Long Unloading Poems
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My journey through life has seen so much
far have I traveled and much I have done
seen so many things that most others never do
the rock of Gibraltar, with teems of scary monkeys
traveling out we sailed through the Suez canal
wondrous mysteries that delighted an eight year old
camels striding along, enormous crocs floating by
the land so close you want to touch it and run on it
Zanzibar our next port of call, ram shackled boats galore
the heady scents of spices abounds teasing the nostrils
the vivid different colors everywhere flood my senses
on to our destination Dar-es-Salaam harbor most picturesque
a miss mash of ships some luxury most tramp ships or boats
sails of all colors, dark people unloading trunks from the holds
this was a time taken out of time, a way of life quite relaxed
just think of the things ahead, the adventures that awaited me
written 08/08/2013
contest Your Journey
in 1958 the Suez canal was open later it got blocked by sunk ships
‘Let me help you’ I heard a voice say,
From a sweet little old man as he walked my way.
I was twice his size, my bags weighed a ton,
But he came and took them and carried them some.
‘Thank you, you are so kind.’ I said to him
As he placed my bags down with a shy little grin.
‘No thank you for letting me help you, there’s not many that would
but you let me help you, and now I feel good.
I still like to feel useful, and like any man I am still vain,
My pride would be shredded, my heart would feel pain
I looked at this little man, while I popped the hood
He looked so happy, that he made me feel so good.
I returned home the shopping now all completed
Unloading my car I was nearly defeated.
There seemed to be lots more now I had reached home
And I had to stop for a moment to answer my phone.
As quick as a flash someone hit me hard
He pushed me aside and I fell in the yard.
He jumped in the car and drove off really mad.
I never thought I could feel quite this bad.
Order restored things back to normal
I pondered my day with the policeman quite formal.
It looks like there is a spate of this, in this road.
I am sorry that you have had to carry this load.
At least you don’t see life as a fairytale book,
But there is beauty in this world if you know where to look.
I locked eyes with this Adonis in uniform, as he winked at me,
He said in my job the ugly side of life, is what I see.
Think back to this morning to your happier mood
You made an old man happy and that is all for the good.
You are made sad by your loss and I know that’s bad.
But worse could have happened so don’t feel so sad.
Life can be hard but listen to me.
Theers just as much good in it as bad and ug – ly.
Please don’t feel sad this did not happen to me
But someone I know in another county.
It happened almost as you read it here
They are well and ok now and have got over the fear
The canal poked like a finger
into the wrinkled abdomen
of the Port. Along its length,
ketches once bruised
wooden wharves unloading wheat
shipped from outports across the gulf.
Pigeons stalked the spill of grain
from hessian bags torn
by wharfies hooks. Port Adelaide’s
pigeons were kept well fed.
I can remember being harnessed
to a pole and taught to swim
in the cold, dark waters of the canal.
I thrashed and kicked but could not float.
I did not have my fathers dolphin grace
whose aquatic triumphs were engraved
on a silver trophy that stood proud
atop a fireplace shelf.
In its final days the canal slowed
to a halt. Wharves were empty
and gave way to rot. In the end,
dump trucks cascaded fill down
embankments until it choked.
A car park now seals its grave
where plastic bags sail endlessly
across an asphalt lake.
A shopping precinct recalls its name
in gaudy signage.
Memory still has me dangling
on the end of a pole, flailing arms
desperately searching for something
solid to hold, suspended
like a lead weight
above a cold abyss.
Adapting the Craft
My father looked up Zealot Street
toward the mountain where ore
buckets hung to cart the coal.
“Don’t go near the mine” he repeat-
ed, the chant of elders who fore-
warned him of the dangerous hole.
He’d just go up through Bessie’s place
to find a young tree with a v
that he could cut out with his knife
and string with rubber like a lace
to hold a pebble that might be
a deterrent in the daily strife
for a kid in Wiconisco
who didn’t wear patches on his pants
when the miners went on strike.
My father bought a super sling
from the Nu Martz Hardware’s stock
across from the farmer’s market.
