Long Time to kill Poems
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A deer hunter’s daughter
#1
She illuminates the clock with her laughter,
loves her instagram her tic toc and her saunter,
she goes nowhere near disaster,
she’s got no ear for fear,
no hard summer rain,
no pain when she goes in disaster mode,
she is poetry and prose,
she loves her repose,
and thereafter,
she’s got innocent innocent eyes my Bess,
she’s my daughter.
We go strolling together,
we are bonded,
we have strong hands that feed us,
She forgives me,
I believe her.
Rainy days come, we sit on the sofa,
we amuse ourselves with table tennis,
we take our anoraks and run,
her wild loose hair moist,
to the God’s I would offer,
a sacred deer because we suffer,
all I have is her and she has me,
and me is all she knows,
my big brown eyes,
as we rise together and fall,
to me she’s my all.
We go strolling together,
we are bonded,
we have warm hearts inside us,
She forgives me,
I deliver,
I believe her. ??
#2
She goes strolling through the park,
it’s late in the afternoon,
there’s crescent silver moon,
her heart is on her eyes,
pale blue eyes of summer,
how I ‘d wish I ‘d have her.
She wears a wide brimmed hat,
she has flowers in her hands,
fingers that are magic wands,
a beautiful scarf on her neck,
she holds a candlestick,
her name is Bess and she is blessed,
how I ‘d wish I ‘d posses her.
The deer run scared,
This I can’t bear,
Their eyes are pools of sorrow,
their fear is in her ears,
they are ringing,
why dad?
why?
I can have a perfect 10 in anything I do,
I can paint the sky blue
and they ‘ll tell me bravo sweet princess,
it is my essence,
but when their blood spills,
I can’t come to their defence.
I killed a baldy,
now she will scold me.
#3
Don’t scold me,
I killed life,
now hold me,
it’s sunrise time in the forest,
deer drink their mother’s
milk,
I am honest,
it’s a sight to behold.
My pain is manifold,
and many a time
he comes to feel alive
and alive he can be
next to me
for I am his oblivion,
his warm garment
his heart of gold.
I shoot an arrow,
I aim and fire,
I live with little
and they don’t mind,
they are many,
and I have plenty
of time to kill,
and I don’t do it for the thrill,
it makes sense,
and the benefits are immense,
she plays the music I wan’t to hear,
she is my deer.
It wasn’t the life she wanted.
This life drained the light from her eyes,
Turning them to deep gray circles,
Her voice lost its tone,
She lost herself.
Mothering was not a part of the plan.
She was supposed to get out.
Out of the town,
Out of the house,
Out of the state,
Go to school,
Go to college,
Go to work.
Grab the job of her dreams by the reigns,
Ride it into the fantastically detailed future
That she’d been planning since the 6th grade.
A home,
A steadfast group of friends,
Maybe a dog.
But not a kid.
Not a husband.
This was not the plan.
Over the years, she learned to pretend,
If not for the kids, for herself,
For the husband,
That she was happy.
Trapped in this provincial life,
She was happy.
Wake up at 7 a.m.,
Make the bed,
Walk downstairs,
Make coffee,
Make breakfast,
Remake the bed that you forgot to make.
Wake the kids,
Get them ready for school,
Get the keys,
Get in the car,
Get on the road.
Go home.
Sleep because you can never sleep at night,
Trapped in the spiraling paradox
That prances in your mind,
Telling you that this is not your life.
It shouldn’t be.
It can’t be.
At 3:00 p.m.,
Get back in the car,
Get the kids from school,
Get the kids back home,
Get back on the road,
Resist the urge to keep driving
Past the house, into the night,
Never to be seen again.
Resist the urge.
Because you have to.
At 10:00 p.m.,
Make sure the kids are in bed,
Make sure the lights are dimmed,
Make sure the stove and oven are turned off,
Go to your room,
Your husband won’t be home yet,
Not for another 2 hours.
You’ve got time to kill.
Read a book,
Look for flights,
Watch a show,
Cry into your pillow,
Because no one has given you their shoulder
For a very, very long time.
Husband comes home at 12:00 a.m.,
He takes a shower,
Crawls into bed next to you,
You exchange pleasantries,
He turns off the bedside lamp,
Within minutes, he’s asleep.
What to do tonight?
Another successful day,
Set off without a hitch.
