Long On it Poems
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by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015
I have a lovely quilt, that my wife stitched for me
she said ‘twill keep your legs warm, while you’re watching TV
don’t know how old she thinks I am, I’m only seventy three
but she said “it will be good for you, especially your sore knee”
She made me a cushion too, so comfy I would be
I think she has the notion I just sit and watch TV
it has a chess motif on it, cause I like chess you see
a Castle and a King, they could be just the key
I use the cushion every day, to play chess, and watch TV
but I don’t use the quilt much, it gets too hot for me
so on the back of the chair, that’s where it will be
and will stay there till I need it, maybe when I’m ninety three
So, visit I will
Form Haibun: Comprising of prose followed by Haiku
I was driving a conversion van, pulling a trailer with a smaller Suzuki X90 car on it. I was heading to California. This would be another change in my life. Although, I couldn’t get through the Rocky Mountains pulling that much weight. Thankfully, a friend had taken the ride with me and could drive the little car. I remember the most brilliant sunset across the desert when the blue sky was peeking through the fiery orange colors and looked like lakes in the distance, looking at it just right. I also remember the rainbow that crossed over the sky, too. I made it to California safely, for the second brief time that I lived there. But, I learned something in all this.
It is not for me
To live, but only visit
So visit, I will
7/25/17
Rubber slips on the road ahead,
It’s a dream I had while asleep in bed.
The sound of those screeching tyres.
Just 17 and ill prepared for such a car.
Far to fast for my skills, left with a scar.
The sound of those screeching tyres.
Skidding side to side with no control,
then hitting the kerb, I started to roll.
The sound of those screeching tyres.
Laying lifeless on the side of the road,
still the ability to think my car may explode.
The sound of those screeching tyres.
Waking a week later in a place unknown
To find I have more than one broken bone.
Still, the sound of those screeching tyres.
Thirteen years on it still strikes a nerve
Listening to a car when it has to swerve
…..the resounding sound of those screeching tyres.
ON AUGUST 21ST 2017
I FOUND MYSELF STANDING
IN THE STREETS OF
WEISER IDAHO. U.S.A.
WITNESSING THE PHENOMENON
OF A SOLAR ECLIPSE.
A MOMENT IN TIME
I WILL ALWAYS TREASURE.
FOR THREE MINUTES
THE MOON BLOCKED OUT
THE SUN.
DARKNESS FELL ACROSS
THE LAND. THE TEMPERATURE
DROPPED ROUGHLY FIFTEEN
DEGREES.
I WAS CONSUMED BY
THIS PHENOMENON AS I
ABSORBED THE BEAUTY
OF PEACE AND TRANQUILITY.
AT THAT MOMENT,
WHEN THE MOON BLOCKED
OUT THE SUN. NATURE
EXEMPLIFIED IT'S WISDOM
AND KNOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE.
I NOTICED THE BIRDS
STOPPED CHIRPING AND
BEES STOPPED BUZZING
AND THE CRICKETS BEGAN
TO CHIRP.
IT WAS TRULY AN AMAZING
MOMENT IN TIME. A RELAXED,
PEACEFUL AND HYPNOTIC
FEELING. IT WAS A MAGICAL
EXPERIENCE. THERE WAS AN
INSTANCE OF TIME BETWEEN
THE BIRDS CHIRPING STOPPING
AND THE CRICKETS CHIRPING
BEGINNING. IT WAS LESS THAN
ONE SECOND AND STILL A LIFE TIME.
I FOUND IT TO BE AND CONSIDER IT A
PROFOUND MOMENT IN MY LIFE.
THE INSTANT THE MOON
GAVE WAY TO THE SUNS
BRILLIANCE ANOTHER
PHENOMENON OCCURRED.
THE SUNS RAYS LIT UP
OUR SURROUNDINGS AND
WARMED THE AIR. THE
CRICKETS STOPPED CHIRPING
AND THE BIRDS REJOICED
THROUGH SONG. ANOTHER
PROFOUND MOMENT OF PEACE.
EVEN THOUGHT IT WAS ONLY
AN INSTANT.
EXPERIENCING THAT MOMENT
WITH FAMILY, FRIENDS AND
LOVED ONES IS PRICELESS
AND FOREVER BOUNDS US TOGETHER.
REFLECTING BACK ON THOSE
PROFOUND MOMENTS AND
INSTANCES IN LIFE , I
REALIZED ALL THOUGHTS IN
MY MIND HAD BEEN SET ASIDE
AND CLEARED ALLOWING ME
TO EXPERIENCE THE BEAUTY OF
PEACE ON EARTH VIA THE
SOLAR ECLIPSE.
I HAVE COME TO THE CONCLUSION.
WORLD PEACE OR PEACE ON
EARTH IS POSSIBLE.
IF EVERY PERSON ON EARTH,
EVERY MAN WOMAN AND CHILD.
