Long Out of his mind Poems
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He was born too late to be,
What he knows he is in his soul,
And though he’s quite accomplished,
Sometimes he doesn’t feel quite whole.
He’s a lawman of sorts,
Born out of his time,
Trying to uphold basic beliefs,
As an example for others to toe the line.
And he rides an iron horse,
And though it’s not a muscled steed,
It gets him where he’s going,
Whenever there’s a need.
They say, sometimes he’s crazy,
Plumb out of his mind,
Searching, for something,
They say he’ll never find.
He rides the asphalt prairie,
Through the heat and through the cold,
Just a Concrete Cowboy,
In search of Days of Old.
He believes in rescuing maidens,
Stuck beside the road,
And he wouldn’t have it any other way,
Than to live by a Code...
“Do what’s right by every man,
And never compromise,
Be good to little children,
“Cause life is a surprise.”
Stuck between buildings,
Of metal, brick and glass,
The only time he sees green pastures,
Is when he cuts the grass.
Looking for a way out,
To a place that’s in his dreams,
Only other Cowboys,
Would ever know what he means.
When he says he’s headed someplace,
Where he’ll race the open sky,
Only other Cowboys,
Understand the reason why...
Why he rides an Iron Horse,
For all the world to see,
It’s his one last chance to go back,
To a time when he was free.
Loyal in his heart,
To those who have gone before,
He scans the horizon,
Looking for that open door.
In the company of Ghost Riders,
In the roaring of the engine and the wind,
He searches for his destiny,
Old lovers and old friends.
Galloping across the miles,
One day he’ll reach the open sky,
Many, will see him pass,
But only other Cowboys will sigh,
Because he rides an Iron Horse,
Through time reflected in the glass,
Riding towards the future,
In an effort to reach the past.
Send Help! I’m trapped in an Insane Asylum!
Well most of the time, and although there is only the two of us here
The other inmate, for therapy, has put me on a programme of day release
Where I am permitted to go to work, pay the running costs and deal with the day to day ills
Of running this centre to house me and him, allegedly people with conditions of the mind
However he swears it’s only me who is insane and it is he is the one who is just fine
(Although I’ve heard that’s a symptom of those who are deranged)
But when I am back on site the other inmate despite me doing everything that’s required to complete my day release work therapy
Which keeps the centre for the inexcusably insane live, behaves like a real jerk
In fact his behaviour is strange all round like someone who’s buried his head in the sand
And doesn’t seem to want to come out....(I’m not convinced he’s not the one who’s out of his mind)
This other inmate looks familiar those blue eyes and light brown hair
Although he insists he is not insane and should not be there....
Yet he never leaves the centre for the mad and deranged (apparently that’s my diagnosis anyway)
And there’s something about me being removed from reality?
That I ‘just don’t get it!’ (Although he never explains it – preferring to communicate by just huffing puffing and looking grumpy - a language without words I cannot understand)
Yet isn’t it me who leaves the centre for the mentally insane to go on my day release work therapy every day? I don’t get it I think that’s because (so the other inmate says) it’s me who is insane
So while I am on my day release scheme he stays within the asylum walls alone
Waiting for who knows what? Although his therapy seems to involve something....
I think he calls it ‘Facebook’? Apparently it’s a great place where online he is 18 again and not 36, which fixes everything!
(Please proceed to part 2 - thank you)
The Private caressed his balls out of action during the short ceasefire
the Army had scanned him for testosterone because they needed a killer
He bit into a Milky Way as he cradled his crotch to get ready for the fight
his Universe had become conquest for a medal or a bow to his member
he was an intelligent man and knew that Thanatos and Eros were close
he was bored with war as his days were filled with one kill after another
a bit of rape pillage and outright murder strewn in for diversity training
nothing out of the ordinary just protecting family dogma and fatherland
But wait today he had been given a Galaxy chocolate bar in his rat pack
mouth-wateringly smooth it ran down his sticky fingers in the battle heat
Divine comedy called as he slipped from the trigger to miss the target
oiling his gun had been his forte but sweets and retribution don’t mix
When he reached for the hand-grenade on his ammunition belt he stalled
because he held a flaccid apple and dreamt of virgins and paradise’s snake
gripped his resolve and temptation firmly and waved a whitewashed flag
But he had enlisted for glory so when duty called again he felt like a Smartie
and an Oreo biscuit creamy on the inside sheltered and crisp on the outside
He had once read Nabokov but this moment was reserved for Nabisco and
Lolita approached in hot pants on the horizon in between ruins and dust
Where there’s smoke there is light he concluded and happiness is a warm gun
He had to get collateral damage out of his mind and face mostly friendly fire
so he delayed retrograde action for there is a time for every pulsating feast
and therefore he loaded his kind weapon and aimed straight at bull’s eye lids
dreamt of his wife and his mistress he had to guard with all his body and soul
Just then he exploded in a mine field and became a eunuch in Dad’s Army
14th September 2020
An extreme silence characterized the night, when an elegant gentleman arrived to the remote town, when every body knew each other, and a new face was recognized inmediately. He entered to a cocktail lounge called The Mist. There was a lady who sang in the place, that enchanted all the gentlemen with her melodious voice as a siren. Synchronization was playing a role in their lives without even know it.
