Watch him work
Sometimes you can't see
Sometimes you can't view
The Greatness
Thats within you
Sometimes we are unsure of what to do
Like a mystery no clue
We've over came
So much the happiness ,the hurt
The Lord not through with us
Lets watch him work
Watch him work
Its your season
The Lord wants a reason
To keep pouring
And watch you keep growing
You put in work
You put in tears
You have survived all these years
You didnt loose hope
Overcame fears
Thats a big deal
You righted your wrongs
You became so strong
He challenged you to be you
The one he made so unique and true
Watch him work
Its your season
The Lord wants a reason
To keep pouring
And watch you keep growing
Watch him
Wait
Have the faith
Its time for us
To sit and back and let him work
Watch him work
Its your season
The Lord wants a reason
To keep pouring
And watch you keep growing
(Repeat until chorus fades)
Written by Concetta Hardnett
04/12/2026
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning the pigeons swam~
not flew, but breaststroked
through liquid air,
we knew something was wrong.
Down at the harbor,
fishermen pulled up their nets
and found only clouds,
dripping silver like mercury.
Mr. Thacker’s roses
bloomed backward,
petals sealing tight
into green fists.
At noon, the church bell
rang itself silent,
each note swallowed
by the steeple’s shadow.
And then—you.
Walking on the river,
not as a prophet would,
but laughing, stumbling,
kicking spray into the sky
where it hung, glittering,
refusing to fall.
By dusk, the world
righted itself—mostly.
But sometimes, when the wind
tugs just so,
I swear I see the streetlights
drip upward,
one luminous drop at a time.
So I went to the quack on a Wednesday
He said that they'd found something wrong
He said there's this thing called a prostate
And mine well its just not on song
The best thing to do with a Prostate
Is just take the Bugger away
So that's why i'm sat in my garden
With six holes in my belly today
They cut and they scraped and they prodded
And shuffled my insides about
Till the bits on the left were all righted
And the right bits were turned inside out
So now I'm at home in the garden
My belly it feels a bit odd
I don't know if I should call the doctor
Or if I just call Dyno-Rod
But the best thing I know is that prostate
Is now in some hospital bin
Its not in my guts spreading Cancer
Like it would if they left the thing in
Death approaches
We have no regrets
Dreaming improbable dreams.
Reality betwixt the unfeeling
Monuments souring unhindered.
No longer enslaved slaves
Thinking the unthinkable
To be what we truly feel
Tears that can’t be cried
For pathways to the unknown
Soft velvet sparks so subtle
Teardrops fall in puddles,
Weary eyes forge forward
Forlorn ekphratic meandering
The pain as its vile pungency
Scorns the soul of the angelic
Drives goodness to the brink,
Mighty swords flow protests
To the unyielding winds of time
To defiantly stand up to demons
For a valid worthwhile cause
As the lyrics of memoirs spill
And gazes turn to wonder,
Amid lonely nights of fear
With only love unblemished
If not ourselves what can we be?
Untold ethics to be true.
To ease our savage thoughts
claiming not fame nor fortune
this be our claim to fame.
Doing it our way evermore,
The righted wrongs unsaid.
When God questions us,
We will stand erect.
I’ll be gone this summer.
It’s just a fact of life.
One day when the moon settles into the heavens
and the hazy heat loses its grip on the day,
I’ll walk to the woods
and never emerge.
I’ll become one with the earth,
take my last breaths to the sounds of crickets and
squirrels scurrying to their treetop homes.
It’s not particularly something I want to do;
some days, I even find myself scoffing at this possibility.
But deep down, I know it must be done.
My existence is a wrong that must be righted
by my own hand, if by nothing quicker.
I’m better off dead.
No doubt about it.
I’ll lift the weight off my loved ones soon.
I just hope they know the last words on my lips will be a whispered
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
When the moon shines in the East
And all the white doves have been released
A young child will sleep in restful peace
When they've closed Hell's open door
And put an end to every single war
He won't have to worry any more
When they plant the fields in seed
And mankind rids itself of all greed
Then he will have nothing more to need
When freedom's the final song
And whose words have righted ev'ry wrong
His young soul will soar forever on
When the moon shines in the East
And all the white doves have been released
A young child will sleep in restful peace
You rose me up
you made me strong
you gave me a place
in this world
you made me a fighter
and righted the wrong
you put my nuts and bolt
where they belong.
(to my daughter)
Jessica
And what is in a bland
year
that a great moment
could not obliterate…
the value of a lifetime
without a season of proximity
shared…?
as one thimble of seawater
passed between us
can be a voyage toward
wondrous eternity
when hearts are righted
and divine charting
full sail
at the steer -- ?
