You are the pounding thunder in my chest,
Like a drum corps, with every word you speak.
And when I see your smile, there is true rest
And when my eyes meet yours, my knees grow weak.
There is a missing piece in every soul
Filled only by that one, sublimest love.
There are no substitutes to fill this hole
Only you, hold the place I ‘ve oft dreamt of.
Come to me beloved, entwine our hearts!
Be forever near me, spin close beside
And sew a lifetime tether from the start
That shall not fray, divinely stitched inside.
Let us live a tight-knit life, full of awe;
A three-cord bond of you and me and God.
There's a connection, not to be severed,
By any knife or blade one might yield.
With hidden strength that's only measured,
From the tight knit to remain concealed.
Materially, it's enduring, as well as flexible,
While constraining polarities on each end.
Much like a web, it may have many attachments,
As it holds firmly, with continuity to suspend.
It's very nature adds to the mystery, as any
Vision through time or space remains unseen.
Yet the journey is observed throughout the cosmos,
Its attraction, dare I say love...just going about a routine.
Social media, realm where whispers fly,
A land beneath the vast digital sky.
Here, every word can travel far,
Each post and tweet, a potential star.
It binds the world in a tight-knit web,
Where thoughts and cultures easily ebb.
A platform broad for voices small,
In this grand stage, one and all.
Yet in its depths, dangers dwell,
As truths and lies together swell.
A double-edged sword, it can deceive,
Where false narratives weave and leave.
A mighty force for advocacy’s fight,
It lights up causes in the night.
From grassroots grows a towering wave,
Empowering the meek, the brave.
But watch the cost, privacy paid,
Invisible prices, quietly laid.
A footprint permanent, never gone,
In the landscape vast, forever drawn.
A frontier for the bold, the new,
Where innovations burst into view.
A pulse of progress, fast and fierce,
New ideas that pierce the universe.
So wield it well, this potent tool,
Educate, engage, but never fool.
For social media’s power, vast and wide,
Reflects the human spirit, amplified.
Little Miss Unloved
walked into her school,
smiling from what little love she had to give.
Everyone was there,
all the much-loved kids
the well-loved teacher,
the tight knit circle
of the lovable.
Miss Unloved
considered joining them,
being them,
or killing them.
Quietly
she slid her pistol back in her backpack,
entered
sitting meekly at her desk.
As usual
classmates ignored,
sneered.
Miss Unloved sighed.
Opening her workbook.
she thought:
"One day."
God knew, and God sighed too.
Sticky Glue Stick
An SLR camera shutter clicks
shut, sticks then opens: at a
designated shutter speed.
The subject is caught and the
camera’s quick: like a frog
unfurling its tongue to snag
a wary fly, with its sticky tongue.
The subject is not:
sensational or outrageous
-not sticky eye candy,
not the addictive modern fare,
not titillating,
not irresistible.
Tight knit.
A “modern family” unit sits
close, huddled in transparent
body lingo-
revealing hints, though open to translation.
Wait longer than usual to process,
then
stick pics with glue sticks
to photo album pages.
Arrange them across and
down like inked in crossword
puzzle solutions
-diptychs, triptychs, family trips etc.
chronologies mark lifespan
arcs.
Baby pics, the grandparents,
the unsuspecting…
Fill to the end.
Close the album.
Shut. Then revisit,
with more pics,
and stick them inside.
Where pathways converge, destiny unfolds,
A journey embarked, tales to be told.
Employees once, with tasks to attend,
Transform to friends, the road has no end.
Shared challenges met, bonds stronger than before,
Colleagues become neighbors, relationships soar.
Together they've weathered the storms and trends,
At the end of the road, where camaraderie transcends.
No longer mere workers, but a family tight-knit,
A journey of labor, laughter, and wit.
Through twists and turns, a connection transcends,
They arrive as friends, at the road's cherished end.
But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children
come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God
belongs to such as these.”
—Luke 18:16 NIV
WHAT’S HAPPENED TO JORDAN
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that a kid with sideways horns, pawing hoof,
saw the masses using imperfect tongues
with elbow grease, praising God with their lungs.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that letting the children come, is no goof…
that glancing behind, the aisles were well lit
with eyes and ears saint-bright; faithful, tight-knit.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof.
He pounds on the drums. He’s raising the roof.
He concurs with youth. Ears incline to him.
He married Wisdom. They’re verve is a hymn.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof -
though he stumbled, God made him shatterproof.
And as the saying goes, “God don’t make junk.”
No whiskey in hand - only Spirit-drunk.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that his progeny, raised right - not aloof.
He’s raising young men with Christian morals.
Hero, on white horse, unsung with laurels.
I am lazing about at the base of this tree
Not caring what anyone says to or about me.
It’s a summers’ day and my coat is warm.
I watch bees buzz past in a tight knit swarm.
Others are running, dancing and spinning.
I am enjoying my life, truly languishing and winning.
I am a sloth, with a life full of rest and relaxation.
So glad I do not have any other goal or station.
