Went on an excursion to find someone,
A person loved by no one.
A mind fully confused.
A heart extremely bruised.
Some ears deafened by taunts.
With no beauty to flaunt.
Some eyes blurred by tears.
Someone with lots of fears.
Some legs constantly shivering.
A mouth always bickering.
Someone with unhealable scars.
Someone who was never up to par.
Someone who has no one by their side.
Someone who got nowhere to hide.
I went everywhere to find it,
Got tired and thought to quit.
Suddenly I found a mirror.
Looked into it closely;
And my search was over.
“When lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed, . . . ”
the weary high-school student read with a sigh.
The sun had long since set and darkness loomed.
Each night, homework and slumber for Todd’s time vie.
His interests do not in somber poetry lie.
With misty eyes, his teacher, so deeply affected
while reading Whitman’s lines aloud, hoped to stimulate
an appreciation for their timeless themes. Often, she corrected
the class for childish, insensitive actions that tend to deflate
a teacher’s hopes—passing notes, napping, etc.-- Do better times await?
No efforts to cajole them into class participation
with rewards—extra points, field trips, etc.—have gone far;
but their interests in other areas rise to elation:
etching on metal, acting, sports, and playing the guitar.
Perhaps their view of poetry will someday be up to par.
At forty, I hired a vocal coach.
My husband had taken up
a new friend—he swore it was platonic,
her name unimportant.
Upfront, she warned me
her rate for adults
was higher than for children—
a grown-up's capacity for change
isn't great, throat muscles
less pliable, even though
they usually want it more.
This isn't a story
of overcoming
diaphragmatic disadvantages
of mature voices in training,
just its cost.
I had one lesson wherein
she informed me
the price of admission
for her attention to my voice—
to get near the neighborhood
of up to par—
was double the original estimate.
It came with a guarantee
of no promises.
She wasn't a magician, she said.
To make me passable
at karaoke bars
would be an extra ten a session.
It was cheap, actually, easy
quitting those lessons—
quitting my husband.
I never wanted to be a pop star,
only to feel a knowing in my bones
that someone could still hear me.
Had an old-time New York day –
Took the bus to see a play.
Understudy for the star –
Still, the show was up to par.
Dinner in a lovely place –
Food and beer we could embrace.
Friendly waitress and, a plus –
Cool young couple next to us.
Conversation quickly flowed,
Even though we’d not helloed.
She – Jamaican, he, a Swede –
Classy, hip and fun, indeed!
For dessert, some key lime pie;
Bid our friends a sweet goodbye.
Caught the bus and headed home
To capture it within a poem.
When you hitch your wagon to a new star
you best make sure she’s up to par
For if she fails, your wagon’s unhitched
WNBA's 'bright college star' ~
already heading straight for the ditch
_________________________________
In case you're not sure, the 'star' I refer
to is none other than the vastly overrated
Caitlin Clark -- a college star, who (I pre-
dict) will flame out in the WNBA.
If ratings give meaning, symbolled with stars,
Then always keep on your ratings radar.
I’m trying to write my best poem by far,
Please rate it between a one and five star.
Lines as, ‘She brakes me as if I’m a car,
While my engine’s roaring like a jaguar!’
What, that’s too simple, need to raise the bar?
Ok, how about some hardy har har.
Like, ‘Friends of mine truly think they’re the Tsar!’
I say ‘Tsk, tsk, Tsar.’ Is that a one star?
Alright, alright let’s try something bizarre,
With a foreign slant; you with me so far?
‘Jones’s travels brought him to a bazaar;
He wanted dinner, but had no dinar.’
Ok folks, please rate that quip from Dakar.
Does it yet approach a two or three star?
Give me one more chance to get up to par,
For the next line may be a real all-star.
‘The sturgeon roe’d his boat for caviar.’
Is that great line worth at least a four star?
Why rate ‘show and tell’ like a kid’s toy car;
Does rating give purpose for who we are?
Ratings are playthings for wanna-be stars.
Still, increasing ratings’ rates is in our,
Need to soar somewhere, maybe way out far.
Yet, let the cosmos govern the five stars.
I need to write a poem;
That gives the reader Inspiration,
A poem of encouragement,
Not one of discrimination.
Uplifting words of comfort
To all, whatever colour or creed
Every human being receiving assistance,
In their time of need.
Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel
That is always there.
Find beauty in little things,
Found everywhere,
An exchange of smiles,
Will brighten the darkest of days
It may not change the situation
But help to keep your fears at bay.
