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Archive for the ‘My Poems’ Category

mlCuLUm

The donut’s a puzzle to me;
The hole has not one calorie.
I should then be able to eat
A hundred or more of that treat.

A hundred times zero is NONE!
It should be that eating’s just fun,
A feast that is purely for taste.
But still they all go to my waist.

It could be the problem’s my rule –
Examine with care my sweet jewel:
I don’t think I’ve eaten the hole
Until I have eaten the whole.

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photo by Michael Lorenzo at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mlCuLUm/doughnut

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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mA6Smt6

The minor leaguers play for wealth and fame
Or just for pleasure on their daily plate,
Or anything to carry on their name
In hamlets small, or cities that are great.

Ambition is the wind that fills their sail
And drives them toward the only port they see,
Which may not measure much upon a scale –
But forward without knowing, blissfully!

Though some succeed and gain the greater stage
Most toil on in obscurity to fail,
A rueful fact they recognize in age,
And in depression, raise a bitter wail.

But majors hit a fastball none can see
And rarely swing at curves the foe may throw.
The list of contrasts go on endlessly –
So, too, those on the high road, not the low.

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photo by Robert Linder at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mA6Smt6/Dominican+Baseball

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

When senators are sin-ators,
Vice presidents are vice,
When governors are minotaurs,
And trusted leaders lice,

Consider well spoiled milk you drink –
It’s rotten at the top.
You take a sip; you smell the stink,
And then your drinking stop.

But at the bottom of the well,
Where you disdained to go
The stink and spoil there also dwell,
E’en in the common Joe.

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photo by Michal Zacharzewski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/noSU8yC/Rotten+apples

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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29041390861_cf9840b544_o

That glorious day when the clouds start to drain
O’er desperate land that is begging for rain
Brings a thrill for parched hearts when it comes,
when it comes,
When it falls on the leaves, and the roofs, and it drums.

A crash of cloud cymbals, a bright flash of light;
The dark of the storm turns the day into night;
And the song of the rain as it falls,
and it falls
Fills the crestfallen hearts as it thrills and enthralls.

The roads become rivers that gurgle along
And join with the rain in the singing the song.
And the sweet melody that they play
and they play
Is the number one tune by request for the day.

The torrents that fall and the torrents that flow
Bring smiles to the faces now starting to glow;
And the chant they repeat: “Let it rain!
Let it rain!”
Are the words to the song, its imploring refrain.

Drought-breakers are systems that linger for days,
A guest that is welcome till it overstays
But the call for the clouds, “Time to go.
Time to go”,
Is a call that comes never, or ever so slow.

But Noah and his flood will ne’er come again,
And storms of our era move on with their rain.
In the blue that is left, the sun shines
and it shines;
Shines like smiles on the faces, the glow in men’s minds.

Behind is the earth, and it’s lavish and lush
The rivers are swollen; lakes ravished and flush.
And the song has turned green – the land hums
And it hums.
It’s a song of elation for death – drought succumbs.

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The photo is mine – rain in the valley below my hill.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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Fort Fisher

Boom, boom!  Boom, boom! The Union navy fires!
Boom, boom!  Boom, boom! – the Civil War’s bass choirs.
Boom, boom! Fort Fisher’s what the cannon’s see
As North tests its invincibility.

Boom, boom!  Boom, boom! Shells whistle, fall, and crash!
Boom, boom!  Boom, boom! They fall like fists and smash!
Boom, boom! Boom, boom!  And one by one the guns
Within the fort become exploding suns.

Boom, boom!  Boom, boom! The navy’s cannons roar!
Boom, boom!  Boom, boom! Can ears take any more?!
Boom, boom!  Midst shells, the fort can see (boom, boom!)
The blue ranks forming in the smoke and gloom.

Then silence yawns –
…………………………………..a bird, if live, could sing,
Be clearly heard if ears did not still ring.
A caterpillar, in his softest crawl
Would sound like chalk that screeches on the wall.

Did some slip to the ugly booming brutes
And quickly push on all the buttons – Mute?
Or did the noisy nightmare swiftly end
And all awake at once, calm comprehend?

And then –
…………………shrieks, moans, and whistles – boats begin!
Shriek, shriek! Whistle, whistle! A hellish din!
And all the demons in the devil’s hell
Were screaming, shrieking, moaning – whistles tell

Two armies of the blue to charge the fort
That guarded well the Carolina port.
A rata, a rata, a rat tat tat!
Crescendo swells! A rata tat tat!

