Long Thumbs Poems
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Me and the missus live in decent
sturdy accommodations (formerly
Schwenksville Elementary School
ofttimes referred to as prison,
and manager as the de facto warden),
albeit not so shabby nor chic low income
quite modest (rather unmatchable cost wise)
low slung building we rent,
for mere dime a dozen
pennies on the dollar,
which facility lacks no shortage
of gossip mongers
with mail delivery major event
whereby many old people smelling of unguent
housing faux superman
thumping flabby chests nsync
with hooking thumbs around
suspenders feigning to be affluent,
and self important as secret double agent
yeah, minus the countless snitches,
livingsocial buzzfeeding rumors
outside our one bedroom apartment
at Highland Manor ranks
as satisfactory ascent
to appease our taste,
and general environmental ambient
aspects compared to other
(mice and roach infested)
housing previous situations of ours
so, despite most every nosy, ancient
snooty, hoity toity...tenant,
particularly one butch,
cock eyed louey, facial accent
a perfect spectacle for circus big-tent
single bucked sharp front tooth
sparkles, mocks, glistens...
as if brushed with Pepsodent
of course displayed "FAKE"
seventh heaven-sent
friendliness, when poor us
being penniless with just tencent
copper piece experienced warm welcome
short time after moving here
(five plus years since July 1st 2022),
but demeanor thereafter went
postal stamping like the dickens
as if me an unrepentant
jokester, nonetheless yours truly minds
against hateful words adamant
lee averse to cast aspersions,
cuz a friendly gesture linkedin
preference to be cogent practicing
what this atheist doth silent
lee preach, sans attempt tubby tolerant
in the face of someone belligerent
attentive to credo, dogma, ethos
while alive in world be tolerant
of others, whether he/ she wuzzent
pleasant recalling days of yore,
I felt disgusted when hell-bent
to hurl expletives (adding insult to injury)
if bad mouthed me, thus
object lesson not requiring fervent
fanatical religious fervor
improving health of Clark Kent.
Why fear a future not foreseeable?
Would this question that doubts abrade,
remain unanswered without curiosity?
I'd be left with a regret as insurmountable
as guilt itself: what gains would I have made,
if I had held back and ignored this possibility?
A long time ago, happiness was abundant not letting shadows loom,
and time seemed an eternity held into my grasp before tragedy befell;
I had no doubtful thoughts or gloomy prophecies foretelling doom...
or pondered about a catastrophe and be afraid of it: all was well.
They should have seen me running through fields
of poppies and dandelions overlooked by chestnut
trees and with excited eyes and tanned cheeks...
I searched for a stream to quench my thirst!
There, atop the Paternio Mountain, cliffs plunge
into the picturesque valley below...any soul
would be amazed and not expunge
this sight from the awesomeness of the boulders!
There, nobody thinks of mundane things while taking a stroll,
but admire that wild rose lulled to sleep by blades of grass!
Would anybody pick it and let its loveliness
vanish from the meadow's vastness?
Whom this beautiful rose will be tempting:
that lover driving back home who thinks of his darling?
Why fear a future which hasn't come yet?
Does the suffering of others make me reflect
on middle life? Can I forget my share of sorrows?
Do I realize that my errors were paramount?
Ah, time is too swift in its conquest of days!
I mourn my defeats and not take into account
the delight of my little triumphs
that are imprinted on my thumbs!
Written on 5/19/ 2018
Theme: Over the hill and far away
Entered in Broken Wings contest,
“ Let Your Pen Drip “
Most often, I would affectionately ponder and recall how magical times were
in our farmhouse— daisies, herbs, and even pebbles glossed by the amber of sunlight, while Grandma would ramble about compassion or patience in times when difficulties seemed to overwhelm my very instinct ;
her fingers curling through my youthful thumbs: yet at 21, the rebel in me defied all stories on kindness, her croons entering the anvil then out the other ear, to whiff away in autumn’s breeze...As years rolled on, Grams’ promptings built my will-- buttressed my days, my adult days through crossways of doubt.
Relishing how gentle her laughter was, our moments together make it harder now in spaces of my heart as I lay daisies on her crypt. I know, I know... I weep.
9/29/2018
For Silent One: Lines Of Ten That Remind You What It Was Like Back Then Contest
Her father was a gardener his shoes were never clean
They were always brown and dirty…which helped his thumbs stay green.
She remembers watching him with his plants…she remembers being amused
Sometimes all she saw of him was the bottom of his shoes.
He could grow anything he put his mind to…flowers…vegetables…fruits…
and as each new growing season awakened he’d slip on his old boots.
She asked him once why wear those old shoes…why not get something new…
He smiled and said, “Their comfortable and I trust them.”
and she thought…they’re just like you.
She was cleaning out his workroom the summer after he died…
deciding what to keep and what to lose…
when in the corner where he always left them…
she saw her dad’s old shoes.
She smiled, picked them up, held them close…
and when she lifted them…some dirt
from the bottom of her father’s shoes
had rubbed off on her shirt.
She keeps his old shoes as a reminder…
of a father who was wise and gentle and kind
and every time she holds them
she thinks of the footprints he left behind.
Old John's birthday was fast approaching, he'd be seventy-two
And his family asked him nicely what he would like to do
"Do you fancy a nice picnic or sightseeing on a train?"
"No thanks" said Old John "I'd like to wing walk on a plane ".
His family thought he was joking, in fun they all did mock
They said "It will be freezing, and you might die of shock"
He said" I have no fear, and everything will be just fine
I found it on a website, and I've booked it on the line".
His family they were mortified and thought that he was joking
But one week from today Old John he'll be high flying
A week later at the airfield Old John was quite ecstatic
His family on the other hand were all starting to panic.
