"loaner" poems
I
LOVE
SILENCE,
PEOPLE,
NATURE,
PRIVACY,
LIFE !
I AM
A
LOANER !!
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 2:04 AM UTC
Finkle Rat and Derby Cat
Opened up a specialty shop
Which was running rather smoothly
Till kids teeth began to rot
For what it was they sold were
Candy apples, Sugar Cubes, and Lemon Drops
With Fizzie Soda to make their quota
On the loaner they had got
You see the latest shipment of Fizzies
Came from the loan shark Marco Mole
To save themselves a buck or two
Our naive friends both sold their souls
And Marco doesn't care about
Any kids or their rotten teeth
Cause he also owns a piece of Charlie Cockroach
The dentist down the street
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 7:39 AM UTC
A basketball playing professor of law
Took advantage of an opportunity he saw
He ran as a Hyde Park resident
And became our celebrated president.
Hyde Park the home of Argonne lab and the U of C
Fathered many Nobel Prize winners and nominees to be
More than Harvard, they cared not it would seem
They claimed to have a better football team.
I'll have to renew my loaner card
Obama placed his library in our backyard
His presidential record there for all to see
What a waste, says Donald Trump
He doesn't mention me.
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 1:17 PM UTC
A woman who leaves her children isn’t a mother but a donor,
egg loaner.
She walked away from us, no longer mother,
or friend.
or other.
She never wanted us. Not me, not my brother.
And,
to be honest,
if I saw her today walking next to a stranger.
I wouldn’t tell one from the other.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 5:41 AM UTC
I remember dad sitting and reading
each evening after dinner
once he and me had washed up in the galley kitchen.
After, I remember him stripping down to the waist
and body washing at the sink, then completing
his evening shave.
I remember his big old badger shaving brush
and a shaving mug refilled with Old Spice.
I remember the odour, filling the kitchen
and sticking to him.
But mostly I remember him in his white vest
in the brown armchair under the warm standard lamp,
feet up by the fire, reading his books.
Wilbur Smith.
Alastair MacLean.
Jack Higgins.
The Sound of Thunder.
Ice Station Zebra.
Wrath Of The Lion.
Always a hardback. Always a loaner
from the regular family trips
to the woods and the library.
Always sitting in his heady mix
of Old Spice, Brylcreem and St Bruno,
reading and relishing the opportunity
to pass the book on to me
telling me of his envy of my first read
of the adventure he’d just finished.
Aug 24, 2022
Aug 24, 2022 at 4:12 PM UTC
Over the wintery forests,
Wind howls with no leaves to blow.
There are none so savage as the bear,
Fearsome, red in tooth and claw.
Coming forth from the frozen north to commune with nature and me.
The noble beast is best left in peace.
Strong like mountain, fearless like tiger,
The fire burns within the spirit.
Wise dark gaze, voice of quiet or roar.
He rises with purpose.
He is Powerful in body and mind.
Roamer,loaner he walks the forest floor.
The bear guides through dreams and dangers unseen.
He walks as an animal, he stands as a man,
He remains eternal he is the bear.
Written April 9th 2014
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
I
cry for peace
for the love of God.
tears push through my lashes
I see the truth, clearly now,
the only discovery, myself.
I
smile at the grey sky
laugh with the thunder
of Earth, of our souls.
embracing the clouds that
keep us cool, and with water.
grey clouds used to
bog me down, like a lead foot,
held to the ground.
to have eyes to see through those
clouds,
to see you and me and our Sun.
she greeted me this morning.
I cry.
I cry for every I love you,
every embrace,
each new bond created,
all weaknesses overcome.
I cry for God, the tears of love.
the tears of the clouds.
my body combining con del mar
lifted high above, released on skin.
lighten the load, cleanse the core.
I cry, I release my God essence
back
to the whole, never disconnected,
loaner tears.
never mine to share
nor mine to keep in,
I've come out, deliverance desired.
my tears rush out, overwhelmed
I have nothing to offer, we are one.
all I know, you have. I am you too.
self realized, patterns breaking.
consistency is the key.
