Long Unloaded Poems
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THE DAY MY LIFE BEGAN
The day my life began, my friends,
Was back in nineteen sixty-two.
It was a romantic story,
That I'll now relate to you
When Mum and Dad first married,
Things were hard for a time.
There wasn’t much money for luxuries;
They had to watch every dime.
They lived with Gran and Granddad,
Though they yearned to be alone.
While they scrimped and saved to raise the cash
To buy a house of their own.
They worked all the hours God gave them,
‘Til they put a deposit down
On a house with two small bedrooms,
On the poorer side of town.
Moving day came round at last
And they hired a van for the day.
They couldn’t afford a removal firm,
So that was the only way.
With the help of friends and family,
They did it all in one load
And soon their goods and chattels
Were stacked in their new abode.
The last box was safely unloaded
And Dad returned the van.
They celebrated later that night …
And that’s when my life began.
4h April 2020
The day my life went Whaco contest
Sponsor - Caren Kritsinger
Tree Top Dancers
and Circus Clowns
The neighbors moved away.
They said nothing to anyone,
they just left.
New people took the home.
There was a big truck.
It was full of boxes,
and a TV.
It was jam-packed with animals...
and cages and crates,
and statutes of...
Greek women holding water vases,
Greek men with harps.
The truck itself was all blue.
Funny, even the tires.
Odd.
I watched as they unloaded other things;
a giant clock that rang...
from the time they took it from the vehicle,
until it went... inside... (hushed tones).
There was a deep freezer,
the size you could fit six grown men...in.
One on top of another...
a side; by side by side by side, by side, by side.
There was a trunk with a hunchback,
and then a hunchback with a trunk.
What can I say... they were a pair,
I had to stare.
Unfair, I looked away.
Then the mom, and the dad...
came rolling up the drive.
They were in a giant bread truck;
made of cowhide?
A dozen kids on the back,
and even a few on a rack?
A lively crew of gypsies.
Carnies, forced to retire;
from long days,
now gone.
The circus, the show,
the festival of colors;
no more...
Come to a new place,
to put on a new face,
to leave no trace,
of all that was left behind.
Yet how do you start a fresh life,
from a comfortable place you always lived,
upside down, right side up,
cheers all around,
and elephants that danced,
giraffes that sang,
and popcorn was the main course;
at dinner.
Now everyday life,
full of strife,
trying to make things right,
somewhere in the world.
The clowns still make some laugh,
at every funny gaff,
even if...
it is not in a big shoe,
or under a giant tent.
Be happy.
It is a choice.
A VW Beetle
An unloaded thirty eight
In the passenger seat
And out through the gate
A briefcase of secrets
Chained to the wrist
Memorized instructions
From an unwritten list.
In the event of an ambush
Just pop five rounds in:
The only trouble was
They were sealed in a tin.
We weren't even sure
The rounds were live anymore
The tin was dated
Nineteen Fourty Four
These were the days
Before mobile phone
Just the courier and driver
Out on their own.
I suppose in a way
It was a bit of fun
Time out of the office
When you did the Courier Run
It never happened of course.
And we delivered to the Yanks
Who took our case
Without any thanks.
They treated us
With such disrespect
You’d think they’d decided
They’d be fighting us next.”
Briefcase of new secrets
Chained to the wrist,
Memorised directions
From that unwritten list.
A VW Beetle,
Unloaded Thirty eight
In the passenger seat
And back out of the gate.
If I could wrinkle my nose like Samantha Witch
in the old TV shows from the 60’s and get my way,
I would not ever have to clean a bathroom toilet again.
Anyone remember Hazel the maid? I would get her here.
After all my dreams came true, would I keep my magic to myself
or would I share it?
If I shared it, every long-lost relative I have never liked would hunt me down.
They would want expensive cars, and houses, and prissy poodle dogs.
Magic would mess them up, and they would resent me for my magic.
Best to keep it to myself so they can stay broke instead of greedy.
Magic today could have unloaded the groceries from the car,
and fixed the windshield wipers that kept locking up in the rain.
M-irthful summer blast time
A-ims to entertain everyone;
L-et lonely twilight turn
I-nto a joyful break of dawn.
G-rand summer blast time
A-llows all to join the fun;
Y-es, stress is unloaded,
A-ny woeful feeling is gone.
S-ports activity is held,
U-nity Games includes table tennis;
M-ay twentieth is for rock concert,
M-ay twenty-first is for OPM hits.
E-njoy the summer blast time, from 10: 00 AM till ten in the night;
R-ight before our very eyes, everything is set aright.
B-onding of the family
L-ets the day turn sublime;
A-fter the Saturday show,
S-unday then is summer blast
T-ime.
For last fifty years.
Sad pillows still surround me
Moans are dragging me.
For last fifty years.