The gentle touch of someone.
Who understands your plight,
A nod, wink or firm handshake,
Confirmation things will be alright,
Riches do not bring happiness,
There is no healthy comfort in Gold
Money spent unwisely
It can make you greedy and cold.
People who see beauty everywhere they look,
They are the richest by far.
They can express their emotions in books,
Their vision is well up to par.
Chef's, Artists and Poets, too,
Display their talents,
And share them with you
It is an artist's dream and desire
Their artistic efforts
Have inspired.
I use my toaster oven almost
Every single day.
A toasted bagel starts me off
In just the perfect way.
But lately, it’s been taking
Way too long to get things hot
And to close the door, you have to
Give it everything you’ve got.
This morning signaled its demise;
The door is stuck ajar,
The final culmination proving
It’s not up to par.
But there’s no need to wallow
In a crumb tray filled with sorrow,
For Amazon will send a new
Replacement by tomorrow!
A descension of value bows night scenes,
the purple canopy edges its hoist,
spirits cool Platte River to lose its sheen,
Nebraskans wake to clarion fields voiced.
A loyal guest calls, it's the Sandhill Cranes,
dancing lessons, fields fattening corn orts,
pecking and choosing established campaigns.
Last state, go afoul, -- a date with the courts.
Locals aid their tally, most from afar,
It is nature's clock, all good things must end,
fly north to breed, and brood, and up to par,
A month's here, till next year, that's how the trend.
Awnings grey, triumphant stirs, the tension,
inspiring, crescendo ... the ascension.
SOS I’m crying out
Can you hear me in the silence?
SOS I’m crying out
I can’t stand up to all this violence
‘Cause I washed upon a sandbar
Destination close and yet so far
I need a little help now
To get this ship back up to par
SOS I’m crying out
Will anybody save my lost soul?
SOS I’m crying out
In this harsh and cruel world, I’ve taken a toll
The stars look beautiful tonight
Little flecks of diamonds shining bright
Usually, Pollution in cities dulls their might
And makes us not see the beautiful tiny pieces of white.
Glittering flecks that fade in the sunlight
And God flicking silver in the sky when day turns to night
Those beautiful stars, little sources of light
That shines so brightly in the absence of sunlight.
The sun is also a big beautiful star
Shining its wonderful glorious light from afar
Giving us warmth when things seem not up to par
As long as there is light in the sky, you can still go far.
Urgent care is where you go
When you’re a little scared
That what you feel might be a thing
For which you’re unprepared.
You’d rather not spend hours in
A hospital’s E.R.,
But staying home is stressful
When you’re not quite up to par.
So urgent care is something
That is somehow in-between,
For hopefully, by someone trained
You’ll actually be seen.
They’ll check you out and send you home
With meds and some advice
To see your doc (or not –
It’s up to you to roll the dice).
Before these places did exist,
The hospital was where
Most people went when they believed
They needed urgent care.
But nowadays it makes more sense,
Unless you cannot breathe,
To stay out of a hospital,
Where waits may make you seethe.
Dabbling in the digital dynamic
Where ones and zeros tock and tick
There's no need for two and threes
Motherboards dont like them, she leaves them on the keys
Downloads are slow, the digits won't flow
An upgrade is needed, a message says so!
Wifi is shaky, it's not up to par
Need some more gadgets to make it a star
Memory is tripping, it's never enough
Storage is full, those zeros don't bluff
I got more RAM for this digital jam
Now I'm cruising without popups, but here comes spam!
Don't call your ISP if something goes wrong
They'll give you a dance, then give you a song
Just try something, it may do the trick
And let those ones and zeros tock and tick!
2-15-2022
Let's explore Digital Technology Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Simon Rogerson
Sometimes things just don't turn out.
Sometimes things don't fit.
Just the way you hoped they would,
But don't get in a snit.
Try to make the best of things,
Just the way they are.
It may not be just perfect,
But for sure it's up to par.
You worked so hard, you did your best,
Left nothing up to chance;
But don't judge the day by what you reaped,
But by the seeds you plant.
If you plant smiles instead of frowns,
You're sure to get back cherries.
Plant some hugs and kisses,
And you'll get a bowl of berries;
But stomp and snort, plant anger,
Discord and irritation,
And you'll get back no sweets my friend,
Because you plant vexation.
Unless you have indisputable proof to the contrary
Always trust a friend who tells you they read your obituary
They wouldn't lie, they'd spit it out
It's not something people lie about
A real clue, you're not up to par, heading for a cemetery
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