KIDS

ALMOST 13

Whats really going on ?

T.V. for hours - THEY"RE GONE !

Homework maybe and radio on.

Let me fill this pot bowl.

Stereo loud - rock song on.

Beer, tobacco - night stand.

Strobe light with color on.

My life is getting funny.

Now all the house lights on.

The couch - my favorite pillow.

What is happening to me ?

Crazy thoughts that just wont flee.

Into the bathroom - head down.

Tears running over the deep frown.

Into the mirror I loke.

A JUNKY WHORE - PLUS A CROOK !

The blood is dripping now.

They don't love me - another down.

On the floor with one knee.

Dead I am in this red sea.


from my poem book - DREAMS 2

 

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PIES

The rain has just ended.

I myself inside feel bended.

Into the yard I'll creep.

Out the back door, by the sweep.

There the dirt hills, road fleet.

With shovel this dirt to keep.

I'll make Mommie a sweet treat.

Mix some water, with Puddles meat.

On the floor to place them neat.

Right by Mommies golden feet.

Neat little pies in a row.

Only to help Mommie, cook and sew.


from my poem book - DREAMS

 

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The Jealous Mockingbird

The Jealous Mockingbird

 

Once there was a mockingbird, whose name was Mike, sitting on the branch of a big three. He had not only shiny feathers but a mighty voice all his friends admired. He was singing his graceful song and dancing to it when another mockingbird sat next to him, one he had never seen before. “A new friend” he thought to himself, and decided to keep quiet in order to listen to him sing. This new mockingbird sang and his song was beautiful, but Mike was neither impressed nor delighted by his new friend’s talent, instead he felt jealousy, fearing that the song of his enemy was better than his. “This can’t be, my song is the best one there is. But just in case...” and the mockingbird decided to steal this song. And he practiced and practiced until he had master this new song, and now he could sing not only just his original song but this new one too. “This is proof that I am the best” he thought “if I can sing his song it means I am more talented than him”, and he went back to his nest to call it a day.

 

Next morning he woke up ready to show everyone his new talent and headed to the top branch of the highest tree, cleared his throat and sang his song full-throated, making sure that all his fellow mockingbirds could hear. As he always did, he catched the attention of all the other birds who kept quiet to listen to him and when they were all looking and him, he stopped for a second and began to sing his newly learned song. All the other birds froze, but not because they had liked this new song, but because they were shocked that Mike had sang a different song than his.

“This is outrageous” mockingbird Alexis, one of the elders, said “a mockingbird is born with a song of its own and that song is beautiful and original and special because it was composed specially for him” and he flew away offended at what he had just witnessed.

But not all of the mockingbirds thought like elder Alexis, and applauded Mike’s mastery on song-shifting. “If he can do it I can do it too” one of them said, “I bet we all can” the other one replied. And so it began that all the mockingbirds began to steal each other’s songs, changing from one to another and even forgetting their own. And newborn mockingbirds were no longer encouraged to find their true voice but to choose whose song to steal. And ever since Mike decided to still a song, no new songs had been heard and jealousy and mistrust spread, mockingbirds feared that they would be copied and always looked forward to coping others, and the old days when they all danced to their songs and shared them and admired the diversity were long gone. And it all began to decay until one day it was all over.

 

And this is the story of how the world ended. You may wonder why there were no explosions or chaos but you know what they say: “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper” (T. S. Eliot)

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Kenopsia

Folder: 
To Be Illustrated

"Almost tiring,

the bump of the shoulders passing by,

the hallways so full of students, mean, 

their intentions unknown to what they vie. 

 

But the Janitor, 

mop handle twisting in wrists, 

cleans the bustling halls, murder

of the sparkling floors committed with fervor.

 

Moreover, the students don't care!

But no matter, the Janitor smiles as he cleans,

leaning on his swab bucket, no flair

for how unfair redoing the swab job is.

 

But now it is after five,

the older gentleman is working his way up and down,

the passageways now empty, 

all the students long gone home. 

 

Quite the opposite scene,

from when the school was full,

a loud and swarming event, specifcally

during the lunch periods. 

 

And during those times? While constantly 

going back and forth, picking up spills

and keeping the floor clean,

he even feels grumpy.

 

But only now at this momement,

a longing, a forlorn feeling wraps itself

over the un-bumped shoulders of the man,

alone, doing his job.

 

The sudden wish the students were there,

to fill the empty space he cleans, 

the abandoned place to fill up soon,

but not a moment too late, he steams.