It would be the very best thing
to load with a peppermint rock
and blast the squatting pidgin set
that left its guana in a pile
between the houses on our street.
No one ate peppermints anymore
since Hannah went away to hole
up at Marion’s down on Darby Road,
so my father used them to blister
the butts of pidgins unloading
in our alley way, day after day.
“Got another one,” he would roar.
Enid smiled. Should she keep score?
My father kept on going for
ninety years and a few months more.
He shot baskets with his grandson
and prowled the pathways in the park
across Whitehall in search of a young
straight tree with an inviting v, one
that might be honed to aid the aged.
But since the veterans that he served
had wandered far from earlier strife,
he cut a longer sapling with his knife.
He smoothed the wood, applied the stain.
My father’s slingshot had become a cane.
“In lieu of flowers”, the obituary read, “please donate to a worthy cause.”
But when I thought about how she loved her garden, I really had to take a moment
and pause.
I know her daughters meant no harm, they just didn’t want to deal with the mess;
Having just flown in from out of town, solely to put their poor mother to rest.
But throughout the years I watched that dear labor in her garden all day;
More than once or twice my house was blessed with the fragrance from one of her
bouquets.
“In lieu of flowers” – are you kidding me!
“In lieu of flowers” – yeah, just wait and see.
Her daughters arrived at the funeral home, not really expecting much of a crowd;
I walked right in and introduced myself, probably talking a bit too loud.
“I’m your mother’s neighbor, the eligible bachelor; she may have mentioned my
name.
She loved to tell me about you two – too bad you never came.”
About that time the truck arrived and they started unloading the back;
Flowers and wreaths of every kind in every imaginable color but black.
“Oh goodness sake!”
“What’s all this!”
“And where did they all come from?!”
“Oh don’t worry girls – they’re all from me. And, they’re for your wonderful Mom.”
That funeral home was overflowing, with roses and pansies and mums;
Tulips and daisies; carnations and lilies; orchids of every kind.
There were snapdragons, Mona Lisas and delphinium;
Dianthus, lisianthus and mathiola amongst them.
The girls were shocked, that was plain to see,
They didn’t know what to do,
But their mother was happy,
Smiling down on me,
That much I know is true.
By Joe Flach for the "Flowers" contest.
Okay, so it's a free verse that rhymes, I didn't mean to make it rhyme, it just sort of happened that way!
I was a teenager when back when, when I first started working in the tape industry. Working in Manhattan traveling from New Jersey either by train, bus or car for seventeen long years. I've learnt the ins and outs from just about every standpoint in the field. Starting from unloading trucks, to customer service, into sales and then eventually becoming an owner of my own company. I sold all different kinds of tapes, from scotch tape (which is actually just a cellophane tape sold by the infamous (3M Co.) to gaffer tape mainly used in the motion picture and television industry. There's a whole world of sticky substances out there that gets applied to some sort of material like cotton, cloth, cellophane, paper, polyester, aluminum, copper and tons of other kinds of foreign substances that can get adhesive applied on to. Almost every business or company uses some sort of tape. So, this is how it all works out in the end. Here I am, now at almost breaking the 65-age mark in life. After all these years of busting my butt and putting in the necessary time to make a living for myself. Well, here comes the ball-buster. Just like that ((SOLD)). The company that I helped build, the company that I grew with for almost 45 years of my life, just like that it's been sold and bought by some low-life never went to college son-of-a rich man idiot that knows nothing about the tape industry other than it is now owned by him. And that now went from being a family owned richly built company into a new family-owned corporate business that's slowly but surely getting rid of all the original employees and replacing them with new family members or part-time workers. In the past 3 years I've seen three companies that I have worked for, for almost 30 years have gone corporate. Two of the three I no longer work for because of the rules and regulations, like over the top insurances, workman's comp./liability insurance and million-dollar coverages on car insurance. It's totally unfair to the small-time companies. Thank goodness I've reached the age of retirement, or I might be working at McDonalds.
