Condemned For Loving Too Much

Poetry Palace Award

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“Condemned for Loving too Much”

All was quiet in this forgotten town,

Because of the record snow tumbling down,

Yet in the plaza crowds were shopping still,

Looking for entertainment to get their fill,

There were walkers, and talkers, shops all ablaze,

Restaurants still open but countless delays,

Marge was waiting patiently and talking to a friend,

This day had been perfect, she didn’t want it to end,

Somehow, she noticed him, standing off from the crowd,

His gray eyes fixed on her, haughty and proud,

His brown coat, his lean frame, the thin twisted nose,

Why she alone could see him, she could only suppose,

His eyes asked questions, the answers she didn’t dare,

What kind of man was he? One that didn’t care?

Was he an angry ghost or a demon of some kind?

Why were his thoughts penetrating her mind?

Somehow in his hands he held her new fate,

She thought, “Is it possible to love someone you hate?”

As this thought surfaced, Marge pushed it away,

She had never seen him before, not until today,

“He is not attractive,” she thought, “not in the least,”

But he continued to stare at her like she was a feast,

Her face flushed, and deep within the heat began,

Rising in waves until perspiration ran,

She was uncomfortable, she needed time to think,

But he watched her diligently, not once did he blink,

“Is it possible to love your enemy?” she thought,

“What is it about me that’s so eagerly sought?”

She was thirty-three years old for goodness sake,

And ten pounds too heavy, give or take,

Yet she was flattered by his attention even more,

Unlike her friends, all her faults he chose to ignore,

He willed her to move forward, but he didn’t insist,

Although she closed her eyes, she was helpless to resist,

Silently Marge turned, her demon she faced,

When he smiled, her legs trembled, her heart raced,

She took one step forward, two, then three,

She unbuttoned her blouse, letting him see,

She hated him and yet she was offering her kind,

Melting into love, her body yielding to his mind,

Seeking his hatred, demands, contempt to slay,

Doing what she could, loving his hate away,

An act of love determined Marge’s fate,

Is it possible to love, someone you hate?

All is quiet again in this forgotten town,

But there is one less demon standing around,

No one wants to question or be out of touch,

Should Marge be condemned for loving too much?

GOOSE DROPPINGS

Goose Droppings

As politicians search for more money

To create magical castles in the sky,

All that they say and all that they do

Are illusions that are sometimes called lies.

In a land far away and a long time ago

A farmer and his family lived a peaceful life.

He got along with his neighbors

And he got along with his wife.

He had a beautiful goose

That laid big eggs of gold.

He tried to keep the goose a secret

But the secret was exposed when someone told.

One day a car stopped at the farmer’s house.

A man in a fancy suit got out and looked around.

He wrote numbers in his computer

Then screamed, “Look, what I found!

You haven’t reported your eggs of gold.”

The farmer wanted to argue but he wasn’t bold.

The farmer tried to explain his oversight,

But the government man was not appeased.

“I’ll make this right if it takes all night!”

When morning came the g-man took the goose.

And the golden eggs, he took those too.

He smiled and said, “You still owe lots of gold,

But with three jobs you might make it through.”

That g-man left brochures on organic gardening,

With instructions on how to use it.

And every autumn the g-man sends buckets of droppings,

Labeled  “COMPOST” or just plain (    ).

The tax people kept the gold

But estimated the earnings and the cost,

For organic droppings are very special,

If none of the nutrients are lost.

The farmer urges everyone to heed his story

And keep records regarding each and every bit.

He says, “Label everything  they have or they’ll be sorry,

Very clearly they should write,“COMPOST” or just plain (    ).

October 12, 2017

 

 

DREAMS OF WAR AND HATE

 provokes,

Dreams of wars and dreams of hate,

Flow through me at an alarming rate.

Is this the calm before the storm,

That will ultimately seal our fate?

We’ll see! We’ll see!

The eye of the hurricane is passing through,

Hurry, get inside! The winds are returning for me and you!

Those who glorify war and play its game,

Have forgotten that war’s a beast and difficult to tame.

War and hate leave destruction in their wake,

It doesn’t seem to matter how many lives they take.

I don’t believe this is the calm that precedes the storm,

For this storm is smaller is riddled with lies.

But I see a great storm with power greater than the norm.

One that provokes enemies but I anticipate hate built from

Collusion and calculations and attacks from within.

The costs of war are staggering,

But in the past when we were knocked down,

We faced our terrors and got up round after round.

There are no guarantees and this time may be different.