They are the Ghosts of the Orange House she whispered.
By the whisper, I figured she thought I knew about them.
I didn’t, but I have heard many rumors since; I emphasize rumors.
They think they are all that; they have wild parties, they are frightening.
They are tight-knit, they despise strangers, they chase interlopers off.
Having no idea what that meant, I decided to stop by for a visit.
They were eager to meet me and welcomed me with Earl Spook tea.
This is delicious! I told them. Some were shy; they tittered about that.
Grandma Ghost of Orange House said I could come back any time.
The next time brought homemade cookies.
We cannot eat them, but we sure enjoy smelling them, they told me.
I was so glad I decided to make up my own mind
Instead of listening to rumors.
Fra Angelico Sermon on the Mount
Jesus and his tight knit group
the pristine sculptured scene
breathtaking and serene
a halo light surrounds the head
of keen ears leaning in
it’s as if the disciples have died
and gone to heaven to relive
this ultimate speech
robe’d in blue, red and pinks
yet there’s a disparity, a blot
Judas’ halo is black
he’s nothing more
than a crescent moon
to be blown off the mountain peak
be the absentee scourge
remembered no more
floored
to the basement of hell
O that each one a saint
bereft of sins’ chains
the silver in his grip
a shark in their midst
shamed, shamed
by the Lord in chains
who’d die for him
a lame duck
who’d not embrace
the words of God’s lips
as if they were life itself
2/4/2021
Arriving on this earth just after the war
Never seeing the images my parents saw
Food was still rationed or so I was told
When to see a banana was like striking gold
Today we demand food whenever we want it
Ignoring the air miles, pile food in our basket
Wistfully visiting childhood back then
our life was simpler, as time and time again
we looked after each other; gave support in times of need
our neighbourhood, those halcyon days, a community indeed
Tight knit communities forever they have gone
Neighbours keeping to themselves if ever things go wrong
Often never speaking to the family next door
Greetings now an occasional nod; not caring anymore
Most folk appeared much happier in simpler times back then
They now care less for others; life seems to be all about them
If only they’d embrace the more important things in life
Like kindness, caring and sharing, instead of materialism and strife
Am I searching for Utopia evoking my childhood imaginings
A perfect world cannot exist, for a reality check gives me rude awakenings
Written 24th January 2019
Late January 2019
Brian Strand
1st place
An anti-Semite pruned the tree of life,
cutting branches with a sickle of hate.
He unleashed hell's fury in God's temple,
killing Jews, he swore to eradicate.
The faithful fell in a hail of bullets,
as a synagogue in agony; cried.
For as a raging madman kept firing,
Jewish friends and family members died.
Shepherds of this tight-knit community
were sacrificial lambs, culled from their flock.
And the slaughter of the feeble and meek,
sent the whole civilized world into shock.
A split nation's a breeding ground for hate,
political ire burns over the years.
And you cannot douse a forest fire,
with sob filled vigils of a trillion tears.
Empathetic feelings call for action,
but when given choices, folks choose their gun.
And thus, more innocent victims will die,
for this massacre won't be the last one.
(Quatrain)
Oct. 30, 2018
Caught in the act —
That’s a boyz-to-men
criminal fact
Court-ordered to lip unlock
No bail ...
bar code held in a cellblock
Cop daddy ‘cuffed embrace:
tough love
kiss given to a rap sheet face
Blue reach long arms of the law
pinching another juvenile adult
Rebel teen stunted conscience peer logo persist,
it violently ink grows thick-as-thieves tight knit
Street badge of honor to wear the striped outfit
Alibi remains intact, cage time bled
Closed mouth
yields full max Big House yard cred
Pinching of a made man,
ruffian alley boys all gritty grown up
Bang bang ...
rubber screech noise
Old men prove they be amoral tough
6/17/17
I'm just cooling
And musing
Below the flooring and above the roofing
Still manuevering and moving
Working hard towards improving
Live a life of your choosing
Focused on what I'm doing
Got to get it, can't continue snoozing
While there is and isn't booming
Whether win draw or losing
Before and after what is ensuing
Regardless of if it may be confusing
Quickly fuming
Often stooping
To such a low level, then snooping
People feuding
And dueling
Over petty things, continually adding fueling
To the fire, while ridiculing
Among objects that may or may not be protruding
Near and far from lifeforms and items by themselves or in a tight-knit grouping
At a rapid pace, spewing
It's all bad when it comes to polluting
Always stirring up the pot, and tooting
Your own horn, while assuming
Because you want to see another's undoing
Shame on those that continue spoofing
And fooling
As well as those that did or are planning a mass shooting
There's just no excusing
Such horrendous actions, regardless of it involved drug abusing
And heavy duty boozing
Everyone loves her.
Lots of ***** and energy.
Is easy going as well.
Zero giving up very stubborn and tenacious.
Acts very kind to others watches over younger kids.
Believes in God and Jesus Christ.
Excited always about her upcoming birthday no matter how
far away.
Tight knit Family.
Happy this little girl is my daughter!
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