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David Barr Dec 2013
The equilibrium of the ecosystem is challenged by the rites of the 11th Century Norsemen. Smell the pine in the forests of North America where the dream catcher swings in the branches of the misty Boreal forest.
We must never forget in our futile plight for supremacy, that the roots of trees are deeply connected to the annals of history where contemporary grandiosity is a mere mirage of what we call sophistication.
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor is where Johann Sebastian Bach communicated his message as clear as the cries of those who were slaughtered in the Highland Clearances. Parallel octaves of our Viking ancestry are firmly established and will never be altered despite the quests of the New World Order.
Bob B Sep 2018
Seventeen years ago
America was shaken to the core.
Since not too long after that
We've been involved in a non-stop war.

Homeland security
Became an issue that since then
Hoped to assure Americans
That such attacks won't happen again.

During the past seventeen years
Many measures have been taken
To make us safe; however, it's time
For sleeping minds to reawaken.

Lacking foresight, our president
Has gone after the people who
Have worked to make us safe. The man
Doesn't seem to have a clue.

Discrediting investigators,
Removing them from key positions,
And pulling security clearances
Because of paranoid suspicions

Will only make us vulnerable
To future terrorist attacks.
Watch how his Republican friends
In Congress support him. Political hacks!

The president also hates
When investigators eye
American involvement with
The Russian mafia. We know why.

It's hard to watch as the president--
With almost each careless endeavor--
Stupidly goes out of his way
To make us more unsafe than ever.

-by Bob B (9-11-18)
Bob B  Aug 2018
Despotic Measures
Bob B Aug 2018
Watch out, or you will find that you're
On President Trump's Enemies List,
For democratic values and Donald
Trump cannot coexist.

Former CIA Director
John Brennan, now has learned
That when it comes to silencing critics,
Trump will leave no stone unturned.

After hearing Brennan's critical
Words, the angry Trump was stewing.
Bam! He revoked Brennan's security
Clearance despite no wrongdoing.

The crazed, vindictive leader called
John Brennan's behavior "erratic."
Muzzling the freedom of speech, Trump's
Becoming more autocratic.

The office of the presidency
Has never, ever been sullied so.
This vicious attack on our First Amendment
Rights is a terrible blow.

Trump accused Brennan of making
"Baseless charges." Real translation:
Brennan didn't hail Trump
With sycophantic adoration.

On Trump's list are others who
Might lose clearances as well.
Here his lack of integrity
And pettiness have no parallel.

Another motive for Trump's action
Is more diabolical yet:
He wants to strip the power away
From all people who might be a threat

Because of their connection to
The Russia probe. That makes sense.
As more dots are being connected,
The situation is growing tense.

While servile Republicans in Congress
Defend their despotic president,
Let Brennan's powerful words
Resound: "I will not relent."

-by Bob B (8-16-18)
Robert C Howard Jul 2013
(Plaster cast at Pompeii)                    

                [THE TOUR GUIDE]

                “Ladies and gentlemen, here we are at Pompeii's
                fabled Thermal Baths where heated water was
                passed through duct work in the walls.  One can          
                imagine Nero himself stopping here on one of            
                his visits.”


[BONITO]

Bonito stepped out of the bathhouse and looked up.
Vesuvius rumbled - shaking ash and fire skyward.
Breaking into a run he sought the south road,
glancing back anxiously at the
vast dark cloud billowing down the mountain.

                "The principal city roads were recessed
                and wagons were required to have standardized
                wheelbases and clearances to fit in channels cut
                into the stone.  Follow me please to the residential
                area.”


He gained the road and his feet
pounded the stones of the “via stabiana.”
The cloud multiplied and fell on the city.
Ever deepening layers of ash clogged Benito’s path.
Heart pounding in his chest he lengthened his strides.

                “Leaving the opulent villas with their spacious
                atria, we now enter the market area where we
                shall see a display of remarkable interest.  During
                excavations, empty spaces were discovered in
                the ash deposits.”


The rising ash captured his left leg.
Bonito inhaled the fiery air and ******
forward into a burst of falling soot
but was unable to finish his stride.

