Long Steam Poems
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I was working out on the elliptical machine in the gym, feeling good and watching
the "Calories Burnt" number climb higher and higher.
Then, I noticed a rather shapely and attractive woman step off of the machine two
rows in front of me. As she turns and faces me, I cannot help but notice that the
nipples on her rather large breasts are erect and pressing against her sweat
soaked, tight t-shirt.
When working out, and at other times as well, I suppose, I sometimes drift off and
just stare into space not really cognizant of what I am looking at while lost in
thought.
I must have been doing this as this young woman started walking towards me on
her way to the drinking fountain.
She stops abruptly in front of me and says, rather curtly, "Why don't you take a
picture?"
Snapping out of my temporary coma, I respond, "I'm sorry - what?"
"You seem to be staring at my breasts," she rudely insinuates.
Now, at times like this, in a confrontational moment, I like to try to immediately get
on the attack and, sometimes, in my panic to do so, I can say the stupidest things.
In this case, I come back with, "Are your nipples pointing at me!?"
"What!?"
"Your nipples. They seem to be pointing at me!"
"I assure you, I cannot control what my nipples do."
"And I," I smugly reply, "Cannot control what my eyes do."
"You could look away," she challenges.
"And you could wear a thicker sports bra or sweatshirt", I respond.
At this she just glares at me with hate in her eyes and steam emitting from her ears.
I stare back with my smug grin, alternating my look between her eyes and her
breast.
So, of course, you know, we made wild passionate love in the equipment room at
the back of the gym.
And, just before we climaxed in a frenzied, naked and sweaty embrace, ...
... I woke up from my nap on the couch.
This is when I got up, changed into my sweatpants and went to the gym for a
workout.
As a runner and a writer
I reflect often on the subject of endurance
Convinced that physical and spiritual endurance are connected
I link the two together
We have to train to cultivate endurance in ordinary times
Raqn 6 marathons and 1 ultra marathon
In every race have reached a point where
I came to my limit, end of myself
Keep in mind that this usually happens
Sometime prior to finish line
It is that point that I physically feel
That Eternal God is carrying me
He is the only source of a steadfast spirit
Whatever you face in your day today
Don’t lose heart
Don’t lose steam
Know that Eternal God goes before you
Creating a clean heart
A fresh perspective
Giving you strength to endure
4212014
'Twas time once again to saddle up for the annual world tour,
Another flying trip around the earth that they must again endure!
"I'm a-gittin' too old fer this flyin' business!" declared Prancer!
"That fat old man is sure gittin' a burden to tote!" exclaimed Dancer!
"The old man gets the treats - all we git is oats!" grumbled Vixen!
"And them lazy elves load the sleigh far too full!" griped Blitzen!
Donner complained about that upstart Rudolph with the shiny nose!
Dasher agreed, "Yeah! He's Santa's pet and that ever'one knows!"
Comet avowed, "Why don't that old poop let us fly the jet stream?"
"I'm quittin' after this ride!" said Cupid. "He just makes me steam!"
They complained about the cold weather and landing on slippery roofs,
Ice forming on their antlers and the fear of breaking their delicate hoofs!
Jouluupukki and the other elves waved and cheered as they flew away,
With sacks of dollies, trucks, bikes and coal overloaded on the sleigh!
The only thing the grumpy reindeer considered their greatest joys,
Was the privilege of delivering good cheer to all the little girls and boys!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Close your eyes
inhale roses-
love-glazed steam
of insatiable thirst;
place your thoughts
upon my heart,
feel my
voice s w i r l i n g
in sync with
periwinkle promises
whilst devouring
unfurled petals
facing ebony skies,
tenderly sketching
silhouettes with
vanilla drops;
for you and I,
we are interwoven
souls through
cosmic t r a n c e…
forevermore.
Tonight when dusk
transcends the
darkest twilight,
I’ll allow these
thoughts to
d r i f t into a magical
meadow where
butterflies b o u n c e
from wavy blades,
reflecting our love
in unspoken shades.
