Long On a roll Poems
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Nothing in my life has ever been anything like this.
When I started my company it was nothing but bliss.
I invented a company called “The Edit Centre”
Back in ’86, I was quite the inventor.
The business model was to transfer movie film and edit videos
So family memories would last forever, don’t you know.
From the day business opened we on a roll
People came from far and wide, it soothed my soul.
From $30,000 we grossed the very first year,
To 60 then 90, I had no fear.
I bought $1000’s and $1000’s of video toys,
The public loved it, so they could enjoy.
The growth in the business lasted about 13 years.
We peaked at $427,000.00, I still had no fear.
Slowly but slowly, things began to erode.
I knew not what the future would bode.
So I did what many major companies have done
I fired employees, sent them on the run.
I ended up doing more of the work on my own
And in 2006 I made more money than I’d ever known.
My accountant was pleased, said I finally learned how to make money.
Even though I was grossing far less, I was making a tonny.
The bank told me my house had great value, have this wad of cash.
So I began to remodel, was having a blast.
So I borrowed a quarter million to fix up the place
Created a palace, the times seemed to be great.
I was paying $3000.00 a month on the equity line.
Felt what I was doing was not out of line.
Then came 2007, well before the economy collapsed.
Sales dropped $75,000, what kind of relapse?
What was I doing that was so wrong?
I began living in a world I didn’t belong.
Technology was beginning to alter my life.
The market I owned was cut like a knife.
Fewer and fewer needed the services I provided.
Since 2008, I’ve been highly misguided.
But I was stubborn, said this couldn’t continue.
Took all of my savings to save the only thing I knew.
Owned a beautiful building on a main thoroughfare.
Spent every dime to save it, I didn’t care.
But business continued to get worse and worse
I vowed to survive, could I be cursed?
I remodeled the building and opened an art gallery
Thinking with no inventory costs, I might make a salary.
Of course my gallery couldn’t have been more mistimed.
Who in 2009 had the reason to spend another dime.
The upside was that the building had a facelift.
And I was able to sell it, that was a gift.
Tears Of A Champion
It is out there on the internet, one can easily come by it..
A spirited display of championship squash, this was it..
The Queen of squash, Nicol David, recently dethroned...
Going up against Laura Massaro, the squash queen from England..
There has been many hard fought battles between these two..
But for the last 9 years or so, all world class rivals are kept at bay..
A phenemonal record of dominance in this modern gladiatorial sport..
Occassionly there was a stumble or two, but Nicol made sure her spot..
So, here again these two established queens of squash, they clashed...
It is the long awaited final event, Nicol against Laura, in a glass court event..
Laura had just won US Open title last month, she was on a roll...
Here in Hong Kong Open, it is another final on the trot, the trophy beckons..
But being 8 times world champion and 9 times world number one..
Nicol David was focused and all afire, speed, power and precision are one...
As she contained all the shotmaking prowess of Laura, and she was more...
For she is a duracell bunny to her very core, tirelessly piling on the scores...
When the final rally point was played and scored, Nicol was victorous...
As she shook Laura's hand, she was all smiles and ever so gracious...
As was the norm, there was a short segment of live interview ..
Then it happened, the floodgates of emotions gave way to tears......
Shedding away tears of self doubt and frustrations....
When a little slide in ranking brought out many naysayers...
What was hurtful most were those comments about her age...
Despite her stranglehold of 108 months on the world stage..
Nicol rightly deserves a better appreciation of a lion hearted champion...
Look at Gregory Gaultier at 33, finally world champion from his 5th final..
Hey people! Look at Nick Matthew at 35, he's is top 10 still...
So welcome back, Datuk Nicol, the years you've had are there still..
So happily she shed a few tears, there are many more almighty roars...
Let women squash world sit up and watch each time again you roar...
Go and get 'em, Nicol David, squash queen from Malaysia only....
Que sera sera...whatever will be, will be, such is your destiny...
That Vow, To Yet Again Walk Forested Trails
In forest deep, wondrous gems lay hidden
yet lay he there, in great pain bedridden.
Through his window he could see forest edge
hopes he had, soon became a solemn pledge.
Some day, some sweet day he would again walk
visit that forested world, with Nature talk.
Stroll among gnarled trees, roots firmly planted
vow he made, to never be recanted.
Each day he would wiggle that his big toe
sure little by little feeling would grow.
One year and he achieved use of both feet
proud of all that work done under bed-sheet.
Six months more, he could feel up to his knee
he watched that forest cheer its helpful plea.
Winter came and he could sit up in bed
sadness gone, cobwebs were cleared from his head.
Spring flew in and to kitchen he could stroll
man was he happy, he was on a roll.
June saw his first joyful step on outside
his heart filling with rapture and deep pride.
