Long Uncontested Poems
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A Different Kind of Courage
Sam took to the stage, limping with a leg brace
And more than a mere trace of fear on his face
The humorous speech competition was on
He’d made it to finals, prior contests he’d won
Sam’s lifelong bout with muscular dystrophy
Generated sadness and much empathy
He shook and stammered as he started to speak
Competitors thought his composure he’d breach
“Stage fright is shared by many,” the boy explained
And as he began, his eye contact seemed strained
We wanted to rush to his side, offer aid
Little did we know Sam’s point was being made
He’d soon have us laughing at the “crutches” WE use
To gain courage when stage fright ensues
“I’m picturing you all naked,” he laughed, smiled
Soon his sharp wit had us rolling in the aisle
His strength and confidence built fast as he spoke
Sam finished up with a memorable poke:
“You thought I would fail; I read it in your eyes
Seeing only my handicap, I realize.
Those who can’t see beyond disabilities
Are mired in self fear; YOU have MY sympathy.”
Out of four thousand entrants, Sam took first place
Impressing us all with his wisdom and grace
Today Sam coaches a college debate team
Having mastered the art of building esteem
September 8, 2020
I chose this poem because I wrote a poem “Courage” on January 10, 2020, one of the poems in my published book “That Thing Called Life”. I penned the six kinds of courage in my poem; physical, social, spiritual, intellectual, moral, and emotional. I had described and gave examples on each of them.
Carolyn titled her poem “A Different Kind of Courage” that Sam displayed. I agree with Carolyn that Sam showed a different kind of courage. He also displayed four kinds of courage: social, spiritual, moral and emotional. He showed he could face criticisms, rejections, oppositions (social); let go (spiritual); showed his own values (moral) and he discerned and told the truth (emotional).
Carolyn ended her poem “Having mastered the art of building esteem” and I ended my poem “It (Courage) gives us power and inner strength”.
8/22/21 Celebrating Carolyn's Poetry:
An Uncontested Poetry
Andrea Dietrich
In the labyrinth of time, where shadows spread their dark wings,
Without poets, without artists... the world would collapse into primordial chaos,
Seasons would disappear, civilizations would crumble to dust,
Thought and humanity would be lost in the abyss, life itself would wither;
Sterile darkness would reign, eternal and uncontested.
Poets and artists, the silent architects of existence,
Hold the threads of reality, weaving the tapestry of time,
With every verse, with every stroke, they evoke the seasons,
Creating the rhythm of life, the very heartbeat of the world.
I wander through the corridors of consciousness, with steps of smoke,
Where images and words merge into a symphony of being,
Without the delicate touch of art, everything would disintegrate,
An endless night, devoid of dreams, where even hope cannot breathe.
They determine the features of their age, the taciturn kings,
Guiding humanity with unseen hands, sculpting the dawn of tomorrow,
The future, docile and obedient, finds its form in their vision,
A canvas waiting to be painted, a poem yet undiscovered.
In this silent dance, I see the universe unfolding,
Stars aligning to the sonnets sung by invisible souls,
Poets dream of tomorrow, their words the ink of time,
Artists capture the light of life, their creations the pulse of our reality.
Without them, the cosmos would be an unfinished symphony,
Potential notes scattered in the void, disordered,
But in their hearts, the essence of existence takes form,
A dance of creation that keeps darkness at bay.
In this realm of thoughts, where consciousness flows like a river of stars,
I hear the whispers of poets from past and present, guiding my pen,
Together we dream of a future sculpted from hope and wonder,
A world where art breathes life into every dark corner.
And thus, in the labyrinth of time and space, they lead us,
The poets and artists, guardians of our fragile reality,
For without them, we would be lost in the night,
But with them, we always find the dawn, ever new, ever bright.
I was raised with honesty
The uncontested rule,
A policy that was enforced
At home and, too, at school.
An object found by chance or luck,
I very quickly learned,
Could never be embraced as mine,
But had to be returned.