I’ll wait for you,
to relearn what
it means to be
the flesh and
bone of summer…
as this longing
c a s c a d e s
in
sherbet hued
cherry blossoms.
And if
the moon
refuses
to rise,
I’ll sketch your
pearlescent smile
across g r e y i n g
spheres, like the
first
glimpse
of
morning crescent;
unveiling verses-
s p i r a l i n g as mystical
milky-ways within…
emanating candy
coated cologne..
So find me
between
flickering afterglows,
l i s t e n to the
whispering willows,
seek shelter beneath
autumnal rainbows,
amidst m o v i n g seasons,
for two hearts
that beat the same,
would always find
their rhythm amidst
many seas
ruffling with ripples
of aching dreams,
between them~
although virtual
hugs are all we have
to keep our
f r e e z i n g
souls of summer
warm and in sync.
I first saw her sitting at a table,
sipping her coffee at a small café.
Her eyes were brown and her hair was sable
her smile the kind that takes your breath away.
Sitting and minding my own coffee cup,
steam was rising in misty morning air.
His darkened gaze met mine when I looked up;
his smile did curl a face so debonair.
Steam rose from her cup as it met her lips
our eyes convened as I walked down the aisle
this classy lady’s beauty could launch ships
as I passed her by she returned my smile.
Who could not detect his confident air?
his valiant stride like a peacock in plume;
this man with wild wisps of soft windblown hair,
his full lips like tender petals in bloom.
As her smile fades I can’t help but wonder
if her love is pledged to another man
and if we met would lives be asunder
disrupting the balance of life’s own plan.
I chanced a glance; his hand for glints of gold
eyes struggled and suffered a quick debate
a ring on the hand that I longed to hold?
for it would surely determine our fate.
Perhaps I should just admire from afar,
and not let nature’s balance come ajar.
I was lifted without leaving my seat;
it’s easy to love those we never meet.
Searing flames within hissing steam burns
letting the dragons out in frozen time
cold stone winds blow into the desert sands of illusions etched
Dark and feral holding immeasurable promises
held captive under those that are never completely met right
freedom and forgiveness denied cries from an impenetrable heart
Hatred is the twisted short sided vulture of the virtues
incomplete confidence expressed in a waning moon
Tears of ivory silk burning salted spiced
Cries forever inside chambers weeping wall’s
taken far away into discoveries path
were limitations and love never coexist
Endless beginnings take centrefold in a staged arena
otherworldly visions of a life re-imagined scarcely believed
in a sealing ritual sacrifice, sacred temple of another is played outcast
Vibrant scalding primal evil colors paint the blood truth
boldly endurance can no longer be silence issued
through the sun’s warm radiance Illuminati exposed
Co written by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
unrhymed tercets
The two-feet gauge antiquated railway
climbs up the precipitous hilly gradient,
negotiates gallantly the steep gorge slope
of the Himalayan tough terrain ancient.
The miniature coaches so very elegant
of the old Darjeeling Himalayan Railway,
coil around the meandering lengthy loops,
for 14 decades steam engines slog in gay.
Gracefully creeping just like a caterpillar,
through dense mist reaches sleepy Ghum,
the highest Indian railway station en route,
from where down-slope journey resumes.
The speed is nearly like that of crawling snail,
the hold of the bike riders’ hands I could gain,
wait to get the grand view of the Kanchenjunga,
as patiently I travel thrilled in the tiny toy train.
October 2021
Contest : Railroads, A Historical Glance Back
Sponsor : BJ Legros Kelley
I dream about the ocean;
While walking in the rain;
I dream about the lakes and seas;
As my heart beats rhythmically;
My God has all creation;
Made from His Holy hands;
I am waling streets of gold (and)
Telling sinners of of stories not yet told;
I'm buying things not yet behold
I'm dreaming of Gods plans, I'm dreaming of Gods plan can you understand;
I have climbed many mountains;
While talking to the trains
Roaring as a lion blowing steam across the plains;
It's a land of milk and honey, a place of ever life;
Everything there is free, no need of money;
No fame nor fortune, nor strife;
I wake up in the morning with God on my mind;
He's the author and creator of the moon, sun and planets
Holder of the keys to eternal life, eternal life...
