New York Harbor Over Time - by Bob Atkinson 7349

New York Harbor Over Time

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson 7349

New York Harbor

river Hudson empties into

a Bay of pure extended beauty

newly arrived cultures, forever changed

by thoughts of natives seen as strange

York and Jersey rebuilt anew

home to hopes of growth and purity

ideas absorbed by this land of dreams

modified by wisdom of native themes

freedom, democracy, that new ideal

for immigrants who first settled here

royalty unknown as form of order

one person, same worth as the other

old world had different dreams

King's wishes held there always supreme

royal blood or monies' wealth

condemned the common man to hell

new thoughts from natives impaled

immigrants within them strong ideals

words spoken told meanings abundant

here in the land of moist bright summers

something new drove dreams to fruition

a free land, growth by hard work preened

was not one's father most important

but what one worked for, with sweat abundant

value defined newly minted ambition

not by station, but by accomplishment

who have you helped today with effort

how many furrows plowed straight and narrow

how many roads have you paved with stone

how many dams erected to conquer flooding

how many rails laid on solid beds of gravel

how many bellies have you fed in your travels

real adventure became the vision

freedom to climb upon the top of mountains

by work sustained with calloused hands

or failure, death, if luck not commanded

ships of cargo bringing goods

some human, some with culture's tools

some with willingness to change

some brought remnants of older days

some who tried, some who failed

some who left it, some who stayed

some who moved toward inward lands

some killed by arrows of roving bands

some driven to tears outside their homes

by those without developed norms

some banding together for common good

some loving that new land where they stood

The High and the Mighty - by Bob Atkinson

The High and the Mighty

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Forum-photobucket
High and Mighty theme by Les Baxter 

so far above our homes

we soar with those who fly

as birds of super strength inside

powered vessels with wings that shine

skill, supreme in form and deed

holding our lives within sound thoughts

a high and mighty force of nature
stands heaven bent for rocket's launch

again descending slowly upon the earth

as if to rest fine feathers painted

until another show of skill's required

of modern dinos, glowing eyes, strange faces

fierce animals of the sky

with breath so hot behind

blasts noise loud as dragons of old
which had white knights ever terrified

these creatures controlled by thought

span our world in hours oh so short

never letting borders hold us back
same with rivers, mountains and oceans

Emotional Literal Tomes - by Bob Atkinson

Emotional Literal Tomes

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

18 Stoic Faces
Emotion of Disgust 

have written words before on

this subject some have blessed

how poetry fills the heart

with endless emotional progress

some give the subject passing grades

some give it no real thought

some think they know its content

see poetry as fully rotten

well, to some extent I do believe

that enough has be done

to give the genre a bad rap

with words of nonsense rung

rung from that tree of indecision

like a person in the park

who knows not which path to take

how to get home before the dark

they pen words of nonsense

taking the mantle for their name

of "poet" of the highest order

without good words to claim

not only are their words so frail

but their stories often walk

off in that useless direction

only they would think was smart

so, let's add to the "do's" of poetry

that requirement firmly instilled

emotional aspects must poetry contain

without which the story lies insincere

also, must refrains contain

a literal view of life

to point us toward our fate

or lay bare our inner strife

tomes must within these walls

sense passion of our being

stories telling those incidents

of which we feel have meaning

Art and the Arts - by Bob Atkinson

Art and the Arts

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Art

divergent activities to engage

our minds, or hearts our own half page

with nods we see our created world

engaged forever, banners unfurled

visual art on which we forever gawk

painting, printing and photographs

fill our heads with inner pride

of those with whom we share our ride

construction also deepens thrills

design of buildings, dams and rails

architecture stands unique in spirit

in forces of our wacky essence seeded

song, dance and romance of stage

recording, filming acting strange

we add to feelings of temperament

driving imagination rampant

therein lies our full life quest

build, create and decorate brilliantly

enjoy what's given, contribute some

enhance this region of rising sun

Casa Grande the Big House - by Bob Atkinson

Casa Grande

the Big House

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Grande Ruins National Monument