                “Archaeologists poured plaster into the voids
                revealing the outlined bodies of Pompeiins
                trapped in their final moments.  Take, for example,
                this man caught in mid-step with no time
                to escape the life choking dust.”


*June, 2006
Lydia Nov 2017
I wish my lotion had glitter in it
I also wish my head didn't hurt
I had a nightmare that I was back in the hospital the day my insurance company denied my medication
I can't afford it,
So I can't sleep now
But yesterday I dreamed I was back in the hospital like when I was a kid
I was only there a couple of times, for testing and for times I forgot my medication
There was a bit of a learning curve for a seven year old
But I'm moving out next year
I've already learned
I take my vitamins, I go to my doctor visits
I finally got my sports clearances,
But I can't drive a car without my medication
I can't work somedays either
So as I lay here, by myself, I can't help but remember the nurse who gave me a friendship bracelet in the emergency room on Christmas
The saline in my arm was cold, and they stopped giving me blankets because I had a fever
I was twelve years old and it was snowing in Atlanta for the first time in years
I couldn't tell from my windowless room
The nurse put lotion on my hands with glitter in it
I had a fever because I was dehydrated
I was dehydrated because I forgot my medication at home in Pennsylvania.
I do want to state that I am fine. I have a chronic medical condition. I've had it for my entire life, I was diagnosed as a kid. Most children grow out of it by age 12, I was that rare exception to the word "most" and so I still struggle with the same condition even as I go into college. I will have it for my entire life. It was only recently proven to be a real disorder and is now finally being properly studied, but my insurance hasn't caught up and listed the medication as necessary for my condition. I am currently in round two of appeal.
David Barr Dec 2013
Aren’t you amazed at the propagations of politics? But let us not become enraptured by the plausibility of oratory wonders. That which is palatable, yet unexpected, is revealed in spectacular semantics. The winds may blow the surface of grass from side-to-side, as we perch on the threshold of a new dawn, while rhetorical laughter echoes her hysterical shrieks in familial connectedness. We are truly on the brink of advancement – don’t you think? Scottish mist hangs her powerful head over the glens of Rannoch moor, in a manner which is ghostly atmospheric. The clearances of old will never be forgotten in the valley of Glencoe.
a wand of disappearances
operate in our very
midst
who is the conductor
of its vanishing
gist?

where once our fellow
poets did pleasantly
reside
now the wicked wand
has eradicated their
bide

numerous blank spaces
symbolize the conductor's
vice
employing a wand which
has emptied the
rice

black the hour
black the day
a black instrument
whisking them all too
suddenly away
a wand so dark
of intent
wanting to wane
our writers tent

the subtracting conductor
will be planning future
disappearances
so be mindful of its
wand's unsolicited
clearances
Up until three days ago, poet Rye Sing was actively contributing and commenting on the Hello Poetry site.  I find it most strange that he/she has just disappeared into thin air.
David Barr Jun 2015
It is necessary that we mourn the loss of courageous and liberal oratory genius, which has articulated wisdom across socio-economical strata within the echelons of aristocratic deception.
Our reason is characterised by far-reaching shores which lie beyond the predictability of Northern terrains within the clearances of a steadfast spirit.
Therefore, listen to the conference of autumnal foliage, as they cast their biopsychosocial formalities, which crackle upon the European political pathways upon which we traverse.
I love your red roots, which unravel a bouquet of scandalous refreshment where percentile volume is consumed within the glass of a bared soul.
Resolution is likened to a scientifically twelve-stringed classical portrayal of integrity.
Let us not forget the appetites of those predators, who feast upon defamation of character.
A coalition is an alliance of various parties who converge into an eclectic conglomerate, where the credibility of your being rests in the jaws of a seductive vampire.
So, as we travel across this conveyor belt of dismissed proclamation, we must acknowledge and embrace our unleashed restraint.
Mark Motherland Dec 2018
PRELUDE - THE SEE THROUGH HOUSE

