Long Rings a bell Poems
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Edges edging the already on edge,
But calm and restraint is the pledge.
“Patience, child, this too will pass.”
Why is patience mine, but that guy’s an ass?
“We don’t measure ourselves
Based on others actions or thoughts.”
Therein lies a truth;
No judgment of dirtiness while covered in spots.
But question I do why he proudly trots,
While I suffer patience’s patient rot.
Balance, I thought, was the cosmic constant,
So I wonder who will be the good when I dip.
Not that I’m *that* good, but I only sip,
Lightly, gently on anger where others trip.
Now that I wonder, maybe I am the bad…
Taking stock of good, weighing against the ill-will I’ve had.
Maybe I am the bad, just a tad,
Which makes me madsad more so than glad..
Perhaps, however, it can be aimed?
Maybe bad should have bad maimed?
If I’m tainted anyway, perhaps I should be bad for good in a Holy Name,
Like Amalekites when Israel was restless and needed tamed.
And I am already restless, as a bat in the night.
So sic wicked on wicked to give them a fright.
As they say, “fight fire with fire”
And lucky for us, I’ve already built the pyre.
“Karma’s a b****”
…yes, I suppose
the phrase rings a bell…
But why be afraid
if the deal for a life made
Already ends in hell?
three seguidillas
written for the National Day of Prayer
May 2, 2013
Very soon after terror
threatens with its spell,
faith signals us to gather
belief rings a bell.
Sounding out our care
as the dreaded darkness falls.
Stop and offer prayer.
During times of joy and peace
and when hopes prevail,
morning, noon or late at night
praise should never fail.
Thank the God who cares
when His blessings intervene.
Stop and offer prayers.
If you're worried or afraid
if you're caught in doubt
realize God sees your plight,
open up and shout.
Victory declare
let folks know you know He's real.
Stop and offer prayer.
By the side of the mountain
I stand quietly,watching from
a distance
The valley of our roaring laughter
Our used-to-be musical arena
Where the ground deemed helpless
but to dance in happiness
The roses optionless,but to bow
in respect
The songs we sung,the rythmns we
alternated with our heroic voices
A place where we composed the verses
As the wind chipped in with Angelic choruses
The crimson sunshine glow
Embraces my melanin forehead
Triggering the composition of my mindset
Flashing back in,all the joyous moments
we shared
With no particular scene to spare
The serenity of the air we inhaled
The rythmitical melodious colabo we made
Rendering the nightingale bird choiceless
but to cloud in jealousy
Still all,abide by me like a shadow
With no significant signs of fading soon
Your looming shadow of rejoice
The echo of your vibrant smile
Still rings a bell in my heart
And this I promise you
Even in your absence
The reflection of sorrow,will know not
my existence
For happiness was our daily vocabulary
A steering wheel,it gets me going
Until the journey of two
Is achieved by one,clouded in the shadow
of the other
in a love carriage two passive passengers,
all their exchanges through facebook or messenger,
jokes are shared and some health menu recipes,
no spoken words just thumbs up, or “I agree!”
the journey moved on and a few months have passed,
he would say nothing in case she feels harassed,
she perhaps likes him too, but wouldn’t say so,
both in love but fear should the answer be “No!”
history has taught them pain of broken heart,
why a couple who once loved, now live apart,
afraid to stir the cauldron of hot desires,
wish to go along life lonesome and retire.
a donut and coffee starts a day so well,
in surprising moments life then rings a bell,
he paid the bill with a smile and a thank you,
the girl at the counter was her, and she knew.
So it was the two met and then chose to wed,
without coffee, doughnut, their love would be dead!
Underground or on your feet
I told the world
I will win
Cos I know I can't get out
Of this cold world alive
the holes left for me
I already filled it up with love
And now my fears are turn to courage
There is no other way
If I have to be on my feet
So i just have to move on
The journey of life continues
Chapter after chapter
Page after page
The misery don't matter
But The grieves rings a bell
Yet my soul is all I need
Cos I prefer life over vanity
And that keep me always
On my feet
Instead of underground
I value life
I live for love
I am royal to nature
So free me
Let me be
Underground or on your feet
Dont take my breath away
Cos am not ready to be
Your problem
I just want to breathe
And feel the life around me
Am not for your games
I already figured out my way
There is no other way except
My soul my spirit my mind
With this divine trinity
Eternity is my possession
With this unification my feet
Stand so strong on the ground
So don't be in a hurry
To take my breath away
I already know I can't
Get out of this cold world alive
Nothing surprise's me anymore
In a cold world were so many
Innocent are laid to rest
So brutally underground
Just for nothing..............!
