Long Step in Poems
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It wears on you
hot summer heat
still hot at nine PM
just want to stay inside
a hundred and three, a hundred and five
feels like blazes
Lord Almighty how I love the ac
too old to do without it now
actually am drinking water
in excessive heat it quenches that dry thirst
do everything in the morning, early morning
by nine AM before the sun burns hard and savage
Just want to sit in the dark and enjoy cool air
go outside and the summer heat will melt you
like being in a daze, sleepy, unmotivated
day dreaming of blizzards and Canadian arctic blasts
those cozy freezing frost biting winter winds
how you miss them in the hot summer heat
Hot and worn out, wet from sweat
let the shower run cold for fifteen minutes
before you step in, so hot the water in the pipes
way to warm, takes time to turn cold
let the cool water run over your head soaking your hair
onto your face and be absorb by your overheated body
And it is only nine thirty AM
going to be another cruel long hot day in the summer.
On a dead-end street,
At the edge of town;
Sat a broken-down house,
With no other around.
The paint was all faded,
And the windows were cracked.
The rain had poured in,
From the shingles it lacked.
The steps had collapsed,
And the grass overgrown.
When the wind would whip,
You'd hear it's sad moan.
For many long years,
It stood vacant of life.
But in the beginning,
Dwelled husband and wife.
She tended the garden,
While he worked the mines.
Was a quaint little home,
That was surrounded by pines.
When Spring rolled around,
A child was born.
A bouncing baby boy,
With hair of silked corn.
On the following year,
The pair was then blessed;
With a darling sweet girl,
That completed the nest.
Now a family of four,
Their paths had been set;
On a bright shining future,
That none could regret.
It all seemed so perfect,
In this warm cozy den.
The envy of their peers,
Soon fate would step in.
On a chilly Winter day,
Playing hide-and-seek.
Boy fell through the ice,
While crossing the creek.
Several months went by,
But still grieving his death,
Their daughter fell ill;
And drew her last breath.
Thus unable to fathom,
That harsh and cruel fact.
The heartbroken parents,
Made a suicide pact.
In this tragic domain,
They'd no longer reside.
While clutched hand-in-hand,
They hung side-by-side.
Down this cold empty road,
Where no one dare braves.
In the dismal backyard,
Lies four crumbling graves.
I got off the bus after a hard day at work
A storm had knocked out every street light
In the gloom of despair, I saw a shadow lurk
My fear of darkness reached a new height
Two blocks to walk until I'd reach my home
but oh, how my fright was filling me with dread
I suffered from an illness called, Stygian Syndrome
Fear that on a dark night I would end up dead
There's never been an algorithm that's predicted
when I'd be exposed to a scary night such as this
I swore a maledict while my heart was conflicted
wondering why I didn't run. Something was amiss
It seemed as if an evil force was holding me back
from taking a step in the direction I needed to go
I couldn't see or hear anything in a world of black
but sensed something wicked hovered near... a foe
My house was the last one on the dead-end street
Should I try to get there without making a sound,
or should I go the other way? I wanted to retreat
but didn't move before I was knocked to the ground
I fought off a hundred creatures who bit my flesh
Every inch of my body was torn, and I smelled blood
I wished I had the courage and power of Gilgamesh!
But if compared to that hero, I'd label myself a dud
I wiggled my fingers and toes... counted ten and ten
Afraid to move again, I doubled up in a fetal position
Streetlights flickered; I saw I was surrounded by men
When someone yelled, "CUT!" I had a sneaky suspicion
A horror movie being filmed, but how was I to know
that everything was staged on my dead-end street?
I was paid for my realistic acting and used the dough
for a shrink and a weekend at a sanity recovery retreat
Form: Alliteration
A little alliteration by a long shot speaks so loud.
Metaphors muddle my mind
And silly similes stymie the sentence.
A terrible trope takes too much of my time
g Tiberius is my tag and title
My nom de plume is a personal platitude personified
Better *****es badger me with their bared bosoms
A curious cacophony controls my cochlea
Demanding drugs and daffodils
Eventually ephemeral earth will evince my effervescence
Freakin' phantom fear will appear
Had enough, Harry?
Or do you just ejaculate jocularity?
O K - I'll specially spare you the shroud of St. Sebastien
And say Adios, amigo; ta ta to you, see ya, Zebra; good-by, sweety-pie
So long saintly Samuel, take care, Virginia Dare
And that's the way it is, my miz
Amen and au-revoire.
First sky says, Toth faced the reptiles
Just go back and read the tiles
Forever written laid before your eye
The story goes on for miles
Forward to the time of the snake
This is when the story becomes fake
See eye becomes quicker than hand
Now then thee earth really did shake
Ushering the coming of a lamb
This was the time of the Ram
The establishing of the law
A dividing between you and Sam
Now jumping to the time of the fish
The next step in answering your wish
Love each other as you love yourself
Soon they will arise in dish
Heard from the cry of the guns
Entered we have the time of the one
Whosoever can hear me and see me will
Hit the game winning home run grand slam
Tesslynn O’Cull was only 3-years-old,
when they found her body in a grave near Sweet Home.
