Long Over your head Poems
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With a roof over your head,
A key to your door
Fire in the grate
Clippie rugs on the floor
The countryside to roam
A dog by his side
A boy may be poor but
He’s still got h!is pride.
Another spring approaches
Weather more and more mild
Memories rush back from
When I was a child
More than fifty years ago
My dad used to say
Nights were drawing out by
A cock stride a day.
A man of the land once of
The shire drawn plough
Earning his weekly pittance
By the sweat of his brow.
A man of his time when
Most of the working nation
Were condemned to poverty
And blatant exploitation
My mam and dad never
Ever had a lot
But seemed so happy
With what little they’d got
And I had a childhood rich
In everything but wealth
Loved and wanted and
Blessed with good health.
Times have changed and today,
Poor materially have much more,
But the bailiff does at times seem
Never far from a worker’s door,
And I never thought I’d see the day
When a worker gave thanks
For the charity donations
From now essential food banks.
Mithering - North England dialect - worrying , complaining, countering
I thought I had gotten away from this part of my childhood,
but I turned at lettuce and ran into my cousin Linden
in the grocery store last Thursday.
He was delighted and dragged me back to their house
to observe more of their childish games.
Unlike in the movies where they pop a gunny sack over your head
and capture you,
Linden enticed me in a different whole-hearted way that made me
want to be dragged back into their drama.
With methodical guilt that appealed to
my niceness, and the reminder we are “blood” after all,
my notoriously personable
first cousin coaxed me back into his brother Tweedle-Man’s troubled waters.
I sat mesmerized, watching them do all the stuff they used to do,
when we were kids, only harder and meaner.
This used to be my circus, but I had long ago given up the three rings.
They are going on sixty, acting twenty-two, proud of their inflexibility,
and retention of youth.
I admire their eagerness to never change things
that have never in any way worked for them.
They valiantly hang on to a selfish life that has
never created a fulfillment for either of them, and has helped no one.
I resign myself to the socialized fact
That for a few more hours I will sit here,
pretending politeness. I do not exchange phone numbers or tell
them where I am living or with whom.
They do not care. It is all about them.
The ringmaster and the clown.
It would be an inconvenience for them to reach out again.
They are too inebriated and too high in other ways to find me again
Or even remember who I am or that I still exist.
I sit patiently a few more minutes.
Waiting for them to bring on the dancing bears.
Tweedle-man is wearing oversized glasses that light up. “Funny huh?”
Linden falls off the couch, laughing maniacally.
Just a few more minutes…
Written 3-17-2019
Contest: Bring on the Dancing Bears
Sponsor: John Lawless
Crazy how having respect for someone
Gets confused with kissing there butt
I guess I was just raised different form you
I'm sorry
But i'm honestly happy we're not friends anymore
I can’t believe I let you walk all over me
And yet i'm only seeing it once i've taken a good step back
I've always been someone to believe that everything happens for a reason
You might not understand what that reason is
But one day all the pieces will come to you
And you'll understand
I wish more high schoolers understood
That high school is such a small part of your life
So even though i'm having a hard time too
I want all the high school students reading this to remember
You are loved
And things will be hard at times
You'll feel like you can never get to the shore of this horrible ocean
But I believe in you
And I know how it feels to be in that ocean for a long time
With the waves rushing over your head
A million times over and over again
And i'm sorry you feel like this
But you have to remember there is things to live for
I know you didn't ask to be placed on this earth
But youre here for a reason
Trust me
YOU ARE WORTH SOMETHING
YOU ARE LOVED
Please don't forget that
-R.S
How many times do I start to quickly and easily reply
To a comment and realize with a humdrum of a sigh
That it has become part of a poem insisting to be let out
So I hurry to a blank page, and throw it down with a shout.
And how many times do I stare at this stuff
And wonder where it has come from, it’s sordid and gruff.
Is there a monster residing inside my pea brain?
One who will not release me until we reach the refrain.
But I am no songwriter, you protest as she takes over your head.
Hush little baby, she says. Commandeers and is bossy with pencil red.
You are irritated beyond reason, but aggressive she is in charge now.
How many of the rest of you have a muse who is a strong dairy cow?
You are alone on a deserted island that has been filled with overgrown fruit
and bare essentials. The water is so clear you can use it as an honest mirror
of truth. Over in the distance you spot a lovely hammock that has been hung
between two sturdy cypress trees. You decide to walk over and give it a try.(b)
Its soft material hugs you and before you know it, you are fast asleep in that
lovely makeshift hammock. The sound of the ocean rocks your ears in tranquil
motion to and fro. (b)
Passing clouds glide over your head without making a sound. They are watching
you breathe as they go by. Breathe from your diaphragm, your chest, your throat,
Breathe in and out.
You smile cuz you are in a place of inner contentment. A little green turtle trundles
along moving side by side close in , circling your little soft hammock.
She is heading for the ocean for some seaweed, jellies or tunicates. The little rosy
seashells are sitting at the edge. They call you over for a barefoot walk. You smile
as you rise and go to the edge of the water wetting your feet and holding spaced
with the dolphins and the fish (b)
You are going to live here for a little while. Long enough to receive your fitful rest
You are going to stay her for a little while, cuz you know it is the best place to be(b)
The End.