Are we in the calm before the storm?

We’ll see!  We’ll see!

October 10, 2017

 

STEPHANIE

Stephanie

She says, “The bluebird of happiness gave her the bird.”

Or  “life can be peachy or the pits.”

She has interesting ways to describe her life.

Although some days may be rough, she is tough,

And very positive.

She wants her primary focus to be family,

Kind and loving,

Working as a team,

Instead of fighting and feuding,

And letting off steam.

Married twenty years, she frequently talks about her two daughters,

And how important they are in her life.

Stephanie’s a delightful combination, Swedish and Italian,

Filled with energy.

Stephanie is a true blond, an Aries, fiery, dizzy and strong,

Laughing at her own confusion and always smiling,

Her co-workers confirm she is very knowledgeable

Very caring and helpful with patients.

She loves to read but she says she doesn’t practice wordition,

although after a small glass of wine,

she becomes super outgoing with an occasional slip of the tongue.

She wanted to be a correctional officer

But chose to work in the medical field.

Although Stephanie has been employee of the year

she wants to go back to school.

This time she wants to return in a Camero.

A girl’s gotta have a dream or two.

September 19, 2017

PAGES OF MY JOURNAL

PAGES OF MY JOURNAL

 

INVISiBLE, Page One

 

She doesn’t see me sitting there,

She stares and stares at an empty chair.

Does the day start too early to catch her eye?

What should I do to make her aware of me?

Or should I try?

My life is made up of distinct pages.

There was the incident regarding the hamster.

I hated to see its demise;

And the page regarding the neighbor’s cat,

I have no vocabulary to describe that.

So much to learn from the cat, but now it’s gone, that darn cat!”

The dog was a remarkable mutt,

Winning several hearts with an unflappable eagerness

From the day she appeared.

The dog belonged to someone , or to no one,

It didn’t matter at the time.

Until the story was over, I didn’t have time to check her out.

The hurricanes were the real story and I focused on them.  I’m not good at story telling so I’ll just tell my story kind of relaxed, kind of like I am. If you get confused I’ll try to explain when I have time but you have to realize that I’m not as good as the others.

THE AFTERMATH OF HURRICANE ONE

As people ran from one house to the other they left things behind.

Maybe that was how Tripod, named after a three -legged camera stand, got rescued. She was simply left behind and tried to follow her owners, or maybe the water got high enough and she escaped her cage.

I did notice she did not like men. When I pulled her from the water she tried to bite but her teeth were gone, knocked out by someone in a bad mood. Her right hind leg hung limply and appeared to be unfit for use.  At least I never saw her try to use it   I decided she had been terribly mistreated. I wrapped a blanket around her and forgot she was there for a while.

Although at first she tried desperately to get away, she began to settle down. As we paddled around the streets looking for peoplewho were trapped, I began to feel new strength in my arms and legs.  I wasn’t used to helping others and this just felt right.

 

“Yes, I was living again, and words written on the pages proved my existence. Now, if I can find a woman to keep me warm and happy, my life will be better than I ever imagined.

September 20, 2017

By Dan

 

PAGE TWO

I was sure I heard a sound, but I was alone and no one was around.

I couldn’t decide whether it was my imagination or a person, or the creaking and groaning of another house being lifted from its foundation. I was ready to turn back but I heard the sound again, this time closer. I still had no evidence that something was alive, and  I was in dangerous waters. I wasn’t sure which way to go anymore. Most of the rescuers had retreated for the night and I didn’t see anybody around. With luck maybe I would find someone drifting in the currents and I could rescue them and me at the same time. unless it was a crew of crazy weathermen proving they could stay alive during a storm, I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet people who were possibly armed and dangerous, prepared to take over a small boat. I had gone through floods and storms before, and I had seen many people lose their cool when their lives were in danger.

The sound was nearby and I worked my way around a tree that had fallen between two houses.  The tree was on the verge of lifting up and moving downstream. The water was pushing the tree and the houses, and I could feel the tree shudder as smaller objects struck. The sound I was hunting for, began again, but this time in rhythm.  I tied my boat to the tree and went inside the first house.  Two people, their eyes large and frightened, grabbed me. I was afraid they might make me a victim also if they didn’t let go. Before I could swing a branch at them I saw their senses were returning. I urged them into the boat, and despite worrying about leaving them with my boat and supplies,  I went into the second house. Four children moved towards me and I carried one at a time into the boat. The houses and the tree were beginning to shift and the two adults were standing up in the boat, trying to unloose the knot.  Just in time! I told both to sit down or I would throw them overboard.  We had gone less than twenty feet when the two houses lost their grip on the tree.  Both houses slipped into the current just behind us and I started the boat motor.  The extra weight of six made the boat slower and the houses began gaining on the boat, but I refused to panic. I still had to redeem myself.

