My Kinda Poetry 2

by Marvin Perkins

her sleeve.

  She said, "if you'll spend one night

  in my bed I will remove the terrible

  spell."

  I said, "I'd just as soon die, and

  Go straight to hell."

  But after several days as a toad

  her offer started to sound pretty

  good.

  Still I wrestled with the decision

  was it right or wrong or did I think

  I should.

  I said what the heck it wouldn't be

  all that bad, one night with the ugly

  whore.

  So I agreed to spend the night , but

  just one night with her and not a minute more.

  I woke up the next morning after an

  exhausting night, hoping that my actions had broken the spell.

  But I found out that she was not only

  an ugly crow, but she was a liar as well.

  This witch was lying on the bed in

  the buff smoking a cigarette with a

  big smile on her face.

  And I was still a green horny

  toad jumping all over the place.

  The Band

  The band played a rousing tune,

  It marched and danced in the month

  Of June.

  Hey, hey, the band did play, on a hot

  Summer's day.

  The horns and the drums were syncopated, the cymbals clashed

  While the dancers gyrated,

  And hey, hey, the band did play,

  On that hot summer day.

  The music they played was delightful, it was very loud and frightful,

  And hey, hey, the band played on a

  Hot summer's day.

  Everything was going well, then the

  Whole thing went to hell,

  The horns zigged when they should

  Have zagged, the drummers turned left instead of right, the whole thing was an awful sight.

  And hey, hey there was no more sound, cause the band was lying on

  The ground,

  On that hot summer's day in June.

  The Storm

  A dreamless sleep overtook me, it

  Was a welcome relief after a long hard day.

  The wind howled outside my window

  Like a freight train's whistle blowing

  In the night.

  The lightning cracked, the thunder roared, a torrent of rain poured, but

  I slept undisturbed.

  I awoke in the morning refreshed from my night's sleep, thinking and

  Seeing clearly.

  I guess it takes going through a storm sometimes to really see the light.

  The Attic

  In my attic filled with cobwebs, old boxes and memories, I found myself enthralled by a particular brightly colored carton.

  It stood out from the others, even though it was covered in dust, and I bent to open it curious as to what was hidden within.

  Suddenly from the corner of the room came a voice, a deep man's voice that I hadn't heard in years but I recognized it immediately.

  It said, "son, is that you, it's dad."

  I stammered and shook and tripped on another box and tumbled to the floor not knowing what to say.

  "Son, are you okay?" Dad said.

  I got up slowly, apprehensively, "Dad?"

  "Yes son, how have you been these last ten years. Just stopped by to see how you were and to tell you I left something for you in that brightly colored box. I know you think I forgot about you, but I didn't. The box is for you."

  I started to ask him a hundred questions and to tell him so many things I wanted to tell him before he passed, but before I could he was gone.

  "Dad, dad?"

  With great excitement I slowly opened the box to see what he had left me,

  In the box were many old black and white photos I hadn't seen in years and at the bottom wrapped in a bow was the deed to his house, paid for free and clear.

  A great surprise for me on the tenth anniversary of his death.

  No one believed I had talked to him, but I knew I did and that was all that mattered.

  Over the Top

  Desperate hours laid before them, matching the desperate and bleak hours that had passed.

  "Gas," someone down the line yelled as they all scrambled to grab their masks and secure them snugly.

  It was a false alarm that time, but gas would come, they just didn't know when or where.

  Hell was where they were, a hell with no escape, prayers were prayed, some were answered, some were not.

  The trench they were in must have been ten feet deep, filled with the living, dead and the dying.

  The smoke and stench hung heavy in the air, the German machine gun nests deafened them and kept them sequestered in their holes.

  Many a man was cut to ribbons and many more would face the same fate when the order was given to "go over the top." But they would go, and they would die, for God, King, and country.

  Life Flows

  A tiny blade of grass, an enormous elephant, live and thrive as do we.

  The air, the rain, the sunshine, the atmosphere, is shared by all.

  The earth revolves, the sun rises and sets, as life goes on day by day.

  We must respect all living things for we are interwoven into one.

  In the wind, the sky, the oceans and mountains, we are them and they are us.

