Elegy Poems (75)

ONCE AGAIN ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN I DEEMED THIS HYBRID POETRY:

it's about strong white powder and existentially stronger gods
it's saying Grace in the face of fear
it's about long hours and long odds
and saving face when we shed a tear

we work in the steel mills
we stand on the corner of casual conversation and condemnation
popping pills for the thrills and shooting dope for some type of hope

we are the hopeful who have faith when hurt is horrific
as pain purport to be prolific
we are the ones who turn the gears of a galaxy for the unanimity of a univese
which every day becomes worse
and curse those whom contend that this is the way the world must be
when there are actions we could take to overcome adversity

and to deprive pity of the under-privilaged which lay us low

we are the crossing guards who guide the next generation across streets strewn with stones, bones and the moans of too many men who have come before them

the Minute Men,the soldiers at Gettysburg and those in Guantanimo Bay today
the armies that hold other armies at bay
so that youthfulness of yesterday can stay the strength of those who might oppose us
and presuppose the dangers which declare destitution to loved ones and strangers alike
we are the ones who strike against strife and picket a lack of pity

we live in intrepid towns and a citadel of cities that crisscross a land where loss is our enemy
and desperation results only in further frustration
we should be one town, one city one world and one love
and for anyone's edification
we should all become one singlular nation

I've heard people opine that God is dead
well i ain't one who needs God for hope
I ask where is God when a child goes un-fed
and then they ask why young Johnny and i shoot dope
(c) 2011.....~free cee!~

What should you do on a snowy day?
Don't ask your mom, is the first thing I will say.
It all happened on the 13th of December.
A very cold day, I'll always remember.

You see the snow was coming down fast.
I thought to myself - How long will this last?
For hours I paced around my room.
Each minute lasting longer, I filled with gloom.

At my lowest moment, feeling quite blue,
I gave up and ask my mom what to do.
She said, "I'm glad you asked and let me tell you why!"
Oh, she had this awful twinkle in her eye.

"Oh son, you've make me the happiest mom alive!
Now go out there and shovel the drive."
I put on a coat and zipped it up tight.
I gave into her request without a fight.

I started out plowing; it's really a cinch.
Then I look around and only uncovered an inch.
Those snowflakes kept falling, one by one.
This is horrible, when will I be done?

My hands were frozen and my feet were numb.
Asking my mom what to do, sure was dumb.
I worked and worked and shoveled away.
I finally was finished, too cold to hooray.

I came in the house and fell to the floor.
My mom saw that I had finished my chore.
My teeth started to chatter, my body started to shake.
My mom took one look at me and said, "You need a break!"

"You shoveled the drive just like a pro.
How about some cookies and hot cocoa?"

I ate and drank and feeling a little better.
I changed my clothes and put on a sweater.
I've learned from this - here's a clue.
Never, never ask your mom What can I do?

Now my heart is sore
"No pain, no gain"
Feeling my doubtful core
I think to myself:
Let´s start over again!!!
All by yourself!!!
The Death Screen covering your face
Guiding you to another place
Denying any kind of pleasure
Disliking my living treasure

Once a Junior School teacher asked her students to bring some potatoes in a plastic bag to school. Each potato will be given a name of the person whom that child hates. Like this, the number of potatoes will be equal to the number of persons they hate. On a decided day, the children brought their potatoes well addressed. Some had two, some had three and some had even five potatoes.The teacher said they have to carry these potatoes with them everywhere they go for a week. As the days passed the children started to complain about the spoiled smell that started coming from these potatoes. Also some students who had many potatoes complained that it was very heavy to carry them all around. The children got rid of this assignment after a week, when it got over.



The teacher asked, "How did you feel in this one week?" The children discussed their problems about the smell and weight. Then the teacher said, "This situation is very similar to what you carry in your heart when you don't like some people. This hatred makes your heart unhealthy and you carry that hatred in your heart everywhere you go. If you can’t bear the smell of spoiled potatoes for a week, imagine the impact on your heart of this hatred that you carry throughout your life…



MORAL:

* Our heart is a beautiful garden that needs a regular cleaning of unwanted weeds.*

Forgive those who have not behaved with you as expected and forget the bad things.