they went corporate
so many people suffered
happy to retire
Christmas morn
The sunshine woke
Daylight in maneuver in children’s eyes
Word to the wise
Santa Claus came and went during the midnight hour, and ventured back to the North Pole until next year
Children hurried downstairs to see what gifts they got
Like it or not
Fireplace warmth
Christmas story all children would appreciate
Reindeers and Santa in the sleigh ride
Toys and assorted gifts of all kinds Santa would provide
Children’s dreams on Christmas eve night
Silent night being calm with twinkling stars
House to House
Santa in a hurry
Schedule in tact
Unloading presents from bag sack
Down the chimney Santa went
A time well spent
Up the chimney back to his reindeer
Santa shouted, “Dash away Dash away”
Merry Christmas to all in his getaway
Later, Santa and his reindeer disappeared into the night
Children all say thank you Santa
Winter feel
Christmas love
Christmas came and went
Until next year to see Santa again
Santa observes if children are bad or good
Christmas now and forever
Merry Christmas
Ladies and gentlemen
some of us are happy
there is no cure
for laziness. So...
After enjoying a state
of procrastinated paradise,
I finally got around to adding
more to the
degrees of laziness
11th degree of laziness
When you have
a morning appointment
And you cancel or change it
at the last minute,
Because you don’t feel like
getting up that early.
12th degree of laziness
When you know someone
who needs their ass whipped.
And you haven’t gotten
around to it yet.
13th degree of laziness
When you let the dog out,
instead of putting him on a leash
to take-’em for a walk.
14th degree of laziness
Is when you use the dishes
from the dishwasher,
Without unloading it.
and the same as said
for not folding your clothes
when you take them out
of the Dryer.
15th degree of laziness
When you procrastinate
to the point you think it’s
it’s good for you.
16th degree of laziness
When you totally depend
on one person to do
everything for you,
Feeling like you can’t do
without this person.
17th degree of laziness
When your caught without
a hunting, fishing or driver’s License.
18th degree of laziness
Knowing you have
no such thing,
You call into work
Reporting that you have
a disease from a pandemic.
19th degree of laziness
Turning off your phone
when you’re on call for work
or official duties.
20th degree of laziness
When you train
your three-year-old
Granddaughter
To do chores
that you don’t want do.
(Like find the TV remote control)
(Pick things up from the floor
so you don’t have to bend over)
21st degree of laziness
Wishing you were rich
So, you can sit on your behind
And do nothing
Paying your help very well
to do things for you.
The orange sky
In this Atlante-an world
A sight to see
Much better than words
Breakwater so crafted
As it holds back the sea
In this harbour of Atlantis
All sailors should see
Ships so elegant
Never seen before
As they sail the waves
So far from offshore
A design so unique
Craftsmanship so pure
Crews in tandem
I've seen nothing truer
Fishermen unloading
This mornings catches
They catch what they need
As Utopia attaches
As we slowly climb
These harbour steps
The view of this city
Immaculate
White marbled buildings
Of construction bliss
Pavemented roads
In a world like this
The charm and delight
As we wander around
Street markets and sellers
Contentment in sound
We sit on some steps
My crew and i
As we marvel the views
Of the Atlante-an skies
This Harbour of Atlantis
And it's Azorean race
Makes this Utopian world
A place to embrace
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/atlantis.php
LADIES, I'm IN A QUANDARY
Ladies, my Hubby once a year,
joins his cronies on the quay.
Down on the river watching
the … “unloading” at dawn.
Ladies, he gave me a quaint perfume,
expects to smell its scent on me,
and my platinum colored hair,
I hate scent … but it really turns him on.
Ladies, I’m in a real QUANDARY,
Biblically speaking, his Quiver is full,
lots of ammo doesn’t shoot blanks,
pray not … inseminates me.
Ladies this is what I may have to do,
I may poise myself to do penance.
Because I’ll fake a headache when he returns,
Ladies gotta prevent … unwanted pregnancy.
March I. 2021 copyright
Contest: P’s and Q’s
Sponsor: Michelle. Faulkner