I have climbed many mountains;
While talking to the trains
Roaring as a lion blowing steam across the plains;
I dream about the ocean;
While walking in the rain;
I dream about the lakes and seas;
As my heart beats rhythmically;
My God has all creation;
Made from His Holy hands;
I am waling streets of gold (and)
Telling sinners of of stories not yet told;
I'm buying things not yet behold
I'm dreaming of Gods plans, I'm dreaming of Gods plan can you understand;
Again and again
MY GOD OF ALL CREATION
Amen!
10/3/1990
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 1990, 2019©
Arranged by The CORINTHIAN™ ©
Two girls and I were in Minden, Germany
A settlement once belonging to Charlemagne
On the banks of the Weser River
Near the Porta Westfalica
One day doing a performance
At a literary event in the Church of St. John
Built in the 13th century
Now an event venue called the Bürgerzentrum
(Citizen Center for Art and Culture)
Where we spent the night in bunk beds set up
In its old bell tower
Having breakfast at a Day Center
And lunch and dinner at street stalls
Or in the occasional restaurant
The younger one with a pretty face
And the other more beautiful than coral
When we suggested that we were going to be invited
By the Director of the event
To the Bali Therme, a wonderful complex
That you can't imagine in Bad Oeynhausen
With different thermal pools
Saunas, a massage area and a restaurant
All of them worth enjoying the most
The young woman said she didn't want to visit
The saunas where nudity is natural
And almost obligatory
We told her not to worry
Because we would use the saunas half-dressed.
We've finished the baths
And we're heading towards the promised saunas.
The girls wanted to go in first
I followed them.
Just as we entered the first one
The youngest froze
Like she was lifeless and heartless
Because, in front of her
Sat a completely naked and sweaty man
Showing off his enormous and testicles
Filled with steam
No doubt suffering from circulatory or cardiac problems.
She started crying and said to us:
-My God! I've never seen a man's cock
And I can't imagine swallowing a cock like this
If I ever make love or get married.
Since she was so sad and heartbroken
We went back to the water in the hot and cold pools
With salty seawater.
When her anger subsided
We told her not to worry
That the size of that cock
Would be softened by the doctor treating him
Until it became a child's .
She told us:
-After all, I had to see a someday
One I never thought would be so exaggerated.
Since you can never say never
I'm content to find myself
With a , even a child's one
Because life is very short
And the thirst to is strong
As my mother's friends tell me.
When the sky is veiled with dark hues
And the days are wintry cold,
When prospects for sky to turn blue
Are dim, remote and far from bold,
When darkness spreads over one`s life
And living is a daily strife,
When chance for brightness to recur
In the near term is faint and blurred,
When fate hurls a soul in a ditch
And dreams seem to be out of reach,
But youthful hues sit on the skin
Like a plant newly flowering
Like the freshness of morning dew
And the joints carry manly strength,
Hopes for summer to bring anew
Brighter sunny days at long length
May truly enlighten the heart,
A solid sense of strength impart
Cheer up the spirit for a while
And on the face restore a smile.
Yet hope can turn to be futile
If it rests on grounds that`re sterile
And not tendered with rightful care
Or left alone to its own fare;
Dreams may remain only as dreams
If not propelled with with proper steam,
Hopes for a better tomorrow
Can be the cause of sad sorrow
If not cemented with efforts
Aimed at improving one's own lot.
Hope may just beget illusion
And give rise to dark delusion;
It can`t serve as a prop for long,
Nor does man live on hope alone;
One`s beloved goals to achieve
One does need to roll up the sleeves,
Set one`s hands to relentless toil
And let not one`s chances to spoil
As to make one`s dreams become true
Hope linked with efforts is the clue.