By Summer's end, he threw away his cane
with determined voice swore that oath again.
As gold leaves fell, date was set for his trek
he vowed to never look back at his wreck.
This time of year his car had struck a tree
bed confined, he thought to never be free.
That dawn came, into the forest he ran
God gave blessed hope in his Nature plan.
Walking in deep, gems everywhere he saw
all about critter tracks with little paws.
Overhead, songbirds fluttered all about
sweet bird-songs came like water from a spout.
Now in tune with life, forest vow complete
he walked home, on those new dancing feet!
R.J. Lindley
November 25th, 1979
Note. This poem was written about the car wreck and later the amazing recovery
my friend had, and the vow he made, after looking out that window and thinking of me out in the woods hunting as I once did so often.
He being a Nature lover same as I and so very at home in the woods.
We once hunted together and had great times, but life sent us down separate and far distant paths.
Now I hear from friends that he is in a bad way and has not much more time left on this earth.
Today, I searched old boxes in storage, until I found this old poem to present.
Hope you may enjoy...
Edited today only to make a uniform syllable count....
Stillness feels deep here in these halls;
Silent vistas offer relief;
Death brings sure sleep at curtain call;
Cold agendas in grief's sad brief.
Long passageways and rows and rows;
Lonely sailings to unknown shores;
The dead don't say what yonder grows;
We the living wish we knew more.
Our visit here to greet the dead,
To pray for souls to rest in peace;
Let kinship steer fate's sure parade;
We feel the hold, the dead at ease.
Each niche a tale of life now flown;
Each face once walked this earthly plain;
Now silence trails lost bygone moans;
Now stillness talks where no voice gains.
Memorial day for our lost kin;
A prayer fond, a mindset still;
Whispers now stay for peace within;
Stroll by this lawn, mourning hearts feel.
With soul and heart, talk to the dead;
We know they hear our inner voice;
Life circle parts beyond all dread;
Cycles endear sound grace and poise.
Brief tablets speak where words now fail;
Deeply attuned with wise intent,
Each mounts a peak beyond the veil:
Feel hint and tune frame lost content.
As shadows fall in the last light,
We take a stroll here first and last;
Live sweet and gall with new-found sight;
Life's on a roll in feast or fast.
The dead remind that life goes on;
The grim reaper awaits each soul;
Discern the find here and beyond;
Soon each sleeper will circle whole.
Sunlight now fails, winds of change blow;
Horizons pale, lost of sure breath;
Death's icy gale fills each hollow;
And thus soul sails to greet kind death!
Here by this route where hallways meet,
All thoughts and deeds return to rest;
Death is time-out for two-way street;
Each cycle seeds soul journey quest.
We take our time to simply dwell,
Observe and know time here is brief;
Heed love's fond chimes to live life well;
Then candle blows with joy not grief.
Now once again, we carry on
To weather all, to live our best
With poise laid plain, feel once upon
A time that call to feel love's quest.
Our prayers laid, our kinship made,
We take our leave in heartfelt calm;
Feel love repaid in succinct trade;
Forsake this grief with cheery psalm.
Leon Enriquez
28 Mar 2014
Singapore
(Dedication: For my late mother on her birthday
anniversary, born 28 March 1927.)
Football brought shivers to folks in Three Rivers,
With slivers of Fall in the air,
And the crowd was excited but not so delighted,
By weather more cloudy than fair.
A player named Paul was the hottest of all,
And he played for a team that was great,
He played for a team and the sake of a dream,
To be known as the best in the State.
The Bulldogs were bruisers more often than losers,
And Paul's game was proving his worth,
He was better each year with a dad who was clear,
That his son was the finest on earth.
The Dogs meant to squash all the boys from Mud Wash,
A team that was zero and nine,
But all of their scorn was like buckets of corn,
To the Hogs who refused to be swine.
The Mudhogs, in fact, were not willing to act,
Like a team that was tepid and weak,
For the rain and the mud were the life and the blood,
Of the Hogs when they played at their peak.
With pride on the line and a reason to shine,
All the Mudhogs were ready at last,
But the half-time arrived and the Hogs that survived,
Were dismayed by the two-quarters past.
The Bulldogs who led by just three points ahead,
Were convinced that the Mudhogs were done,
But the Hogs made it clear they had nothing to fear,
From a team that was ranked number one.
For the Mudhogs to win they would have to begin,
To disprove what the Bulldogs had said,
So they fought with a strength that was better at length,
By the way they came back from the dead.
The fourth quarter came and the score was to blame,
When the fans said the game was a dud,
But a storm cloud appeared and the Mudhogs were cheered,
By the downpour of rain and the mud.
