Long Twenty Poems
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At the end of every service each Sunday afternoon,
While walking out the back doors many sing a special tune,
Tables are set up with food and toiletries on top,
It becomes like a free food store or a gift shop,
Some Sundays there is bread, cakes and different brands of cereal,
Other times there are candles, clothes and cosmetic material,
Whatever the blessing, it is open to anyone from the congregation,
This is just an extra, not the church’s obligation
Now some people who attend are very poor, while others just have hard weeks,
Even if you’re wealthy you’re more than welcome to take a peek.
One Sunday there were boxes of sweet scented candles
I watched as a woman took more than she could handle
I offered to help her bring the boxes to her car
I knew that she had parked very far
When I got to her trunk what I did see, were ten boxes, each holding about twenty!
At first I laughed and found it kind of funny
“You must enjoy lighting candles" I said, she said "no it’s all for money"
My eyes opened wide and I asked her to clarify,
She proceeded to tell me everything she gets free, she puts on the internet for others to buy,
Now I ask you is she a genius or a criminal?
Is this something that should be viewed as minimal?
This is like Robin Hood stealing from the poor to make himself rich,
I don’t think that I am wrong for seeing a serious glitch,
The stuff that’s supplied is to help people that are struggling,
Yet this lady thinks its ok that she is smuggling,
That was the last box I ever offered to carry,
I hope that these act's of hers will somehow tarry.
By: Sabina Nicole
Contest:
Genius or criminal " True Story"
and why not
let them;
my son is asleep in the car
the radio plays
the skies are grey
the windows are nearly shut
a delicate breeze converges with
our transcendence
we are being transported
as he possibly dreams about
another football league he wants to invent
or, as he mentioned before hopping in the car
he wanted to leave the tennis early
to write his own song at home
he wants to relate, impart and begin his goodbyes
as the gale invading the vehicle is like the
tempest of ideas burgeoning his mind
i pull up to traffic lights and
i wonder if such joy exists in
the other cars
around us
My only dearie!
In you, I live my world so sweet.
Even the mirrors can't hide your beauty.
In my heart your love grows like planted seeds.
it's you: my life; each day dreams of.
Drag your heart in, we'll never depart,
Since true love can't just be bought.
Then you will know that emotions can twirl.
Happiness is what is seen in your mirror.
Even if your love keeps making my eyes shy,
I can never again decline,
Your love will just be my sole attraction.
Its glow, the mirrors define.
To your heart I plead, be in my kingdom,
My heart has a space for your reign.
So far your love will be there without fail.
In the front of my life's golden mirror,
Many sweet songs, my mouth would sing;
Praising your good deeds, the best real thing.
As you made your love available for me to trust.
27th December, 2024.
Each of the twenty lines was from my following twenty poems, with lines where each of them was written in the original poem enclosed in brackets:
Line 1: 'Your vase filled my vase with love' (Line 52)
Line 2: 'Even a bit of you attracts' (Line 13)
Line 3: 'Allow wines to jailbreak' (Line 7)
Line 4: 'I am thankful for your care' (Line 8)
Line 5: 'Like a rocket in space' (Line 1)l
Line 6: 'Deaf ears hear" (Line 9)
Line 7: 'My heart is a rock'' (Line 12)
Line 8: 'I breathe love' (Line 5)
Line 9: 'Beauty perches on your face' (Line 11)
Line 10: 'Only your love I chose' (Line 10)
Line 11: 'A full glass of red wine' (Line 13)
Line 12: 'My kiss whispers love on your lips' (line7)
Line 13: 'Golden darkness' (Line 12)
Line 14: 'The voice of love (Line 6)
Line 15: 'Even a bit of you attracts' (Line 19)
Line 16: 'Hope it won't be wrong' (Line 6)
Line 17: 'Stardust on autumn's leaves' (Line 31)
Line 18: 'Far away your love can fly' (,Line 8)
Line 19: 'Great at thirteen' (Line 9)
Line 20: 'You cured my lust' (Line 18)
Saturday nights at Barney’s
Rowdy Cowboy Honky-Tonk,
Our band sang soulful love songs
That cried while our guitars wailed.
We oozed moods for fresh lovers,
And throbbing hearts on the mend,
Through those timeless tuneful nights
While Gus wiped his rosewood bar.
