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Archive for the ‘My Poems’ Category

mlk

I see them – MLK – and think of milk.
Smooth chocolate, that is, and tongue that’s silk.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2020.

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I think that I’ve now lost a dear friend
Who’s now past the point where he can mend.
They took him away
All feeble and gray
For young folks to care for till the end.

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photo by Michal Zacharzewski at https://www.rgbstock.com/photo/n3hzesC/Old+man

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2020.

 

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37980348331_239086cb77_o

It’s not the boundless sea
That matters much to me,
But waves upon this strand
Here as I toe the sand.

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The photo is mine, of Sand Beach in
Acadia National Park in Maine.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2020.

 

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oNw2YIk

The winter months were long and gray,
And cold was ev’ry night.
The Sun was not allowed its say;
The snow reached record height.

The Sun without both night and day,
A king cast off his throne,
Said, “I’ve got nowhere, so I’ll stay
Behind the clouds, alone.”

“But one more morn I’ll try to shine
Upon the frozen land,
The place that rightfully is mine
When clouds don’t stay my hand.”

And on that fateful winter morn,
The Sun rose, but in vain –
The clouds blocked all his rays; forlorn,
He spent more days in pain.

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photo by Jay Simmons at
https://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oNw2YIk/Dead+tree+%221%22

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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snow 2
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Glum Winter’s clouds are seamless, smooth,
No hint of smile, no twinkles.
The cold winds in the sky above
Have ironed out all the wrinkles.

They never have a cheery gleam
From sunshine on their faces.
Instead, cold Winter says to march
And puts them through their paces.

They seem to be an enemy,
Cold, brusque, and so unfeeling,
That hover where the blue once was
As an unwelcome ceiling.

Yet they are much more friendly than
A man who once was neighbor
To whom all others were a pain
And happiness a labor.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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engine light

My engine light is on; I groan.
What could the matter be?
Will I be like the mariner,
Left stranded in the sea?

Will noises from my car be next –
A rattle and a knock?
Is there a crack developing
In my car’s engine block?

The engine light stares/glares at me
As I drive down the road.
Is trouble ticking like a bomb
To in my face explode?

Whew! Safely home, the light still on,
Mechanic I will see
To diagnose my awful plight
And its severity.

I’m fin’lly told, when I have been
By worry driven mad,
The engine light was telling me
The engine light was bad.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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antifa


The Brown Shirts, the Klu Klux – both losers,
And so is Antifa, the bruisers.
They’re wearing a hood;
They’re up to no good.
The Left is for those thugs excusers.

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photo by Carptrash – I, Einar Kvaran, took the picturePreviously published: none, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=80084419

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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oosvh1O

Since life is but a mist that burns away,
A blossom that delights a day, then goes.
And since the barn’s ablaze and we are hay,
The condor e’er awaits because it knows.

We’re helpless ‘fore the ever watching eyes;
Each is exposed as in the noonday sun
One’s shadow clings no matter how he tries –
Appointment in Samarra – none can run.

Death perches near to pluck our bodies bare,
Bereft of life as idols are of gods.
The sword of Damocles hangs by a hair;
Grim Reaper, with his scythe, fore’er marauds.

Death’s always hanging over each of us;
Its touch before is slight, then ponderous.

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photo by Elvis Santana at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oosvh1O/california+condor+2

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

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nWWdhGs

I remember, I remember
The seat we shared and when,
And watched the world go racing by
And racing by again.
It mattered not how fast it ran,
How rough turned out the ride
On rocket ship or Rattler,
When we were side by side.

I remember, I remember
When you came to my door.
And searched me out till I was found,
Like treasure one hunts for.
I love you for the worth you gave
To my life in that quest,
That out of all the others there,
That you loved me the best.

I remember, I remember
The moment that I knew,
When we met within the halls,
I was in love with you.
Without a thought of where we were,
I started to reach out
And wrap you up inside my arms,
But others were about.

I remember, I remember
A very special place,
Where I so gently raised your chin;
And then a warm embrace.
There, I was lost as man can be
Within your whirlpool eyes,
And magic of your gentle touch,
The wonder of your sighs.

I remember, I remember
The secrets that we shared,
A knowing wink across the room
That showed each of us cared.
And when someone came in our space,
And broke the fragile bond,
We sighed for our own loneliness
And wished that he were gone.

I remember, I remember
The stories that you told
Of your life, trusting it to me
To have, and safely hold.
And in those tales, I heard of one
Who sought an inner peace,
And found some ways that did not work
And vowed that they would cease.

I remember, I remember
The things that did not last,
That aren’t now flesh, but fingerprints
That mark what is the past.
Those are the things that are no more;
And mourn for them I must.
The only thing that keeps me sane,
And this alone I trust –

That I’ll remember; I’ll remember.

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photo by Dez Pain at https://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nWWdhGs/Valentine+Cats+4

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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Kim Jong un

Kim rules as an evil harsh master
Which will, in the end, bring disaster.
His yes men must say,
“We’ll beat USA.”
And lies will flow bigger and faster.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

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