SAT Day

Roger:
It’s so rigid
It’s so locked
They want to put you in a box
A box that, if you let it, will become your coffin for life
No chance to break out
Find the real you
Locked in time

Samantha:
Fixated
Asphyxiated
Breathless
Timeless

Broderick:
Like Goldilocks
Find the perfect fit
The perfect rhyme
Escaping time

Morgan:
To walk
To live
To breathe
To leave

Karissa:
Fluidity
Lucidity
Corporate identity
Break that!

All:
Rigorous rigidity replaced by the creation of one’s own reality
Old rigid ways locked forever in a box
Key thrown into the deep blue of sea
I just wanna be ME!
See me!
Create my own-self,
Reality.

Handwtitten poetry by John M. Hines, October 19, 2016

 

 

Time to Go!

When the joy has fallen out
Broken pieces of the bowl that held it
Lying on the floor terrazzo
Contents spilt like all of tiny grains of sand
Uncountable,

Voices of reasons to remain now tiny whispers
Like memory fragments of a summer spent
Idly by the sea,

Memories of sweeter times faded
Like the old tattered curtains still barely hanging from their rods
in the cottage at the water’s edge.

Sweet,
Sour,
Distant,
Time to
“Beat it Kid!”

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, October, 2016

Ode to Autumn

Hints of Autumn’s grace
Blowing in on
Matthew’s trace

As I sit beneath Sir Hawk
Who’s just landed in the old laurel tree,
Summer’s last breath’s canopy

Cricket sounds quickly replace
The cicada songs of summer
As dusk rolls in without subtlety

Looking west at setting sun
Making prayers for fullness of Autumn’s grace
To whisper in upon the whooshing remnant winds of Sir Matthew

Relief such as brought
By the verdant grass of Whitman,
A psalm to lift this sentient September soul
From the humidity it rests in.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, October, 2016

Frog Sounds

(For Jenna)

Mr. Frog of amphibious verdant green
Ribbit ting, Ribbit ting
Ting, ting, Ting
With delight
Over the hurricane wet grass,
How do you do?, I said,
Ribbit ting, Ribbit ting
Ting, ting, Ting
To my new little green friend.

Very fine,
He quickly answered
In a most affable voice,
Almost as if speaking in his native tongue,
How do you do?

And I went back inside
To wait for the storm within my head
To clear
To match the blue skies opening overhead
And the drier air sweeping in,
With its hints of Autumn’s grace,
Ting, ting, Ting
Three days later
Still echoing
Through the walls of this old house.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, October, 2016

Pray for Florida

Pray for Florida,
Yeah, pray:
Pray for your neighbor as you check in on them,
Pray for your family as you huddle together in your shelter place,
Pray for a stranger as you make them a friend,
Pray for another driver as you yield the right of way,
Pray for another last minute shopper as you split the last one on the shelf,
Pray for each other as you weather this storm together
And deal with the devastation of its path,
The aftermath
Of Matthew
Pray for Florida
Yeah, pray.

Handcrafted poetry by John Hines, October 6, 2016