True Advice
Give a reason,
Regardless of season.
Give a quote,
Not something rote.
Tell it true,
What one should do.
Keep it real,
Just how you feel.
A friend in need,
Will thank you, Indeed!
Sky
Moving too fast
Tripping off the high
Hoping it can last
Everlasting lullaby
Hoping it can last
The feeling of riding the sky
Take me away
And let me soar
Happiness
Sad nevermore
~.%
Poetry Marathon poem #7
Daaaaaddy,
Yes, darling
Tell me a story!
ok, my dear, I will.
About whhhaaaat?
How about the time
I met the potato
fairy?
the whooo?
I said,
the potato fairy.
That’s why I’m the best potato cooker.
Hm. You’re potatoes are really good.
But you’re every food is good.
Yeah, yeah.
But I’m the best potato cooker.
I met the fairy.
He told me so.
Whhaaat? I’ve never heard that one before.
Well, then settle down and sit tight
and I’ll regale you the tale.
When I was a kid
abbbout how old?
Oh, about a little bit older than you
I was cooking in the kitchen
with my lovely little kitten
potatoes in the pan
turnin’ golden and delicious
when a little bitty fairy
came by
whaaaaat did he say?
Oh, I’ll tell you what he said,
“Hey, can I try a fry?”
So I looked at my pan
and said
Sure, I’ve got enough
have a little or a lottle
its up to you.
whaaat did he do?
He took a healthy portion
and he sat out the table
and if you would
believe it,
he ate with a ladle.
whaaat’s a ladle?
well, it’s like a really big spoon.
waait, he ate his potatoes with a spoon
that doesn’t make much sense
a fairy at the kitchen table
had me and the kitten very perplexed
confused!
right!
whaaaat did he look like?
Well, he wore a very large hat
and he was very little,
and very fat
and he had a
mischievous look
in his eyes
but what happened next
I didn’t expect
and it very much
took me by surprise.
so what happened?
Well, he gobbled
and he hobbled
round the table
picking up and
putting down the plate
staring at the taters
with great scrutiny
in front of his face
Then he made a great commotion
and he jumped in wild motion
and I had the crazy notion
he liked the taste
whyyyy do you think that?
well he hooted
and he hollered
and he looked a little bothered
and a little hot under the collar
and he was panting
and sweating up a storm
he looked in my eyes,
and to my surprise
I could see his tears
welling up,
He said,
Son, those the best potatoes
I ever did taste
and I’ve tasted all of em
I’m not young
for I am the potato fairy
and I believe
I can say
I’m the only one.
iiii’ve never heard of a potato fairy.
I hadn’t either, before then.
The Business of Dirt and Dust
Welcome, welcome, step right up!
Let us show you treasures to ease your mind and comfort your soul.
Just bring your wallet, or bring your gold
We have all that your loved one would ever need or desire; for that journey into the great unknown.
On your right we have a lovely collection of breathtaking urns;
Intricately carved, masterfully crafted, passionately painted, brazenly bejeweled.
Take a look, take a look; you may want to take one home for the mantel
Just for a spin
On your left we have the most lavish artisanal boxes made of the finest wood;
Skillfully designed, lacquered to perfection, lined with the most luxurious satins, silks and velvets.
Customized to your requests; feel free to touch, feel free to linger
There’s no shame.
We are not the dealers of death
We are just here to ease your pain;
Please pay no mind to what we gain.
In this business of dirt to dirt and dust to dust,
It’s more important to show the world you care enough
To choose the most elaborate soulless vessel to house the remains.
Poem Ten
I set the flowers on the ground
I sit down by the flowers
I gently touch the stone
I’m afraid it will crumble
Your new resting place
Your new bed
Your life with me is gone
You are gone
Our house is not the same
Our bed is not warm anymore
Our closet still your clothes
Our bathroom still smells like you
I will always miss you
You will never come back
Our paths will cross in heaven
Malvern: Home
The Malvern Hills rise suddenly out of the stretching plains of the three counties,
Thirty miles long and humped like a prehistoric beast. They hold my eyes transfixed and bring imaginings to my mind:
One fancies the panoramic view from the back of a fire-breather, swifting over the land and alighting upon his destination.
A beacon burns on the Herefordshire summit to welcome him home with his quarry. But I have not been snatched for food or ransom.
I have been sought- a chosen one, graced with the skill to defend this part of the world from its would-be ruin.
For as long as I am held in the bastion, forged by the Earth’s great fault, the orchard apples will still be the sweetest in all the land.
A by-product of the spirit within me. An energy born of the love for my home- for my familial ties which I would perish to defend, even when, owing to my unnatural longevity, I’m only defending a memory.
Freedom
There’s a valley called Freedom, far away
Hardly loyal to the name, to this day
From the glorious peaks of the mountains
And the bubbling music of the fountains
Its people were slave to freedom
And engulfed in slavery’s boredom
The river, always so revolting in its ways
Suggested to the wind and its sways
They conspired against the bounds invisible
Bring them to light, make them visible
An earthbound, god-fearing
Gave birth to a girl daring
The grasslands and forever running fields
Cherished in her words and dreams
The sky smiled at her desire to fly
Her boldness to utter ‘why’
But Lord! Did it scare her mother!
And apprehended her brother
For it was dangerously dangerous
And the threats were numerous
It scared the people, it terrorized them
How she questioned; that freedom’s gem
How she dared inquire onto the origins of their chains
How could they recall all nature’s claims?
They were angered at the bounds
But fools! Turned the lesson around
Hunted freedom when their shackles did not break
Poured out her blood, dipped in their stake
The trees, tall and proud, bowed down shamefully
The birds chirped such melancholy
Malice and misery devoured freedom
And the people congratulated themselves on regaining boredom
But no, the shimmering river and the wind were no fools
They knew their young love had broken some rules ‘
For the seeds were sown for freedom to claim
And Freedom was then never the same
Poem Nine
Why do I try
For you to like me
You say you like me one day
But the next you make me an idiot
Yet I still try To make myself
Feel accepted,
That I’m needed,
By you
Why do I try
For you to accept me
When one day I’m in the click
But I turn my back you stab it
Yet I still try to make myself
Smarter,
Quieter,
Less difficult,
For you
Yet I still try
All for you
I could leave
But who would accept me
When the person I respect most
Can’t