Walk back downstairs,
Fold the hampers of laundry,
It’s 3:00 a.m. now,
The kids will be up in 4 hours.
You’ve got time to kill.
Maybe this time,
You and time can trade places.
Maybe this time,
You can keep driving.
Maybe this time,
You can be free.
Maybe, but not today.
I burrow in silence locked in the depths of a grave.
I need no more guidance as I dwell in my hollow cave.
Unknown whispers…they creek and moan and I am left breathless
trying to pick up the pieces of my last transgression. I’ve been here before. I’ve gained and I’ve lost and somewhere in between I remain
unstable. I want to dig a deep hole to bury my head. It would be
covered in soil and would reek of regret.
Above the grass yet below the trees I live in a cavern made of clay and hard stone. It shadows each memory and releases all the reasons
why I hate myself. Please...no more thinking about the reasons I
need to stay alive. I ask the cold stone why I am left to
starve in such darkness made by my own hands. He tells me I forgot
how to be sane and my mania needed to take a break. I created a
world of flashbacks leading to my miserable life. Each
flashback contains less joy and each time of joy makes me shutter
in ugliness. I am undeserving of such things.
Under the brink of my life lies understanding of why I have been abandoned by everyone I know. They all say I am worthless and mean
nothing to them. I agreed with them and left as soon as the twilight hit midnight and before the dew spread across the land. I cry
out to the constellations and ask for forgiveness of my
mistakes made intentionally. I am nothing but a sorry cause ready
to take flight on top of a black dove. White doves are pure and innocent. Black doves are a reflection of my poor soul. I have seen the depth of this
cavern for so long I think I am turning into a man without
a thought. No eyes to see inside a home of obscurity. Murky and
dusty I feel so alone that I wish to breathe no more. It’s so stuffy in the
shadows. The fog outside tries to shield me from the bitterness of my resentments, but it carries not enough strength to achieve such a goal.
I have nothing more to give and no more reasons to live.
I have so much to forgive and please one more sedative.
I have no more lies to spill and no more time to kill.
I have no more cries to thrill and no more rhyme to quill.
-there is no more hope inside your soul when you’re a caveman.
Caves Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Date Written: August 3, 2016
Yolanda?
You are a stranger,
weaker than our strength,
we are too proud for our scientific breakthroughs,
you are softer than a cotton ball,
more delicate than a tamed sheep,
as passive as the most beautiful nature,
we really thought of you about that,
and we abused you,
deforested, polluted, and raped your royal environment relentlessly,
still you managed to accommodate our bulgar display of shameful disrespect,
no matter what we do,
you just shed tears to appease our insatiable greed.
But our wickedness is fast spreading like contagious disease,
giving you so much pain,
it irked you violently,
the irritation reached the point beyond your capacity of toleration,
you gathered strength,
something has to be done to cure and contain the bacteria of destructiveness that contaminated the humanity.
Time has come,
you stood up and cried no more,
the tears in your eyes turned into unthinkable anger,
unleashing the wrath beyond human imagination,
the strength of the wind you brought,
blew us like little match sticks,
our coconut plantations totally uprooted,
devastated our homes,
the havoc that you wrought were more powerful than our nuclear inventions,
it destroyed our aspirations,
everything around us turned into a terrifying nightmare,
even our strongest technological materials turned into pieces of garbages,
they could not even stand against your prowess,
the height of the tidal waves you brought,
swept us into the sea like dusts,
flattened our communities into primordial dump site,
you wiped our cities and homes out,
along with our dreams,
washed our modern structures out like pieces of torn papers,
even our scientific inventions could not stop your rage.
Yolanda?
Pretending to be weaker,
who dine and sleep with us,
actually a mass murderer,
just looking for the right time to kill us all,
and leaving thousand of dead souls litter the streets.
But,
Yolanda,
you are a respectable teacher,
the lesson you taught,
though very painful,
yet worth learning from it,
we realize that we are just humans,
abusive humans whose capacity is nothing compared with the magnitude of your strength,
and we learn to humble ourselves before you.
Peace and Love!
We used to say
Us children
of the Golden Bay
We said it
and believed it too
The flower power
we held onto
Love beads,
sunshine
Ocean breeze
Beneath the
eucalyptus trees
But peace cannot prevail when one must defend it's
homeland and love for freedom when attacked brutally.
My prayer is that the likes of evil dictators who would
destroy peace, the embodiment of evil themselves
would cease.
