Daisies twisted into fantasy crowns and jewelry.
Honeysuckles permeating the nose, golden-buttery.
Sweet Honesty, when I was fresh and summery.
My spirit was the frenetic wind, a new storm exciting.
Shades of purple-yellow-green-pink polish, engaging.
Loose, the elbows-knees-hips-ankles-neck, sashaying.
Belly flop onto a gorgeous garden spread, a teen’s bed.
A record-player, all my own, spinning vinyl, ‘fore I wed.
What’s for dinner, left up to my mom; memories embed.
When wishes, were strewn in every direction, the seeds
of dandelions…when a natural glow, not internal, beads
lit up my face. Life before me, without a glimpse of weeds.
Now, I see clearly, the fresh trek of my progeny, assessing
various paths, as if there’s a purport that they’re following.
The fragrance of a bridal train; wisteria of vibrant blessing.
Surprisingly the sides we choose
And pretend are for protection
Are designed to be dividing groups
Accepting large deceptions
So remind me please what I should do
Consent to all corrections
Far as I can see no lives improve
Except when on consensus
They try to keep each side aloof
Preventing our Ascension
Them trifling thieves inside their rooms
Assessing our contention
To oblige their need to hide the truth
Or address their dark intentions
Until we line the streets and decide to move
For a quest beyond convention
Spend a billion dollars to get the boss elected
Won't fix one of my problems unless it's cost effective
Under cyanic horizon Sun sinks down, bids bye.
Twilight is welcomed by quiet evening sky.
In V-shaped design eager egrets to fly.
Sadness prevailing ! cawing crows cease to cry.
Me tangled in twilight , mesmerized.
Dusty dusk, wearing misty mask coming nigh.
To reflect sunrays soon Moon is sure to try.
Twilight will also tend to fade , feeling shy.
My forgotten past love whispering to sigh .
Me tangled in twilight , hypnotized.
Sun completes it's daily path from East to West
Weary birds stop chirping, seeking rest at nest.
Glow worms about to start glow warm at its best
Memories of amour are my best asset.
Me tangled in twilight, astounded.
After watching calm tranquil twilight.
Morose evening merging to turquoise night.
Bygone days, not always, brilliant bright.
Assessing loss or gain in grief and delight.
Me tangled in twilight, felt wounded.
Oh gaseous anomaly, of my digestion
Escapage from where, is the question
A topic of much fun, hilarity and jest
School boys compete, to see who's is best.
Velocity, decibels, and length of time.
All vital in assessing, if it's sublime.
But pinnacle of fustiness has to be.
Sprout, egg sarnies and over ripe brie
In conclusion a fart is truly an art
Enjoy it, embrace it, have a good fart.
A woodpecker pecked on our siding
And likely, won’t listen to chiding.
He left a few holes
Beyond our controls
In a place where we’re partly residing.
An expert came by for assessing
The damage where Woody’d been messing.
He spritzed with a spray
But could not really say
Why he’d pecked there, without simply guessing.
Our house by huge trees is surrounded,
So I am completely confounded
As to why all that wood
Wouldn’t seem just as good
As the siding on which he had pounded.
Flock Plus One
Crouching among a gaggle of
dabbling Canadian geese,
a brown skinned child pushes back
long black hair,
intent on building a tidal pool
of which he can be King.
Extending a ridiculously long neck,
a goose wades gingerly into the water,
snapping his wings forward in a fluster,
indignant with the cold.
Another approaches the boy curiously,
black eyes assessing the construction;
haughtily disinterested, it continues ambling
along the inlet.
The sporadic hiss and honking of a gander
whose life mate is being wooed by another
doesn’t faze the child,
methodically tapping his palms
along the outskirts of his pond.
Another goose watches him,
unconcerned,
from her nest on a muskrat mound,
tiny hatchlings in yellow down
chirp soundlessly.
Spittles of rain dust the child’s
ebony hair
and the gaggle’s black feathers.
The cluster huddles around the boy,
having seemingly accepted him
as one of their own.
Onward Christian soldiers
Armed with your risks and dares
Proclaiming your new year resolutions
Assessing your evolution
From all your years of resolving
Solving, dissolving and involving
With all your learning and experience
With your mastered resilience and expedience
From seasons of pain and agony
That birthed your compelling testimony
With memories of good old days
With hope of righteousness that pays
With seared assurance
Of peace within whatever turbulence
Of salvation availed to all men
Of God’s promises yes and Amen
Of the unchanging God even in changing times
Of His ever new mercies each morning in rhyme
Of His long life attested to by the years
That we welcome in pomp, color and cheers
Ever to the believer so sure a premium
Even 24 years into the millennium
And may we know what we live for
Even as we hope and pray for many more
*A HAPPY NEW AND PROSPEROUS 2024*
Everything’s been said before;
The goal’s to find a way
To tailor those familiar thoughts
To fit beneath your sway.