After crowds slunk off with night
We sang our most heart-felt songs
To the posters on the walls.
We sang for the fallen stars
Who had blazed through there before.
We lullabied a bleached blonde
Whose shining eyes seemed frozen
On bald Gus behind the bar.
On Tuesday nights at Barney’s
Four young Texas country boys
Poured out heartfelt harmonies
For cups in the coffee shop.
Eighteen wheelers chugged by
As hopeful neon winked at stars,
Coaxing folks to Barney’s door
And dour Gus behind the bar.
When the night was on the wane
We sang for the fallen stars
On the posters on the walls,
Who had blazed through there before.
Our final song we played best:
For a tiny nightingale,
A Texas blonde in buckskins
And auld Gus behind the bar.
Now twenty years from Barney’s
Still singing songs for lovers;
At times mending aching hearts
‘Midst stale smells of smoke and beer,
Our drums beat as hurting hearts
While we croon to forlorn chairs
And remember Barney’s where
Gus wiped glasses at the bar.
We sing our final love song
For a Texas blonde who’d sung
To gray Gus behind the bar.
We sing to little Linda,
The faded belle of Barney’s
Whose faint and wrinkled poster
Was found hung loose on the wall,
Beside Gus behind the bar.
The rain that had been falling all morning had dissipated
but dark clouds still covered the sky.
For some unknown reason she glanced at the clock
and noted the time
Simultaneously the clouds parted
and the sun streamed in through the large bay window
Filling the room with light and warmth
It only lasted a few minutes then the sky clouded over again
An hour or so later the phone rang,
“Great news.” Said her daughter, “you have a great grandson.”
“He was born at 1:26 pm precisely”
1:26 pm precisely,
when the sun had streamed into her room.
He brought with him sunshine, that boy.
as his twenty two years have proven.
Rose Ladies
Lovely ladies, Tiggywinkles, to my garden return
Good as Gold after absence from winter’s sojourn
Shirley’s Bouquet – blue tipped rose acclaimed
American Beauty a winner proclaimed
Spicy perfumes from Brandy - First Love -
Calls Whisper out - petals of white like mourning doves
Midas Touch gown glows bright as Sugar Moon
Queen Mother, Sunburst in Carousel swoons
Ketchup and Mustard ready for a Garden Party
Hot Cocoa in Sterling Silver served up so smartly
The Dark Knight looks out for purple Intrigues
Neptune on guard coming from twenty leagues
Swan ladies so graceful tell of Sutter’s Glory
See constellations and pale Virgo’s story
Olympiad sighs for races with stallions
Gold, silver, Bronze Star – precious Medallions
Shares Anna’s Promise, Tiffany’s First Prize
As Just Joey and Blue Girl in Iceberg fantasize
With Peace they arrive, some in Tropicana dress
A Double Delight, Mr. Lincoln, to beauty confess.
These are the roses that grace, and have graced, my garden with a few minor exceptions.
3-10-21
Contest: List with a Twist
Sponsor: Charles Messina
When they couldn't sedate me
And needed to cut strips of flesh
From my eyelid, I heard the sizzle
Smelled the scalpel burning as it sliced
And glimpsed the steam rising
Through a peephole under the
Sterile towel tent covering my face
Flesh harvested from my eyelid
grafted into the cavern under my eye
Pit left from digging the cancer filled
One hundred and twenty three tiny stitches later
an ice bag tapped to my head with a warning
it would hurt like hell when the Lidocaine died
I lied-I was going back to my hotel
And on that dark highway in the pouring rain
I could see well enough with one eye
Until sixty miles west on I-80
Burning hot all consuming hell, stabbing, sharp, wish I were dead
Pulled over into aq Wendover casino
To kill the pain
When I'm drinking and gambling, life doesn't hurt.
Faded away until it really wasn't there
Enough to sober up, get back in my truck
Poorer than I was--but money
Never made me happy.
You did
My emergency contact.
My ride home
Pathetic that this is your poem
You are not a bad person.
You gave yourself away.
You took yourself back.
And that's alright
I take me back, too
And like that, there's no emergency contact
No one to drive me home
And I wish you had a better poem
Than this...
I'm-hurt-you-should-feel-sorry-for-me
and my wounded heart
Attempt to what?