I value life
I live for love
I am royal to nature
So free me
Let me be
Gold is such an awesome word
many seek it for all their days
but it eludes the vast majority
no matter their efforts it stays
Poetically with your pen in hand
you ponder many a thought
so to bring forth insightful lines
such a gift can't be bought
In the scriptures a class writer
one such King David was so
the Psalms were his delight
prophetical his words high or low
Being a Scot read much of Burns
a famous bard he did forthtell
packed so much in his short life
so inspirationally rings a bell
Looking at life's direction
finding your golden thread
that's your goal at the end
pen in hand this you were bred
(This piece was written based on
the poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay"
BY ROBERT FROST)
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
“The teacher is called from the deep. He carries you on his shoulders so you can see beyond the shrivelled meadow.”
- Quote by Poet
Though I had left high school,
I took him along with me,
His memory lingered with me,
I carried him in a notebook,
As I turn each page I see him,
As I go through each topic he stands with me,
A man of insight and foresight,
He knows his onions too well,
He lives and breathes the subject he teaches,
It runs through his vessels,
He calls it his air,
He takes one step at a time,
He says that there’s no need to rush,
He lays the foundation,
He also lays the blocks in a painstaking bonding,
He waters the parched ground,
He strengthens feeble boughs,
He stirs the sleeping waters,
Behind his strict facade is a compassionate stream.
Though it’s been decades since I left high school,
His name still rings a bell,
His nuggets aid me in tunnelling through the night,
His advice has been a bridge for me over troubled waters,
He often said,
“You don’t know the importance of a tree until life takes you through a desert.”
I now understand those words better,
They now make so much sense to me,
Though we have been separated by time,
I'm glad that I’m able to write a tribute to him.
September 22, 2024.
Are you there? I can hear your silence
As it rips apart all of me…all of me…
Are you there? I need some deliverance
As I fall apart by the seams frankly
Am I lost? Why must I go through so much stress?
I am making sheer progress by deleting hopelessness
I am sorry that I hurt you so…hurt you so…
I am sorry that I have to let go…let you go…
I have become dumb…
I drink sorrow’s rum…
I am reduced to this bread crumb…
I will be strong like titanium
I will be strong and ripened like a sweet, beautiful plum
Are you there? I can hear your footsteps
As it rings in my ears and rings a bell…you caress me again
Your lips quiver against my own
As if you loved me long ago – does it still show?
Are you there? I can hear your silence
As it rips apart all of me…all of me…
Are you there? I need some deliverance
As I fall apart by the seams frankly
Benevolence and perseverance –
They are all in my throbbing head of dread
You are truly in my remembrance
I need some happiness and cheer instead
I am left so uncertain for infinity years
I am left broken with many fallen tears
Am I lost? Why must I go through your agony and worries?
I am making sheer progress as I walk to and fro in the breeze
NOT ONE BUT FOUR
Who are the British, do they exist,
these nationals of her Britannic majesty
so often shortened to ‘ Brit’.
Eighty years, and more
I’ ve walked this shore but ‘Brit’
I see not, here, where I, sit.
A kingdom united, yes that
rings a bell, but, am I
a ‘Brit’; No, No, do let me tell
of Four Kingdoms, as one, England
Scotland, Ireland and Wales. This
quartet, the crux of my tale.
Many things each maybe, ..but never
a ‘Brit’. We are Scot, Irish, Welsh
or English..now do you see ?
Each nation, unique and distinct,
language reinforces my point, as in
English, not British, this poem I ink
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2012
A butterflied eye
blinking stars do shine
on every beating wing
as birds softly sing
to silver maned unicorns dancing in a ring
of dragons snapping webs of woven silk
In a swirl of clouds made of milk
a towering blue filled sky
high diving wheels do fly
on a hundred tuxedoed marching bears
humming out sweet honeyed airs
a hammering anvil octopus with tentacles uproarious
playing a melancholy song
on harps long gone
to sea depths of whales
clicking tongues with their tails
while dolphins do a trick to a metronomic tick.
Purple waves a thousand string bows
as I pull out a petrol coloured rose
from everybody's nose
children burst out a laughing bubble
on a policeman turning into a clown
frozen stiff with a frown
a bassoon the size of an elephant bellowing out such eloquence
with oboes and clarinets that slither and snake their way
blowing bugles into bubblets parping out little trumpelets
and saxophones rippling out dancing skeletones
that shatter cymbals and kettle drums into smithereens
blue tongued lizards fingering their zithers
And last but not least a thousand nimble mice who play piccolos on ice
The performance now takes on a darker tone. Is that a flash of lightning?
Do ominous clouds roll in across the sky?
A belated troop of grinning baboons
Sawing double basses
gnashing teeth and pulling faces
As I wave my wand to whistle forth a dark cloaked demon
from an infernal region
to hit grand piano keys bringing the crowd to their knees
blackened sulphuric fingers spread
Inspiring some unholy dread
as cloven hoof beasts clamour
and witches dance enamoured by yer fiery guest
who draws out hell at yer own behest
Purple Cat rings a bell and the whole artifice fell.