gone, that vibrant populace

living securely in its realm

those people who created

Hohokam traditions well

living freely on the Gila

a river of moisture in spite of dryness

crops of corn, beans and cotton

grew high with nurtured kindness

keeping those within high walls

satisfied, well fed with cloth of wealth

these fiercely independent souls

built a city with good sense

they left not stories of their lives

so sad, my tears commence

when thinking how they could teach

our present world some sense

for they lived in a harsh land

with invasion ever present

taking in the refugees

who had their lives distressed

a small picture of ourselves

are we to vanish thus

and give to future generations

nothing of our sense of worth

or will those yet born

look back at our lives now

and laugh at how we arranged

our cities and our towns

Supreme Authority - by Bob Atkinson

Supreme Authority

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Monarch

the group retained all powers

for decisions rendered thus

feelings of desire openly

relegated to the bunch

supreme authority diminished

as the English lived among

those here in the New World

where advanced societies had sprung

Old World subjugation normal

for many eons had

these newly arrived strangers

given power to royal men

so when this situation festered

and drinks dumped in the bay

a combination culture

developed "freedom" as a saying

and threw out openly

with muskets and with knives

that culture of supremacy

that nobody had desired

holding close that document

kept to themselves something of a say

in ways of government

what we do and where we stay

in this New World order

sophistication reigned

as all who could speak

spoke their minds again

about their feelings and desires

about course to set for them

honor, duty and discretion

held firm in every man

then when all the civilized

had been chased out or abandoned

power crept back slowly

to the center of the land

peoples' say carried no weight

in minds of those who knew best

"social order demanded"

decisions by authority to rest

this simple combination

of need and execution

distorted all advancement

and our government perverted

so to those who have the power

and seek more for their own needs

my pleading begs you have restraint

don't take us backwards please

The Wrong Decision - by Bob Atkinson

The Wrong Decision

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

many times have heard

that statement so absurd

that someone challenged thusly

made the wrong decision muchly
or, bad choices crusty

about drugs, violence or such

those demons that forever stalk us

to drive us way beyond

a question of right or wrong

have pondered on this situation

more an observation than direction taken

must say in disordered fashion

my mind sees no abstraction

simple phrases don't absolve

one of responsible function's call

we're in this all together

let's work to make it better

might be the natural thing

to wander and to dream

go against the grain of life

doing one's "own thing" with pride

well, this begins the obstacle

to peace, love and honored dignity

as one takes more, no charter

than really should be garnered

restraint need be the word

on everybody's tongue

"...sir, if you would go first,

I'd be satisfied to follow..."