The wrong change given in a store?
An error being billed?
I’d proudly point them out; those values
Solidly instilled.
But times have somehow changed and now
Things don’t seem black or white.
My conscience sometimes grapples with
What may be wrong or right.
And so, instead of pride, I felt
A sense of ridicule
When, admitting that I’d underpaid,
I looked more like a fool.
My eyes look for you
My heart bleeds the truth
My spirit enters your soul completely
When I see you I fall in love all over again
The closeness I feel is excitement uncontested
To feel you next to me is like heaven real
As I find myself lost without your feel
The feel of your skin, to hold your hand
To breathe your scent and kiss your lips
I find myself falling in love all over again
To hold you tight I await my time in life
But missing you is a natural occurrence it seem
The dreams I have, the plans I dream
I want more than I bare just waiting your love
But most of all, my heart flutters with life
And loving you is a dream come true
As everyday, love's dream of being two
Fluttering beneath the newly cut
Festive green hollies,
Decked out with heaped drapes
Of freshly fallen snow,
A bold little red breasted Robin,
Busily searching,
Cheerfully hops to and fro.
Darting between the soft, swirling
flakes
Of unique crystalline, driven without
respite,
He alights upon his sheltered
perch
And begins to shrilly trill:
Against the on coming, long
Drawn out Christmas night.
For the drawing darkness is
deepening,
Whilst the harsh wind blows so chill;
And, gently waking
From nonsensical dreaming,
I harken to the old dog Fox,
As, barking, he pads on down
Through the gorse strewn hill.
Suddenly stirred from dozing
Idleness,
As the charred log shifts and
settles in the grate,
I recall with vivid fondness:
Some old memories, good times,
The well meant promises
I did so earnestly to undertake.
Of old acquaintance...
Not forgotten,
And those that were
Or are no more,
Of circumstance and friendship:
And of they
That daily come
To pass through my open door.
But now the flames from the fire,
Dancing in the frosted window
panes,
Are calling for the poker
So I may stoke the blaze again;
For turning my warming back
Upon the locked out winters keep...
I hear that steadfast little Robin
Sing once more -
As I fall back into uncontested sleep!
Mind lurking elsewhere; Like the thief in the night
Inner thoughts trapped where bad is considered the best
Heartless soul that attacks the spirit
The gate way to heaven is nowhere to be seen
Mindless body that lurks for sin
Deeds that darken the light
Attempts to stop, but the feeling refuses
Inner ability to pray has failed, uncontested weakness has occurred
Sin rushes through my veins; day in and out
A call out to God has placed me on hold
Blind hands that hold nothing but the devils plate
My soul covered in mud like a pig in mud
Dirt follows me in the night it eats me alive
I trying to believe but my faith is weak
I knocking on faith’s door but nobody seems to be inside
Waking around in never land hoping to find me
I cry out to the bible, but my cries are silent
Open your heart oh lord as I kneel before you
People around me so distant that I see them no more
Form:
Attorney General William
Barr black marker in hand
kept promise to censor vital
details of Mueller Report
swift as Usain Bolt candidly,
grandly, lustrously, roundly
youthfully blocked out more
rapid than an elegant eland
vibrantly, regally, magically,
and gracefully skirts borderland
which favored topography
constitutes grassland or woodland,
far more pleasing to observe,
than reading adulterated brand
of aforementioned compilation,
distillation, edification, fortification
zeroing questionable activity
upon head of trumpeting brigand,
whose arrivistic, bombastic, caustic,
demonic, electric broadband
outsize ego still convinces
me, thee commander in chief
delegated one or more chargehand
perhaps while delighting as
gourmand savoring chateaubriand,
where his best buddies imagined
themselves in seventh heaven cloudland
every so often taking siesta sans repast
or golfing with grisly handicapped clubhand
non verbally communicating,
in viz sub bully taking a peas zing
cues from presidential high command,
which coterie (i.e. den of thieves)
manipulated social media with nefarious,
insidious, deleterious, et cetera
analogous to "FAKE" contraband,
maybe even milking innocent cowhand
unwittingly planting GMO electronic
bugs amidst future bovine fodder cropland
to allow, enable, and jackknife demand
that moost every eligible voter tricked
induced by virtual reality dreamland
with sinister motive for thee "Apprentice"
rule his kingdom, and expand,
realm asper Medieval days
declaring himself chieftain of fatherland
and/ or North American motherland
where naysayers guillotined
by uncontested firebrand,
who without provocation
very likely bomb into Stone Age
formerly edenic, lush, verdant
geography into flatland
rendered hostile, poisonous and uninhabitable
nonetheless radiating for miles with gangland
forced labor tilling barren, desolate, fissured
landscape erecting unsightly grand
standing room only (cause he know Shylock)
terrain (reign) vast highland
manor as poobah, and husband
to his only heiress, the former
a kooky monster from foggy bottom marshland.
