High above the ocean
Below being a sandy white beach
Easy to watch
One can sit all day and observe
The beach goers, Swimmers and Surfers
The ocean view stretchers for miles
One can reflect back in time
The simple and plan life
No riches in thought of Robin Leech
The Lonely house had fancies
A house with a roof and a place to sleep and eat
Just the fruits of one’s labor
Ocean to house
This lonely house had nothing before it was brought
It looked like shack filled with nothing
Once a dweller brought, it was given new life
Renovated having everything in what a house deserves
A place to be proud of and everlasting living
It took patience and of course the right contractor
Specifications were right and all the construction equipment needed
A lonely medium house because a much bigger house
Where one can admire and enjoy for life
Solid foundation
A dream through reality
No longer a lonely house
House friendly with no mouse
A house back then
Showing what solid as a rock can be
Calm breezes and relaxed souls
The aroma of sugar and spice
What could be so nice.
Look out you might see them
scuttling down your street
patting the neighbour’s dog
nodding to people they meet
They lurk on hospital corridors
wearing their black shiny shoes
then scour obituary columns
for all their latest news
They follow people on stretchers
to sickbeds, funerals, and wakes
asking for extra cups of tea
turning their nose up at cake
They might just take an interest,
if you should start to feel ill
checking on your temperature
your welfare and your will
So, keep your curtains closed tonight
lock all your windows and doors
the graveyard groupies are coming
it’s you they’re looking for…
So this be the day after
nineteen forty-one
Be December the eighth, the
nightmare has begun.
Pearl Harbor still in blazes
all watched the Pearl dull,
Bodies are everywhere, some
crawl or ... not at all.
Some boats are okay, though they're
mostly smaller ships,
Large ones burning, some capsized ...
need to come to grips.
"We are having our jobs cut
out for us, Franklin,"
"Do you think my namesake has
some sort of game plan."
"They sure dropped on us, we should
put the drop on them."
"Government can make something
we can throw at 'um
"Infamy, Frank's way over
there, and it's just us."
"Last I heard, all his four son's
giving dad justice."
"Serving somewhere ... let's holster
the guns." "Right, a-ha!"
"Don't need 'um carrying the
stretchers, GO!" "Oorah!"
How wisdom of a young king flourishing
like watered flowers.
Quote by poet.
Sometimes some people praise their leaders
After winning some great battles.
When King Mndala Chimbalanga
Won the war against King Kalonga
All the Yao people celebrated and
Some selected
Warriors carried
Their King on different stretchers
In singing glorious songs
Days and nights.
They gave him different glorious names
Due to well conducted the warriors
For ten years and
Ended up victorious.
May 27/2023
[September: we mourn the existence of death that stroll
towards father's eyes, but we'll keep outstriding this storm]
My beloved drew nectars from the stretchers
of my smile & was lifted.
in my ship,
she sails through the raging storm
& grief lost all hope of her.
My beloved sang me a song
the art of her hone voice
leaves my spirit winding for success
in the hands of god.
My beloved pours her heart
to be ravished by my Majesty
even when fortunes seems to shroud
his face from the atmosphere of lights.
My beloved write to hope a poem
sing him a song of 'strive'
that make me quell the storm
the universe boast of.
At dawn-shiny street
my beloved tune the rhythm of a distant pop
& my name was soundtrack by the lips of widowbirds
& she rustle to the winds a lyrics of salvation.
In the Darkened Foyer
There you are again.
Walking this darkened foyer, and that carpeted hallway,
Eyeing the sunken-eyed dancer who forgets she’s not alive;
She’s just passing by all the sickness of dissipated humanity,
Wrapped in a single walk, and a solitary stretcher,
With a squadron of crucifixes affixed to the skin tags,
Applied with holy powders on these ancient, prayer-eaten walls,
These never-ending white walls that stretch before us,
Telling stories of prolonged death spasms, and postponement,
Of human decline in the face of the hopeful ones,
And the healing ones, with shocked knowing grins,
And the comatose ones, who know when to at last wake up;
Wake up! I say to the dead ones, the digested ones, long interred!
Now is the time to move your monuments and your dirt.
Now is the time to complain to the clock, the cold twitching clock,
That now holds no eternal sway in either direction for you or me!
Or all the dead ones, lying over there on solitary stretchers,
Under white sheets, in the darkened foyer.
Her heart is located in every part of her being
and bones, calcified with the vitamins of meekness.
Peace begins and ends her collection of any intention
and her reaction, irrespective of situation
always avoids its rights of being thorough.
Softer than a hot dough, and more flexible than a rubber band
even in the midst of hungry chewers
and the threat from playful band stretchers
she holds strong to the emblem of her personality
putting the eyes of calm in a shock dilation
to the awe of her tolerance and irritability.
If nations were like her, humanity would have no scar
her deeds incarcerate pride and incriminate greed
with an intuition structured by static trees
beside a slow moving river
enveloped by the faint whistling of happy resting birds.
The healthy mystery of such an existence
adds royalty to the privilege of being human
because she gets hurts
only when the devil himself directly strikes
with the mercenaries of hell yet unknown to possible actuality.
A long neck giraffe,
I saw at the zoo.
And I wished my head
could be up high, too!
Daddy, I asked,
Why is my neck so small?
I want a giraffe's neck,
long and tall.
Then I could touch
the sky so blue,
just like the giraffe's
with his neck-tall view.
I need a neck stretcher.
Daddy, please get me one.
To be high up in the air,
would be so much fun!
Suddenly, Up! Up! Up!
I felt myself rise!
With my head in the clouds,
I was no longer kid sized.
Next to the giraffe,
I sat proud and tall.
My daddy's the best
neck stretcher of all.
Returned...no home and shaken by the past
Awaken lonely and reduced to quick sand
I try to stand up facing Fate once more
Indifferent audience then... Now? a silent, curious watch...
I feel my arms again against a stronger will
to grab the dream and get up off this wheel chair
that blocked my Soul and stole my years away
and turned a dream of roots into a no-man's-land
I'm seeing so much BEAUTY I can even fly
I don't need legs or stretchers to peek and see it - the Above
In closing eyes the liquid turns to ground
I walk on Happiness as crowds will only pray..
DREAMTIME: STATE FAIR OF MIND
the barren vendor
sold wishes
to those
hoping
to
forget
at the back of the room
wizened old men
sat together on a bench
across from old fur hats
tricornes and hamburgs
bowlers and fedoras
high hats, admiral hats
and others
too rare
for my knowledge
or experience
all positioned firmly
on
head stretchers
covered in dust
a reminder
linking the past
now
the old Black man
who governed this booth
sold large
round chocolate bars
handmade
of finest quality
he offered my friend one
but
strangely
ignored me
everyone
gathered in the field
as wagons passed by
on parade
the
atmosphere
was quite gay
carnival like
friends
waving to each other
no
one
recognized
me
Shards of glass catch the sun's fluid rays,
reflecting tiny rainbows into human eyes.
Twisted shells of metal vehicles
lie bleeding in the midst of human flies.
Anguished cries haunt the fragile ears,
while the pavement drinks the juice of life.
Cops converge upon this scene of carnage,
sweeping up after this collision of strife.
Sirens moan through the gathering crowd,
demanding entrance to this play of sorrow.
Broken lives are loaded upon stiff stretchers,
and some lose the chance to see tomorrow.
The shattered pieces of molded metal
are towed quickly away to free congested cars.
Silently, this accident vanishes from fractured news,
a lesson forgotten in the reign of wars.