He had his safety briefing and then put on all his gear
Now he was raring to go, Old John he showed no fear
He climbed up onto the wing and then he got strapped in
The pilot gave him the thumbs up and soon they were flying.
Up into the air now, they banked to the left and right
His family they all agreed it was one awesome sight
The pilot signalled to Old John, it was the grand finale
This is what Old John had wanted all his family to see.
The plane it dived then looped the loop, it was incredible to see
Old John was already thinking of what his next stunt could be
The plane then landed safely his family they were all so proud
Old Johns ears were still ringing; the wind had been so loud.
He'd felt the cold biting wind pressing hard against his face
Jokingly he asked his family if it was still in one place
His wife she then kissed him and asked, "How do you feel"?
Old John said, "I'm starving now, I'm ready for a big meal".
His son then asked him, what his next bold venture would be
Old John laughed out loudly and said "A shark cage in the sea
My life I see as a book with pages that are not written yet
I always confront my fears or there will be blank pages of regret".
I took your name
And held it between my hands
Thumbs on the soft vowels
Fingers braced against the hard consonants
At first it resisted…
A word is trained to stand upright
To behave…to mean
But grief is stronger than meaning
I squeezed
The letters bent
The silent spaces gave way
From the seams of the syllables
Tears slipped free…
Clear and unpunctuated
Too honest for grammar
They fell onto the page
Where dates usually go
Where facts pretend they can hold a life
I kept pressing
Until your name was no longer pronounceable
Until it was only wet and warm
And shaped like remembering
What was left in my hands
Couldn’t be spoken
But it could be kept
I set it down gently
And let the page dry around it
That’s how I learned…
Some names don’t survive being said
But they live forever
In how they made us weep
There is no point
If you have ‘been there, done that’
Unless you announce so loudly
On social sites
Show the proof of
The ‘Happy Family’ moments
You see, enjoying those moments
At that very instance
Is secondary
It is all about looking ahead
Thinking of the future
And this is just the beginning
Because now you
Have to check, every now and then
Those comments
Of your friends
Their mushy remarks
‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’
Literally dripping their love for you
These bring back the twinkle in your
Sleep deprived eyes
And instantly uplift
Your travel weary selves
If you do not get a response
From someone specific
And you want to know
Whether he is dead or alive
All you have to do is
‘Poke’ him
His reaction, a ‘thumbs up’ will
Give you the same satisfaction
As a complete meal on a hungry stomach
And your daughter will tell you
‘Now, it has all been worth it’
Your ‘Thank you’ replies
To hundreds such comments
Are bound to keep you busy
For weeks to come
So much for our craving
For some ‘social recognition’
If not in the real world
Then at least in the virtual one
Where no great achievements
Are needed to get those
‘Rewarding’ comments
I decided to write a special dedication
Holding her in my arms was soothing as meditation
I met her as a freshman
Her eyed dyed with dryness
Palm to palm
I squeezed tightly, just so we could get by stress
Watched you laugh as I pressed my thumbs
Up against your chubby gums
And even as you were pouting
Your innocence stretched a smile
And as you lay across my chest
I soon forgot the happiness I so longed for as a child
And now I miss you for miles
But if you could just find your way home
You wouldn’t be so lost and alone
If you could just find your way home
We wouldn’t be so lost and alone
I write so much better when it’s dim
Sorrow leaks from this romantic film
Into your eyes
I’ll charm your lips and wipe away your tears
Smile whenever your whispers near my ears
And I wish I could take your pain away
I miss you even more and that’s a shame to say
I’m lonely and on the inside I’m dying
Sometimes I wonder if I should keep trying
In search for happiness
Maybe I’ll laugh for death
I turn up liquor
Hoping that it’ll absolve my problems quicker
Not much of an alcoholic
So I don’t exactly know what one would call it
I’m lost and alone
But still wondering when you’ll find your way home
Witches in my gardens, blessing them.
Using their notoriously generous green thumbs to help repot the plants snatched out by gray wind yesterday.
Witches, welcome! So grateful you have arrived!
Thank you for showing me the old one’s ways to grow the best thyme and basil possible.
The magic you bestow upon my garden, humbles me, and my daughters, and my daughters’ daughters.
To no one do harm, your motto, your creed. I know you in no way resemble the tales of
Witches in faerie tales, rather, mother earth faeries who got a bad rap because you followed
Your dreams and went your own ways in a patriarchal society. Scaring women who were afraid of your
Unseemly ways.
I am honored you chose my garden, bestowing your experience and your wizen ways
Upon my plants. Thank you, Witch sisters! Welcome!
Hear, dear Lord*, my prayer for Joyce…
Always uplift her active poise,
Protect her from frustration’s noise;
Propel her moves with smart choice…
Yes, make her constantly rejoice!
Beautify her life with Your grace
In her victorious lady-race;
Revitalize her senior pace…
Through Your grand, magnificent ways.
Hold her up for more fruitful days…
Directing her toward glorious place
As she gives You honor and praise
Yearning for favor midst delays.
Pave for her another great road
Ready to greet her success-load
Affirming her with thumbs-up code
“You’ve fulfilled works in well-done mode.”
Extend to her Your wisdom goad
Revealing chance-brands, best and broad!
Fortify her with gladness’ might
Order her steps upward peace-height
Rekindle her faith of heaven’s light!
Joys* for her, keep on bestowing…
Optimize her blessings’ flowing
Yet guard her against stress-blowing;
Cheer her for triumphant growing
Empower her healthy glowing!!!
*Psalm 32:11 Be glad in the LORD, and rejoice, ye righteous: and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart.
April 17, 2018
8th place, "Happy 100th Birthday" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire; judged on 4/22/2018.