Another page to keep my thoughts organized. PAGE THREE

Dawn was near and the two houses had gained speed as the stream widened.  The rain continued pouring down and I felt helpless.  The six people wanted to get out of the boat and I was tired of their complaints. Maybe I should throw one overboard so they understood the seriousness of the situation.  While I mulled this concept the little dog stuck her head out from under the blanket.  She was shivering and looked like she was starving. The two adults and the four children had worn out their welcome but the dog could stay. I liked dogs.

There was a television crew filming the destruction for their morning show.  They focused on us as we motored slowly by. One of the newsmen called out, “you’d better get to shore. You’ll be running into a sea of debris in a few minutes.  Why are you out this early? The rules were clear.  You only endanger other rescuers when you don’t follow directions.”

On television some crews had helped bring survivors to shore or kept the pilots informed as to the exact     locations of those needing help.  The teams of rescuers would prepare their supplies as the helicopters  circled, survey the area for hazards, and lower their baskets. The rescuers worked efficiently, working in groups, while this television crew did nothing to help and only succeeded in putting themselves in harm’s way. For example, three of the television crew climbed into their boat and sped off looking for an exciting interview.

The military teams were still getting organized and now I saw the mass of trees and house parts ahead.  It seemed like forever but the sky cleared for a few minutes, allowing one helicopter to slip beneath the clouds. The crew was efficient and quick, knowing that their time was limited. Three times the basket lowered and lifted the six to the hovering copter. Then the army group waved and disappeared into the returning clouds.

PAGE FOUR

Alone at last, just me and the dog. The boat was lighter and I negotiated my way through the debris.  I didn’t get far before I came across the t.v. crew and they were in trouble. One of the newsmen had tried to slow their boat by grabbing a tree branch. The front of the boat rose up and the back sank deeper.  “Let go of the branch before you sink your boat,” I yelled. He released the branch and the boat continued down the stream. I pulled up alongside of them and saw they had a rope.  I towed them back to their starting point.

 

HARK! WAS THAT A SHOT?

HARK! WAS THAT A SHOT?

I think I heard rifles firing,

Shots heard round the world.

Then screaming,and angry words,

But that memory was in the distance,

years ago when Vietnam was in bloom,

Peaceful assembly, it was our right.

But shots were fired in broad daylight.

Four students lay dead, dangerous students,

Students, soldiers, NFL, lend me your ear.

Do you have anything to fear?

Our distinguished leader was angry and hot.

He despised those who were not.

Now, someone cut from the same mold

said, “Fire the “Sons of …………..!”

“Get rid of those who don’t obey.

If they dissent they should leave today!”

years ago, national guardsmen were told to turn and fire,

killing those dangerous students, taking American blood,

killing two women and two men who didn’t disperse fast enough.

It was only then that students understood that peaceful assembly

Was only allowed in groups of one, or maybe not even one,

Because even one can protest and draw attention to inadequacies.

But, if one speaks up and has questions or concerns,

If he still doesn’t understand, he should ask again.

Knowing that he is a target of those who want to control all who are free.

Kent state’s students, soldiers, found death that day,

They thought war was somewhere else and faraway.

But death runs with anger and is here to stay.

Forest fires, floods, hurricanes, disasters all,

We watch them dance closer and closer,

Waiting and watching until it’s too late

And the disasters are larger than we could anticipate.

Too little, too late, while children are starving for goodness sake,

The people are hungry and the leader says, “Let them eat cake!”

Private planes are heading to hot vacation spots,

While the leader spouts, “We’re doing a beautiful thing,

Taking care of Houston, Florida, and other places fit for a king.”

He says everything’s under control, as long as his ratings are rising in the latest poll.

As long as no one kneels, seeks justice, or looks the leader in the eye,

Ignoring countries that are trying to foment civil war and bring the USA down.

Please open up hospitals and see if an antidote can be found,

Because severe cases of stupidity are surely going around.

September 30, 2017

 

WHO

WHO?

I’m a who

A person who cares

When a leader treats

His fellow citizens with disrespect.

Misinterpreting deliberately

And ignoring Constitutional rights.

I didn’t see disrespect on the field.

Just the opposite. I saw pain in faces

Of those who love their country and their God.

