Long Once again Poems
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'Tis once again that glorious season with its gentle showers,
Blossoming trees, emerald lawns and a myriad of showy flowers!
But with Spring also comes a most unwelcome scourge.
Alas, hosts of pesky dandelions upon my lawn emerge!
From nearby lawns, subtle zephyrs deposited fluffy spawn,
Later to spring forth in yellow array upon my pristine lawn!
I've sprayed, prayed and taken the Lord's name in vain.
Those odius "dents de lion" certainly are my bane!
I'm told dandelions have some redeeming qualities,
And are considered by some to be delectable delicacies,
Feasting upon this vexing nemesis, blooms, roots and all!
I 'fess up! My mission is their propagation to forestall!
With those yellow blooms abroad upon my lawn so rife,
I reckon I just don't appreciate the finer things in life,
Like dandelion fritters, dandelion wine or dandelion greens.
Thanks all the same - I prefer meat, taters and butter beans!
Those little pests upon my lawn would be a lot less dense,
If only the neighbors would keep 'em on their side of the fence!
Let other folks cultivate and consume their dandelion crop;
But for me, I'll just continue to cuss, spray, shovel and chop!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Dearest Aunt Shirley and Uncle DeVoe,
Merry Christmas to you both, steadfast lights upon my horizon.
The year turns once again, and with it, we are reminded of life's tides—how they ebb and flow like the great ocean meeting the steadfast sea.
These waters, like faith, remain constant yet ever-changing, carrying with them the gifts of second and third chances, as infinite as their depths.
This season, I have thought often of roots—trees and bushes holding fast to earth, even as their green leaves tremble in winter winds.
Family and friends are such roots to me.
They anchor us, even when we stretch toward dreams like branches reaching skyward.
From them, we grow, and in growing, we learn: people can change for the better.
Time, though fleeting, is generous in its offering of forgiveness, compassion, and love.
Aging brings a sharp clarity, doesn't it?
Stubbornness to, like streams that cut through rock to reveal the measure of a woman or a man.
What I have seen in life, in others, and in myself, whispers that we are all capable of kindness, empathy, and moral strength.
Though time grows short, its fleeting nature gives each moment more weight.
We must hold close those who matter and speak of love while we can.
I think, too, of you: the faith you've shown, the quiet courage that binds you to each other.
I am of you, yet apart, shaped by the love you've poured into this your family. There is no greater gift.
Let us forgive what is past and walk toward what is to come, with arms open wide as puppies greet the day—with hope, trust, and boundless joy.
Merry Christmas, dear hearts.
You have always remained my harbor.
With all my love,
I am by blood bound to you, I am your nephew,
James
you ...
were there, of-a-sudden ...
standing beside me
after nearly three tens of years -
right beside me
like no time had passed
as if broken hearts, new lovers and
children, and a river's tears had
not flowed downstream ...
as if those fading cares and
choleric words had never poisoned
the air between us ...
as if time hadn't weathered
our hearts, or a
million I love you's drowned in a
sea of unwelcome change ...
you were beside me once again
and it felt so good
so wonderfully ... NORMAL
we began talking, in
the very comfortable, easy way
we always had - our gaze
dancing eyes-to-lips-to-eyes
as they used to, and
before any conscious thought
had settled in my mind
I found myself longing for what I
realized (at once) I had
missed so dearly -
your kiss ...
and though you now, after
half a lifetime of separation and
unknown consequence, stood
close enough for me
to catch the divine fragrance of your
hair, and but a bend-at-the-waist
away from tasting the
mouth that I had lost my
senses in so many times, the lips
that had whispered my name
so dreamily in countless number -
sexy secrets that only I
could understand ...
though you were near enough
for me to see my
reflection in the burnt umber
wonder of your eyes ...
you may as well have been
on the moon ...
for you were now the
one thing that would keep me
forever from your embrace -
the one thing that doomed me to
a life of lonely regret ...
