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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

mgtzdCW

Wrecked the car!
Drove into the pole!
Why?   Bee cause.

——————–

photo by Karunakar Rayker at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mgtzdCW/Honey+Bee

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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/

——————–

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

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nrnowLm

A single parent family’s a chore –
A lonely sole without an absent mate.
It is a rowboat with a single oar.

God saw that one was in great need of more,
That only one had too much on his plate.
A single parent family’s a chore.

The single parent strives to reach the shore.
The burden borne’s an overwhelming weight.
She/He’s a rowboat with a single oar.

When laden, there is none to ope the door;
For another’s help, the one can’t wait.
A single parent family’s a chore.

There’s none to comfort when the muscle’s sore
From single ‘gainst the doubled current’s rate.
She/He’s a rowboat with a single oar.

There is no second for esprit de corps;
Entirely in the hands of one’s their fate.
A single parent family’s a chore.
It is a rowboat with a single oar.

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*The spelling in line 2 is deliberate.

———————————————————————-

photo by Bern Altman at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nrnowLm/Weathered+Rowboat

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

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nvtcqwg

The first step
In losing one’s shirt –
Lose buttons.

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photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nvTcQWg/mixed+buttons4

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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/
——————–

© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West!
How many various-fated years have passed,
What happy and what mournful hours, since last
I skimm’d the smooth thin stone along thy breast,
Numbering its light leaps! yet so deep imprest
Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes
I never shut amid the sunny ray,
But straight with all their tints thy waters rise,
Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey,
And bedded sand that vein’d with various dyes
Gleam’d through thy bright transparence! On my way,
Visions of Childhood! oft have ye beguil’d
Lone manhood’s cares, yet waking fondest sights:
Ah! that once more I were a careless Child!

 

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The despot’s heel is on thy shore,
Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple door,
Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle-queen of yore,
Maryland, my Maryland!

Hark to an exiled son’s appeal,
Maryland!
My Mother State, to thee I kneel,
Maryland!
For life and death, for woe and weal,
The peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel,
Maryland, my Maryland!

Thou wilt not cower in the dust,
Maryland!
The beaming sword shall never rust,
Maryland!
Remember Carroll’s sacred trust,
Remember Howard’s warlike thrust,
And all thy slumberers with the just,
Maryland, my Maryland!

Come! ‘tis the red dawn of the day,
Maryland!
Come with thy panoplied array,
Maryland!
With Ringgold’s spirit for the fray,
With Watson’s blood at Monterey,
With fearless Lowe and dashing May,
Maryland, my Maryland!

Dear Mother, burst the tyrant’s chain,
Maryland!
Virginia should not call in vain,
Maryland!
She meets her sisters on the plain, –
Sic semper!” ‘tis the proud refrain
That baffles minions back amain,
Maryland!
Arise in majesty again,
,,,Maryland, my Maryland!

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong,
Maryland!
Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong,
Maryland!
Come to thine own heroic throng
Stalking with Liberty along,
And chant thy dauntless slogan-song,
Maryland, my Maryland!

I see the blush upon thy cheek,
Maryland!
For thou wast ever bravely meek,
Maryland!
But lo! there surges forth a shriek,
From hill to hill, from creek to creek,
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
Maryland, my Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll,
Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his control,
Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the shot, the blade, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Maryland, my Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder hum,
Maryland!
The Old Line’s bugle, fife, and drum,
Maryland!
She is not dead, not deaf, nor dumb;
Huzza! She spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes! She burns! She’ll come!
She’ll come!
Maryland, my Maryland!

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video of the song being sung (3:48) –
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJcHNCZNj24

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…….Thou Must Be True

Thou must be true thyself,
If thou the truth wouldst teach!
Thy soul must overflow, if thou
Another’s soul wouldst reach;
It needs the overflow of heart
To give the lips full speech. 

Think truly, and thy thoughts
Shall the world’s famine feed;
Speak truly, and each word of thine
Shall be a fruitful seed;
Live truly, and thy life shall be
A great and noble creed.

 

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No, No Guzman

The Frenchman
Said, “Funny goose, mon,
That mongoose.”

——————– 

 

 

Well, Powder it!

It hides well
On white paper, ‘cept
For pink nose.

 ——————–

 

 

Every Deed

All of life
Like dried leaf into
Book of life.

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Guzman – photo by Karnakar Rayker at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dkzT3q/Mongoose

 Powder – photo by Agnes Scholiers at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nB3xwfo/Little+spook

Deed – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mCU7WsA/pressed+plant

——————–

* 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 Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

 

 

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Windshield Wipers

Windshield Wipers (Photo credit: shannylynne)

Sonnet 19 – Fog Weeps

Fog weeps against my windshield as I drive;
It knows it is a wisp, a passing mist
That comes on suddenly but can’t survive
For long, past when the sun this earth has kissed.

We weigh its time against the length of day,
And find it transitory, short in span.
It is the sun that lasts, that rules, holds sway,
As fog morosely packs its caravan.

I weigh my years against the centuries,
And find I barely tip the cosmic scale.
I feel the sun, the heated, speeding breeze,
And sense the brevity of life, and wail.

I weep upon the windshield of the world;
I am a moment’s mist against it hurled.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.

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Students wick

Image via Wikipedia


Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin Eater

Students cheat
All the way through school –
Now doctors.

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Drive, thinking:
This bridge was built by
A cheater.

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Tweedle de;
Tweedle dumb and Twee-
dle Dumber.

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Why this mess?
Students see no wrong –
Morals gone.

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Iceberg tip
Society same –
God is gone.

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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/

——————————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.

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The Earth seen from Apollo 17.

Image via Wikipedia

 

 

The Earth

One of nine;
Living blue planet –
Home, sweet home.

* Or, one of eight or one of seven.

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Speeding Along

Jet contrails,
Silver flash in front –
Earth’s comet.

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Sunrise

Ev’ry day
Same silly sun game –
Peek-a-boo.

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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/

————————

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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