The show must go on from evening till morn; the show must go on in the midst of the storm, get the manuscript and recuse that man from the pulpit, get the director, producer, crew members and actors and upgrade the show before the end of December. Find another pitch to postulate the truth and reveal the intricacy of my adolescence and youth.
The show must go on when resources are low, the show must go on if you have nowhere to go, and if your father is dead you have to let the dead bury the dead, and get on the stage to compete the mission before for it’s too late. Find another rhythm that everyone can dive in; find another tune that we can listen to at noon. And when the time is right we will roll out a new dice.
The show must go on so spread the manuscript on the grass, the show must go on even when the day is dark; the director must re-organize the set and position the actors for a new bet; producers’ must recruit new audience and sponsor the actors on the set, when the finance gets low the producer must revive the show and give all participants something to start with; and when the day is done you must all get together and have fun.
The show must go on when everyone except the star is dead; the moon will provide company and comfort you in your bed; and the universe will embrace you when rockets are flying over your head. The show must go on when fire engulfs your bed and visitors are moving out of the town, going Around and around, just to start right back from where they began.
The show must go on when faces are sad and smile is welled up in your stomach, and when the boss gets mad at you and you don’t know what to do, you have to know how to talk your way through, the show must go on when am not around, the show must go on when you want to frown, the show must go on until eternity, people will come and go and you just have to be part of the show.
The show is about seven generation and their family. Each one is selected to serve a pivotal role in a special time cycle. How did you enter the crew fighting for something that doesn’t belong to you, the new pm a no none a you; your generation is of a different clan and just one person is selected to lead the band so the show must go on. to bring blessing all over the land.
We are conceived,
When two join together.
No matter what is believed,
We are set in motion forever.
As we step upon the stage,
Screaming and cying our way in.
To the Book of Life another page,
Is written of our triumph and sin.
As we strive to learn and grow,
We find the road we must travel.
And with each die we choose to throw,
Each day as played will unravel.
This is the way,
The way of human kind.
As we are swept away,
Upon the wave of time.
Cast upon a restless sea,
The ship you sail at your command.
Riding the waves of time and humanity,
And at the wheel only your hands.
You seek serenity,
Peace for your body whole.
You seek eternity,
For your mind and soul.
There’s no place that exists,
Where you can rest.
You can only resist,
At best.
Riding the wave of time,
Always forward.
Never behind.
Not knowing what you’re headed toward.
You sail on our ship in kind,
God’s navigating for sure.
Knowing your unstable mind,
You could land at any port on any shore.
So, you smile,
And take a drink.
All the while,
You've time to think.
But alas, you’re really not going anywhere,
You’re actually stuck in a rut.
And you don’t care,
You’re just another nut.
Trying to swim out,
Of the wave of time.
All wet, full of fear and doubt,
Of what you might find.
The wave splashes over your head,
And you are pulled under the tide.
You’re not drowned yet,
With courage you get back up and ride.
You hang ten
On the board’s right side
Near the end
You let it ride…
I am, you.
(verse 1)
The happiness, you think, you possess,
is only an illusion in my mind.
The hate you own is limitless,
and it's making you blind.
What you say is great ,
shall melt before your eyes.
The truth that you ejaculate,
is nothing more than lies.
(chorus 1)
I will always believe,
that you will deceive.
(verse 2)
I didn't ask, so, when did you think you could tell,
me how to live my life on this earthly hell.
Loneliness is forever in this cosmic void,
and my tears shall return to star dust.
I know you think you understand,
the reasons for the way I feel.
Your love is something I can never trust,
because, my emotions will end up destroyed.
(chorus 2)
If you want to know who I am,
I only have one answer, I am you!
(verse 3)
Do you still check under the bed,
and sleep with the covers over your head?
Do you pray to a real deity,
or do you worship a created god?
Are your dreams and nightmares of your past,
or of how you can destroy the future?
What happened to the happiness we never shared,
do you still suffer the way I do?
(chorus 1 & 2)
I will always believe,
that you will deceive.
If you want to know who I am,
I only have one answer, I am you!
copyright 11-15 & 16-96 David A. Porter
Simple Poetry
Love of nature
Through flowing rivers
Trees planted
Seeds watered granted
Humble beginnings
Sometimes clouds follow me
In the sky, only breathtaking
A peaceful place with no complaining
Turn off the noise
Small things matter most
Clothes, a roof over your head,
And food on the table
Keep life simple
No electronic devices
Just outside nature
The wind passes me by
As one, you and I
Breathe in fresh crisp air
Live in solitude
In the middle of nowhere
Through green prairies
Fragrances and beauty
With soul searching
A Simple Poem
Just the two of us
Room to grow
Early morning rise
Wake up to the aroma of coffee shine
Have you ever taken for granted the life in which you live?
Did you make it on your own, or did someone choose to give?
Is there food there on your table and a roof over your head?
Where did you sleep last night, on the street or in a bed?
Have you ever seen the homeless as they sleep out in the street?
Did you notice the clothes they wore or the shoes upon their feet?
Can you imagine the pain of hunger and how that would make you feel?
There are many who know this life and the pain is very real.
Imagine that you were forgotten and had nowhere to turn.
Maybe you were never taught in a way that you could learn.
The next time you’re out to dinner and have more than you can eat.
You could always box it up and relieve some hunger out on the street.
Are you thankful for all you have? How many holes are in your socks?
There are ways that you can help, just think outside the box.