A missing front tooth
Nightlight glowing soft
Height marks on the wall
Training wheels old news
Car keys in the drawer
Butterfly kiss
Mama bear hug
A runny nose
Love for my son
Brushing teeth
Bedtime tales
Shutting doors
Baked bread
Beer breath
Tears
April showers may dampen Dallas Texas torrents glooming deluge on path way
Priceless zooming presence; shrouds blend violets and daisies blooming in May
Rain forecast an encumbered view; stubborn clouds cause distressing delay
Isn’t raining rain you know, it’s raining diamonds vrooming diamond souffle
Look expectantly skyward, your Ray Bans don, for the Solar Eclipse it's today!
What was once there is no longer here.
Must I forget whom I hold dear?
Violence deceives
in the absence of love
masking a template
that fits like a glove
Destruction and madness
call from within
where lies have embedded
in footnotes to sin
Violence festers
in spirit deformed
to strike ever constant
those feelings unborn
Its petroglyph’s holler
from caves deep inside
marking the secrets
—we most try to hide
(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)
*Image of Pride Backgrounds by Pixabay.
Re-Marking June
A Pride fellow with the hockey staff,
Who is jeered by some that made them laugh,
Was to count the whole team's men,
Ere the P.A., (ne'er again),
Said, "Our team's men totals about half."
2022 June 09
*3rd Place*
A funny Limerick - Any Theme
~~Tania Kitchin: Judged 2022 June 19
*RZ & HMS: 9,9,7,7,9.
I am recalling how wonderful it was to stand
At the edge of the New River Gorge overlook
And view the expanse of the ridges, so grand,
From a distance the river seemed only a brook.
The mountains, embracing the water’s edge,
Covered in verdant greenery for eons of time
Looking to the south a high steel arch bridge
Awaited the young poet conjuring up a rhyme.
Far, far below waiting for the next coal train
A wayside station, from up here merely a dot,
If one listened closely, river whispered a refrain
While the lad marked his memory on this spot.
A vast breathtaking scape emotionally crushing
Northward, a dam resembling a gigantic comb,
Gates lowered holding back the water rushing
Above the worn weathered rocks awash in foam.
Soon, I shall return to this primordial wilderness
Not far from the place of my birth, so long ago
A place which in spirit I’ve never left, I confess,
Where the lovely waters of the New River flow.
Written May 20, 2022
Many, many years ago when I was just a kid
Life was miserable because I was so small
I was the perfect victim for every bully around.
When I decided to go into the military
They said, "You are too weak, you won’t survive,"
But I was determined to show them I could.
The day I raised my hand and was sworn in
I crossed the Rubicon, declaring my intention
To learn the skills I needed to make a good life,
Free of bullying, harassing, and utter strife.
That day I also decided to become a champion
For every person who is put down by others.
And so, I am still standing up for the little guy.
I have no patience for those who belittle,
Who get their “kicks” from throwing shade
Finding their joy at the expense of others,
They think their prejudices make them strong
I am here to say to them, “You are so wrong!”
written October 11, 2021
"Rubicon Crossing"
especially for "Pick-A-Title, Vol 26" poetry contest
sponsored by Edward Ibeh
I read about a mom and son
Who chose to mark the days
Since Covid struck by making cranes
In most creative ways.
One paper crane a day displayed
And posted as amassed
Allowed them to acknowledge
The uncommon year that passed.
I love a daily noting
Of the march of Father Time,
Whether origami-folded
Or some pencilled words in rhyme.
The sky slid across a thinly iced sun
As clouds collided amid piled up heaps
Painting noses pink, where powdered breath spun
Webs of frost surrounding when minutes creep
On skittish feet, wary of time’s upkeep
When their passion’s reckless young Romeos
Discard stoic gray for flashy road shows
What impatient eyes fail to calculate...
A serene gleaned as the wisdom of snow
Lands quiet, where wounded hopes hibernate.
1/03/21
N/A in Just Thinkin contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
judged 1/05/21
Is your humanity held captive
by your intelligence
Does your soul remain imprisoned
for a self-inflicted crime
Are the wishes you made, abandoned,
prisoners of the wind
Is the cell locked deep within you
—on whose walls you mark the time
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2019)
While listening to my footsteps rap
I stumble: tiny boughs whip these cheeks
until my eyes catch a glimpse
of our old cabin tilting ahead,
like a barren woman in quiet dignity.
The field's gopher darts through an exit
with such eerie silence, jolting my city bones.
Alarmed, I peer into this space of time
that has forgotten me--- the drying weeds,
rough cobblestone, tattered panes...
and how the wind whistles through
this ancient dwelling's cracks
asking me to leave, depart, get out.
Maybe, the seasons and moons
from yesteryears do not remember
the prints marked by teenhood games.
Pacing my riddled strides, I become aware
I am not needed here--- not for a long while.
Fate's Footfalls Contest for John Lawless
3/13/2018
Every year I do the same –
The calendar gets marked
With birthdays and important dates
To help my brain get sparked.
I sometimes add occasions
For new friends or someone’s birth,
As sending cards is what I do,
For all that it is worth.
Yet this year there are certain dates,
Where names I’ve always penned,
That will be blank because I’ve lost
A relative and friend.
The August 1st box used to be
Where Marilyn I’d write,
But now she’s buried six feet down,
Which never will feel right.
The need to write Aunt Helen’s name,
November 12th, did end,
For age lay claim and that’s a card
That I’ll no longer send.
That’s just the way it goes, I guess,
But now it’s got me thinking
That every year I should expect
My list to keep on shrinking.
Whisper in my ear
the beauty of your
soul,
Long been longing to
hear your musical
thoughts.
The tone of your
body bewitched me
completely,
The flow of your
energy driving me
crazy.
Come to me at any
time of the day,
Crossing million
miles,
only to feel the
pleasure again.
Unlock the door with
the key of flame,
And rest assured,
It will be worth the
pain.
I feel the sensation
in these eyes,
Makes me yearn,
But sometimes
fright.
Carry yourself here
on the feather
light,
Or call me there in
white tonight.
And now were at it again-
sitting in silence,
marking the end;
the end of compliance.
Always seems to stem with defiance,
next in line-
too much reliance.
Two guys, separate occasions
I guess you could call me a player-
I like the game of persuasion.
Believe me this,
I know this strays from virtue-
and did not intend to hurt you;
I did my best to explain,
the feelings I myself couldn't quite name
But to you it sounded all the same-
And honestly we are both to blame.
We knew the odds,
We took the dive-
Trying to get the honey,
from inside the beehive.
But its worth it because we are always trying to hide-
and you know how i am with my pride;
it's one thing I've never denied.
Time is of the essence,
We’ve been told since prepubescence,
So we shouldn’t waste a minute or we’re fools.
Planning keeps things flowing
So no matter where we’re going,
We’ll accomplish so much more within these rules.
Seconds turn to hours
But if we don’t smell the flowers,
We’ll miss out on all the things life has to give.
Years fly by like sparrows
And before Death aims its arrows,
We should grab each opportunity and live.
If such advice is heeded,
When our earthly time’s completed
We’ll be satisfied that we have done our best;
For when time reclaims its lending
We can’t stop the coming ending ;
Then we’ll realize that it’s finally time to rest.
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