I walk and I cry and I smile and I laugh and I love
I love. the specifics of source
only to be understood at
reunification, and so I walk
and I cry, beyond faith,
into the truth of God.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
Love is a loaner armchair
Low enough to relax me
Built to embrace me
With arms that support me
While I return to my book
And sup hot tea
Aug 24, 2024
Aug 24, 2024 at 8:38 AM UTC
Most of my travels,
A loaner, no one by my side,
Looking at situations,
Wondering why,
I’ll give effort to help anyone,
If they are honest, and will try.
The road I’m traveling,
Will narrow, towards the finish line,
What I don’t achieve now,
May forever, be extra weight,
I will carry, in my mind,
I’ve failed or achieved before,
I can’t put a pause,
On what’s left,
Of my precious,
Time.
Tom Maxwell ©
4/1/2020 AD
11:00 Am
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 7:46 PM UTC
Take away from me not
The one reason to be
Able to dream and believe
In a sweet emotion, life taught
I have lived in it a lot
Call it my dream
Call it my belief
Call it my character of sorts
Expect No one to call the shot
No one to reciprocate, I got
To find it in the abstract
It’s not for an act
It’s an emotion of my thought
I need no loaner
I need no moaner
I dare to live it
A reason to get
Into the sweetness, life brought
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 5:20 AM UTC
Over the hill they say
When it comes to my age,
I miss the golden years
But now my fears
Have arrested me in worry caves
And as a young man
I could count the cars
Passing by dads house.
But now I'm older
A geezer, a loaner
To those I want to help.
Like dad did with
All his friends
Loaned out wanting nothing back
These are the morals
Dad taught me
As I remember
Dad had my back.
reminiscence was pop's speciality
Now I have reminiscence
Of things that used to be,
An elder now
With his stringed guitar
I sing dad's words
In my concerts
And bars.
And wherever I go to
His words are stuck in my head
Son, don't die young
When your older
"Your already dead".
Those talks will not leave me
My golden years actually just begun.
Dad was right
In my restless nights
I'd find a wife
For me to love.
I'm glad that pop had met her
She was a daughter to his last wishes
On his bed
I kissed his head
Goodbye dad.
To the azure
You will gallivant
With your banjo, and string with me.
While I'm jamming down in dads rock and rolling dimension.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
I always felt
You can make anyone
Happy by offering a tip
But, some situations
Will prove you wrong
Today when I went to the dealer
For servicing
And when I reached there
I am welcomed by an elderly person
As yesterday we had a blizzard
I couldn't completely clean my car
I apologized him and then asked if that is ok
His reply
"Not to worry sir, it will melt anyway".
Am very happy by his gesture, the warmth in his voice, caring and love just reminded me of my late grand father.
He took my car inside and brought me a loaner car
While taking the loaner, I offered him tip.
He politely rejected and said
"You are good man, I did my job."
No words from my mouth. Then I saw some blood strains on his face
I asked him about it he said it's because of one of the car's door.
He then said, "see I got this, than a tip".
His point is my caring.
I am inspired by his gesture.
How many people we will encounter like him
I don't know.
By the way his name is Bob. That's what I heard I don't even know his full name. I made a mistake but, he is busy I can't disturb him though.
But, he will be in my thoughts and also in my prayers.
Location
Grand Subaru
bensenville, Illinois
Thank you Bob for your gesture. You made my day. Am blessed.
Small actions lead to major impacts
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
you see the boy at high school you send wispers all around tearing him up inside. he say nothing as you just push him around. every day he is scilent and never even makes a sound. that loaner is me. i just watch the world go bye. i dont have any thing to say expet i am going down the road of life solatuid shunning away people. that boy you watch every day he grows moe quiet but has a weapon of his choice. his words that shoots like bullets hitting tarkets with kinds solam words that lighten the impact. that boy who alawys walked home alone every day. he has no words exept (his big blue)eyes that make the statmenst that keept him sane.
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
IN THIS LIFE,NOW I SEE NO MORE CHARM,
ON THE WAY TO BE A LOANER,NO HARM !!
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC