Quatrain Poems (303)

As we seek to find our partners,
To cherish and adore,
We're haunted by the specters,
Of those who've gone before.

The ones that hurt us badly,
And those who let us down,
Sweet lovers we loved madly,
Who played us for a clown.

Always hoping for the best,
We try again and then,
Find that it's like all the rest,
And we get hurt again.

So fear and trepidation,
Are understandable,
And even sad privation,
May seem prefer-able.

But love will never find us,
If we don't take the chance,
So come, let's let it blind us,
Please, may I have this dance?

Some folks feel they have the right,
To admonish and advise.
They think that their opinion,
Should just always override.

Hot words or inuendo,
Sometimes subtle others bold.
Who do they think that they are?
What gives them the right to scold?

Them thinking they're so clever,
Really just gives me a pain.
They could do so much better,
If their own lives they'd arrange.

With their meddling in the lives,
And affairs of other folks,
What hope have they of finding,
True happiness of their own?

So don't throw your monkey wrench,
Into other's cogs and gears.
Just tend to your own business,
Cause you'll find no takers here.

The meaning of T’day has transcended
from its beginning: our sharing together
with indigenous people who innocently gave
in times of sickness and chilling weather.

From those days when we readily took
from them all of which they shared
while ’round the table of community we
partook of the meal that was prepared.

To their trusting welcome, we replied
with greed and want of possession
so much so that by force we took much
of their lands with egregious aggression.

Throughout the years this did continue,
this giving then taking back more,
until with little reservation they live
with minuscule resources left in store.

Dispersed amidst the clatter of our laws
with pride, strength, resilience, determination
First People have sought legal ways to
reclaim some of what was once their nation.

On this day, may we celebrate Thanksgiving,
by learning to judge our wealth by care—
not by what and how much we own—and
take steps toward a world we all can share.

The bird is now a pile of bones,
Potatoes and gravy all gone.
The meal of the year is over,
The one that's been cooking since dawn.

Football games have been won or lost,
The parades' last floats have passed on.
Nothing but reruns on tonight,
And cartoons from old days long gone.

But still we watch in placid glaze,
A soft calm has settled on all.
Who needs entertaining right now,
As Thanksgiving nighttime does fall?

We are stuffed and sated and full,
All gone are the cares of the day.
We drift in a euphoric haze,
As triptophan takes us away.

Brother Brother all are one
clothed in flesh under the sun
blood and sinues, heart and frame
all are one in natures name

Morning is the springtime of the day,
Awakening, rebirth, renewal.
Warm and fuzzy creatures, out to play,
The scampering of feet diurnal.

Midday can be thought the summertime,
For summoning up the resources.
A time of strength in the warmer clime,
Thus gathering up all our forces.

Gloaming brings us autumn's retraction,
Pulling in all tendrils from chilling.
Protect, retreat, nature's reaction,
In every creature instilling.

Winter, of course, comes with the darkness,
Huddling deep in our safe retreats.
Outside is the gloom and the starkness,
As we sleep til the pattern repeats.

Thus cycles within one another,
In endless arrays, ever-changing,
All prepared by all-knowing Mother,
In seemingly random arranging.

Hangin' out on the corner is,
A fine pastime that educates.
With poems from all walks of life,
It sometimes even leads to dates.

The subjects too are varied wide,
From love to hate and all between.
From flow'rs and trees to cars and boats,
It really is a happ'nin' scene.

It teaches and it entertains,
From minds and hearts around the globe.
With worlds of words that cross the seas,
To hit you in the frontal lobe.

Community, comraderie,
With comments kind in thoughtful prose.
Emoticons add style and flash,
Usually add some of those.

Sometimes our tears are brought to eyes,
From verses touching from the heart.
And others make us laugh out loud,
With silly lines from some ol' fart.

Twas my first trip to Ireland,
In fact, my only time abroad,
And it cost me every penny,
But was a choice I still applaud.

Oh, the trip was long and grueling,
Over twenty-four hours, in fact,
And I got there beat and hurting,
With the carry-on bag I'd packed.

But the people were delightful,
And the scenery rich and lush.
Time seemed to come to a standstill,
Without ever a need to rush.

While on my first trip to market,
For to buy a few things I'd need,
Some soap to wash the dishes,
Gave to me a broad grin indeed.

Printed there on the label,
Not dishwashing liquid, no,
"Washing-up" liquid named Fairy,
That is what it's called there, you know.

Now it may seem such a small thing,
If that was the name you knew,
But this old Yank from o'er the sea,
Well, I was charmed quite through and through.

I'm misery, how do you do.
I've no soul and no reflection.
And though I'll paint your world blue
You'll love my dark complexion.

Listen now and look at me
I've tales of woe and pain.
In ugliness, I find my glee
So please let me explain.

I want to share my hopelessness
A cloud of gloom above.
Dishonestly I won't confess
But company is all I love.

I've nothing nice to ever say
I'm brooding, dark and bitter
But when it comes to nastiness
I'll babble all atwitter.

Yes, look at me and see my view
As I wallow in my mire
And fingerpaint my filth on you
For it's all my heart's desire.

I need to drag you down with me
I cannot stand your light.
I'll snuff it out with vile glee
Till days are black as night.

I must persist till you begin
To you join me in your tears.
And I won't rest until I'm in
A world of hopeless peers.

We all have our limit,
Just how much we can take,
Til we blow a gasket,
Before we start to break.

Some go off so easy,
Their trigger is a hair.
Always on the threshold,
Without a nerve to spare.

I am not so touchy,
And can take quite a bit.
But when I've had enough,
There comes that raging fit.

Anger clouds the senses,
Throws judgement out the door,
Blows out of proportion,
And shakes us to the core.

So let's all try and see,
If we can raise the bar,
Maybe all together,
Perhaps prevent a war.