a child sings from an open window
a sweet song serenades an angry sky
escorting the sun home soft and mellow
so many years have now drifted by
visiting my old home here on Vatersay
Western Isles have their own genetic blends
I made the wee trip over from Castlebay
all that was left to see - two gable ends!
As my eye resists a lonely tear
I walk alone for a while on the sand
memories hark back to yesteryear
my Parents couldn't tame an untamed land
unrelenting hardships too much to take
the summer rain and then the winter snow
remnants of a failed dream in my wake
endless crashing tides screamed we had to go
but now I've lost myself in time's assuage
smoke billows forth from a happy fire
forgetting the gales and their howling rage
just the birds and lambs of nature's choir
but then the Cuckoo sang a confused song
Oyster Catchers didn't know which way to fly
no more childrens laughter all day long
Father leans on his staff and starts to cry
I visit my childhood home this one last time
bookending my days, a kind of crescendo
a strange thing I know but surely not a crime
for an Old Lady to sing from an open window.


PART - THE FIRST

New Scotland, old Scotland it was all the same
the clearances were a distant memory
and the two thousand mile journey that took weeks.
They settled on Nova Scotia's East coast
time and circumstances made them one flesh
as they embarked on love's difficult journey
they were blessed with a sweet child, Ishbael
they both loved her tho no longer each other

at night Ishbael would sing out the open window
she would sing to the moon, she would sing to the stars
she imagined that she was a ballet dancer
and dreamed of being such when she grew up

Mother eeked out a living from the tired land
Father spent most of his time on the fractious sea
She stood motionless at the front door each night
He checked the lobster creels under a salty spray

the spode China would be laid out on the table
strategically placed on the driftwood surface
cups stained brown with tea, coffee and nicotine
and on the outside with smudges of lipstick
it was the most treasured family heirloom
it was somehow smuggled across in the boat
it was passed on to them as a wedding gift
it was the only item of value they ever had

night after night Mother watches the sea
in the distant field, Sheep murmur like Bees
the bog cotton waves like a myriad hankies
as sunlight dissolves under cumulous cloud,
his bent over figure would surely soon appear
whistling a sea shanty walking up the track
but like a novel, his script came to an end
the storm weathered body was never found

outside on the lonely pebbled shore a Curlew sang
the net curtains rose and fell to it's bleak strains
wind rattled the windows like the beating of fence posts
they drank hot milk from Spode china for the final time
their family had creaked under the stresses and strains
that night a tall poplar tree crashed through the roof
storms wrecked their home like they wrecked their marriage
a perfect marriage of howling wind and frigid air

a lifetime of memories carried toward the sea
yet that old enemy was soon to be their friend
like a crush that would simply not go away.
Veiled by wrinkles Mother responds to the calling.
Larks cavort up and down in their unyielding plot
while they are bound for a far and distant land
the land was in their blood the blood was in their kin
the Isle of Vatersay, they were going home.


PART - THE SECOND

Old Scotland, new Scotland it was all the same
but she could not ignore the similarities
she looked across the ocean, it was all the same
two thousand miles of Atlantic anger
wind driven waves like a Tiger on a lead
but the tide died, the sea had peace like a child's hair
this reminded her of her kind Step Father
he would lean on his staff and cry when things went wrong

a storm took this house too, only they were not in it!
They settled across the water in Castlebay.
Time was unveiled as she relived her childhood,
withered fence posts and rusty wire that kept the joy in
brushing aside the nettles the hearth warmed her heart
window fames were as firm as ber Father's hand shake
she carefully scraped away the moss of time,
darkening seas awakened to her silvery voice.

She scurried along the beach with a youthful gait
reminiscent of her ballet dancing days
then the tide of her heart rose like a mountain within
down in the marram grass, she stared in sheer disbelief
her body all a quiver she picked up the fragments
with cupped hands tears were mingled with Spode china
she raised her eyes heavenward and screamed...
"nach eil sin italicired"
which when translated means 'how wonderful is that!'

tears rolled uncontrolably down her face
she stood still shaking the fragments in her hands
it made a lovely tinkling sound like cow bells,
two thousand miles of Atlantic anger
had softened the edges and smoothed over her memories.
She looked fervently at the long deserted croft
the wind erased her footprints in the sands of time
and then the sun went down.


