Monthly Archives: December 2014

The Milk Man

The Milk Man
481 The milk man is a humble gent.
He barely speaks a sound.
He wakes up early every morn
to do his milky rounds.
485 He’s not a business man like some.
He knows no politics.
He picks up empty bottle crates;
each one can carry six.
One dawn the man was running late,
490 the sun was peaking out.
He had two homes left on his list
to finish his long route.
When he approached the final house
he picked up empty jars,
495 replacing them with sweet white milk
and turning toward his cart.
But as he was about to leave
he heard a sudden click.
The door flew wide, a girl inside
500 coughed lightly on her fist.
When she was sure she had his ear
she spoke this compliment:
“Thank you for your kind services,
your milk’s always so fresh!”
505 The milk man heard her gratitude
but shied away at thanks.
“Oh Miss, I just deliver milk
in its completed state.
Some other men do all the work.
510 They milk and pasteurize,
then cleaners clean and bottlers cap
and bosses supervise.”
The girl responded with nice words:
“You’re more than that, you know.
515 Come back tomorrow at this time,
I promise you a show…”
The milk man blankly stared at her,
then turned around and left.
He couldn’t help but wonder at
520 whatever she had meant.
The next day he began his route.
He walked through quiet dusk.
Despite the young girl’s prophecy,
the man would not grow fussed.
525 And then the last house did appear.
All seemed as well it should.
He picked up crates and dropped off milk,
his job complete and good.
But once again the portal creaked!
530 Girl ushered milk man in.
The room contained the neighborhood –
his clients, and all grinned.
Miss Jacobs showed her prize bleu cheese.
The baker shared his cakes.
535 And yogurts, milk shakes, crème brûlée
were all placed on display.
“You’re milk man, cheese man, cake man too,”
the girl spoke gladly thus,
“What you deliver every day
540 contributes to so much.”


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The Prisoner

The Prisoner
421 A prisoner arrived one day
at Coffee County jail.
The verdict was for ten to life
without parole or bail.
425 The first few months were difficult.
His cell mates often raged.
The confines of his tiny space
made him regret his cage.
“There’s no escape,” that’s what they say,
430 “These walls will suffocate.
Constricted, breathless you will be.
Your life is confiscate.”
Well, time went by, and life grew grim,
then prisoner decides
435 he won’t be trapped by these gray walls
until the day he dies.
He steals a spoon from the canteen.
At night he slowly digs.
He scratches holes just barely deep.
440 Each never gets too big.
He started on the far left wall,
which juxtaposed outside,
then switched his target to the back,
which softer rock comprised.
445 Some years go by; the walls expand
a little at a time.
The guards don’t notice anything;
they only see hard lime.
Expanding cells have ill effects,
450 the prisoner soon knew.
The noise was greater from the back.
The left was cold as blue.
But he kept digging up those walls.
He never missed an inch.
455 The cell grew wider every day,
but thirst was never quenched.
“I want more room so I can stretch!
I want to run ten miles!
This cell cannot contain my needs,
460 nor to what I aspire.”
And then one day he dug too deep,
for light escaped a crack.
He braced himself, and then he gave
that thin rock wall a whack.
465 A hole stood wide, no going back,
the guards would see his deed.
He stepped outside the wall divide
and breathed in flowering trees.
His world was now so limitless.
470 His walls were broken down.
No one could tell him what to do.
Give prisoner a crown!
But then a bang and sudden pain…
A bullet pierced his back.
475 The world was spinning quickly now.
His life was fleeing fast.
The prisoner had pushed his bounds,
he’d bettered his poor fare.
But walls protect; he’d never learned
480 it’s dangerous out there.


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The Astronaut

The Astronaut
361 An astronaut goes for a walk
outside among the stars.
His trusty craft beneath his feet
has taken him quite far.
365 The sailor of the stars steps up,
and gravity takes pull.
What feels an inch becomes a yard;
brief flight elates his sole.
He climbs up to the viewing deck,
370 slow motion takes a while,
and at his goal he looks around
and cannot help but smile.
For ever since he was quite young
the moon was more than bright.
375 It was a place to touch and feel,
to study in the night.
He followed rules, excelled at math,
his shape remained pristine.
One afternoon then NASA called
380 and offered him his dream.
And so he stands surrounded by
quite frankly everything.
He looks out left at Mars’ bright red,
now right at Saturn’s rings.
385 The wonders that the sailor’s seen
can barely be described.
The brightness of a newborn star
looks magical this high.
The darkness of the universe
390 still makes him hold his breath.
Abyss had never seemed so black
until he trod its depths.
And even in his special suit
the cold pervades his veins,
395 but ice can’t numb his boyish awe.
He feels so young again.
There far below is planet Earth
whose continents conceal
a hundred hundred thousand men
400 whose tiny lives are real.
His job is truly wondrous.
It cannot be explained.
Some things need be experienced
to fully comprehend.
405 The astronaut proceeds back now.
The airlock guards his path.
He floats down to his office space
and documents a graph.
His toothpaste meal will have to do.
410 It’s roast beef, peas, and bread.
Then after he enjoys a book
he’ll float on up to bed.
Before he sleeps, he always looks
at photos of his wife
415 and little girl, who’s just turned three:
his newborn star – so bright!
And as he sails the universe
above Earth’s bluish dome,
the astronaut lies wondering:
420 how far away is home?


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