  The spirit and life force breathes as a single entity co-existing together.

  The balance is fragile and easily fractured by any disruption.

  The ebb and flow of the universe is like a river that flows to the sea of life.

  The life given to us by the Creator and should be treasured.

  Sleep

  Sleep, peaceful sleep, please

  come and take me far away.

  From this world of hardship

  that haunts me night and day.

  Carry me away to a far off

  land in your loving arms.

  Shelter me from the storm and keep me safe from harm.

  Envelop me in a blanket of sweet,

  warm and peaceful dreams.

  Rock me gently like a newborn

  baby in a rolling stream.

  When I wake my troubles will

  be no more.

  And I will be the man I always

  was before .

  Man is a Spectator

  Cascading waterfalls over

  cliffs jagged, foaming white.

  A moon, huge and yellow

  lights up a starlit night.

  Clouds dark and ominous

  threaten the tranquility .

  Oceans, rolling, churning

  lap the shoreline freely.

  A picture, landscape, a beautiful water colored self- portrait.

  Sky and mountain, the sea and

  the sand clearly demonstrate.

  Life flourishes, in man's absence

  for he is not a necessary part.

  He is just a spectator in the

  beauty nature has to impart.

  The Book

  A book sits silent on a table,

  Mute for its content is hidden.

  The solitude fills the room as

  It remains an unleashed mystery.

  Dust covers its cover as time

  Disappears and fades into memory.

  No words can escape the prison

  The bars bind what lives within.

  The knowledge is forever locked

  Away but for one simple act to

  Unleash its power and glory on

  A world in need of inspiration.

  All that is required is the opening

  And a revelation will manifest

  Itself with marvelous wings that

  Will spirit away with new found

  Freedom...

 
; And our lives will be forever enriched

  If only we will take the key, unlock

  The bars and bask in its radiant

  Knowledge, just open and receive

  Its power.

  Money

  Money can't buy love, it

  can't buy happiness, but

  it sure makes it a lot easier

  to live without those things.

  Utopia

  When I think of a utopia, I think

  of quiet and happiness.

  Heavenly flowers of dewdrops

  drenched in rosy bliss.

  A fluffy cloud floating in a

  clear blue sky,

  sunbeams bouncing off a

  twinkle in your eye.

  Licorice lollipops licked by a

  white dove,

  chocolate covered raisins rained

  down from above.

  A sweetness as sweet as a

  sugar coated dream,

  dipped in an ocean full of

  chocolate ice cream.

  That's utopia to me.

  Heaven Can Wait

  Heaven can wait for the

  innocent souls of the children.

  Protect them like the precious

  creations that they are.

  Allow them to grow and flourish

  like budding flowers and discover

  all the beauty and wonder this

  world has to offer.

  Keep them from harm at any cost

  for they are indeed the future.

  Teach them and guide them so

  they in turn can teach and guide.

  Lead them down the right pathway

  and they will follow and become

  leaders themselves someday.

  Pride

  Take pride in yourself

  If you don't no one else

  Will have respect for you.

  On the inside and out

  Love yourself for as

  They say it is the greatest.

  Your body is God's property

  Be a good tenant at all times

  Keep it always in good repair.

  Be the best you, you can be

  For you only have one self.

  Take care of it with all your

  Heart and soul and you will

  Reap great rewards in your

  Life and in the hereafter.

  Family

  A family is warm like a comforting

  fire place welcoming you to sit and

  relax in the bosom of love and bask

  in the sunshine of safety and freedom of emotion.

  A family wraps you in its arms and

  tells you no harm can come to you

  while you are nestled in their strong

  and caring embrace.

  A family is the backbone of who

  you are , where you come from

  and where you are going in life.

  A family is you, a family is me,

  together against this big ole crazy

  world in which we live.

  Enough

  Have I paid my dues, run the race,

  Did all I could do to make things right.

  Loved and lost, suffered the cost,

  Gave my heart and soul to the cause.

  Sacrificed everything, stayed the course, lived life's game,

  Did I do enough?

  Did I leave no stone unturned, bridges burned, could I have done more?

  Did I work hard or let down my guard, was I too lazy, did I do my best?