another's.
sun through window
birds in bushes sing
their melody pierces the air
an old song played on You tube
I played it for you
you misunderstood
its hidden meanings
a first line of a poem
on a scrap of paper
at the edge of the table
a drink I savor
for a moment
the sun hides
for a moment
sky veiled by clouds
leaves of burnt orange
dance in a gust of wind
they live for another day
before they learn
to let go
my ears ring
whispers of nothingness
I sit alone
once again
the sun shines again
in all its brilliance
to light the world
in every fallen leaf
a seed
in every seed
a dream
a bird flies
past my window
Chorus
So many bites have made my heart indigent
so many burns have made my taste lost
I see your displays, I cherish the efforts
time is a luxury I beg of you to afford
give me this gift to get to know you more.
1. A lion with promiscuous abilities
and nothing mind numbling about
his irresistible showcase
to become an indignation in the lips of many.
My indifference is no reason for an outburst
cos hey! I still don’t really know you.
Chorus
So many bites have made my heart indigent
so many burns have made my taste lost
I see your displays, I cherish the efforts
time is a luxury I beg of you to afford
give me this gift to get to know you more.
2. You insist to be an unnecessary vinaigrette
when my life is already appetizing.
You willingly showed me your downfalls
and your success stories
of expelling life’s expectorates,
all to add a rouge to my radiance.
No hurry boy! You’ve trawled,
so give me time to know you.
Chorus
So many bites have made my heart indigent
so many burns have made my taste lost
I see your displays, I cherish the efforts
time is a luxury I beg of you to afford
give me this gift to get to know you more.
3. I’m sober to the brewery of your affection
and to your charm, I am a free born.
Your energy packed efforts
embolden my mind to tame the heart.
A warm handshake
does not get an embrace in a lickety-split.
Don’t expect my compromise straight away
b’cos I still don’t know you.
Chorus
So many bites have made my heart indigent
so many burns have made my taste lost
I see your displays, I cherish the efforts
time is a luxury I beg of you to afford
give me this gift to get to know you more.
4. A sexy eye can be weaponized
each of its blink can shoot selfish bullets
an inviting heart may be hospitable
so I don’t want to ride
an expensive Jalopy once again.
You’re sweet and nice
but I won’t fall for a lickspittle
thus, allow me get to know you more.
Chorus x 2 [Normal key] x 2 [higher key]
So many bites have made my heart indigent
so many burns have made my taste lost
I see your displays, I cherish the efforts
time is a luxury I beg of you to afford
give me this gift to get to know you more.
Well here he is
Here’s that boy again
I remember him
Creamy honey skin
And as I sit here
Watching strangers go by
Hearing a voice once known
So long ago
My heart skips a beat
And my memory unwinds
I remember the smile
As he turns for a while
A flicker but no
It was so long a go
And then once again
Yes he’s coming this way
No words can be spoken
Tears fall
Our emotions awoken
You were always to calm
Never worried or proud
Let’s walk somewhere now
Away from this crowd
I was always there
Maybe too often
Did you ever care
Were you ever aware
Of how much I did
And now you say
You must be on your way
That you don’t ever look back
But I see it in your face
And I feel it in your embrace
That it mattered a lot
Maybe times have moved on
But our memories have not
Through the keyhole darkly,
he could now remember his name
Through the keyhole darkly,
his medicine kicked in once again
Through the keyhole darkly,
he knew his daughter by her face
Through the keyhole darkly,
he was now back home in his space
Through the keyhole darkly,
his dog was closely by his side
Through the keyhole darkly,
his eyes though saddened, opened wide
Through the keyhole darkly,
her voice unwrapped a precious gift
Through the keyhole darkly
a love once anchored, set adrift
Through the keyhole darkly,
he felt the light begin to dim
Through the keyhole darkly
his markers fade, his reference thin
Through the keyhole darkly
the killer thief arrives once more
Through the keyhole darkly
all loss of self—a closing door
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)
As I sit here on this guardrail,
on this first day of the year where
a jacket is not what you need to keep you warm,
watching the same breeze that breathes
across my cheek and whispers into my ear
stir the waters before my eyes;
as I hear the soft, ephemeral guitar and heartfelt voice
of music for the spirit,
I give the world a simple, true smile,
and ponder this concept we dub happiness.