Shriek, shriek! Whistle, whistle! They blow and moan!
Guns roar! Men yell! They fall dead with a groan.
The cannons more selective now – boom, boom!
And midst the sounds, Fort Fisher meets its doom.

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http://www.civilwar.org/battlefields/fortfisher/history-articles/fort-fisher.html

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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nVrkilW

Repeat a lie, repeat a lie,
Like ocean waves that batter,
And people will believe the lie
And nothing else will matter.

Expose the lie and spread the truth,
The damage thus repairing.
And people will receive the truth,
Return to rightful bearing.

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photo by rkirbycom (Roger) at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nVrkilW/Ocean+Waves

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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nofeuL4

The ice cream is before me in the bowl
And suddenly my spoon is far too small.
I need a shovel so to eat it whole
(My Tongue’s the one who makes this urgent call).

Surrendering to it with eager Eyes,
I take a bite and quickly make it two,
And then a third, exulting in the prize
That’s sweet and melts, so I don’t have to chew.

Almost as quick as pleasure is the pain
As though my forehead rammed into a wall,
As though the ice cream climbed into my Brain
Not like the normal foods that take a fall.

The Brain says, “Stop!” The Tongue says to the Hand,
“I want some more.  Now shovel even faster!”
And Hand says, caught between the two commands,
“Who do I listen to?  Who is the master?”

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photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nofeuL4/chocolate+icecream+indulgence2

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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quantrill

When William Quantrill, in the Civil War,
Led his gray troops, like swarming ants, in raid
On Lawrence, citizens died by the score –
Unarmed.  A battle, or just vengeance paid?

John Morgan, likewise, was a Southern pride;
But to the North, his acts were piracy.
His men would conquer, taking all they spied –
An army’s pillaging?  Or robbery?

The line between an army waging war
And scoundrels, murderers, and common thieves;
Between a wicked gang and army corps
Is thinner than a person oft believes.

To see this truth is but to know the names:
With Quantrill rode both Frank and Jesse James.

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The picture is of William Quantrill.

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantrill%27s_Raiders

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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nZ1d434

A man and a woman are separated on a darkened stage, then get closer together and finally meet.  Positions ( )

(1)           (2)           (3)(3)             (2)             (1)

The light shines on the one singing and on neither during the chorus, except in the last position.  There, the light shines on the man and does not go off as the light then shines also on the woman, and on both during the chorus.

(1) M: I sit and sing a lonesome song,
My life is hard and cold.
I sometimes think I’ll never have
A special girl to hold.

(1) F: There’s nights when I can’t fall asleep,
One pillow on my bed,
The only shoulder for my grief
And bitter tears I shed.

Chorus:
M: But one day
F: Someday
M: Says my mind
F: Perhaps I’ll find
M: And then I’ll know,
F: I’ll surely know.
M: And holding hands
F: Through life we’ll go.
M: I’ll love her so.
F: I’ll love him so.

(2) M: I’d give a rib to have a mate;
I’d even give an arm.
This lonely life I’m leading now
Brings my heart far more harm.

(2) F: I know that I have love to give,
But none to give it to.
I ache to find a man for me
With whom to go life through.

Chorus:
M: But one day
F: Someday
M: Says my mind
F: Perhaps I’ll find
M: And then I’ll know,
F: I’ll surely know.
M: And holding hands
F: Through life we’ll go.
M: I’ll love her so.
F: I’ll love him so.

(3) M: I sometimes think she is so near,
That she can hear my cry,
And I could see her lovely face
If I would harder try.

(3) F: The curtain has been lifted;
My sorrow veil is gone.
The warmth and brightness flooding
Is a new loving dawn.

Chorus:
M: And one day
F: This day
M: Says my mind
F: I now have found
M: And I now know
F: I surely know.
M: And holding hands
F: Through life we’ll go.
M: I’ll love you so.
F: I’ll love you so.

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photo by Eve Blackwood at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nZ1d434/frame+with+hearts

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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n31ZSzw

In your life,
Is there anyone
At the helm?

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photo by Karen Andrews at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/n31ZSzw/ships+wheel

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* 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/
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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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