Long Tens Poems
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During lunch I announced when I retire I am going to go to jail.
What?
Jail, I repeated. I will rob a bank or something.
The three others laughed.
Think about it, I told them. How much do nursing homes cost?
They started to think about it and discussed how much they
Were already paying for their own mothers
$4,500 a month $8,000 a month, $10,000 a month.
Jail is free right? To the prisoner anyway, not to the rest of us.
I could play cards, make lots of new friends, and maybe write poetry
New story ideas I’ll bet, maybe some really juicy new story ideas!
My family would save thousands of dollars, maybe even tens of thousands
Of dollars.
How would you get in? I would rob a bank, I told them. No one laughed.
They were thinking…..
Then all three burst out laughing.
I could! I insisted, convincing no one, not even myself.
Small Packages
She was so cute.
Standing in the check-out line
Pretty dark golden-brown skin
Five foot tall? Not even that, I thought
Seventy years old? Maybe more
High top laced black shoes,
Black stockings and skirt
Black check with gold stripe skirt –
Gold quilted jacket topped with a
Red and gold sun hat -- brim turned downward
Big smile, big glasses and soft voice
Gentle and kindness exuded
She was standing there to be checked out
Her taupe vinyl purse was lying in the grocery cart
The purse didn’t fit the image. I wanted to say,
“Ma’am, you need to watch your purse:”
That is until I saw her open her jacket right side.-
I saw that she had on a jumper when
She lifted her right hand and placed inside the jumper top
“What is she doing?” I wondered
Aha! From somewhere – I don’t know where –
She pulled out a small unwrapped package secured with rubber bands.
It was time to pay for her merchandise
“Eight dollars and twenty-three cents,” the clerk said;
Very carefully, the elderly lady unfolded her fives that were together
Then, she unfolded her ones that were together
And from a separate pocket she counted out the change.
I could tell she had tens folded together and
Twenties folded together – all denominations separate;
It looked like her important cards were in the packet with the bills,
“You sure are organized,” I said.
“Things don’t go far now days,” she said,
Smiling as she placed her small rubber-band secured bundle
Back into “the someplace” inside her jumper top,
Such a complete little package--
Decoy and all
-Evelyn Pearl Carpenter Anderson
April 10, 2014
Memorial Day 2025
Soon Memorial day will be upon us once more,
And unhappy memories of the past will be excavated again.
My younger Brother was a highly decorated soldier
rising to the rank of Master Sergeant in his twenty-three years.
He did four tours in Vietnam and each time he came home
I could see a change. After he retired he just drove away
from the house one evening and never returned. For thirty
years family searched the internet, contacted the Army and once
after a family death we had to send our letters to them
and they in turn forwarded them to him for his signature.
We had no family problems or ill will at all. He abandoned
his family and his four children also. He just chose to
live alone for whatever reason. Only God knows why.
Another brother who had cancer couldn’t sleep one night
and thought he’d search one last time. He found his name
in the obits where he had died that week and was in a
mortuary in Texas. I contacted them and was told
he had a power of attorney and would give her my number.
She did call and I assured her that we wanted nothing that he had,
Just his ashes to bring home to the family plot. She first
said it was a go. We made plans to leave the next morning
but she called back and said after talking to her man he said
no and ditched his phone. She said his wishes were to be cremated
and ashes scattered on another soldiers grave.
I had shadowboxes made for his children as well as self.
But I tell myself there are tens of thousands of cases like this
or worse. I don’t know why things were like they were. War is
about self preservation. A soldier can’t undo, or unsee, or forget
the stench of war. They do the things they’re told to do in
defense of this great country. This Memorial day I will be
mindful, That “all gave some, Some gave all.”
Tom
I always considered you littered my home,
Small knickknacks adorning overcrowded shelves.
The marble statues you bought from lovely Rome,
I leave them there, a memory of ourselves.
And in gay Paris, you just went mad with joy
Those miniatures saucers, jugs and a vase,
Insisting each was her special lovely toy,
Dainty trivialities, there's no more space.
But without Limoges, can one live a true life?
She packed them carefully thus to take back home.
Porcelain I had to pay for my dear wife,
How tired I was, each elegant shop to roam.
Such charms, rings, bracelets, miniature houses
Lured by magnetic charms, earrings and pendants,
From Upim*, Milan she bought tens of blouses
At Lafayette, I waited in attendance.
She's left me with all these little ornaments
Beautiful up to a point I must admit;
Shall I cherish them for what each represents?
Give to charity or leave them in my writ?
NB Upim is a superstore in Italy.
Wag, gaw, art, rat, tar, tea, eat, ate
An avid scrabble player, I can see two or three words
Simultaneously now.
I see mthabta and think bathmat.
I have received best game of the week
For three years worth of weeks.
I do not say this as a brag.
My point is that I like word games.
WoKn TWha I mean?
If I could quit competing I would, but there is this
competition maniac inside me that will not let me stop.
Mmtyxad excites me because it has big-point letters.
Q and J are both worth ten points as is Z
But if it is toward the end of a game you will
probably be stuck with them.
Although ZA and JO and QI are scrabble words.
I am excited by the strategies I can use too.
I have not played hundreds of word games.
