Excerpt for Stress Busting Poetry by Gary Haymes, available in its entirety at Smashwords

Stress-Breaking Poetry

By

Gary Haymes


Smashwords Edition


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Published By

Gary Haymes on Smashwords


Stress-Breaking Poetry

Copyright © 2010 by Gary Haymes


All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status a trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.


Smashwords Edition License Notes:


This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.


Gary Edward Haymes

897 Grandview Road

Fort Erie, Ontario, L2A4V6

1-905-871-7037

E-mail: haymesegary@yahoo.ca


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Stress-Breaking Poetry


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What is good Poetry?


Poetry is a composition of verse with words that are arranged in a variety of shapes and forms. Poetry is that portion of literature which expresses imagination a feelings most intensely.

Poetry is a rhythmical creation of beauty in lyrics which stirs our imagination. A poem can be an elevated expression, a vision or insight of majestic thoughts a feelings.

A poet must communicate a personal revelation by using dreamlike words so that they arouse the reader's imagination. The power of words fused into poetry is often magical beyond definition or reason, like loveliness it is an intuitive experience.

Often poems are written only for entertainment and amusement. But some poems have a way of being painted memorably into every heart, causing the population to unite, resulting in altering the history of the world. Voltaire, the French satirist a philosopher created: "A fight to survive" type of poetry that ignited the French Revolution. When the Monarch of France finally capitulated in 1799, Voltaire's skeleton was retrieved from the grave and placed on the King's throne. If one reader is moved by only one single verse of a poem, then the poet's efforts were never in vain. These anthologies of poems are segregated in the following seven categories:


#1- Poem That Tell a Story:


The Dwarf Who Hated Christmas


Con Man or Saint


The Pagans


He Was Loved By All


#2 Family Poems:


Someday, I think I shall have a Daughter


Someday, I think I shall have a Son


Someday, I think I must find me a Wife


Life is now


Do You Remember When?


Life's Short Season


My Memory


I Am That Man


A Letter to My Son, Gregory


#3 Erotic a Love Poems:


The Temptation


My Feelings of Love


Go Naked In the Sun


#4 - Fight to Survive Poems:


Fighting Failure


Strive For Survival - Fight One More Round


Never Give Up Your Ship


The Failure


Deception


Waiting for a Break


While There Is Still Time


Swallow Your Hurt


#5 Poems That Make a Declaration for Change:


The Most Danger You Were Ever In


The Drinker


The Excuseaholic


Excursion into Madness


We Are All Citizens of a Small World


There Will Come a Time


Wild Dreams and Schemes


The Resentment


Tomorrow Shall Be My Day


A Proclamation for Freedom


Confusion


#6 -Poems to Help One Feel Happy


Cheer Up - Laugh and Smile Really Live Great, Smile For Awhile!


God Loves a Dreamer


Let Life Be Your Teacher


#7 Poems - "Poetic Justice"


The Demon Ship


*****


#1 - Poems That Tell a Story


The Dwarf Who Hated Christmas

A long time has now passed since that day my brilliant, grand idea struck,

It was a week before Christmas, when Sid a dwarf told me of his bad luck.

"I must admit that I really do hate Christmas Eve with all my soul,

I have no family or friends, so I stay in my room, lonely and cold.”

This short fellow's sad plight suddenly made my heart want to care,

My families Christmas Eve dinner, I immediately asked Sid to come and share.

Readily, the little fellow accepted, as a beaming smile brightening his face,

Then I got the bigger idea! "Let's invite a lot of other people, let's fill up the place!"

"I heard of a poor crippled lady, she'll be alone," The midget quickly replied.

"Sid! Find her; tell here she must come on Christmas Eve. I'll provide the car ride."

Soon my short friend had found people on the street and invited quite a crew,

Adding even more: three sad divorcees, five handicaps and two blind folks too.

I thought informing my wife of my Christmas Eve guests would bring great delight,

However, my lady was far from pleased; in fact she started a horrendous fight.

"You expect me to cook for eleven down and out, strangers? And our family too?

You must be nuts! Phone them all up and tell your new friends I got the flu.

How in the world could you plan all this, before even consulting with me,

Imagine! Inviting a bunch of loony birds, for our precious children to see!"

Six months ago, we had moved to this small northern Canadian town,

It certainly didn't take long for the news of my grand plan to get around.

"It is a fine thing you are doing, young man," George the friendly grocer said,

"Three of my best turkeys are on me; we want to be certain your guests are well fed."

My four year old daughter and six year old son were quick to join up on my side,

They watched as I hastily built a ramp, so up the front stairs a wheelchair could ride.

"Are you sure Santa will come?" My daughter, Debbie asked with concern,

"Of course, Santa will come," I replied, before remembering how little I earned.

After work, my wife informed me, that in town I had stirred up quite a mess,

So each night, I said a silent prayer, praying a hoping for the best.

At last! The night before Christmas with tons of falling white snow, finally arrived,

The wife helped me prepare, but wondered aloud: "How will we ever survive?"

The donated turkeys were cooked and a bowl of spiced punch was made ready,

I was sampling the potent brew, hoping to keep my jumpy nerves calm and steady.

At seven in the evening, the doorbell rang: Soon one by one, our guests came,

First the blind, then the divorcees; Harry the poor man who was lame.