Why is it?
the louder
and more ballistic
my self-righteousness
offensively becomes
The more
at night
I feel self-loathing,
when all is quiet
except dark ruminations
filling my silent bedroom
overwhelming my mind
and body.
Why is it?
we RightWing worry
that nonviolent communication,
too lovingly applied,
would leave us defenseless
against colonizing predators?
And do not worry enough
about LeftWing social anxiety
chronic worrying trauma tales
of violent communications,
too profoundly
ubiquitously applied,
leaving us offensively polarized
by inside fascist autocratic hate
hoarding angry power
and fear filled paralysis?
While unallied corporate fat cat
capitalists,
sell defense industry prophylactic lies,
mad ecocide
predicting global anthroprivileged
demise.
Our inhumane history of violence
leaves uncontested
a healthy silent mystery
of preference
for compassionate personal experience.
altered from ever existing
so that someone else could prosper
and be placed above you through
the uncontested means of believing
strength in the fact that anything against
others makes your position right
loyalty to your spouse
means you honor your position in marriage
following your spouse blindly is quite foolish.
than all bowed before me expecting
me to remedy their ills
to make me hero, in their need to speak of
someone other than their selves.
now I am left with nothing and no one.
they shall trick you to divide you
and ally with you incertain agreements
they will divide you from who you
have chosen to honor as husband
to make wives in Eden.
they shall speak ill of those
ways that make you a man and compare
men to woman and settle
with that which draws no division
Smite him that givest that
his labors one cares not of
but only the fact that he shall
speak fooly and be kindred
and will never want to
take marriage with you
Today in North Bay, Ontario we decided to to slow down…to sit around… uncontested
to take it easy and pace ourselves…as our friend Chandra has suggested
We wonder if she was reminding us to pause
to take tin the beauty that surrounds us….to contemplate…to behold
or if she was worried we needed to rest because we’re getting old.
For whatever reason…today…for Chandra’s sake
we slept in…then with the sun’s blessing kayaked on the lake.
We paddled around Lake Nipissing…at a slow and easy glide
with a cool breeze on our faces and a family of ducks by our side.
Then we sat on the deck of our cottage…in the shade..a cozy nook
where the only thing we had to do was relax and read a book.
Today…like so many days on this trip…every day to be precise
we’ve looked around at where we are and have said how this is paradise.
From the mountains, rivers, lakes…the plains, the flowers the trees
to the sunrises, sunsets, clouds…every cool morning and afternoon breeze.
What we have discovered…and here I promise to be concise…
is that, at least for us, there will always be…two parts to paradise.
We believe finding paradise on Earth…is not a fantasy or a myth….
It’s a combination of the beautiful places we have been…
and the person we’re sharing them with.
Which means if we’re lucky…and so far this has proven to be true
the where is important to finding Paradise…but not as important as who.
So thanks you Chandra for your concern…
now that we’ve had enough time to recover
we’ll be back on the road tomorrow…
we have more paradises to discover