Short Movers Poems

Lovers muse
Movers luse
Movers seul
Seul Movers...

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So,
without
prime movers-
will the world stand
still?...

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People are

Moved by honesty

Stirred by sincerity

Motivated by integrity

Encouraged by this reality...

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Epitome bounds
useless waste sacrifices
will we ever learn?
our future movers, shakers
laid to a restless unknown...

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Idling in the rain
life bleeds an oily rainbow 
of pollutions blues 


©10/7/2018

contest – The Paint Movers
sponsor – Anthony Slausen...

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for each,
God has given a purpose
some be movers and shakers
as a mighty oak
most, however,
are but a simple blade of grass
on which a butterfly alights...

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they were not just grandparents
they were not just movers and shakers
they were exuberant, enthusiastic
and they knew how to sparkle with joy
I was lucky to have them...

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Stephen Hawking says we must colonize another planet
Or face extinction, sure hope we can manage it
That's quite a goal
For us human souls
The movers will make a large fortune, I submit...

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How many remember ye ole gramophone players
Music from an earlier time, such melody makers
We had to place the needle
Tween the grooves to play The Beatles
What a joyous era for those movers and shakers...

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Nobody cried for the worker

he left a pile of bills a

a rusty cage of body 

cry old soul

forgotten memories  

ashes of historys dustheap

real movers and shakers 

the cries are made 

but never heard....

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cracking and peeling
                                 
                                   the skin of cool walls crawling

                                             chameleons sigh







October 1st 2018

Composed For Anthony Slausen's
The Paint Mover(s) Poetry Contest...

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The lingering scent of an evergreen
Pine needles in the Hoover
Ornaments packed and put away
In old boxes from the movers

Outside lights taken down
The wreath removed from the door
Plastic magi figures back in the shed
Our closet door is locked no more

New toys are in the toy box
New clothes are put away
The house is back to normal
In time for New Years Day...

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It’s up to us movers and shakers in this world
to get things done that need doing.
You and I know full well that others will sit still and wait,
for us to get the old pot stewing.

The movers and shakers are lonely at the top,
but that is their residence by choice.
It is they who get things done and make all the plans,
and the ones who aren’t afraid to raise their voice....

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The movers wheeled the piano in the apartment 
my tutors revealed plateaus climbed as an artist 
hours flying pages turned black and white keys charted 
scoured trying ages I played packed plight I started 
recitals, concert halls, from practicing hardest 
reprisals, my art calls, the piano sits modest 
In my twilight years I teach children to harvest 
the wild bright light nears, to each the piano harnessed...

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the sand creeps
sand dunes grow... gaining ground
marram holds all together

desert mountains... dunes
imperceptible movers
yet always growing

on a windy day
a mile long sandy beach
not a place to be

sandy beaches
here one day... gone the next
hungry oceans

ripples in the sand
saltating grains form ripples
sand dunes nurseries

creatures of the sand
reptiles... insects... birds... mammals
oasis wildlife...

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Wheelchair rush
Walking legs of others, please hush
Journey into continued movement
No hold back
Wheelchair staying on track
Highway On Ramp
Wheelchair jam
Wheelchairs with their own speed limit
They permit
Wheels on schedule
Moving module
Wheelchairs not a stop
Pedestrians in don’t like or not
Wheelchairs always on the go
A rush and sometimes slow
People in wheelchairs are the ones that know
Wheelchairs are people movers 
Transport and deliver...

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I guess you saw the note on the door
And the clothes all folded up on the floor.

I was going to leave before you got home.
It’s easier to leave when I’m all alone.

I guess the neighbors called when they saw the movers pull in,
And I don’t have to guess where you’ve been.

Yes, it’s plain to see.
I don’t even want to know if you still love me.

I’m leaving today!
Theirs nothing left to say.

I know the tears you cry are not for me,
But for a love that use to be....

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Echoes of their squalling,
finally interferes with my slumber.

Opening my eyes,
to see the pensive faces of the ladened.

And my ears,
to the ear-splitting shrill of the piteous.

Showing me their greatest fears,
Slowing becoming reality before their eyes.

I have seen for myself,
brothers smothering one another.

As a new era seeks recognition,
Iniquity impetuously taking its position.

Tardily becoming the order of the day.
 Shortly to be a disease we cannot contain....

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