Wish for My Tots

Wish for My Tots

Budding years grow with no indifference.
If, stretch your arms giving all room,
stay content for everything you win and own

Every sphere of life holds something new,
awaiting to unfold till you blow.
Your every milestone is a riddle
 that you ply, in the kindergarten now.

Look out for a pleasure that make you smile,
your innocence for color, repulsive for bias,
might win few fellows for future endeavor.

Your head and nerve need its own harmony,  
to catch up the flow of life, with little efforts of cordial spin.
Your life cycle may rhyme as “Wheels of bus go round and round”.

Budding years wait for your own canvas,
to make no indifference in life.
Arise and awake to make your own choice of destiny
Oh! my little tots.

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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.


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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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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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

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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

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

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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