The Bulldogs were floored by the Hogs when they scored,
And the latter were leading by four,
But the Bulldogs were glad by the weather they had,
When the darkness turned sunny once more.
The game's final call was decided by Paul,
On a play that was fourth down and goal,
And he knew they would win by the size of his grin,
And the play of a team on a roll.
The fans of the team were already to scream,
With a second or two left to score,
But the boy and his pass were reduced by the grass,
That was fed by a Hog to a bore.
Football brought shivers to folks in Three Rivers
With slivers of Fall in the air
And the crowd was excited but not so delighted
By weather more cloudy than fair
A player named Paul was the proudest of all
And he played for a team that was great
Yes he played for a team and the sake of a dream
To be known as the best in the State
The Bulldogs were bruisers more often than losers
And Paul's game was proving his worth
He was better each year with a dad who was clear
That his son was the finest on Earth
They were planning to squash all the boys from Mud Wash
A team that was zero and nine
But all of their scorn was like buckets of corn
To the 'Hogs who refused to be swine
The Mudhogs, in fact, we're not willing to act
Like a team that is tepid and weak
For the rain and the mud were the life and the blood
Of the boys when they played at their peak
With pride on the line and a reason to shine
All the Mudhogs were ready at last
But the half-time arrived and the 'Hogs that survived
Were dismayed by the two-quarters past
Now the Bulldogs who led by just three points ahead
Were convinced that the Mudhogs were done
But the ‘Hogs made it clear they had nothing to fear
From a team that was ranked number one
For the MudHogs to win they would have to begin
To disprove what the Bulldogs had said
So they fought with a strength that was better at length
By the way they came back from the dead
The fourth quarter came and the score was to blame
When the fans said the game was a dud
But a storm cloud appeared and the Mudhogs were cheered
By the downpour of rain and the mud
The Bulldogs were floored by the 'Hogs when they scored
And the latter were leading by four
But the Bulldogs were glad by the weather they had
When the grey sky turned sunny once more
Well the call went to Paul who was sure of it all
On a play that was first down and goal
And he knew they would win by the size of his grin
And the play of a team on a roll
The fans and their team were so ready to scream
With a second or two left to score
But Paul and his pass were reduced by the grass
That was fed by a 'Hog to a bore.
Living above ground in invisible coffins condemned to a 6 foot box
COVID stripped us of keys to our freedom holding us captive with no way to pick the locks
Welcome to a zombie apocalypse are dizzy thoughts twirling in my tired head
Halloween is everyday all year as we walk amongst the living dead
I'm on a roll spiraling out of control with a fire lit deep in my soul
I want a hug and it's taking its toll, I want to give one back but these words are the only thing I can offer to console
We all thrive off affection, Want a connection
Uh oh here comes health inspection
Got to force rejection, Out of fear of infection
Need a change of direction
Do I hear an objection?
Stuck at the intersection, Time for a resurrection
Got us on our knees these pins and needles of subjection
Doctor please help whole world needs...
Injection of affection
Wrongful conviction of innocence
I'm a big fan of consistence
Lord knows I admire your persistence
Please forgive my hesitant insistence
Don't be disheartened by my resistance
I'll keep reaching for you through any distance
We all thrive off affection, Want a connection
Uh oh here comes health inspection
Got to force rejection, Out of fear of infection
Need a change of direction
Do I hear an objection?
Stuck at the intersection, Time for a resurrection
Got us on our knees these pins and needles of subjection
Doctor please help whole world needs...
Injection of affection
Everything is bursting and tearing at the seams
Now is the time to plant seeds of dreams
Cast away all of our sorrow
Together we can hope for a better tomorrow
Love is greatest gift one could ever obtain
Without love it's difficult to keep from going insane and life's difficult to sustain and maintain
We all thrive off affection, Want a connection
Uh oh here comes health inspection
Got to force rejection, Out of fear of infection
Need a change of direction
Do I hear an objection?
Stuck at the intersection, Time for a resurrection
Got us on our knees these pins and needles of subjection
Doctor please help whole world needs...
Injection of affection
In this write my spirit stands.' To curse satans war on all
Humans.' For the move in taking babes from mothers breasts.' To g m crops and toxic weed killrs all drawn from
A loathsome war chest.' Used to weaken bones and skin
And immunity.' Along with flouride waste added in; so we see' the demonic involvd in some 'rock and pop' the push on
Masculine positive traits, is part of the rot.' The almost now
Obligatory programming.? I feel to drive women to beleive
That a slot in commerce they must fill.' Its by talk of glass
Ceilings.' And we should see through.' With a ittle savvy i'd
Say its needed ' for this life in 'complete overkill' I watch
The women at football.? And boxing weightlifting too?? Oh
And then theres the craze 'among many' of getting heavily tattoed.? Some claim its addictive.' ( to women and men) For me I like bare skin
Which I guess could be said is 'a nod to sin? Well I'll
Admit i'm not perfect.? Yet what about geting old? Who will
Know what is the pattern.' When the flesh hangs in folds??