You choose a pattern and a swatch
Of fabric that appeals,
Then cut and stitch until, at last,
Your feelings it reveals.
Along the way, you change a word
Or rearrange a phrase,
Then try it on, assessing with
A slightly biased gaze.
When done, you snip the final thread
And put it on display,
Content to know you’ve said exactly
What you meant to say.
All knowing tree was silent, assessing the strangers
How had they gotten to this side of his forest?
He had heard no alarms, this was curious.
Watching the interlopers, he made some predictions.
The prissy one would leave when she saw a spider.
She left before that, when she saw a harmless snake.
The one in the weird hat would want to hug him.
He put his prickles out, so it would be difficult.
All knowing tree watched them slink back out
Away from the heart of the forest, into the light shadows
Why did no one warn me? He wondered.
Where were the birds? They were curiously absent.
Tuesday lasses
we all have classes
get up and go
there’s no time to waste
join the flow
there’s no reason to wait
everyone’s hustling
coffee guzzling
bus shuttling
paper shuffling
syllabus assessing
apple-watch checking
there’s a fall-like feeling
making things more appealing
file off of the bus
and join the crush
trudging up science hill
thru the doors up the stairs
climbing in pairs,
in class, at last,
setup and relax.
I open my binder
and hand in the assignment
the guy beside me can’t find it.
and the TA moves on
the guy’s upset and I get it
he’s frantic and grim
I pretend I’m not watching him
as he ransacks his rucksack
too late, they’re taking roll
carelessness takes its toll
He awoke in a fog, a cerebral maze
precisely fifty years from the days
of the battles over air and seas
Focusing his gaze, ruins all around
seeking in vain, a road out of town
Wide-eyed creatures with tails and CO2 feet
zoomed everywhere ~ he began to retreat...
Stopping by a riverbank, he paused for a drink
'til his senses were met by a terrible stink
Assessing the situation with his last drop of will
he inhaled more fertilizer ~ and lay deathly still
Swollen knees bring
fears of blocked tubes --
harbingers of destruction,
cold limbs, looming amputations.
Swollen knees bring
alternate explanations for pain –
cysts maybe? fears subside.
maybe just an infection…
Swollen knees bring
reminders of aging frames.
age-related deterioration,
speaks of a well-ripened life.
Swollen knees bring
streams of gratitude for
the many things knees can do.
joints of thanksgiving breaking through…
We went to different schools… together
walked on opposite sides of a street
that constituted an invisible border.
There were differences…..but not really.
We walked slowly, as if to spend time together,
assessing the others clothing, shoes, gait.
Eye contact was forbidden
as we had been warned…..about them
as they….about us.
Smiles were fleeting sorties into danger.
We found, as children do,
ways to challenge the guardians
a quickened pace….leading to
a foot race….a breaking from the norm,
a joyously shared connection
of shouts and flashing glances.
I am not sure who won the “race”,
I think we all did…us kids….truants
in the school of ancestral fears,
breaking the barrier of a paved border
streaking toward the finish line
stretched between two churches.
John G. Lawless
©9/12/2019
Back to school,
Back to classes,
The holiday is over,
Children are happy-sad,
Early to bed,
Refreshed and sound to arise,
New session, new scheme,
New session, new curriculum,
Teachers are back on their feet,
They are faced with the daunting task of strategizing,
Preparing lesson plans and notes,
Assessing and recording,
Dealing with students' misdemeanours,
It’s an uphill task,
Students are saddled with
assignments, projects and term papers,
They bury their heads in their books,
There’s a prize to obtain,
The bell chimes,
The rooms are empty,
The halls are deserted,
They’re back with their families,
It’s clockwork,
Until the term’s end.
August 24, 2022.
receding light induces shadows
twilight's hidden stars shine till dark
It's exhausting to reckon them
don't get lost assessing
less tasting the grace of time
not to fumble it on the daybreak
a pole star points in a precise way
millions of people travel in safety
since the dawn of time
Lost in the middle of a sea
approaching the coasts of land
no stars in the sky, no setbacks in life
drab and bereft of shine
shows you what's not there
hiding in plain sight
simply flowers, no fragrance
Written: April 26, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
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