We talk of the toast
into tomorrow
while letting the dear drip
pour away
limiting prayer
to future morning cadence
giving not enough deference
to Loving Presence attended…
Kiss me!
I've seen what you'll never see
I did what you dare not do
I hear what can't be heard
I know the knowledge unknown
I've been to the abyss
I lived many lives
I kissed death twice
I felt the slightest touch
I've swored past the limit
I tagged the rock at bottom
I've cried a river
I blead a pool
I carried the world
I thought the unthinkable
I've tasted the forbidden
I had it all
I've lost it all
I've sacrificed everything
I loved the unlovable
I've tried the hardest
I lifted many spirits
I believed the lies
I've righted the wrong
I've blessed the cursed
I shot the best
I ate the rest
I've saved us all
I've damned us all
I am who you dare not be
I've done what was Destined of me
I gave you everything
I hope you seen what you came to see
And this is all that's left of me
I've been there
I've done that
“cock burn’s”
my ship has kissed the lips
of the mighty Mississip
to port to abort
my righted lefts
except accepting
tooth’s toothpicked
ship shape
built in a
bottle
of
porto
Noble leader, a beacon of hope,
Endurance and courage, helped us to cope.
Leading with dignity, in the darkest of days,
Striving for justice, in so many ways.
Outspoken advocate for freedom's embrace,
Nation's unifier, ending apartheid's disgrace.
Role model for all, his spirit so strong,
Overcame hardships, and righted the wrong.
Loving his country, through struggle and strife,
Inspired a nation, to embrace a new life.
Humility and grace, in all that he did,
Legacy of love, as a giant he's bid.
Admired by the world, his impact remains,
Mandela's name, a symbol of change.
Advocate for peace, his vision so clear,
Never gave up, year after year.
Dignity and equality, his ideals won't part,
Embodied the hope of a united heart,
Living proof that forgiveness is smart,
A lifetime of service, from the very start.
After the little storm last night
The birds' song seems chipper
As the sun changes cobalt clouds
To rose, roosters' songs quicker
As porch ceiling fan hums steadily
And poet struggles out
Words, the muse is stifled trapped within
Unwanted emotions 'bout
The audience reads penned thoughts
At least some days they do
Maybe they just glance, write a note
As they pass swiftly through
Do they ever think, maybe ponder?
Over each small word penned
Or is it a means to an end
Somehow a gold star pinned
At least it is not outright rudeness
Each poet acknowledges
The verse in unique and kind ways
Not his wife admonishes
When a few words she tries to say
Will the wrong be righted
Can forgiveness take ahold
And love again ignited
This is not about soupers not commenting. My work is always commented on in unique and encouraging comments. Thanks soupers.
there are places i will never see
there are places i would like to be
there are attractions that i would like to view
then there is the main attraction, which is you
i remember sleeping under the noise
i remember waking up with mosquito bites and ticks on my genitals
i remember snot and tears turning to ice on my face
i remember laying my head against your heart, the warmest of any place
confusion left me at a standstill while still moving
confusion righted me with two left feet while still grooving
confusion created mirages in the dry desert of life
confusion lead me to you, the foundation that helped overcome all struggle and strife
I
before a month, I knew that laugh
it was musical, promising so much
in caring, learning we don't know enough
about JESUS and his plans and such
II
then we prayed mornings at the Home
that mix of elder care and young tenants
rules said we could not fraternize, come
visiting at odd hours: i left because of rents
III
The rising cost of housing, albeit
It was a Senior Center, non-profit
It was perfect for sharing Jesus, and repeat
I was gone a few weeks and she located me
IV
That reunion made everything clear
I needed her near, or at least a Dear
Our ages poles apart, she had no fear
Of gossip, a gold-digger and The Senior
V
The days when you were gone (life calls)
Those days were a haze; I looked at the clock
Too often, at my Bible a little, friends were false
You came: the universe righted itself. Lover in shock
Let me tell you a story
One day, near summer’s end
Martha and her husband
Went canoeing with a friend
Suddenly a log’s there!
And what can Martha do?
Then she’s in the water
She tipped from her canoe
The canoe was righted
But she’s still in the creek
“I cannot climb back in there!
Oh, I am just too weak!”
Then the men were thinking
About what they could do
To somehow get her out
And into the canoe
Then their friend gave warning
He pointed, “Look up there!
In the logs and branches
I saw a snake–beware!”
Now it has been proven
That miracles are true
For when they looked at Martha
She’s back in the canoe!
Theme: funny
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