humility reserved

for those who treasure life's morality

giving, getting more than wealth

peace, goodwill, through an enlarged self

March to Eternity - by Bob Atkinson

March to Eternity

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

cadence

we marched well in formation

down a road to soldiers' hell

down that darkest corridor of death

to the end we knew full well

as soldiers we would die today

we'd kill our fellow man

so as to impart our desires

for peace through all green lands

cadence of the sergeant

primed and packed for grief

gave us pride in the ability

of this infantry company

we knew wasn't that way always

plans sometimes fouled up big

attacks could become snafued as

our colonel, he couldn't think

about feelings in the minds

of our so called enemy

how they believed in their cause

same thoughts as Joe and me

that did not matter to our hearts

we had the power good

to blow the bloody enemy

to small pieces as we should

cadence told broad tales of conquest

of our military unique

how we wandered over battle fields

in real and in our dreams

and now, in this darkest moment

our pride would carry through

all our fears of dying in this land

  never challenged

would certainly come to truth

Landfill Ore - by Bob Atkinson

Landfill Ore

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Landfill

the gold rush caused a bidding war

for resources contained in Landfill Ore

mining waste of big cities' trash

moving us onward to propriety at last

more aluminum than bauxite ore

more iron than the ocean floor

more biomass than in a forest

more gas, for power of well tamed horses

we threw away our discarded junk

tossed out old wood walls and such

buried treasure in piles of muck

not understanding what we had done

burning chaff better used

to replenish soils, longtime abused

feed those hardwood trees restored

growing food, greening fruited groves

history wild and wicked saw

wasted capital, burned out halls

as new and better made plans

resolved identified challenges grand

new cities built for ages use

not with goals of land abuse

building respected, destruction not accepted

objectives identified and directed

purpose, to us, the simple man

morphs into prosperity of ages landed

laid out in our hands as gifts

ambition does provide useful tricks

no money gives such wealth abundant

determination assigns to our wonderment

a soul of meaning, which before was none

settles us upon our fastest run

to objectively change our planet's dream

giving us immunity to thunder, not flooded streams

flowing ideas of great benefit to all

beginning at last our brighter dawn

cities not touching soil contaminated

movement of people with smiles and love

mission restored to everyone

if born with gold spoon, or on the run

give me purpose and I'll be strong

give me reason, plus right and wrong

find those souls who hurt their brothers

send them back to ask their mothers

how did I remove from myself

from that purpose, the only wealth

of living so essential to survival

good that blocks out evil power

The Muscle Called The - by Bob Atkinson

The Muscle Called The

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Human Brain

the muscle called bicep

pulls hands up to my face

to wipe sleep from my cheeks

and wake me for another day

the night spent listening quietly

to soft raindrops on a roof

left me thoughts, ideas, so new

of which I've got a use

as water dripped onto the ground

sending moisture to the grass

it spread out so as to feed

all those plants and animals

muscle called brain

inside my covered crown

drained words out through my arm

out my pen's ink cartridge spout

laying words down so dis-jarred

some good, some bad, some there

to feed my need for emotional tags

to tell the world I care

upon the paper buckled they flowed

on drips of coffee and stains of food

which contains my thoughts penned down

outside my body's inner mood

that muscle called the heart

feels need for gentleness

on this morning of such potential

for faith, good deeds and progress

Ship of Mind - by Bob Atkinson

Ship of Mind

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Tramp Steamer

I see her in the harbor

a proud and lovely ship

suspended on the water

like an eagle's floating trick

she sails the open waters

over wave and large sea swells

foam drawn like an arrow

sea by her bow impaled

her engineer moves his wrench

she makes steam to drive propeller

captain's on her deck in uniform

has donned hat with gilded metal

she has those lines of beauty

her panels by rivets held

was before technique of welders

that she was finely built

she stops along the smallest towns

with harbors not so deep

and gives to them her cargo

of cigars and fine dried meats

days are spent on decks of wood

looking at the sea so soft

finding her beauty lifts my soul

beyond that farthest thought

she carries my imagination

well past those distant shores

to fill my mind with memories

of people between bad wars

she lives the life for which she

was created by man's skill

a beauty in her younger days

has my mind so fully thrilled

Interpretation - by Bob Atkinson

Interpretation
(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

 Leonardo da Vinci self portrait

Interpretation

shallowness prevails

when simple words describe

all the forces in our lives

all of the reasons why

we do as we do

we feel as we feel

describing complex attitudes

requires composite ideals

our process of thoughtful

deliberation, explanation

lie to us when we utilize

even astute observation

they do not, will not, cannot

describe all forces we endure

when adapting to environment

such as reacting to this earth

so if someone tells you

they know all there is to know

ask them if their senses

allowed this information flow

I only know the questions

do not know them well at all

so how the heck can I enjoy

knowing all there is to tell?

The Art of Social Organization - by Bob Atkinson

The Art of

Social Organization

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Social Organization

we can build in systematic fashion

our desires, hopes, our satisfaction

unified body of laws shaped fairly

among our people leveled squarely

military conquest not a factor

our land's enormous, it us can handle

resources provided for our care

lumber, minerals and breathable air

self government's pride expanded

some tossed out as underhanded

tally those who work in earnest

eject the most dishonest persons

acceptance broadly given to

those whose customs we barely use

let freedom ring with broad loud tones

as long as goodwill becomes the norm

external goals to broaden wealth

we climb a ladder of progressed health

for sloth of user's not much tolerance

all who can produce, produce our commerce

cities built of prideful stones

directed construction toward safety devoted

stratification of allowances made not

for felons, pushers and lawless garbage

no, have not the blueprints here

those skills not held within my care

have one purpose delineated to

gather consensus for activity's usage

I see us fail, to this point

to find a rational gathering slogan

let the statement on which we agree

be one of:

"our country,

me for you,

and you for me"

