Rain for the Ivy

(Photo by Mike Hall)

Rain for the Ivy
The ivy
creeps
over the
edge of
the cement wall
of this old two-lane bridge,
and the roots of the plants find life anchors in
cracks where they shouldn’t be at all.
I believe in the many possibilities,
And the potential of what I can’t see.
Faith in myself and people sustain me.
This is my reality I face every day.
The guy on the radio says there’s lots
of sunshine coming my way,
but I really wish it would rain
so the ivy would get a shower of
life and keep
on growing as I drive over the
the bridge again.

Do you have a start of a poem, but the words just aren’t right? Go for help at the Poetry First Aid.

A Poet

I am a phonetic engineer,
working with sounds in words,
weighing the value of each word
while trying to tell a story at the
same time using the basic tools
of the trade to write a poem.
I take an old theme, and make
the story original with a new
twist with some rhyme, but
only part of the time since there
are more tricks I can use.
Syllable by syllable,
stanza by stanza,
the work is created in a form
people would want to read.
Editing makes the order
of the words stronger, and
soon another poem is done.

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The Stranger

Don’t give in to the cowboy who doesn’t
carry a Bowie or a six-gun,
especially if he seems to be the lonely one.
There probably has a past that is deadly,
and is one son who, if he wanted to, could
easily get things done.
Don’t get in his way, even though he might
not have that much to say.
He is, in his mind, at peace today,
but there may be a violent past in his yesterday.
Still water in the river runs deep,
and there may be nights he doesn’t really sleep.
There may be secret he vowed to himself
to keep, and a reflex action will bring him to his feet.
If you see him walk around the town,
don’t be concerned much about his frown,
for there may be problems keeping him down
and the lines etched in his face are thorns in his crown.
So be just aware by the weight of your stare
when you look at this man with his back to
the corner of the room.

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Fly Away

Look into my world.
Sit in my time chair.
From here, the past, the
present, and the future can be’ seen.
Concentrate on your mind’s powers.
The chair disappears.
you go whenever you want.
Then you return and
awake in my time machine.
And you never left the room.

To read this poem in French, click here.
Check out the photographic images in the Freeze Frame Photo Gallery on the World of Words.

Drive

As long as I have my extended-cab truck
I’ll be driving the open road.
Problems with weather, drivers and
Traffic don’t really get old.
The radio keeps me company, especially
When they play the country gold.
I just get behind the steering wheel,
And go where I’m told.
I have safety record awards by driving
Defensively and I am never bold.
Because I need to get to where I’m
Going and to deliver my load.
I love the freedom to be at different
Places and I’m always on the go.

This poem was written after what seemed like a whole day of driving for my job, which at the time did not require that much driving at one time.  I did work at a truck stop as a janitor for a while, but that’s the closest I’ve been to being a truck driver… Elias Tobias.
Learn 10 ways how you can harness the Power of Words with modern technology.

Sand Castle Dreams

Dreams are sand castles
that get washed away by the tides of time,
whipped the winds of change, and
soaked by the raindrops of emotion.

To read this poem in French, click here.
Photos by Mike Hall converted into brushed paintings are in the ArtBrushed Photo Gallery. Download art for free.

Big Red Hat

I first saw her when she was
Getting food for a cat.
The older woman in the grocery
Store was wearing a big red hat.
She was not very thin, but
She was not either very fat,
And her cart is filled half-way
With boxes, cans, this and that.
She looked like she was in a
Hurry and didn’t want to chat.
Her eyes were covered by the
Brim of the 1940’s style hat.
She passed me several times,
And I tried to not stare at her.

I really saw this lady while I was shopping on a Sunday at an Indianapolis grocery store… Elias Tobias.

Elias Tobias has a fan club web site, and you can get information by clicking here.

Watered-down dreams

I don’t need watered-down dreams,
Even though I’ve had enough of rain.
There’s more I can do it seems,
Even though my past has some stains.
I don’t think my life is complete,
And without you, it stays the same.

I don’t need watered-down dreams.
I’m sure of where I want to go.
There’s more I can do it seems,
But there’s more I need to know.
Changes have to happen in my life,
And I feel the lure of the open road.

I don’t need watered-down dreams.
Having you near is part of the plan.
There’s more I can do it seems,
And I do need the support of a fan
I don’t think my life is complete,
And I have to make my stand.

To read this poem in Spanish, click here.

Who is Elias Tobias? Go to his biography that is also in Spanish.

The Vine Becomes the Fence

The young, fresh,
wild vine reaches
up from the ground
and imitates the
form of the strong,
sturdy wire fence,  wrapping
around the metal
strands so tightly the
vine is almost
camouflaged until the leaves
grow and collect
more energy so,  left
unchecked, the stems
extend themselves until
the vine become the fence.
The network of wires
that once supported
the busy vine becomes
a dead skeleton replaced
by a system of green
stems and leaves,
and berries for the birds.

I lived at a rented house in Brownsville, Texas, where I had to clean the vines from the old wire mesh fence on a hot day. Elias Tobias

My Turn

I wish I could fall in love again.
It doesn’t seem to be my turn.
I see couples kiss and’ hold hands
to keep their love burning.
I’ve been in love before.
I like her lips against mine.
Something will happen to me
somewhere, someplace, sometime.

To read this poem in Spanish, click here.
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