 

All the moments that he's spent,

breaking up a fight between two boys,

frankly taking both collars in each hand

and talking to them sharply, they listened.

 

The time he talked to the crying girl,

leaning on the mop handle, wise counsel

spewed at a comforting rate to the young one

who had her first broken heart. 

 

Or the time he tutored the troubled youth,

not in math or english but in life,

the boy sticking around while he cleaned. 

alone, his only brother having been knifed. 

 

Every smile he evoked,

with silly, word-play jokes,

every time he snapped at young students passing by, 

keeping the rowdy in line. 

 

The old man now smiled himself,

finishing up the entire school,

looking forward to the bustle to come,

the lockers that will slam, voices, loud.

 

The end of this feeling, eerie,

sudden, and no more farther then

when he will grumble, with a slight smile,

of the busy hallways where he will be bumped again."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A imagined scene of an old man janitor that we may or may not all remember or think back to.

Tree and Bird

Tree and Bird

 

Tree lets bird play, without shooing away

not taken by convulsive throes.

Like a primate, in a vegetative state

who wishes to scratch his nose.

Tree has a need, to spread his seed

so he welcomes little birds toes.

He offers a bribe, to be carried inside

and removed from my car with a hose.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

set to music here https://musescore.com/user/928886/scores/450486

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Ridiculous riddle

An astonishing adventure of...

A band of brotherly bugs

 

"Creepy crawlers" the crowd called

 

Disheartened, dishonored deemed the disheveled.

Everyone eked as they exited the entryway.

For they were fearless fighting for freedom.

 

"Go! Get  out! Be gone!" they all gasped.

 

"How did this happen?"

 

It was instantaneously indeed.

 

"Just to jump" the critters jokingly jested.

 

"Kill the king!" the kid cackled.

 

Loudly laughing, luring them to the lake, to make him a meal for the mammoth big mouthed monster.

 

"Never!" Near our end, in our nautical nightmare.

 

Our orphaned oily selves, oh is our fate.

Plunged into the pleasantly cool pond to ponder.

Question? "Question what I ask"

Rid of our reality, it is our reality to reveal.

Snatched up by a snag of a sapling root.

Taken, tortured, torn into two.

Unearthed creatures with one purpose.

Valiantly trying to wiggle..wiggle..wiggle...

X marks the spot they yelled.

 

"Young one reel it in, we got one"

 

And that is what  I was, simply a worm with no real purpose.  

Only to be fish food for fun.

For the worm was no more..ZZZZ.

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Monkey Shines

Folder: 
Just a thought!

I want to be a monkey, and swing around all day,

Then, I'd go where all the monkeys live,

And ask them all to play.

We'll chase each other round the park, having lots of fun,

Then, eat bananas from a tree,

While basking in the sun.

We'll hang around the monkey bars and play a game or two,

Cause that's what little monkeys like,

While living in a Zoo.


by Barry Anderson

 

 

 

 

 


Author's Notes/Comments: 

"Monkey Shines"

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The Orchard

Folder: 
Just a thought!

Growing up in the Orchard, my cousins close at hand

Always running, always hiding, in this fruit filled parcel of land

Our days flew by under an Orchard sky, shortened only as darkness fell

My Aunt would holler, (Get in here boys),  as she rang that stupid bell.

We'd race to the porch and run inside with a trusty screen door bang

In the dead of night, and a spring too tight, it made a healthy clang.

Calling out, "it's dinner time", she'd shove a plate our way,

We'd force it down, (already full), from the apple fest that day.

Who wants dessert? Not us, we're full. She said... well give it a try

I looked at Jeff and Jeff looked at me...guess what, it's apple pie.

Our bellies full, unable to move, we called it an early night..

We'll dream among the apple trees, awaiting morning light.