  Did I fight the good fight, take wings

  To flight, played the hand I was

  Dealt to the best of my ability?

  And when my life is through, and I've

  Did all I can do, will I still wonder,

  Was it enough?

  The Artist

  The morning sunrise is like an artist's

  canvass awaiting his strokes.

  The beautiful colors, forms and

  shapes take shape in the brilliance.

  A magnificent hue of blue, dotted

  with an interspersing of white and

  gray as the artist begins our day.

  Grass as green as turquoise gems

  create a backdrop for the scene,

  Beautiful creatures and plants of

  every kind, all creations of the Divine

  Fill the artist's canvass as another

  day breaks, and He sees it is good.

  The Poem

  Searching through the rubble

  of my life, ravaged and torn

  apart by an horrific storm.

  I stumbled accidentally on

  a worn out page from a book

  with faded words of a poem.

  The old tattered page had been

  blown asunder by the howling

  winds and drenched by rain,

  but somehow had been placed

  miraculously in plain view for

  me to read in my time of pain.

  It read, "Worldly possessions are

  of no importance they can be easily

  replaced, do not mourn for them.

  For in all things life is worth more

  than any jewel, diamond or gem.

  So celebrate and be merry for

  what God has given to you,

  look to your future with renewed

  hope and do what you must do."

  As the sun slipped behind the

  horizon, I thanked God for my life,

  and the lives of my children and wife.

  I somehow found the courage to smile, even after all I had been through and realized I was indeed

  a blessed man

  . I found an old letter

  in the attic, it was

  tattered and worn,

  the ink was pale and faded.

  It peaked my interest

  and curiosity for some

  reason so I took a closer

  look.

  The writing was scrawled,

  almost illegible but it

  immediately took me back.

  Tears began to well up

  in my eyes but I didn't'

  know why.

  Then I realized what it

  was and what that letter

  had meant to me.

  It was a letter from my

  father, the last

  he wrote me before he died.

  And how I cried tears of joy when I

  read how proud he was of

  me and apologized for not

  being able to attend my

  graduation from college.

  I never saw him again alive,

  for he died that very same

  week. How could I misplace

  such as prize in the attic

  among the boxes.

  Sometimes life just passes

  us by and we forget the

  important things like a simple letter.

  Ordinary

  I'd rather be peculiar than ordinary,

  Obsessed and depressed, under

  Duress, hyper-active and crazy,

  Anything but ordinary.

  Following the crowd, talking loud,

  No mind of my own, mindset of the

  Masses, just plain ordinary.

  I'd rather be neurotic, somewhat

  Psychotic, on the verge of a breakdown, anything but ordinary.

  Singing the same ole songs, just

  Going along, blinders on the eyes,

  No big surprise, just ordinary.

  I prefer to be an individual, not dull

  And invisible, a lion not cattle, ready

  To fight any battle, a leader.

  I can be anything I want to be and

  I choose not to be...

  Ordinary..


  . I am Thankful

  I am thankful for each new day

  That breaks, every breath I take,

  For the sunshine and the rain,

  The pleasure and pain, the bountiful

  Blessings I enjoy.

  I am thankful for the flowers in

  Spring, the birds that joyously

  Sing, for the sun and the moon,

  The long hot summer days of June,

  And the joy I feel inside.

  But most of all I am thankful for

  The morning sunrise that let's me

  Know I'm alive, the morning breeze

  On my face and for God's saving

  Grace,

  I am thankful...

  Tears

  For every tear that is cried,

  A price has been paid.

  A heart has been broken, a

  Love one has been taken, a pain

  Has been suffered, a sadness felt.

  For every tear that is cried,

  Joy and happiness has overwhelmed.

  Guilt, shame, a traumatic event,

  Absence, or a fond memory

  Have brought us to the brink.

  For every tear that is cried,

  Lies, dirt in the eyes, a toxic odor,

  Wherein is the cause,

  Of the moisture on our cheeks,

  The running of the nose.

  For every tear that is cried

  We shed salty manifestations

  Of our heart and soul,

  Expression of emotions,

  Sometimes out of control.

  But when's it's all over,

  We feel,

  Miraculously,

  Better...