Long Start up Poems
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The Trails of Sanity
Why do I care if the disturber carries on
Why is it I cannot just wait it out, bide my time
Be more mindful, try and bond
Embrace what I don’t understand
Welcome the scorching taste in my mouth
I wait, I watch, and watch and wait
what seems a millennium
The afterglow of embers still burn
Just sit tight…
The day ends with a tug on the swatch
of the backpack, I doff it off my shoulders
I hear the trifles start up once more behind me
As my eyes wander upwards
As the Rigel star taps into my soul
As I surrender inward, a whispering voice
cues consolingly…
Here you are
Mind at ease
Free
Why must the mourning come
with every dawn?
The sky is crying again today.
I heard her sobbing
as I laid in bed.
She would calm down
for a little while,
then it would start up again.
Did I do something
to upset Mother Nature?
I watched in solemn silence
all afternoon
as her tears
streak down my window pane.
I wonder what I can possibly do
to comfort her.
There are no tissues large enough
to wipe away
a streaming flood of sorrow.
Maybe this is just Mother Nature's way
of grieving,
and soon it will pass.
The newborn flowers
open their blossoms
to receive and embrace
her gift.
Mother Nature is so beautiful
even when she cries.
May 13th, 2014
He goes through each day
obsessing over how to
increase his earnings.
Times are hard.
He's drowning in debt;
his bills gradually piling up.
Creditors bug him so much,
he feels like screaming;
soon landlord will come knocking.
He consolidated his loans;
it hasn't made much of a difference
He asked his boss for overtime,
nothing doing.
He applied for a second job,
no dice. He's still waiting for a call back.
He wants to start a home business,
but doesn't enough start up cash.
Desperation is gradually setting in.
He's put unneeded clothes
on consignment,
he's holding garage sale,
rationing food,
clipping coupons,
exercising for free,
shopping in thrift stores,
bicycling to work
and he's cut cable television
down to basic. Anything...
to decrease his spending.
Date written: 03/09/2021
Sometimes actors play a role
Which touch us to our very soul
Even though it is not real
Something deep down makes us feel
That we can associate
With the part that they create
And the movies that we watch
Can ignite us like a torch
Because some things that we see
Brings up our past history
One that leaves me lots of scars
Is the world famous Wizard of Oz
The characters are memories
Of the way that he left me
The tin man has no beating heart
You took mine right from the start
Leaving me no way to care
Because my heart’s no longer there
The scarecrow has no way to ponder
All his thoughts just seem to wander
That’s the way I feel when
My thoughts of him start up again
Asking why my useless brain
Let him cause me so much pain
The lion isn't strong but weak
Because his courage he can’t seek
That’s the image I showed him
My courage can’t show up again
Every time I took him back
I had another “weak” attack
Dorothy was all alone
She just wanted to get home
To her loving family
There was no home left for me
The love just seemed to disappear
I couldn't find it anywhere
The wicked witch was just pure evil
Trying every day to steal
The love out of the purest hearts
The way he tore mine all apart
There’s one portrayal that I can
Connect to as I take your hand
The wizard saved Dorothy's friends
Bringing her home in the end
The way you went through every length
To give my heart back all it’s strength
My courage and knowledge I have sought
To regain ever since you brought
A loving home back in my life
Making everything alright
One moment she was teasing him. He turned
his head. Sweet eyes that twinkled testified
that she adored him. Then his stomach churned!
A deer appeared from the forest wild-eyed.
He braked the car and swerved. A brilliant light
from headlights streamed upon the startled doe
which, swallowed up by fate that cold, black night,
was killed on impact from the crashing blow.
Now stopped beside the road, he turned to see
his wife, whose soft eyes soothed him when their car
would not start up and, prone to worry, he
envisioned they’d get frostbite. Town was far!
The flavor of those dear eyes, toasty warm,
now reassured him they’d be safe from harm.
8/11/14 - Theme is "An Accident"
For the three themes - Poetry Contest of shadow Hamilton
Funny how winter turned into summer
Funny how winter turned into summer, not really, but it left a chill behind
So fifties in July feels like it never left, as we bundle up and we do find
A touch of winter lingering around with its long fingers in the cold air
Winter didn’t turn into summer, just sort of stayed a bit longer this year
I suppose it’s not so funny, while also this rhyme may not quite fit
With the theme it is supposed to be, hopefully not enforced with any writ
Anyway, we’ve been waiting for the rain to stop for more than a day or two
We’ve been hoping not to have to start up the woodstove for a few
Never have I seen a season like this, especially after all the snow piled high
When we eagerly waited for spring, then with what arrived, we did sigh
August may turn out to be a true summer time, we can continue to hope
Before we know it, the skiers will be back for skiing on the mountain slopes
So we are still waiting for winter in summer to actually decide to let go
Then enjoy some summer days, before it returns with all the inches of snow
Heidi Sands
*Placed 5th in contest: Funny how winter turned into summer.