EPILOGUE - THE END

when your poems fail to rhyme
when your watch runs out of time
when you feel your fate was sealed
we were on the same level playing field

when clouds slowly start to fill your sky
when the ocean gives it's final cry
life's pathways they did wind and wend
we were all equal in tbe end

we all had good times and hope'd they'd last
but time went on rolling on by far too fast
that lady in the window she's still singing
not about 'the end' but a new beginning.
It's surprising what comes into your mind whilst walking along an Outer Hebridean beach. This is a work of fiction yet it could of happened. Anything can happen on a Scottish Island, the Clearances were cruel but serendipity can be rich.
Bob B Mar 2018
SECURITY CLEARANCES

Rules at the White House...Who reads them?
Proper procedures...Who heeds them?
Security clearances
Make scant appearances.
The attitude is: Who needs them?

-by Bob B (2-20-18)

ON ****** MISCONDUCT

Trump says you just have to say,
“I didn’t do it,” and they
Will blame your accusers
And call them all losers.
That’s life in Trumpworld today!

-by Bob B (2-21-18)

GUNS

More GUNS in our schools, Trump swears,
Will STOP the school shootings. He dares
To repeat what the vice pres
Of the NRA says.
They're BOTH lacking something upstairs.

-by Bob B (2-23-18)

HIRING THE BEST?

We know that Trump knows how to fire ‘em,
But how does his conduct inspire ‘em?
Three of his men
Are felons now. When
Will HE ever learn how to hire ‘em?

-by Bob B (2-23-18)

REFORM

Gun-law reform will crash
If Trump believes that it's rash.
The gun lobby's puppet
Will never give up; it
Is hard when you count on their cash.

-by Bob B (2-24-18)
B Apr 2018
The saying goes: airports and funerals see the saddest people
The saddest people are those at Walmart at midnight
Dressed in the lazy pajamas of tomorrow morning
And baggy eyed in the missed responsibilities of today
Being at Walmart at midnight is like going to church on Tuesday
Your timing was a little off, but at least you tried
Aisles full of 'clearances' and 'don't look at me's'
(but also please acknowledge my existence)
And then I realize that I am at Walmart at midnight
I am sad. But I am not cat-food-road-map-cart sad
So, I got that going for me
Three word prompt. Place, time, emotion.
Living this life of crime can barely amount to a dime sick of the slime played by the times
Hand masters of disaster break the elites craft first round draft
In outta space I'm.feelin' outta place cuz my heart's faced
With nothing but misery even my homies from elementary don't recognize me it's like they see a figure ghostly
But somehow my enemies recognize me see it's all apart of conspiracy  blame a ***** then Killa ***** keep my eyes on the trigger
Mr government the real hood critics pitch black like Riddick flows sick with it
Watch a bird get feed with dead seeds ***** deeds made for wicked needs took apart of the soldiers creed indeed
But **** what's the parties gotta say cuz in the end it was a good day

As we approach the end of the song take another hit the **** rhymes goes on
Bringin' back the real hip hop this new **** is slop time to make the crops
Planted in a field of lyrics hard for ya clear it my enjoyment is others annoyance mad cuz I made clearances they flows in hesitant aim persistent at any distance
Folks talk **** but can't see me or my prodigy all eyes on me
Like Tupac I pack two Glocks keep it locked to a combination it'll take a nation to dissemble my beautiful ensembles life's a gamble don't many wanna ramble
In the valley of the shadow of skulls bashin' foes draw illusions like a snort of coke up the nose my flows go
Pass the pinnacle lay my mental shackle I'll wake you with gun shells that'll bake you
Over a certain degrees then you freeze mortician doing ya make up now at the knees of death pleas


Feelin' the vibes of the beat while smokin' a swisher sweet in the heat
Of Texas dont plex with us or else my guns'll get jealous **** this *** named Noelis
My flows similiar to the Goodfellas skin tone is Nutella tell.me who.do it better knock the feathers
Off ya bird chest I invest in myself so no need for a vest
Suckas takin' shots at my head but I'm dodgin' the feds still take in the hood as my daily bread scared cuz I might get ahead
Feel the wrath and my blood path without a laugh graphic as Genghis fools wanna cling to us
Cuz I be platinum plus a matter of the universe for every verse laid Lyrically paid none could charade or serenade
My energy others die quickly tryna hang with the king ***** I'm ya majesty

— The End —