Long Shingles Poems
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My health is back; I am almost normal
I had been in the bowels of depression
after eight weeks of shingles that took me out and shook me
I saw my friends yesterday, for the first time
Seeing them is a great way to generate poem ideas
Their stories are always funny and spicy.
My grandchildren came over last week.
They were so glad to see me alive and healthy
After a hiatus that seemed to last ten years!
I am drawing cartoons, and painting in my studio.
It waited for me, happily, ready to give me joy
Whenever I was ready.
I picked up a dictionary yesterday and began
Looking for new words. I have a word list all over a page.
They are ready when I am ready.
In the meantime I am back in my studio drawing
Faeries, witches, cats, dragons, and pirate ships.
My health is so great, I dare you to make me walk that plank.
I dare you to try and get my goat.
I dare you to irritate me. My health is back!
I am enthusiastically me again. Splash.
WINTERS HOUSE
Black, bare in despair
alone to nowhere
On a corner crossroads to everywhere
Sits a house half-forgotten
a house full of itself and memories
Dark and Bright in a place out of time
Out of sight, silent and rare.
Haunted with this and that
winter covers
its eves,
only bones of rats
Broken dolls, toys after a wars drone
Sits and fights the aftermath
Coldwind drifts
Downy flakes of winter cover its lawn
A frozen frosting in white
Something floats
aloft adrift in a sea
of purity infinity,
its shingles are a miss
The wind is brisk
Something shutters sits still
Here in the middle of nowhere
In silence of graves
only Ravens rave of wars
Past victories won
Birth barely begun
lives lived out fast
And only the winters last
A winters house full of nothing and everything
Of fragments of memory,
furniture tattered, worn
Bits of cloth, torn
on drafts born cold wind scorns
Dishes cracked crazy in filigree
Photographs faded at last
Ferment of history
A winters House
I went and sneezed this morning, I never sneeze that way
Is this the end?’ I ask myself ‘is this my final day?’
Oh they will shrug their shoulders and surely give a sigh
But it’s not their life at stake, for me the end is nigh!!
Should I call the ambulance or just the doc instead?
Or sip lemon and honey and crawl back to my bed?
‘It’s man flu’ she says, like a pharmacist who knows,
But each and every ailment, surely she cannot diagnose?
Last week I had a cough, she dismissed it out of sight
But it was touch and go I tell you, it gave me such a fright
And then there was the shingles, okay then just a spot,
But it could have been the shingles, that’s what I could have got!!
If they only understood, that it’s not the same for me,
That I want to live a healthy life, ailment free.
It really is depressing that one day I’ll be right
And the way I sneezed this morning, it could well be tonight.
The sibilant wind blows
over frosted shingles of cracked porcelain.
Passed chain link a fissured road
wends the dry creek of my mind;
downtown the stars are charted
at a four-way stop of plywood windows,
oxidized copper's turquoise matte.
The poetry of rolled metal
wheezes mortal prose among tall weeds,
the crumbling concrete of promises.
I see it all from my window as if in trance,
a séance with the clock ticking
lifetimes of stanzas in one minute
as a For Sale sign clanks its chant on the fence.
Memory's verses were shipped ahead,
away from draped shadows
of bloodless marquees.
Sweeping remnant words
is like herding tears found in shards
of a broken tea cup.
A hiatus appeared in life's narrative,
but syllables in the tome are my amulets.
2/21/19
My pain level is an eight on a scale of one to ten.
Poor you, someone says. Someone who has no idea
That I have been running on pain levels of ten for three weeks.
An eight is terrific; great, something to strive for tomorrow.
Shingles has taken me hostage, inside my own house.
My body is her host, my mind wondering what I have done
in this lifetime or any other that was so bad that I deserve
a punishment like this.
I finally figured out today if I am sitting on a cold pack,
my pain level goes down to an eight. It took me two E.R.
visits, four days in a hospital and trying everything I could
fathom I could stand before I stumbled upon this wondrous idea today.
My skin is so hyper-sensitive that a horse fly landed on my
arm today and it felt like a honeybee digging a stinger into me.
The morphine pain pills did not cut it, so I got something else.
I hate to tell you, but they are not as effective as the morphine pills.
I have never in my life felt this level of pain.