It was the worst case of child abuse they’d ever seen
thanks to Jesse Compton and methamphetamine.
This beautiful child was tortured to death,
and I vowed that until my very last breath,
I would tell her story so we’d never forget,
for society owes her at least this debt.
Others saw the abuse, yet they did not tell,
and this child’s life was a living hell.
She was shocked, raped and beaten and no one cared,
as her mother watched, Tesslynn sat and stared.
Tesslynn dared not scream or she’d have to pay
when Jesse threw knives and punches her way.
People came and went, but refused to step in,
so high on drugs that it didn’t matter to them.
Stella Kizer and Jesse Compton must pay their dues,
still the story of Tesslynn is now old news,
and though some may forget, I will keep my vow
to keep her memory alive somehow.
There’s a picture of Tesslynn on my office wall,
and at night in my dreams I can hear her call.
As she reaches out from beyond the grave,
I weep for the child that we could not save,
I weep for the child that we could not save…
I'm losing myself on this one, they tell me they want that
old me back but I'm not even sure who he is, its hit &
miss obviously and how ironic is it? So exquisite, how
when it rains it pours these war wounds cut me
deep....I'm good at covering up my own truths so in the
end I'm subject to my own abuse, I need treatment from
me because to be honest that's why I'm single not
because it was them but it actually had everything to do
with me. The first step in rehab is acceptance and I
accept who I appear to be, a broken man internally so
that organ donor, that transfusion was necessary I can
see straight my vision is still blurry but I can't help it at
times when it comes to relationships I'm always in a
hurry even tho I rehearsed to myself be easy, fall back,
take it slow...but Im a cancer I wear my heart on my
sleeve I know but I can't and wont let that part of me go,
to myself I'm still the only one that I have yet to gain the
strength to say NO...
At the bottom of the laundry container
There stood out to me the reason why
Those white socks were so smelly
I couldn't believe my eyes
A dead mouse there among those white socks
With a second look and whiff! Ohhhhh! That whiff!!
Nope!! Only a sock so filthy and caked with dirt
It had gone totally stiff
So much like life is what is contained in the hamper
You can't step in dog poop
Without getting some on your socks
You women probably understand, then some may not because they have not experienced it. Sweaty feet, running around in flip flops or without shoes or both in the same day or maybe two days or three days~~~~End results a job no one wants to tackle!!
Spins as time crawls for a child
Spins as subtle as Mona Lisa smile
Spins as soft rain dancing in wind
Spins as a dreamer dreams on end
Please stop the world I'm falling off
grasp my hand and pull me back
Help me up, dust me off
point the way, get me on track
I trod the beaten path
I step in steps of those before
I hold my tongue and swallow my wrath
I bury my past and my pain ignore
Nasty is the taste of sin
shallow shines pride
Smile for the world is in need of friends
with faith life abides
Spins like a twirling top
Spins for it cannot stop
Spins this old world whirls
Spins pull back then forward hurl
Mother, you became an angel
when I was just a small boy
I was then told that He calls
good people unto Him
sooner than the others
I did not then understand why?
At that moment of time
I acted brave and, could not cry
and, in fact, tried to console others
on your going away
but little did I know that
I would myself miss the need
of your protective love, forever,
even up to this day.
Since then, I have yearned
all my life for your love
for not another’s mother
had the capacity to give to me
all she gave to her own, very own
as I was another.
At each step in life I needed
to share my travails, and
to just put my head in your lap
to forget all my worries
to grow strong and face
all adversities with a smile
with courage, derived from your love
but alas, I did not receive
that much support from any else
as I would have had, from you.
Since then, having constantly felt
the need of your love
I have cried for you
so many times, and have mourned
your going away, each such time.
With time, I am more at peace,
as from deep inside, I begin to feel that
you do protect me, from far above
with your warm glow, at nights
along with the twinkling stars
in the otherwise dark canvas
for you do realize it to be necessary
to fill up the huge void left in my heart
that continues to linger, with your going away.
Date: 26.7.2014
Where the Foxes Wander
Through the mist of dandelion seeds
That float across the dew filled field
The dancing seeds part majestically
The grass bends the stalks do yield
His nose in the air,
Between the mist of seeds
Eyes darting left and right
Taking in the field of weeds
Stepping forward cautiously
One step in front of the other
Its then another fox appears
A vixen with cubs - a mother.
The fox runs forward not looking back
The mother nips at the cubs
They lie still, hidden they think
The fox returns and noses rub.
He leads the way through open space
Fox, vixen, and offspring
To the chicken run next door
But should I do anything?
The large brown hens pecking dirt
The fox his eye on one
The cockerel then starts to crow
The sly fox is now undone.
© GG 17/06/2013