Welcoming each heartily, I escorted them down to the den and a chair,

Once everyone started drinking the punch, gaiety and laughter filled the air.

At eight-thirty, we began wondering why Sid the dwarf was still not there.

"Perhaps, he is just late, he seemed so eager to attend. Or maybe he even forgot?"

I liked the man, and right now, I was beginning to miss his attendance an awful lot.

Ten minutes later, the front door swung wide open, did we all got quite a rise,

Entering the house making quite a noise walked in a short Santa; what a surprise!

A jolly St. Nicholas strode into our midst, grinning, and smoking a pipe;

Sid shook each of our hands, filling the room with surprise and true delight.

Our little Santa's long, white beard hung down over his waist,

Sid apologized to each of us for being so late, but said he had been in haste.

Santa's lateness he said was due to a reason, which he would explain later he said,

Over his shoulder; Sid carried a bulging bag that was huge and red.

Conversation flowed while everyone drunk a Christmas Toast of cherry,

Christmas carols were sung making our thoughts and conversation light and merry.

A feast of a Christmas Eve dinner was then served; we all ate like kings,

Afterwards, Santa opened the red bag: "Look here, I have got a few things."

The bag up to the top with beautifully wrapped presents which Sid dispensed to all,

"This is why I was late, friends. Some merchants gave me a phone call.

The businessmen wanted to provide presents for our party to-night,

“Two gifts for each one of us, those guy really knows how to do it right!"

Watching my little boy a girl open their presents gave everyone a thrill,

Seeing what their gifts were I was relieved, I would never have to pay the bill.

Up until midnight, the guests and my family played games and the fun didn't stop,

Then suddenly, Harry the lame fellow glanced up from his wheel chair at the clock.

"I am so cheerful; I think I'll stand up a go out for a run a round,"

Harry tried to stand up but he dropped to the floor, laughing like a clown.

Sally, a divorcee helped Harry up, she was taking a liking to the blind man, Sam,

"How about a date," Sally asked, "I think your intelligence is very grand."

Sid pulled off the Santa suit, the man really was in need of a rest,

He had played a terrific St. Nick, now he had to catch his breath.

The enchanting evening closed with hand shakes, hugs and kisses,

Once the guests had left, my wife whispered: "Come on, let's clean the dishes."

After this chore was done, and our two kids were tucked into their beds,

"My dear, that was a fantastic party," My wife cheerfully said.

This Christmas Eve party happened many years ago,

We had to move back to the city, but those unusual guests, my family still know.

The moral of this Christmas Eve story is simply this:

When you really want to try something different - take a risk.


*****


Con Man or Saint

The preacher had a handsome, shiny face; His tons of guts were rewarded in mega bucks,

His source of power was an unseen God, a television show, and a lot of luck.

With endless over powering bravado, the preacher peddled the Jesus, Christian faith,

"Mail me a fifty dollar bill each and your reservation in heaven I guarantee is safe."

It always amazed his brain how huge piles of money in the mail always came flowing in;

He noticed the amount collected always was doubled when he mentioned the devil or sin.

The folks adored him; the preacher could never do anything considered to be wrong,

The guy's sermons were fabulous, and each prayer meeting closed with a lively song.

His performances on television were on everywhere; His flock of dedicated donors grew;

The man was marvelous; He had a direct pipe line to God, Jesus, Mary and Moses too.

Soon the preacher's power enlarged his ambition beyond anyone's fantastic dream,

"I will become the President of the United States," He proclaimed was his noble scheme.

The preacher's huge hope, and with his heart felt desire took an unexpected dive,

All the tabloids reported that the great preacher man was a womanizer; Man Sakes Alive!

Prostitutes, booze and quantities of drugs were the preacher’s compulsive, dirty thrill.

The preacher disowned the horrible sins, before admitting guilty to the proven shill.

His duplicity really upset the legions of loyal, captive believing, Christian followers,

Nevertheless, the faithful quickly forgave him, and mailed in more soul saving dollars.

The preacher altered his future sermons; He acknowledged sin to God was now all right,

"Sin brings one to God's repentance, and tests all of us with the devil's terrible might."

Nobody was surprised when the preacher was elected the President of the United States;

A pious amen was prayed by all in attendance, after each speech the President ever made.

Then for no cause, the President declared war on China; stating:" God made me do it!"

Atomic bombs were released, sending nuclear missiles zooming from hidden pits.

Millions of innocents died, while the President was isolated in private prayer.

So this acclaimed preacher man of God really destroyed most of the small, planet earth.

Big bombs ended it all. But mankind no longer had to endure the Anti-Christ's mirth.


*****


The Pagans


A violent breed has stained and scarred our minds;

with ghastly horrors and atrocious crimes.

Dimly memorable are the pagans, mere men but history labels them as beasts in future times.


Dominating paganism quickly created glorious victories wreathed in horrible crimes;


Multitudes of these neatly, uniformed pagan gladiators have gone to their graves,


Their bones are molting to dust and on their flesh a very healthy worm craved.

But what has become of their blackened souls, their supreme ambitions, their ungodly creeds?

Loud, ugly terrorist voices of hate surround the globe to-day; to what hidden chamber do they lead?

No mighty roaring cannons with blasting pistols are consuming our earth to ashes and flames;


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