Genius for Organization via Art - by Bob Atkinson

Genius for Organization

via Art

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Art and Upheaval

appreciation over that which gives

a future's utility, mentally pictured

devoting much to artistic endeavors

useful in gaining popular acceptance

acceptance required for alignment

thoughts and efforts verified by wit

understanding feelings of opposition

so progress may advance with quickness

art satisfies broad needs aplenty

salting taffy, like sweetened candy

expanding what to many feel as

representing nothing, as nothing's free

art itself conjures cataloged solutions

to practical problems, otherwise elusive

setting tones of formulated evolution

which then become involved and useful

so, when you gaze on ornate buildings

frescoes, sculptures, watered fountains

think not of the effort that made them

but how they allowed the building's erection

Flying Farther Than The Wind - by Bob Atkinson

Flying Farther
Than The Wind

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Mountain

soar to heavens in a cloud

faster than my mind allows

tripping on what's down below

all those people going nowhere

tearing over mountain passes

down to valleys broad with grasses

farmer signals with his hat to say

my destination's that-a-way

landing on a port of gold

sensing light where none before

eyes open from a sleepy dream
no grasp of shadowed doors

smell of coffee freezes theme
grabs attention and desire
to arise with arms reaching out
to a world without quagmires

 paradox of notions
of those who agitate
and say we're wrong directioned
then kill us for their faith

 
 

Despondency - by Bob Atkinson

Despondency

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Despondency

courage and hope leaves one cold

feelings dive deep within to hold

grabbing toward some finite goal

absolutes wandering around one's soul

stems not from outside your body
inside blossoms like prickled cacti

those burdens one feels of uselessness
broadly mired sad dreams expressed

mushes brain waves, shooting pain

tearing into your ideals of brightness
ending all hope of ever recovering
seeing nothing but misery's troubles

expect bad feelings multiplied

senses set to irrational guidance

sadness stays within one's heart

do your best, world stays dark

 
National Institute of Mental Health

what to do when a burden of mind

carries dark curtains, hope falls behind

how to cope with these wild perceptions

do we truly lack all meaning, direction?

sit back and relax, you'll do alright

just takes time to readjust to light

no supposition's permanent, you'll see

strength's inside for coping freely

our world's dynamic, changes fast

nothing permanent, nothing lasts

good times, bad times, bad results

all convert themselves to opposites

let compassion flow into your desires

recharge skills you've always shown
   hold judgment, that which makes you sad
let not feelings crush your attitude

waiting for sadness to subside

as if watching  morning's beach tides
allows that sinking feeling so harsh
to dissipate toward unseen darkness 

National Institute of Mental Health

ebb and flow of your soul's hub
seized by thoughts hard and despondent
releases grip in time, you'll see joy again
pain lessened by morning's sweetest rain

relax and see your troubles through 
goals you made as a child aren't new
have patience with the world not perfect
help someone else who's hurting
 
all will work out

always does

Success - by Bob Atkinson

Success

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Goal

pitching in, we feel sometimes

our efforts cannot grapple well

with what seems stone wall hard

our tortured form of hell

keeping us away from subsequent

progress toward that lofty goal
travel through an uncharted maze
can sometimes stop us cold

desire defines success within

our memories we closely cherish
some will, some won't stay satisfied
without a distinct determined course

a hill climbed to the top, or not
depends upon our energy reserves

to reach for goals inclusive

within that which makes us certain

a goal so far out of our reach

can define with truest blessing

why we're meant to struggle hard

without pure second guessing

those fierce winds in our face

where opposition makes a stand

sometimes blow power into our sails

as motivation for our plans

achievement, not a given thing

that stated mission simply sets

us on our path of progress

to maybe get there, maybe crash

success is but a fleeting thing

won't mean much for long

our lives have meaning only

while we search for what's beyond

Wobble - by Bob Atkinson

Wobble

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Toy Top

oscillate my mind does

from reality to fear

free from interpretation

no categories established here

craft supposes skills of time

manner same as all before

prodding intellect astute

no remorse, pure laissez-fare

rules of order hereby ignored

in the name of progress good

talent seeking servitude of

the great and powerful wizard

how this situation shakes

beyond these final days

surrender to the unthinkable

or rise up to be enraged

do not know the answer to

this question never asked

just trust no harm's been done permanently

to our ideals which were thus trashed