7/29/17
In the square of the town, is an old wooden clock
with a movement that only one time has been wound.
You can try to get answers, but no one will talk,
though the rumors of horrible sights still abound.
It was scheduled to start up on All Hallows’ Eve,
and the clockmaker finished his work on the job,
was collecting his tools and preparing to leave,
when a spindle broke loose and it started to throb.
When he opened the door to see what was amiss,
’twas the mainspring went flying and pierced through his chest.
Wretched coil pinned him there with a terrible hiss;
as if that wasn’t bad enough, wait for the rest.
Since the door had been opened, the weights were now free,
and then gravity sent things from bad to much worse,
for the image observers say they can’t unsee
were his arms spinning wildly, like somebody cursed.
The long arms of the clock had been snagged on his shirt,
and the force of the mainspring just dragged them around,
and for thirty long seconds, no eyes could divert,
till his arms came to rest as the weights hit the ground.
When they got him, his arms were at nine and at three;
seems the clock’s strange malfunction was caused by his botch.
As for whom the bell tolls, friend, we all check to see,
but they all look away when they’re winding their watch.
----------
Lol, my wife says she's sleeping with one eye open tonight...
This was supposed to be for Craig Cornish's contest, but one
never knows where these things are headed. Turns out
anapestic tetrameter is pretty good for telling yarns.
I hope Terry Flood will approve!
It was that bloody Sunday, March 7, 1965
The fight and struggle
The revolution with Hate and Love
The multitudes to convey the Civil Rights message
The shall in overcome
Marching for Miles
It was during the period of Dr. Martin Luther King style
Former Representative John Lewis and many other legacies that support the mission were involved
Chanting in song while
Determination steady and strong
Race shouldn’t be a factor, but character being an honor
The people of Selma knew they were created to be among society
No mistake, Heaven’s purpose
It was about coming together as a Nation
Opposition negativity thought otherwise
Hate was the voices of the opposed and Civil Rights Activist chose Love
Hate doesn’t understand
Love sustains value
The people of Selma understood that guided by God’s Wisdom
The voice of the Kingdom
Multitude voices refused to surrender in negative thoughts and evil ways
The theory was “Together We Shall All Stand”
Change was going to come
Selma did win, and love and embrace became victory
Yet we are not back to the story of another
It is 2025, and opposition is trying hard to go backgrounds while we the people thought we were going forward
Backwards to where all struggles began with more racial disturbances start up
The fight is on again being more determined than ever before being the need to “UNITE and OPPOSE”
Can’t be still
There’s still Civil Rights to continue to fulfill
While we have breath in our bodies at will
There cannot be a pause nor silence
Civil rights, Liberty and Freedom
Shouts of dignity our cause
We will win again until we all rise together as one.
the trepidation-monger
offers his wares
at a discount
sneaks in a price hike in
every now and then
relabels panic and anxiety
three for the price of two
best before tomorrow
he serves a long queue
hyperinflation
calls for more worries
and he dispenses
feelings of dreaded alarm
but not to fret
he has unlimited supplies
unchained at his shelves
he is not perturbed
by internet shopping
because virtual distress
is only half as good
as coming face to face
with the façade of sheer horror
a consumer society
overwhelmed by
fast food delivery
of gloom sandwiched
in between lost hope
and trepidation
unleashes its offer of
unlimited causes
for despair in light
of dark purchases
across the road in a small outlet
a little old lady offers happiness
free at the point of delivery
priceless to good homes only
money does not cover her cost
and yet she engages in
the trade to grant transient relief
from fear of fear and its triggers
an unsung hero
because most people had forgotten
how to sing dance and enjoy
so exhausted were they
from finding reasons
for misery and deceit
she is too old to call
her venture a start up
too wise to wrap up
her gifts in fine glossy paper
a rubber band will do
to contain comfort and courage
calm and cheerful she greets
an occasional customer
and advises to look carefully
at the writing on the wall
graffiti maybe but scripted with love
On this quiet and gentle winter morning of
February 20 at 7:20, I watched my front porch
fan-blades being slowly moved by the wind which
pushed the blades in a counter-clockwise direction.
In a very mild wind-flow, the velocity changed
back and forth and occasionally stopped briefly
as if needing a moment to decide, only to
start up again in the same direction.
Some weeks ago, I observed this phenomenon and noted
that the fan blade completely stopped briefly and changed
directions. However, it seemed clear then and now that
there is a preference to a counter-clockwise direction.
I tell you, this fan- blades observing has caused me pause
I am now compelled to ponder my way forward in a
gentle God-based flow of spiritual wind and pursue
a course with a consistency of direction