Yet back to 'just the masculine' and its attraction to women
For I think thats really why they are 'into tough competitions?' Well to me its quite he opposite.' They should be doing.' Its not their niche.. Or strength per-se.??
Men really value comley women.' Maybe a few must fetch
And hew.' If that can't be avoided.' To make ends meet? yet
In honest speak 'its better well avoided' yet times the test
And influencers flow is now really part and parcel.' Where
Evil bland.?? Even banal is planned.' Sorted and disported
To me its thick and oversick cotorted; over the top. Along with processed food and processed 'news?' Wow and there is
More to go.' The more i think? In some n g o's And consider all thats out there.!! Operated by trolls; hyped and on a roll of debt and
Public money.' All i hear is war.' Its an eyesight sore and
Plays each night to morning ' yet here I curse each one of
Those' who push all of such garbage.' All child abuse all drug abuse..Deepest hell is your fate.' Where you will never
See another morning.!
I could tell Nan’s getting bored with her knitting and crochet,
and her interest has been waning with the C-W-A.
To think the help I offered had become a huge regret -
I introduced my Nan to games played on the Internet.
On Sunday arvo’s we would visit Nan for scones and tea,
but later on she’s telling us to go to buggery.
Her doors are always locked and she’s thrown away the key,
so when peeping through a window, this is what I see.
CHORUS:
Bouncing numbers; flashing lights and Nan is on a roll,
as her fingers tap the keyboard - she’s completely lost control.
She argues with her laptop when she’s lost another round -
and God help all our family if the Internet goes down.
Nan’s made some subtle changes in the cottage that is hers.
Within reach of her laptop is now where her life occurs.
There’s a coffee urn beside her - ‘no-doze’ keeping her awake.
She curses Mother Nature when she needs a toilet break.
There’s debt collectors chasing Nan, but they too draw a blank,
even though she has got close to a million in the bank,
‘cause Nan won’t leave her laptop; she too afraid to lose.
I wish to God she’d get a virus or at least take up the booze.
CHORUS:
Bouncing numbers; flashing lights and Nan is on a roll,
as her fingers tap the keyboard - she’s completely lost control.
She argues with her laptop when she’s lost another round -
and God help all our family if the Internet goes down.
It took some time to cure Nan with intense therapy.
There’s no more computer games; it’s a family victory,
but Nan still locked her doors, and had her curtains drawn -
and peeping through a curtain STRUTH! - NAN’S ADDICTION TURNED TO ****.
BRIDGE:
I’ve had a talk to Nan over MY hot scones and tea.
I think computer games are best - and Nan did agree.
CHORUS:
Bouncing numbers; flashing lights and Nan is on a roll,
as her fingers tap the keyboard - she’s completely lost control.
She argues with her laptop when she’s lost another round -
and God help all our family if the Internet goes down.
We live our lives as the sun goes up and down
Most days they end with a frown
It’s a shame the hand life deals at times
Putting my head down knowing it’s the end
Because I still can’t believe you did what you did
And now I have lost a friend
You deceived me at my own life and I was sure you were going to attend
The path you took is more than words can describe
But lately you have just had a negative vibe
What changed you
Who changed you
Why must you be so untrue
What is said and done can be forgiven
But you’ve been behind the wheel for awhile now and the car is still being driven
Let go of the damn wheel and step out the car
Because your actions are just too bizarre
If this continues I won’t even be able to say hi to you from afar
So for now ill stare up in the sky and watch the evening star
Damn it hurts how you lied
It hurts how you betrayed me
It hurts how you left me hanging
It hurts how you talked crap
Damn you on a roll and you just won’t quit
I filled out all my papers all I got to do is press submit
I stood up for you when you were standing alone
Did you forget that I am the one who always gave you that loan
Now you’re trying to be something your not and act grown
It’s a shame because I have never thrown a single stone
I can’t believe that this has happened I should have known
Maybe its time to finally hang up this phone
Life with you has been great but wasting minute’s means ill still have to pay
I am sorry this is not an all you can eat all you can say buffet
I let you get too comfortable in this thing called life
Next thing I knew you had picked up a knife
Looking at you knowing you weren’t the same
Starting to turn my back on you
Praying you would take a hint or get a clue
And see what u were becoming was far from true
You stabbed me in the back
Then in the heart
Laying their blood coming from my body not knowing what to do
I start to count to three: one two…
I black out, I am sorry I can’t do this I am through
© Jeremy Fennell