Adapted – A Poem by Steve Denehan
Learning of his death just yesterday
I breathed in
the quiet devastation
of realising
that I was fine
It is always raining somewhere
I suppose
deep poems about life
Steady – A Poem by Sravani Singampalli
When I was in third grade
I heard the story
Of ‘The Tortoise and the Hare’.
I learnt the moral
That slow and steady wins the race.
I behaved like a tortoise
Until I came across the fact
That cheetah is the fastest
Creature on earth.
A cheetah isn’t slow
But can win a race easily!
Then what is this story
Of fast and slow?
It is not about these two words
Not about running
Not about walking like a tortoise
But more to do
With one’s consistency.
Now I know that
Steady was the word
I was ignoring
All those days!
Life Lessons Learned at Your Knee – A Poem by Roy Pullam
I was not prepared
For the long separation
A complete independence
I never wanted
You did not see gray
Your values
So absolute
That I often felt
I fell short
In your eyes
You had no time
For hate
Though to many
Poverty and trash
Went in the same bin
And though
You were knocked down
You never stayed down
With the feeling
That only cowards
Bemoaned their faith
That I
Should never stop trying
Should never settle
For ease
It rings in my ears
The bell of truth
The sound of your voice
School Mornings – A Poem by Roy Pullam
I lay in my bed
Sinking in the feather down
The cover
High on my neck
The fire in the grate
Banked to save
The coals
For the morning
The cold gathering
In the back
Of the room
I could see my breath
The chill
On my face
Causing me
To burrow
Beneath the quilts
Gradually my ears
Regained feeling
I slept
A deep dreamless sleep
Until the clock
Urged me
From my cocoon
I took the poker
Stirring the fire
Reawakening the slumbering flames
Gathering the ashes
Into a shovel
Loading a bucket
Taking them out
Exchanging them
For the black fuel
That warmed the house
I waited
Watching the fingers
Of flame
Break apart
The lumps
Now warm enough
The water heated
On the kitchen stove
Poured in a #2 washtub
For my morning bath
Toweling myself off
I sat close
In my underwear
The warmth
Soaking in
Like a lizard
On a warm rock
I cherished
The moments
Stirring only
To get dressed
To begin
The long walk
To school
Valhalla Can Wait – A Poem by Paul Tristram
There’s another Spring a-coming
after this long, bitter Winter.
The path is twisting fiercely
but that does not signify an ending
merely a new chapter beginning.
I’ve still strength enough
to work the morning anvil
and carve miracles from wood.
I’ve Fathered all my Offspring
but I’m yet to watch them grow.
My wheat and barley
are only shoulder-high…
there’s still a-way to go.
Before the grinning Reaper
takes a swipe
and a-tumbles me like snow.
My battle-axe still has room
for a few fresh notches yet.
I can thunder with the best of them,
my instincts remain sharp and true.
There’s another barn to build somewhere,
always more horse’s hooves to shoe.
I’ve learnt my lessons hard and well,
I take comfort in small pleasures.
Whilst striving always higher,
each extra sunrise is a gift, a treasure.
More at https://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.