Sudden breeze charged with the energy that born when two souls recognize each other, was felt in the air immediately between the two strangers. He cannot miss the opportunity to meet her. He introduced himself as Alphonse. The singer name was Alphonsine. Coincidence of names and fates. The black dress she was wearing gave her a charming appeal that Alphonse could not take it out of his mind.
He invited her to a cup of red wine. She accepted. Alphonse had heard about her voice and he wanted to hear her singing. He was a lonely man with bad luck with women. His relationships broke up without explanation. Alphonsine was single. She had never married. Many of their songs were about his fate in love. The closing hour of The Mist was near. They say goodbye and agreed to meet in The Mist next day.
Candles and flowers decorated the table when Alphonse and Alphonsine sat. They talked about their life experiences. She exuded a charm that mesmerized Alphonse. He invited her to dance. Without hesitating, Alphonse told to Alphonsine that she was the love of his life and that he wanted to marry her. Alphonsine accepted the proposal, marrying one year later, and leaving behind The Mist, the place when a love at first sight began.
Example For Romance In The Night Contest
7-30-2016
Once Sariputra went into hiding.
"A mess, a disarray, a chasm of chaos, - Sariputra thought, passing through mango trees, - an ecstasy of alliterations, which iambic pentameter as such represents none other than yet more mere verbiage uselessly rending the air against the background of irrefutable facts testifying to the opposite: it's all predetermined, there is no chaos".
It was the chaos, though, under which he managed to escape arrest and to flee the city, when the locals started cutting philosophers. When a mounted patrol spotted him, Sariputra decided to verify in practice the old good trick which every Buddhist knows from his childhood.
- Halt, - the patrol leader said.
- Ok, - Sariputra said, continuing walking along the road.
- I said stay! - the patrol leader said in his anger.
- Don't you see, I'm staying, - Sariputra said, keeping on a walk.
- Stay when you are, you bloody philosopher! - the patrol leader said in a rage.
- The bloody philosopher's been sick of staying, - Shariputra said, taking on his way.
At this moment, the patrol leader, of course, found enlightenment and asked Shariputra for a sermon.
- Chaos, - said Sariputra, - this is when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future*.
When Sariputra said this, all the worldly beings - gods, humans, asuras, gandharvas - were filled with admiration and highly praised what had been spoken by him, and the patrol leader, relatively, got out of his mind.
* "Predictability: Does the Flap of a Butterfly's Wings in Brazil set off a Tornado in Texas?" Edward Lorenz
THE TEARS OF A VALIANT SOLDIER
The man coming home, used to wear
a military suit.
Man’s little older, wiser now,
not innocent … recruit.
‘Soldier his duty,” back then told,
same told, other young men.
Told they’d travel see the world, poor
gullible … little Ben.
Ben heard, “privilege fighting for peace,
for freedom for this land.
In return, be educated,
come home … a smarter man.”
And so Ben donned a uniform,
looked handsome as could be.
Put on, so that whole world might live,
in peace … and liberty.
Christmas Eve in foxhole, Ben thought,
“should be peaceful, not fight.” *
Thought, “must have been out of his mind,”
he’d known … killings not right.**
Christians killing other Christians,
saw Priest blessing each gun.
No way no one, on either side,
peaceful men … like God’s Son.
What no one ever mentioned, and
took war for Ben to see.
Blood guilt tears, he’s experiencing,
not who he wants … to be.
Ben, valiant soldier shed tears in
cold prison many years.
His CRIME, “Not kill fellow humans.”
now God’s approval ... hears.
Valiant soldier, peaceful teacher,
neutral in world affairs.
Scripture on U.N. wall obeyed, ***
'sword beat .… into plowshares.'
June 29, 2022 copyright
Contest : TEARS OF A VALIANT SOLDIER
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
*KJ- Romans 12:18- “as far as it depends on you,
be peaceable with all men.
**KJ -Exodus 20: 13-“Thou shall not kill’
*** KJ - Isaiah 2: 4 -“They shall beat their swords into plowshares,”
“neither shall they learn war anymore.”
Before he was married and had a son.
Before he completed his college education. Before he succeeded with a masters degree. Before he had a great career and a nice new house.
He had come to America from central Africa to realize a dream. When I met him he was broken, and in his own words, void of hope. He was out of funds and nearly out of his mind as he tried to cope.
Toward the back roe of a gospel church he sat, at the end of his rope. He had stalled and came to seek and search, not knowing what was next. He was not invisible that Sunday, because God had divised a plan for Kelema.
Earthly tangibles would always be graciously received, but could never suffice alone. The sermon was great, but that Sunday it was not in the sermon. The songs of worship were wonderful, but that Sunday it wasn't in the songs. That Sunday, he needed more, and more is what he recieved from a dear godly woman. She simply uttered words of life, words of faith, and WORDS OF HOPE that changed him forever.
06202017PSContest, Broken, Lewis Raynes
As In the Days of Noah…
As in the days of Noah, there was wickedness in the land!.
So shall it be in the days of the coming of the son of man!
There were many forms of ungodliness that were enjoyed!
Until the day of the flood...
Then it was all destroyed!
Imagine building an ark that took one hundred
and twenty years!
The labor it took! Throughout the blood,
sweat and tears!
The people laughed, and thought Noah
was “out of his mind.”
But soon, the wrath of God,
is what they would find!
God gave them a chance to repent, but no one would.
So he had Noah and his family made an ark out of wood.
Noah warned them all, consequences there would be!
And warned them of where
they’d be spending eternity!
Then, the rains came and poured like never before!
The people got scared!
They couldn’t take anymore!
They cried and shouted, “Noah” “please let us in!”
“We didn’t believe you, when you told us of our sin!”
The door on the ark was shut! God’s judgment came down!
Other than Noah’s family, there was no one else around!
America’s days of wickedness will be coming to an end!
Very soon, God’s judgment will certainly begin!
Will you mock the men of God? Who preach God’s word?
Or will you live as if, his truth, you never heard?
As in the days of Noah, so shall it be at Christ’ return!
Will you join him in heaven?
Or stay on this earth to burn?
By Jim Pemberton
Who is he? Sally whispered to her best friend Mack.
Which one? He asked, not knowing she meant his other pal Jack.
That creep? He said, shaking his head with fascination.
They would make quite the couple, a real celebration.
Then he admitted the truth, that his friend Jack was a find.
He took her over to introduce her, knowing he was out of his mind.
Good bye my sweet almost girlfriend, thought sensitive Mack.
As Sally reached for the arm of his crypt mate, Jack.
Jack was dapper, debonair, and a dazzlingly delectable guy.
Once the girls met him, Mack was always a big fat why?
Sally turned her eyes on Jack, and the beginning of the end was over.
Jack smiled that smooth skeletal smile he had, that shone past Dover.
It was the beautiful woman with the light blue skin.
Her touch was warm, and her patchwork dress was thin.
Jack knew he’d never get enough time with this darling gal.
What is your name? He asked, barely breathing, appreciative of Mack, his pal.
It is Sally, she said, with long lashes that made her eyes seem more green.
The most breathtaking creature outside a crypt that Jack had ever seen.
They were inseparable from that moment, until the day they faded away,
Living in a cemetery, beneath oak where Luna watched them every single day.
I suppose in every neighborhood there is bound to be,
An old grouch who with everything tends to disagree.
It matters not whether it happens to be a her or him;
He or she will zoom into orbit at the slightest whim!
The neighbor's pooch performed an indiscretion upon his lawn.
With that a figurative line in the sand was severely drawn.
Said he, "If again over that fence your scruffy cur hops,
Me and you will have a little chat with the local cops!"
A car flew down the street like a bat out of you know where.
All the old grouch could do was shake his fist and swear!
A kid with his boom-box on max drove him out of his mind.
The grouch told him to cool it or he'd kick his scrawny behind!
The old crab was kept awake all night by packs of barking mutts.
The sheriff he will call tomorrow, no ifs, ands or buts!
When the neighbor kids trampled all over his blooming flowers,
They scurried home to mommy as a result of his fiendish glowers!
The old curmudgeon has had many acrimonious conversations,
As upon the neighbors he has expressed his manifold frustrations!
The old grouser will undoubtedly start a heated debate,
When attempting to enter Saint Peter's Golden Gate!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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