                                     By Barry Anderson

                        

Author's Notes/Comments: 

"Days of youth"

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The Record Store, flash fiction story

The record store

--

It started with gray, gray everywhere. But it wasn’t in any sort of literal way; it was just a really rainy day that most of the room was turning gray. Two girls were lying at the floor with no motivation and lipstick smeared all over their chins. “This Is killing me, man” “Yeah, I know, but you were the first one who wanted to wake up early y’know?” “So what should we do?” “Well, it’s rainy, and we ate most of the food between yesterday and today, do you have any money left at all?” “As a matter of fact, I do, you know I’m very good with my savings” “Yeah? What about last weekend” “So? Do you want the money or not?” “Let’s go to a record store” “But it’s far away” “Your parents aren’t home anyway, and we have no electricity in this place, we might as well just stay here and it won’t change the fact that there’s nothing else to do” “Fine” one of the girls sighed “But if we do go to the record store, I’m not leaving that place until I find something of The Strokes” “Yeah yeah, hurry”. So they left the house and went to the nearest Record Store, and it was still gray everywhere. Gray, buildings, gray sky, gray people. They Arrived. And although it was still gray, it wasn’t empty at all. They entered, and assistant boys with black shirts were stacking everything really fast, because discounts of New Year ’s Eve were getting near.  “You go that way” pointing the alternative area “And I’ll go that way” pointing the oldies but goldies area. The girl at the oldies but goldies was mostly searching for gifts,  but she actually found very good ones by 80s artists such as Robert Smith, Morrissey and other, and of course, Glam forgotten artists. “There are so many” she sighed again. One of the boys with blue shirt arrived “Is there anything I Could help?” “No thank you I’m actually pretty fine” The boy, although he looked tired and as if he didn’t had a shower in 2 days still smiled with kindness “I see you’re holding a The Cure and The Smiths records, do you fancy 80s music?” “I Like it, yeah, it’s ideal for this weather” “I totally agree” “Thanks anyway” But the Boy still smiled and got closer “You know, tomorrow we will have more discounts than today, you should come back tomorrow, too” “Ah, you’re just saying that to help you get more money to your company” “You caught me”, the boy laughed, and leaned towards a stack of vinyl’s “You know, my mother introduced me to The Cure when I was little, I never thought I could like them so much, sometimes I’m very impatient with music, I like it or I don’t, and there’s no in between,  for example” and he took a bunch of albums very rapidly “Out of these ones (They were  New Order, Poison, Pulp, and other) “Do you think I could like them?” “Uh, I don’t know” the girl started to worry but remained calm “Probably, if you listened them” “Yeah I guess you’re probably right, but still, I hate it when bands change their style completely, like the Monkeys, do you like the Monkeys?” “Arctic?  Yeah, they’re good, I have most of their albums” “Well, their new one is terrible, it arrived really early in here, and I got a free sample” The boy started to get closer but still he was getting a childish-like anger. “…And It was terrible, don’t get me wrong, I love them, but I just can’t dig it, it’s not good music to me anymore, and my last girlfriend, oh my god, did she like ‘em, she was just a pain in my butt, always talking about them, not that I don’t like girls that like the monkeys, it’s just, I like more care-free girls, or maybe that’s just me, you know, they say, boys and girls look people who resemble to their parents, I think that’s psychology, not sure, but I’m studying a masters in politics so I’ll have to search for that ”

 

 “I need to listen to it. And, I guess, wasn’t that a Freud theory?” “We have it right there, but buy these ones today, and If you come tomorrow I can make you a great discount” “Sounds great” said the girl trying to keep up with the boy’s temperament “So, I know this will be me rushing too fast, and It’s illegal, don’t tell anyone, let me buy you a coffee, Starbucks, yeah” “As in, today?” “Or whenever you say” “Okay, okay, let me go back tomorrow” Sounds excellent to me” “Thank you, so that’ll be it, I have to back with my friend” “It was nice meeting you” the boy was still smiling with kindness but it was noticeable the lack of sleep he had “He probably had a lot of coffee” the girl said to herself to calm herself down of the amount of experiences she had with just one person. She went with her friend. The other girl was smirking almost laughing at her face “So I see you had fun ehhhhhhhhhh?” “Shut up” “Oh, come on! He’s not the craziest people you have met, and you know that, he actually looks nice, without that, caffeine, not-showering-in-days-look” “He talked about his mother and his ex-girlfriend with me, and other stuff I can’t remember” “Keeper!” the girl shouted “Shut up!” the other one blushed and gave a little punch to the other girl “Hurry up, please” “No, no, maybe I should talk to him too, he could become part of the family soon enough” “You’re terrible, I’m not buying you albums” “Alrighty, it’s okay, I got everything let’s go, I see you’re suffering” The Girl, still red took the albums and paid for everything.  They went out of the store, the boy was looking at them, but he was attending some other people. “It’s over now, let’s go and eat” “Yeah”. It was still gray, the buildings and people were still gray,  but even though it was gray, they gave the girls something to talk about on a gray day.