They met as team members united and proud.

They weren’t burning anything or cursing outloud.

They didn’t disrespect their neighbors or anyone in the crowd.

But someone dared shame these men as they made their claim,

Someone dared disrespect Americans and drenched them with shame,

These were the same men who side by side with American soldiers

And rescued numerous victims trapped in their homes,

Helped with cleanup operations night after night.

Did they do something wrong while they were doing things right?

These brave men united together to point out what needs to be done,

Isn’t it time for peace and setting aside the gun.

The wars are over and it’s time to clean up after the storms,

Just like soldiers, teammates, strong leaders, and all,

We are the examples for the world to see.

Especially how a leader treats you and me.

September 26, 2017

 

 

 

UNCOMFORTABLE

UNCOMFORTABLE

You say all who disagree

Should leave the country

But I remember hearing you say

Long ago at another harsh time

That you would defend to the death

the right of someone to speak out.

What makes you uncomfortable now?

The protests are not against country or flag

But against racism and violation of rights.

It’s not about our troops or athletes

But learning to talk again in calm discussion,

Our children would benefit from hearing debate

Where anger and hostility are banned along with hate.

No one wants to leave but many want to arrive and stay.

Our country was founded on freedoms we needed

Freedom of speech, let’s talk. Freedom of assembly, let’s stand

And enjoy the freedoms that have been given by blood and tears.

September 25, 2017

I KNOW HE CAN’T FLY

How did he rise so high?

I know he can’t fly.

Is he the joker, too,

Doing dastardly deeds

And pretending to be true?

He is a poor example

For a nation to follow.

He spouts obscenities

And his truths are hollow.

Where is the would-be king

Who looks after his sheep?

Maybe he’s in Russia fast asleep.

He demands the right

To speak his mind,

While insisting those that differ

Remain mute and blind.

He ignores minorities

Unless they wear white,

And the rest of the free

Should stay in at night.

There’s a rumor about a national purge,

He might be the only one left

If he gets the urge.

GHOSTS OF OUR ANCESTORS

Where are the heroes that are rising from the earth?

Where are the youth who have ignored the truth?

The heroes and youth are no longer brave,

The truth is dead and buried in graves.

And ghosts of our ancestors are crying, crying, crying.

The truth is no longer remembered or respected.

And each of us prepares for civil war,

No longer do we listen like we did before.

We hear our own words and cut other words short.

And ghosts of our fathers come marching, marching, marching.

There are rumors of blood being shed in the hills,

There are dreams of street battles just for the thrills.

There are fingers poised to blast away,

Neighbors and relatives killed if they get in the way.

And the hearts of our fathers are bleeding, bleeding, bleeding.

We could be the heroes that are rising from the earth,

We could be the ones who respect the truth.

It will be our blood that will stain the soil,

Until our hatred ceases to boil.

And our ghosts are satisfied with

Crying, crying, crying

bleeding, bleeding, bleeding

marching, marching, marching.

Dying. dying, dying.

The ghosts will be satisfied when all is quiet and still.

September 24, 2017

Dan Roberson

 

DON’T YOU AGREE?

Our country is strong because we agree

On the same principles.

Our country is even stronger because we can disagree

And accept our differences.

Should we agree and march to the same tune

We square our shoulders and see eye to eye.

But if we disagree we hold our heads high,

Because Ideas discussed and digested

Allow us to fly.

To break the shackles of all and stand tall for what is right,

is the strength of our country, not military might,

or the ability to fight.

If we defend minorities, differences, questions,

And all that ensues,

We prove all people are equal,

No matter what we do.

It’s our country whether right or wrong,

It is not a dictatorship that tells us what to do.

It is our differences that make us strong.

United we stand, divided we fall

That is the truth and it applies to all.

September 23, 2017

 

DON’T YOU AGREE?

 

Our country is strong because we agree

On the same principles.

Our country is even stronger because we can disagree

And accept our differences.

Should we agree and march to the same tune

We square our shoulders and see eye to eye.

But if we disagree we hold our heads high,

Because Ideas discussed and digested

Allow us to fly.

To break the shackles of all and stand tall for what is right,

is the strength of our country, not military might,

or the ability to fight.

If we defend minorities, differences, questions,

And all that ensues,

We prove all people are equal,

No matter what we do.

It’s our country whether right or wrong,

It is not a dictatorship that tells us what to do.

It is our differences that make us strong.

United we stand, divided we fall

That is the truth and it applies to all.

September 23, 2017