I have not played thousands of word games.
I have played tens of thousands of word games.
Online within the last four years. Bbtedqs.
Just one of my little compulsions.
Suppose you could remember
every dream you've ever dreamt:
each with daylight clarity and as
real as the breaths you take.
Each dream would be like a little life,
feeling neither birth nor death, you are--
you exist in that dream, in that little life,
then again in another, and so on till
the dreams are myriad, in thousands
and tens of thousands, almost
countless they would seem:
the lost dreams you've had-- if only
you could have remembered....
So could not a life, any life be so?
Just a single dream amidst a waterfall
of dreams, cascading through time,
your soul hopping from one to the next.
Each dream a life, each life a dream.
Oh how the King has loved you
your beauty is rare
and your fealty unsurpassed
let us traverse the garden meadows
in the mountains along the foraged trails
alongside the thickets into the redwood groves
I will call you to my side
there always to be present with me
the bride price was costly , a kings ransom
but I have redeemed you for myself
no others shall have you , I have made you mine
I have loved you with an everlasting love
with the promise I have given you
that your confidence may rest in my word
none in a thousand , one in tens of thousands
but you are beyond price, inestimable your value
have been foreordained to be for me
hand chosen by my own father
Where justice has met compassion
power has betrothed meekness
wisdom has married foresight
and love gives birth to truth
will that these qualities multiply
for these are the virtues
that will be the healing of the nations
All that is mine , my gifts for you
born of a love incomparable
even as my father has given me
I will make your joy full
and grant the desires of your heart
though you have been terrified
you shall rest in my security forever
remain on the watch
for I will show you
the things that yet must come to pass
for I watch over you
will shield you and guide
you into all the truth
amen , come Lord Jesus
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C. Michael Miller via Duboff Law Group LLC
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From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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Camp E-How-Kee.
?
Autoplay
Camp E-How-Kee
as a child
had it's dark side as well.
Paul Butler is doing life
for robbery
i know.
He was black and seemed
like a nice kid back then,
he was the token
in our small group of whites
with him it numbered ten.
Fat Jack..Jack Thomas
died
in Florida state prison.
George Walker abused by
his father,
Sexually, psychologically and
physically life a living hell.
kicked in the face by Chief Snell.
He may have weighted
seventy pounds soaking wet
five foot one perhaps.
While Chief Snell,
wearing size thirteen and standing
six foot eleven in bare socks.
Kicked him in his face one early morn.
George in and out prison as well
perhaps by now, 'maybe dead.
He had courage.
Robert Sykes, whom wet the bed
every night.
Lord only knows,
the demons and monsters,
inside of his head.
The abuse that he suffered at home
was his fault we all now know
but a child as well.
is he alive..Amen.
The boy with the epileptic seizures
so bad
I remember his name..
as Dwayne Robinson..he shook and he
screamed all night..
putting the pillow over his head.
While the counselor poured buckets
of cold water on him.
Screaming be quite.
where was 'God'..then..
Must I go on..yes I will.
All of us between eleven and twelve.
Maybe one was thirteen..
mighty frontiersman were we.
Angels, were we heavens know, 'no.
being allowed to use axes
and draw knives
we kept pocket knives to do our work.
And Wally Otting was like Frank...
Michael Berro...
none thinking back then were like I..
When it got to bad
I would take most away in the middle
of the night to escape..
what we thought we escaped when it was
we left our homes.
Most would not listen and then get caught
I always made it back home fifty miles
of eating berries or nothing at all..
just to be sent back again.
Delila after dark..this was then...
you were a tender Ronnie and
I was a boy of twelve..with no
moss or beard..
and my parts even then were coveted
by others as well..
This is my confession for them..
Donna Black...H.C.S.D.
Doing this to us was what..........and
where is Gary Anderson?
What could a child, 'i have done back then
but i tried, as
One group of five made up of tens.
Arming teachers
to prevent assault rifle tragedies
in schools
Is like arming preachers
to prevent epic sins and unorthodox errors
in church.
Are we teaching peace
and restorative justice
or war-mongering
and retributive injustice?
More hate
and fear
and anger?
Or a touch of love
and kindness
and cooperative consciousness,
mindfulness?
More climate pathologies
or finally some climates
of multiculturing health?
How to evaporate promising youth
or how to facilitate resonant resilience
of youth through WiseElders
mentoring GoldenRules?
Just because Trump
does not believe in No Gun Zones
does not discourage me
from continuing to believe
that Earth did rather well as a No Gun Zone
for several tens of thousands of years
before we came along,
adding desecrating gunpowders
and militarized self-righteous assaults
with deadly automated weapons
to Her sacred mix.
Every single day, tens of thousands depend on me.
I have more responsibility than you could ever know.
I’m available day and night, but I’m rarely free.
I enjoy what I do because I’m always on the go.
I’m almost always up, and I hardly every stop,
But one in awhile, I get into a real jam.
If you get angry because I’m late, don’t blow you top.
There are things I can’t control; Who do you think I am?
I’ve been doing my job for over a hundred years straight
With only a few days off due to strikes or bad weather.
During the rush hours, have a little patience and wait.
Whether local or express, I enjoy our travels together.