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mgyOQGe

Smoke? No thanks.
I don’t want to be
A chimney.

Chew? No thanks.
I don’t want to be
A spittoon.

Drugs? No thanks.
I don’t want to be
Just a dope.

——————–

photo by Sanja Gjenero at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mgyOQGe/bad+habit

————-

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

 

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They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead,
They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed.
I wept, as I remembered, how often you and I
Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky.

And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest,
A handful of grey ashes, long long ago at rest,
Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake;
For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.

aborted baby

(thoughts of the one who supports abortion murder)

None else should on another body bind.
Don’t take from women their nice right to choose.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

It’s not for me. But with them I’m aligned.
It is her body save for that she’ll bruise.
None else should on another body bind.

A woman’s life should not be so confined
That what she wants for self she then would lose.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

My sense of right and wrong is not assigned
To those bent on assigning death’s dark hues.
None else should on another body bind.

Her life, if not, would be a horrid grind.
So rip and tear the little baby shoes.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

To all except the woman, I am blind
To think of other lives would just confuse.
None else should on another body bind.
I have a noble mind and think I’m kind.

—————————————————————-

© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

Come thou, who art the wine and wit
Of all I’ve writ;
The grace, the glory, and the best
Piece of the rest;
Thou art of what I did intend
The All, and End;
And what was made, was made to meet.
Thee, thee my sheet.
Come then, and be to my chaste side
Both bed and bride.
We two, as reliques left, will have
One rest, one grave;
And, hugging close, we need not fear
Lust entering here,
Where all desires are dead or cold,
As is the mould;
And all affections are forgot,
Or trouble not.
Here, here the slaves and prisoners be
From shackles free;
And weeping widows, long opprest,
Do here find rest.
The wronged client ends his laws
Here, and his cause;
Here those long suits of Chancery lie
Quiet, or die;
And all Star-chamber bills do cease,
Or hold their peace.
Here needs no court for our Request
Where all are best;
All wise, all equal, and all just
Alike i’th’ dust.
Nor need we here to fear the frown
Of court or crown;
Where fortune bears no sway o’er things,
There all are kings.
In this securer place we’ll keep,
As lull’d asleep;
Or for a little time we’ll lie,
As robes laid by,
To be another day re-worn,
Turn’d, but not torn;
Or like old testaments engrost,
Lock’d up, not lost;
And for a-while lie here conceal’d,
To be reveal’d
Next, at that great Platonic year,
And then meet here. 

 

nIQBMmg

End Road Work.
It seems it’s a lie.
It goes on.

— 

End Road Work!
We all command it –
Our desire.

— 

End Road Work?
No, we all know it’s
Eternal.

——————–

photo by Robert Linder at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nIQBMmg/Construction

—————————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

—————————–

© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

Supinely we lie in the grove’s shady greenery,
Gazing, all dreamy-eyed, up through the trees, –
And as to the sight is the heavenly scenery,
So to the hearing the sigh of the breeze. 

We catch but vague rifts of the blue through the wavering
Boughs of the maples; and, alike undefined,
The whispers and lisps of the leaves, faint and quavering,
Meaningless falter and fall on the mind. 

The vine, with its beauty of blossom, goes rioting
Up by the casement, as sweet to the eye
As the trill of the robin is restful and quieting
Heard in a drowse with the dawn in the sky. 

And yet we yearn on to learn more of the mystery –
We see and we hear, but forever remain
Mute, blind and deaf to the ultimate history
Born of a rose or a patter of rain.

 

sherman

(General William Tecumseh Sherman)


Some thought that Sherman was insane
In early days of war.
Though at the end most didn’t, while
Atlanta thought it more. 

He mused, when he in triumph stood
Before a nation, glad,
“I stayed by Grant when he was drunk,
And he while I was mad.” 

They thought he’d make a president,
A leader, great, of men.
He said, “I’d rather choose instead
Locked four years in the pen.” 

Most likely, he was crazy then,
Just crazy like a fox,
To not let people lock him in
A presidential box.

—————————————-

© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

The merry World did on a day
With his train-bands and mates agree
To meet together, where I lay,
And all in sport to jeer at me. 

First, Beauty crept into a rose,
Which when I plucked not, “Sir,” said she,
“Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those?” –
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. 

Then Money came, and clinking still,
“What tune is this, poor man?” said he:
“I heard in Music you had skill.”
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
 

Then came brave Glory puffing by
In silks that whistled – who but he?
He scarce allowed me half an eye –
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. 

Then came quick Wit and Conversation,
And he would needs a comfort be,
And, to be short, make an oration –
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. 

Yet when the hour of Thy design
To answer these fine things shall come,
Speak not at large, say, I am Thine,
And then they have the answer home.

 

 

lamesa

Lamesa

La-may-suh –
Spanish. Now, Texan –
La-meese-uh.

——————–

gruene

Gruene

Groon? Groon-ee?
Just think of color
And say “Green”.

———————

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Fond Memory brings the light
Of other days around me:
……The smiles, the tears
……Of boyhood’s years,
The words of love then spoken;
……The eyes that shone,
……Now dimmed and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken!
Thus, in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Sad Memory brings the light
Of other days around me.

When I remember all
The friends, so linked together,
I’ve seen around me fall
Like leaves in wintry weather,
……I feel like one
……Who treads alone
Some banquet-hall deserted,
……Whose lights are fled,
……Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed!
Thus, in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me.
Sad Memory brings the light
,,,Of other days around me.