted him,
So we could hit him, hard.
My sister led him to the porch,
To kiss her friend good night,
Not suspecting they were watched,
Or what we planned that night.
They stood before the porch steps,
In young love's sweet embrace,
I'm sure the neighbors heard his scream,
You should have seen her face.
We snuck up very slowly,
They never heard a sound,
They thought that they were all alone,
With no one else around.
The timing perfect as we leaped,
I yelled to him,"ATTACK!"
And Smokey did as he was told,
He ran straight up his back.
The young boy screamed, jumped off the porch,
And made tracks for his car.
My sister cried to Mama,
"He'll prob'ly have a scar!"
The young boy swore that he was bit,
Felt teeth in his behind.
I grinned and said,"But not the cat,
The teeth he felt were mine."
Mama laughed so hard at that,
That we did not get punished.
My sister went into her room,
Her reputation tarnished.
She felt no boy would date her now,
She had a rabid sister,
Who hung out with a feral cat,
No one could resist her.
So cute and sweet, she had it all,
You'd think she had it made;
But with me no one would call,
She'd die as an old maid.
Judy Ball
The new maid, Jo, walked out onto the deck,
Seeing the reclined form of Eric Dvorak.
He stretched out in the sun,
oblivious to everyone,
then leapt up quick, stiffness in his back.
Eric then stared up at a high window,
way up on the second floor did his gaze go.
Anger made his face a cloud,
he roared it all out loud,
screaming,”Cheating *****! I’ll lay you low!”
He tore up the mansion at a sprint,
she followed quickly when he did.
She didn’t see what Eric saw,
but she knew something was wrong.
When she caught up she was out of wind.
Eric stood in the door, onlooking,
anyone could see the fury in him cooking,
He cried,”I’ll show you both!”
Then into the room did go,
the maid walked up and she saw nothing...
Eric waited in the middle of a bedroom.
The rage was gone, but he wasn’t looking good.
From his face to his veins,
he was a pulsing mass of pain.
He slumped against the bed’s old hardwood.
Now the old maid Ellie came up near them,
and said to her,”Leave him alone now, friend.
None of this seems quite right,
But I’ll explain to you outside.”
So they went down to the backyard fence.
They settled in the shade near the fig,
and Ellie took a bit to puff an e-cig.
She turned and said to her,
“I trust you not to say a word.
Or the outside world will come and start to dig.”
Ellie looked nervous, but then continued on,
“Eric once has a wife he doted upon.
But once while sitting outside,
he saw two shadows in a window high,
and rushed upstairs, fearing something wrong....
CONCLUDES IN PART II.