AT THE VERY SAME TIME,
TOOK FIVE MINUTES TO CLEAR
THEIR MINDS OF ALL THOUGHTS.
THE EARTH AND WORLD AND
EVERYONE ON IT WOULD
EXPERIENCE THE BEAUTY OF
PEACE AND THE PHENOMENON
OF LOVE AND BEING.
Michael E.Harris
01292022
~Taxidermist~
Dear little blue bird sitting on the mat
Please don’t poop on it because it isn’t tat.
That’s it, sit on the bird bath there on the rim
You look a fine little chap sitting there so trim.
I am a taxidermist and I am after a blue tit
Why don’t you jump on my hand so I can see, and you can have a little sit?
My collection lacks a bird; we could perhaps make a date
It’s a pity you are alone I could do with your little mate
You would fill the place nicely it’s a pity you are not red
But I can soon paint you up as I am a taxidermist- I think I said.
no offense to real taxidermists out there I know you do not do this xx
Competition Entry: For Catie Lindsey comp: Word Games.
© 1/06/2012 ~GG~
the end is not so close
but I'm still drowning
in all ponds of Mars
guilty and filthy
and walk down the alley
of sombre solstice
swearing at walls
after the heist gone wrong
now the everlasting
ambulance siren
echoes through
the tumbledown lands
through sullen skies
through every selfish mind
dancing at the balcony
without a handrail
is better than the eternal
junkyard romance
but time travel dreams
keep me awake
and asleep at the same time
drill time! pill time!
crucify your social image
even earthquake is more fun
talk to yourself
break window panes
but never buy a mirror
rather take it from the junkyard
and engrave your name on it
'cause someone has to
notice or break it
She picked up the pen and smiled at his name.
He was more alive now in some ways than he had been
When he was alive.
The frayed tablecloth was a reminder of his mother.
She had loved her also, because she was the woman
who had raised him.
The pen had his motto “live your best life”.
She loved this reminder
of the man she had loved most of her life.
She wrote fast and hard;
the words came for two hours.
Their love story. It was two a.m.
She flipped off his pretty green desk lamp
and laid her head down on one of his books.
It still had a bit of Old Spice on it.
Written 7-9-2020
Contest: The Old Scribe
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Look,
I’d have to have a moment to
Get my bearings and
Bear down on it and
Bear with me, please
A thought is a comet when the thought
Is a thought about you
And I cannot stop it
It flies through my room when I’m
Gripping my bedsheet and I’m
Breathing uneven
Thinking of you knowing
Thinking of you thinking
I cannot have it
Have you watching from the
Corner of your eye as I
Sit just by the side and
Look,
Your arms stretch
And your legs
Stretch and your voice
Stretches when it carries my name
It warps into a shape
Time stops for me and I
Keep sitting there
I am just there
You’re two steps away and I’m
Begging for you to
Look,
Look at me while I’m on my knees
Pleading to a God I do not
Know the name of or
Know the prayer to
I just pray for the way
Your fingers move and your eyes
Roam across the room but then
They’re in laser focus
I need your focus
I need to bring my best to you
So I can hold it
You watch me like I could hold it
You judge me like
You want me to
And it won’t sting if
It’s too harsh and
Bruises my ego
And it won’t sting if it means
That you will
Look,
Laid solid with words
the writers stone
A fortress was columned
my only real home
The poetry was safe there
it stammered and tried
As my feelings unbridled
from the outsiders lies
Each year added layers
to this home of the verse
My thoughts never silenced
or my feelings there terse
All that’s needed to go there
…unfettered belief
All that’s needed to know
is that time is the thief
My vision unshaken
from this chair with two wheels
The advice from the experts
“to wither and yield”
But my place more than sacred
an invincible throne
Independent of body
times seed to unsow
And the moment before
I take my last breath
I will enter forever
where before I had left
The trumpets will sound
as immortality calls
To that space then my refuge
the sum of it all
As the memories unreason
the facts storm again
But the tents of my solitude
keep out their wind
For generations that follow
and their children that ask
This place I now dwell in
for all hard and fast
Just believe in its message
and its fortune to change
Just believe in transcendence
with all things the same
Until the day that that final
trumpet may blow
And all that you’ve loved
is all there’s to know
Your message then solid
as the door opens wide
And those moments you’ve gifted
to the heavens arrive
And the joy that you feel
thinking back on it all
From that place deep inside
—where first destiny called
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Next to triple burger with extra cheese and sauce sits a pink diet pill.
This pill guarantees you can eat all you want and still lose weight.
It cost me a mere twenty-six dollars and fifty-two cents.
There is a pamphlet on it that is six pages long.
It has small print. I have no desire to read it.
I reach for the triple burger and my child reaches for the pink pill!
Leave that alone! I screech, snatching it out of his hand.
How dare he!
What did the pamphlet say? My husband asks.
Not sure, I tell him as I gulp the pill down with milk.
“Never take this pill with milk,” my child reads.
And this my friends is why you do not want your child to read.