Heart is unable to see
the dark span thrilled me
For last fifty years.
I run around the time's dust
and the whirlwind falls.
For last fifty years.
I'm looking for My Nineties
Calm and loving beam.
For last fifty years.
Want to remain unloaded.
No one crossed but me.
For last fifty years.
doom angels did not appear
for life-changing hug.
For last fifty years.
Some subterfuge was muttered.
Step aimed for repent
For last fifty years.
hunt for a watering pot
Rain for Aaron's rod
For last fifty years.
And I'm relying on you
sky's tears have fallen.
For last fifty years.
The eyes decipher birth signs
on heat and pain shores.
For last fifty years.
sins tighten the grip of grief
hope and goodness fade
For last fifty years.
The metal scream may be heard.
metal beat yields steel.
Written: August 6, 2021
A Brian Strand 1,2 or 3 line Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Diode Side pumped under water laser show!
Off loaded. They stood by the ferry: watching
and waiting. The ferry was a tempory ordeal: they were
constructing
a tunnel. And since this much attention all funded
by S.S.W.Inc (secret Space WorldInc) allo
audeince a laser show showed promise for excitment.
Man we unloaded equipment into the night. I was angry I had
a date with Bla;Bla Controversy( I had to postpone it
I knew that getting out of her line made me
lesser and more unlikely to be a permanate fixure in her life.
people always speak bad about loose and mean women, one thing
they never tell people is often they open the doors up conversation
and having something to talk about ften was the perfect script
for romance. Engaging and meaningful conversations often had
different defintions to all involved. Finding someone who read from your book of understanding
often gave way to getting it easier. man begging a woman is fun: but you don't know the stresses it causes
until what you are trying to have or gain is either yours against ownership: or lossed
due to someone wishing to stay in control of your emotions. I doubt if being puppet to someone who's been teased and ridiculed would be nice her revenge to the world
that wronged her could mean trouble. Understanding Calmed shores makes vacation more exciting! Them Bikinis aint drawels!
At the wharf I donned the Wellington boots
Of the fisher deceased, to trace my roots
And see and feel what it was like at sea
For my uncle a fishing devotee.
The clammy boots were three sizes too large.
I kidded myself that I could take charge,
And fill the boots with fishers' gait and guts
Aware the concept was deluded, nuts.
I felt the lure of expectation loom
As the trawler 'Gen' breached to break dawn's gloom
I embraced the hope of a bumper haul
Of keeper fish, not tiddlers, way too small.
I felt the surge of waves tug at the boots,
Like tentacles dragging against the roots
Which held my soles fast on the slimy deck.
The sea incessant for another wreck.
I felt fish guts, innards, blood and gore,
Slather on boots as fish were brought ashore,
And unloaded in bins brimful with ice.
At days end, bootlegging was hard but nice.
For my fifty-sixth birthday I was expecting a large check.
He had indicated that he was giving me something extra delightful.
It is coming the day before your birthday.
Hooray! A day early! I could hardly sleep.
I was excited!
It came in a Lowe’s truck.
A large Lowe’s truck.
Refrigerator?
Big screen TV?
New kitchen cupboards?
No.
No.
No.
I knew it was not jewelry now,
but probably something expensive.
After they unloaded it complete with red wagon
I was consternated, confused, cantankerous, and caustic.
You got me a riding lawnmower for my birthday?
Since it was a gift to me, I could do anything I wanted with it.
Right?
I called up the caretaker at the church and donated it to them.
He was exceeding pleased.
Came to pick it up within twelve hours.
I told my husband to never buy me a riding lawn mower again.
Not that I had to.
Disasters have plagued our planet since the dawn of time,
When primitive creatures rose from primordial slime,
And a comet came down to hit a dinosaur’s head,
Causing a headache so bad, he was better off dead.
So, he asked the plain question, “to be or not to be?”
And invented Tylenol with codeine, number three.
Before you know it, Mount Vesuvius exploded,
And many kilometers of magma unloaded.
Thousands were inundated - a woeful loss of life,
One man frozen stiff forever with his neighbor’s wife.
The Chicago Fire was equally terrible.
To be cooked alive is certainly unbearable.
As disasters go, this undoubtedly qualifies.
Mrs. O’Leary’s cow did publicly apologize.
When the South Fork Dam breached, to people’s worst fears,
The Johnstown Flood immersed folks here and there to their ears.
If you happened to be shorter than five foot-seven,
You saw a few fish, and then you went up to heaven.
This holiday season, some fun you may wish to poke
At me, as you might Scrooge or Grinch, but this ain’t no joke.
Prepare for a worse catastrophe, never seen before,
One you can’t ignore, which will knock you right to the floor,
Let me underscore, get ready, there’s food to store…for
The Great California Quake of Twenty-Twenty Four.