It's not something one should search for,
despite what you may hear;
stop seeking serenity.
It scampers to and fro, out of our fumbling reach,
like a squirrel or rabbit darting speedily away -
and like those, if a capture is ever managed,
you won't know what to do with the prize.
There is no way to guarantee its arrival at your door,
no way to ensure you'll ever find it at all;
but the chances can be increased.
Ironically, my answer is to do nothing,
nothing regarding it, whatsoever;
live your life, how and why you choose -
leave happiness to its own fey games,
and maybe, one day,
there it will be.
In the dream you've toiled at,
finally close to realization;
in the friendships you've nurtured,
bearing harmony beyond your former knowledge -
there it is.
When one you used to love, the giver of a broken heart,
becomes, once again, your friend;
when you forgive and forget the pain that went before,
and enjoy simple companionship once more -
there it is.
In the work you've done,
finally meaning something;
in just honestly being who you really are;
in a father's proud word -
there it is.
In the stars and the moon,
peeking out for a celestial salute;
in the sun, blazing bright and orange,
settling on a placid lake,
in a deeply soulful song -
truly, there it is.
This world's got one hell of a lot to offer,
if only we'd remember sometimes to look at it.
The Pure Creature
How shall I come, I ask, and the voice answers: come humbly and with patience and in silence,
Stay still and open and clear as water before the dawn that has not yet crossed the distance,
The more quiet you are the more will come than you ever dared to dream or seek,
Believe me, more than you can imagine... if you learn to wait and witness... and not speak.
I have learned to be a witness to the silence like a tree that listens to the wind without restraint,
To stand aside and let the pure creature be born and grow without complaint,
It is not born from will and force and mind and cold calculation's art,
It is born only when two people love... and sacred time flows through their heart.
Behold the finished pages of the book that is called mother and child and mystery,
Its structure is the heartbeat pulsing beneath a strange white morning's history,
Are they here... the rhythm... the pulse... the soul that beats inside the words?,
You of little faith... have you not seen already?... do you not remember?... do you not feel the chords?
It is time to stand aside and let the creature breathe alone inside the world,
Each one must witness for himself... without delegation... without a name unfurled,
Open and willing like a broken window through which all the seasons enter free,
And the pure creature floats through us... unseen... binding all of time's debris.
The voice says: more will come than you have courage to request or dare to claim,
Your silence is a temple and the more you empty it the more it fills the frame,
Do not force the coming... do not call with noise... do not build with hands of clay and fear,
Let love do what only love knows how... in silence... and in the small mirror here.
The pure creature is born only when two people love each other whole and complete,
When one becomes a witness for the other and stands humbly at their feet,
And the pages of the book close by themselves when the story has been lived and felt,
And the voice goes quiet... and the creature breathes... and the world is once again... unborn... and dealt.
I'm once again awake in this inside out state
Never confused because I know I'm mixed up
Is it me I see in viewing blurred investigate
Has nature mistrued this building a buttercup
I really don't know how I get there, day after day
Is it a giving window that assures my mind thralls
Then I'm where in standing blinding emptiness
Allowed seconds of whom I was when I was total
Glimpsed memories of I seeing images of my past
Faces known years in confusional dark abound
Children I knew last week, names now lost so fast
Not even voices can rebound their previous sounds
I'm now even I don't know, whom now looks at who
This someone who looks back at me can't you see
Darkened silhouettes pierce my blanked see through
Once again awake, in this inside out state see plea
21/11/2015