Get you back? Hell-no
Don't know what you were, or why
But you had to be removed
Just like the cancer in my eye--you had to go
It's not pretty and leaves a big hole
That some other part of me must fill
It's uncomfortable
And it hurts
Yeah...
and there's nobody to drive me home
But I've been through worse
I'm happy to turn the page
If there's something better for you
There's something better for me
Something better than this
Pain management poem.
That you will never read, but somehow
Makes me feel better
Adios, Felicia
...After twenty minutes of this
Pat turned, and he made for land,
steering Champy to a boat-launch
where countless onlookers did stand.
People all got out of the way
when the beast swam up on the ramp,
Pat pulled out the hook, patted the beast,
and said his good-byes to ol’ Champ.
The beast just lay their exhausted,
countless phone cameras quickly flashed,
Then with a lurch the beast swam off,
it ended as quickly as that.
The footage all went up online,
finally, the world would have proof!
but they called it a hoax, CGI,
a stunt pulled on by some bored youths.
Twenty million views on the net,
and they won’t accept what they see,
Pat doesn’t care, he had his fun,
but the accusations annoy me!
I see the doubt in your eyes now,
I already know what you think,
but I tell you, my friend rode Champ—
and I have not had too much to drink!
I'm not overly fond of receiving a family's annual gushing story,
In the form of a Christmas Letter stating that all is hunky-dory.
I received one the other day in which they told the honest truth,
And I'll relay its contents though of me it may be somewhat uncouth!
"My son Jimmy who was in the army gave a sergeant a lot of sass,
And was unceremoniously invited to leave the service by the army brass!
Daughter Sarah became in a 'family way' bringing me much disgrace.
The father of the kid left the state and of him there is not a trace!"
"Son Robert attempted to rob a bank and now languishes in jail.
The judged sentenced him to twenty years sans the benefit of bail.
My husband up and left me for that hussy waitress at Joe's Cafe.
That left me with little money, having to keep bill-collectors at bay!"
"My sister fell on hard times and moved in with her three little brats.
She also brought along three hounds, a nasty parrot and two hissing cats!
My trusty old 85 Chevy blew a rod and left me without wheels;
I can't afford another car because of outrageously high-priced deals!"
She goes on to say, "I hope all has gone well at your house this year.
As you can see, this past year ain't been one for me of great cheer!"
I appreciated her honesty but found her dismal plight quite appalling.
Her letter left me quite bereft and before you know it, I started bawling!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Twin “Tee” Poems for a twenty-dollar bet, yet better than the setup in this setting
Begin
You have hurt feelings
Been in shady dealings
The consequences
Fence us in
Abuse
Something strangely
Is deranged
How will my baby
Be the same
Ambition
Somewhat crazy
Out of use
I am NOT lazy
I will NOT lose
Loss
In a dark existence
It seems like no one listens
Losing so much power
Hour after hour
Good life
Rock and roll and women
The gifts we have been given
Poetry for our souls
None of it ever gets old
Poetry NOT proses
Finding out the meaning
Of what a video is streaming
While children run around screaming
I sit with a finger up my nose
Game
Being a teacher
While standing in the bleachers
Cheering on students
Doctor
Sick as a damned dog
Going to the appointment
It is somewhat a relief
Overwhelmed
I have a few followers
Appreciation comes after creation
There is always a new realization
Favor
I took some pictures
I wrote a book for my mother
It did not help myself or my brother
Yet it still worked wonders
The gift
Her Mom is NOT hot as a soul
This is what I have allotted I have been told
Still, what can be brought?
Sharp
Putting on a suit,
Learning to tie a tie,
Just being a guy...
Fate
Waking up late
I have an important date
Just one more mistake
New Love
Hitting second base
A pretty girl in my face
All I do is chase
Starving
Playing guitar
Feeling like a star
So far,
It has been very hard
Queen
Prince’s wincing,
At the messed-up world,
Someone is hinting,
On what can be unfurled...
Teacher
Slowly scraping
Across the blackboard...
It is like being raped as a whore...
Behavior
Say, “Yes ma’am...”
I say, “God damn!”
Is this a sham???
Or part of another scam...
Blackout
Strip club member
You do NOT remember???
What you did?
You are a ed-up kid...
Fake
Friends turn on you
You can barely trust anyone
All you can to is to pretend
In the end
On gin we depend...