I know there is a reason but I have no idea what it is.
I hope that I have suffered enough for all of my family and
All of my friends because I have suffered enough for every one of you.
L,
You walk by, you stare
not perfection but you're drawn
to its unique flair
blue shingles caressing
the night time sky
intrigue enters the picture
and you start to see
inside the sheerness
the classic curtains
with a touch of grey
you get closer and feel
a fire burning within
warming up the wind
there is comfort in the air
and living without despair
still looking
you can't help but wonder
the workings laid about
the entry and the halls
the mirrors revealing to us all
water runs
tepid thoughts tempt and bathe
a soothing serenade
there's a swing
and the moon happens by
you notice I notice
homes are built to last
the doorbell chimes
I open you close
the door to an ancient past
I've always looked rather young for my age, or so I'm told,
But a kid in the burger joint today was ever so bold!
He rang up a "senior rate" for the burgers that he sold!
That little scoundrel! How dare he assume I'm that old!
Nowadays, when I go to the barber and settle in the chair,
She suggests a subtle "retouch" would really enhance my hair!
The dermatologists says the "wisdom spots" on my hands and face,
Must be eradicated since they are a terrible disgrace!
I used to wear stylish shoes, they'd really knock you out.
Now I wear ordinary Doctor Scholls to accomodate my gout!
I wore suits of the finest cut when I was young and trim.
Now to oblige my portly physique, my clothes look so grim!
Seems my ears ain't functionin' too well as of late.
Hearin' aids would rectify that, accordin' to my mate!
I'm obliged to wear trifocal spectacles to improve my sight.
They hinder my depth perception and besides they look a fright!
Doctor visits leave me concerned about glucose and cholesterol,
Shingles, hypertension, triglycerides and acylglycerol.
Maybe that young burger vendor was right, truth be told.
There ain't no gittin' 'round it, I guess I'm gittin' old!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
I've passed this way many a day
and wondered as I strayed;
Who had opened, what had filled
the gap within the crib's dark bay.
The opening small in the wall
at once so spare yet alluring
with tilted sides and gap toothed maw
which now held field mice burrowing.
The boards of red once formed a bed
for stored feed of golden maze,
these cedar shingles had sheltered
the abundance of by gone days.
The farm's gone now, no fields, no cow
long past its youth, its heyday
housing only bitter sweet and
memories of corn cobs and play.
Yet, here it stands, as I go by,
and so quietly it brings to me;
the lingering joy of laughter
the faint echoes of jubilee.
100 Years Beyond
David J Walker
And after all
The mirror did not reflect any of the rain
From last Fall
Dryness is the grand prize won at contests of skill
At county fairs
Young girls always find ways to be perfect at something but
Boys don’t seem to care
Today we have scheduled a tour of an antique shop
On the older end of 34th street
Sanitation engineers supply the wares
A friend of a friend knows someone who remembers when
It was a dirt road
Many of the names on the sidewalk shingles are
Familiar and are the same printed in the phone book
On the nicer side of town
100 years ago turns out to be closer than I thought
Which means 100 years from now is almost here
Some of my fears are warranted
some might be coming true
but I've coined a lovely catch-all phrase
to keep me from feeling blue...
“Probably not today” I say
as my health is in decline
I'll probably not fall dead today
just gripe, and groan, and whine.
“Probably not today” I claim
as I look inside my cupboard
I shouldn't starve to death today
no, the thought is quite absurd!
“Probably not today” I state
as I think he loves me less
but he's not fallen out of love in a day-
no, it's needless, senseless stress...
“Probably not today” I judge
that my creditors won't be inclined
to seize, and freeze, and take away
all the things I consider mine.
“Probably not today, my dear”
I comfort myself by saying
the roof will hold another day
'though the shingles are decaying.
“Probably not today” I think
no, it's not as I had predicted-
although the rent's a few days behind
I probably won't be evicted.
“Probably not today” I chant
as the storms about me howl
I probably won't be blown away
'though the weather is quite foul.
“Probably not today” I add
as the list is growing so
that I hardly can keep track of all
my probable someday-woes.
“Probably not today” I fear
probably not, I guess...
I'll probably not stop thinking these things
'though it causes a terrible mess!