This also makes room available for storing good things



HAVE A LOVELY POTATO-FREE WEEK!!

granny is sitting in her old rocking chair
the coal fire simmering bright ,puffs of smoke rising up the chimmney
granny sits in her rocking chair
in her granny slippers warming her self by the coal fires light

dark is the room the silences the cold dampness of the chill from the world out side
the black and white tv switched on with its lighted screen white and hissing to be played again

the old cukoo clock on the wall chimes
the passing hours on the hour every hour
breaking the silence all around
granny sits in the darkness rocking to and throw in her favorite
chair

sitting silent not knowing who is there
the poorly dim lite room its darkend old fashiond wall paper falling the decay lying around what a pitfull site to be hold ,the knocking on the windows from outside children playing knock knock
oh what a nouisence they are

granny iqnores them hoping they will go away
thinking of her childhood her youth snathced away, her youth gone for ever,just taken away ,locked in her old age only with
her memories locked inside her mind so no one can see
for shes the only one with the key

the monarch of the glen he stands
his mighty antlers defiant raised above his head
his pearcing black eyes looking striaght a head
his magnificent dark brown fur gleeming in the sun

his large black nose smells the air looking
listening for the minor rustle of noise or breath of human smell
looking over his domain that monarch of the glen
his female deers all in toe follow where ever he go

the glint of the sun on his antlers shining bright as he stand in the
day light the freshness of the country air the heat of the midday sun
gently standing sometimes sitting on the ground resting in the miday sun
chewing on the green lush grass munching having fun his do not disturb sign on his door hes haveing fun

in the back ground the dark green thick trees there they can run and hide from the humans they stare watching listening glaring he watches and waits
protecting his females he watches and waits
for signs of human presence and off he goes in to the woods they all go out of sight
now hidden out of sight

i love the sun i hate the cold
i especially hate the rain
the wet water on my face on my lovely coat and shoes
cold and damp i feel the rain

falling from the sky maybe shower or large drops of rain
sometimes ice mixed in the rain
when i was a child i loved the rain
with my wellies on dancing in the rain

splashing in the large puddles of rain
as a child i was free to dance in the rain
the water on my face and covering my body with the rain
now as an adult the fun has gone

no more i longer for the rain
with my brolly in hand i dont dance any more the fun as gone
no more dancing in the rain
things to do dashing here dashing there
more important things to do

He sits at his blank canvas pondering what to paint
Brushes ready he ponders what to paint
will it be a land scape today pondering he thinks
resting his head on his knee he thinks

he looks at the views all around deciding on his view today
a nice water view he desides to do today
boats floating up and down on the water
the calmness of the gentle floating water seagulls flying over head

the gentle sea breeze the coldness of the day
he warms his hands to take away the chill
with brushes in hands,he paints away

his background color white of course
he covers his canvass in no time at all
ready to start he draws his figures he moulds his scene like the paccso he his, gentley sketching his figures come to life boats there
figures there, seagulls of course floating in the air

his talent has no bounds a paccaso he is
now with brushes in hand he slowly lovingly glides his brushes like a work of art painting many colors on his work of art
slowly he builds up his picture brightly lite colors

his picture opens wide to let spectators view inside his work of art
now open to view
now finished and open to view
they come and stir and glare at his art some smile some people laugh
they stare containtly for major detail all looking at his art

with a beaming smile and pride, he joins them and smiles looking at his art

- for Jaime Escalante

The Calculus of caring for
the multitudes of disadvantaged.
Don't say no, say I know.
Get up off the poor streets
and show these people here
that you have learned lessons
and are ready to stand on your
own and deliver positive life.
Show them that being down
is not being left out of
the mathematics of good life.
Count the times you have gotten up.
Give motivation and receive hope.
Ganas come to those who practice.



© agoodguy2have 2010-03-31

THE GENTLE MOTION OF THE RIPLING WAVES
THE BACK AND FORTH OF THE TIDE
THE PEBBLES ON THE SEA SHORE STACKED IN ROWS
THE UNDULATING SAND BENEATH MY FEET

BAREFOOT AM I, WALKING ON THE BEACH
ALONG THE WATERS EDGE
THE GENTLE WATERS ,WASHING, BATHING MY FEET AS I GO BYE
THE COLDNESS OF THE SEA THE HEAT OF THE MID DAY SUN
THE GENTLE BREEZE OF THE SUMMERS DAY

THE PEACEFULLNESS OF THE LONESOME BEACH
THE RUSTLE OF THE LEAVES THE SWAYING BRANCHES
THE BIRDS SINGING IN THE TREES
SEAGULLS OVER HEAD THEIR CALLING SOUNDS TO ONE AND ALL

AT PEACE AM I AS I STROLL ALONG THE BEACH
THE PASSING SHIPS SAILING AS THEY GO BYE
AS I GAZE INTO THE DISTANCE NO ONE TO BE SEEN ALONE AM I ON THIS DESERTED BEACH