God, please bless the Ukrainian people. Deliver them &
the world from the wicked. No flower power can ever
prevail with love against such hatred and murderous evil.
No power on earth can stop the wickedness unless Heaven
intercedes by the power of the Living God.
Intercede Lord I pray. Amen.
"3 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: 2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; 4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing 6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace." ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 King James Version
While we wait
For the moment
When the prayer is answered
When our heart is dancing
When our love is awakened
By the power of His grace
His gift, His precious assurance
That we have been saved
And our home in heaven awaits us
While we wonder
For the time
When the light will shine
When our hope will delight
When our joy will inspire
By the authority of a love
More powerful than any other
Filled with the beauty, the hues
Of a melody, a truth so sweet
As our Savior, we wait to meet
While we wait
For the day
When the praise is swaying,
Twirling with the sun and rain
Leaping for joy, abounding thanks
Beautiful promises opening the gates
As the light pours out on our dawn
Lifting hearts, enlivening souls
With the glory from a King
Who breathes out love and inhales
The sweetness of humility
While we wonder
When time will bring out
The peace of a moment
Still as the sun, silent as the moon
More graceful than the wind
More alive than any dream
We await the twinkling when we see
The One who will come for you and me
If we simply believe….
While we wait…
He continues to save
Every heart who prays
For His saving grace to make a way
Where there has been no way
Where there has been no faith
Where there has been no praise
He continues to save…
With love that is His plan
For bringing God to every man!
Ecclesiastes 3
King James Version
1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
5/30/22
So what's the difference between loving someone and being in love
Could it be that love is just another mystery best left to detectives
I'm a detective myself but I stay away from crime scenes
It's reality and fantasy that puzzles me
Is it a reality that I could be in love
I feel it could be so
but the radar is a half stone throw away
from falling on me
I guess I'll just simply call it love
I know it sounds far-fetched, it seems way too distant
way too mis-worded
Guess love has two parts; is the barrier broken
What step do I lie in
I've only pushed my way through a wall
finding myself now in an enclosed cave
If I walk in a straight line, I pray I won't be crushed
Sounds simple enough because I'd do anything
I'd do anything to keep the current status I've established
I've made a name for myself in a different heart
My name was never written on mine
A vulture could own it when I'm finished
My uses for it wouldn't be bothered anymore
I need it now, as a gift; it's already branded
Tied to a string, engraved in stone
Etched with a verse of love
Invincible, unrestricted, indestructible, immobile
Though it's still miles away from where I sit here today
There's still time to kill; two years worth without a future
Only because I'm not thinking about it now; no not now
My thoughts are elsewhere this day
Because my world has been spinning backwards since
Spinning backwards since this situation has turned
this old world upside down
Spinning backwards since I'm in love with the moments
Spinning backwards since I've said those words
Spinning backwards since she said forever and always
Spinning backwards since I replied always and forever
Spinning backwards just because she's proved to be
what I wished for in my daydreams
Spinning backwards since...
spinning backwards since...
spinning backwards since...
Spinning backwards since I wish forever was long enough
to keep her within the boundaries of my loving embrace
Spinning backwards since everything, everything finally makes sense
Spinning backwards since we both declare that we are everything
another world to explore, to each other
Sunlight at an angle dancing through colored leaves
Cool nights to snuggle beneath the sheets; warm days of ease
Last of gardens harvest; goodbye to summer's bees
Joyful time fo harvest soon days a breeze
Pumpkins, winter squash, turnips, and peas
Food in bounty stored away for many days
Christmas will be upon us in just a very few days
The yard will have to be raked again and again to rid of leaves
Those garden vegetables will stored and put aside a cooking of peas
For right after Christmas comes New Years Day's fare with ease
The howling winds will blow and it won't be just a breeze
But now all the bugs have disappeared_ gone are the bees
On New Year"s Day we will have those delicious peas
We will float into spring with all ease
On the day we will not have to worry with yellow jackets or bees
As the nights grow longer and shorter the winter days
Those indominable buds show forth on the trees and soon leaves
March will come in bringing its strong breeze
Joy, oh!. joy and joy again with spring's green leaves
Just lying around in the hammock with all this ease
Newly hatched from hiding places comes those bees
Soft and gentle comes a blowing spring's warm breeze
In the newly planted garden_those early June peas
These wonderful times _joy of longer days
These times in life are just fun and a wonderful breeze
Then summer comes with the picking, shelling, and freezing peas
But there is one less chore now for there is no raking leaves
Out in the garden and in Pampas Grass thick with those bees
These times are wonderful long sunny days
Afternoons in the lazy hammock oh! what ease
How thankful that we have those great peas
Even if the pollen draws those hungry stinging bees
Summer still has lazy days with ease
Soon those longer sunlight hours sunny sunny days
Begins to slowly fade then the change in those leaves
From the west and north come a much drier breeze
Old man winter slips in with ease, now we'll eat those dry peas
Blow wind with swift breeze, time to kill all lingering bees
By th warm fire spend our days, soon snow covers all those leaves
Inspired by Ryan Wheeler's storyline in Episode 10: Traveling Alone, Season 2 of "Kingdom". It's MMA fighting in action. Ryan Wheeler is portrayed by the exceptional Matt Lauria.
