sail the seas,
Without satellites,
And telecommunications,
Without the computers,
For future generations,
Without a vision,
For minds to see,
A larger world,
This would be.
Author: Randolph Knight
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Poetry in Golf!
I had just teed up,
Took my three wood in hand,
I drove the ball,
Through a strong tailwind.
And the ball rose quickly,
Rising higher than high,
Like riding the crest,
Of a wave in the sky.
Then the ball broke downward,
Spilling onto the green,
Running up to the cup,
Like a tiny machine.
But the ball hesitated,
On the cup’s outer rim,
Would a good stroke of luck,
Make this one go in?
Though less than a minute,
It was over and done,
The trill of a lifetime,
My first hole in one.
Author: Randolph Knight
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As Long As
As long as the sun keeps shining,
Another day will make,
And as long as the air is fresh and clean,
Another breath we'll take,
And as long as the girls need courting,
The boys will hang around,
And as long as the words keep coming,
I'll keep writing them down.
Author: T. Sky Handring
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The Train
The flashing red lights,
The clamoring of bells,
The crossing arm lowered,
Almost too close to tell,
If the arm touched my car,
It didn’t matter now,
Because the motion of the train,
Mesmerized me somehow,
The train horn was noisy,
The engine a fright,
Like a charging rhinoceros,
Coming out of the night,
First one car, then two,
Now three and then four,
This train had me counting,
Each freight car door,
Like the pages of a book,
The cars flipped by,
Until I had counted,
One hundred fifty-five,
Then the very last car,
Passed out of my sight,
Ending the spell,
On me, for this night,
But I knew up ahead,
At the next rail crossing,
The spell was beginning,
For the next person watching.
Author: Randolph Knight
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The Beauty of the Seasons
I love the beauty of the seasons,
As they come and go,
The colors of the autumn leaves,
A fluffy winter’s snow,
Young birds singing in the spring,
The early summer sun,
The beauty of the seasons,
How I love them, one by one.
Author: T. Sky Handring
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The Man, the Mandolin, and the Dog
I stopped to rest on interstate eight,
But a noisy crowd kept me awake,
So I went to see what the fuss was all about,
While a chubby little man played the mandolin,
A tiny white dog was dancing in,
What the man described as canine quarter time,
And if the chubby little man paused to wet his lips,
Or eat a few potato chips,
The tiny dog stood waiting patiently,
Inside a rusty pail resting on the ground,
Bills and coins were scattered round,
Tips from those who paid to see the show,
I could hardly wait to tell my friends,
All about this strange event,
Of the man, the dog, the crowd, and the mandolin,
But I figured out I'd been asleep,
When I awoke on my car’s front seat,
And quickly found the event was only a dream,
So I made a promise when I travel alone,
To leave the spicy foods at home,
And only dine in exclusive restaurants.
Author: T. Sky Handring
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The Robin
I was out in the yard,
When a robin flew in,
I was amazed he could walk,
His legs were so thin,
But he was here searching,
For something to eat,
And in his quest for food,
He didn't notice me,
Then he cocked his head,
Eyes and ears to the ground,
Trying to find something,
That was crawling around,
And then for a minute,
He pecked at the soil,
So I suppose he had found,
What he was looking for,
And the expression he had,
As he flew away,
Led me to believe,
This would be a good day.
Author: T. Sky Handring
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Ode to Olympic High School
Olympic High,
Now I can fly,
You gave me everything,
When you gave me wings,
Olympic High,
I’ll touch the sky,
Now through the storms of life,
I know I’ll survive,
Farewell old friend,
What a time it’s been,
Seems only yesterday,
That I was a freshman,
Yet it’s graduation day,
And I must find a way,
But it’s hard to say,
Goodbye to you,
Olympic High
Author: T. Sky Handring
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Poetry Lives
You can see it in the stars,
Shining in the night sky,
You can feel it in the sun,
As the days go rolling by,
You can find it in the heart,
Of a near and dear friend,
You can hear it in the rain,
Or in the whisper of the wind,
And it's so accommodating,
And always willing to give,
Through the mind of the beholder,
Poetry will continue to live.
Author: T. Sky Handring
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Bridges Never Built
We wanted to be together,
But it wasn't meant to be,
We stood on opposite sides of the river,
Flowing rapidly to the sea,
And like the rose that never bloomed,
For fear that it might welt,
We couldn’t reach each other,
Over bridges never built.
Author: T. Sky Handring
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Blessed
My heart is beating,
And I've clothes to wear,
The warmth of the sun,
Fills the morning air,
Birds are singing,
I can hear their talk,
And I have no pain,
On my morning walk,
And I have a good roof,
Over my head,
I've something to eat,
And a comfortable bed,
So I feel blessed,
In so many ways,
And once again,
I’m having another blessed day.
Author: Randolph Knight
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Days of Black and White
Kodac
hrome and Technicolor,
Made motion pictures nice,
But as for me, I’d rather be,
In the days of black and white,
For a true awareness existed,
As to what was wrong or right,
And what we have now,
Is not what we had then,
In the days of black and white.
Author: Randolph Knight
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Words
The word is “you” plural,
In most people’s eyes,
And women are still women,
Instead of “you guys”,
And “have a nice day”,
Is patronizing somehow,
Hello, goodbye, and good day,
Seem more appropriate now,
Regain the comparative,
Of the word “gentle”, now,
And lose the word “gentler”,
Not a real word anyhow,
Let’s shove” blew me off”,
Right out the back door,
And bring through the front,
The proper word, “ignored”,
And “my error”, or “my fault”,
Remains to be had,
If we refuse to listen,
To those saying “my bad”,
And if someone says “he goes”
Instead of “he said”,
We’ll reprimand him dearly,
From his toes to his head,
It’s most important today,
That we work to preserve,
The decency and the dignity,
Of the proper spoken word.
Author: Randolph Knight
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Addiction
Don’t look at her if she walks by,
She’ll see desire in your eyes,
And if you leave your heart strings at her door,
She’ll pull you in from across the floor,
She’ll pick you up then lay you down,
She’ll make your feet float off the ground,
And all the while, she’s debonair,
For she’s the lovely puppeteer.
She writes the scripts, she makes the rules,
You’re just another dancing fool,
And though you’ll try to walk away,
The more you leave, the more you’ll stay,
And when it’s time to start the show,
She’ll tell your mind which way to go,
You’ll lose the ones that you hold dear,
For she’s the lovely puppeteer,
And when the final curtain falls,
She’ll place you in a box with walls,
And you’ve fallen as low as you can get,
For now you are her marionette.
Author: Randolph Knight
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Click
A guard taps his heels together,
Click, click,
Prisoners working in the field,
Pick, pick,
The guard signals the prisoners to