Don't let the demons win. You can be a fighter. But, keep the violence to the cage, like the professionals do.
Cage fighter rules
By Michelle Morris
03/08/2023
Get into the cage
Violence is the business
Cage fighter rules
Not a place for innocents
Destroyer across my chest
Tattoos mark my skin
Remind you of my power
The glory of my winning
Cage fighting match
Violence wins tonight
I'm still the champion
No one takes my title
Here it is so simple
Fighting with the rules
It's outside where it's brutal
The world has a special cruelty
Where life is never fair
And emotions kill you slowly
You long to walk away
From everything that's normal
Keep the demons under wraps
Never let them win
Keep the violence in the cage
Where we're the professionals
Get out of the cage
Time to face the world
Deal with everybody
Denial and atonement
We all travel alone
Even when we're in a pack
We all fight our own demons
No one can truly have our back
Can you leave the cage?
Will the cage ever leave you?
Only you can walk this journey
Be a fighter for your truth
Your heart and soul need light
Your body and mind need peace
Time to kill your dad
And give him sweet release
The guilt will weigh on you
But it's his wish to leave his prison
His body that is broken
His mind that's anxiety ridden
Get into the cage
It's where you feel at home
Even though you hate it
Being a fighter is all you know
This cage is your own prison
This cage is your own Hell
This cage is your own Heaven
This cage is freedom's bell
Get into the cage
Violence is the business
Cage fighter rules
Not a place for innocents
Destroyer across my chest
Tattoos mark my skin
Remind you of my power
The glory of my winning
Cage fighting match
Violence wins tonight
I'm still the champion
No one takes my title
© Michelle Morris, 2023
It was a Saturday, October that the world was standing still,
raining like you won’t believe and all this idle time to kill.
It’s in between the seasons now the ‘granny’ has been won,
and the cricket’s still two weeks away - so how do I have fun?
Especially seeing that the netball club is on their poky trip.
And my wife who is the President must clasp a tightened grip
on all those ladies running loose without their pining men,
who are home and really worried about a pregnancy again.
I watched the movies on the telly, and read the paper twice,
then thought about the pub that usually would entice.
But the weather was a dampener for the thought of even beer,
so I picked the paper up again … ‘Hello, what is this here!’
I missed the ‘Personal Ads’ for they’re something I don’t read,
because they are Professional women …for who I have little need,
but the wife’s away and I’m alone; so I’m these ladies aim,
and I’ve got a hundred bucks to spare - and I’m pretty game!
I took the time to scan the print that’s written pertinent to me,
and there’s one ‘Ad’ that stirred me loins for a girl I’d love to see -
‘A single black female seeking a man for companionship and fun,
and she hasn’t any ethnic qualms, so I’m not one she’ll shun’.
‘She mentions she’s good looking and she loves to dance and play.
She loves hunting, fishing, camping, and go walking every day.
She likes riding in a jazzed up ute, and then mentions one desire,
is to cuddle up on rainy days beside you near the fire’.
‘And dinners laced with candlelight will have her eating from your hand.
Give her a rub and she’ll respond in ways she’ll only understand.
Her preference is to only dress, in what nature dressed her in;
kiss her, Cassie’s yours … ring this number - and your fun can begin!’
Nervously I dialled the numbers and the phone began to ring.
I cleared me throat before I asked the girl who’s answering,
“I’m calling ‘bout your ‘Ad’ for Cassie. That’s who I’m yearning for”.
“You’ll love her” the woman chuckled - “She’s a lovely Labrador!”