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Courage Narrative Poems | Narrative Poems About Courage

These Courage Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Courage. These are the best examples of Courage Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Narrative | |

Where are you Fred Astaire

A man with impeccable charm, sophistication and grace,
Fred Astaire was at once both marvelous and enchanting
As the twentieth century’s greatest dancer and master artist.
He made his sublime dancing (“hoofing”) seem effortless.

Capturing the American spirit with both panache and verve
Fred Astaire glided across some quite wonderful movie sets:
Top Hat (1935), Swing Time (1936), Shall We Dance (1937)
Done magnificently—all harken back to a different America.

This America tho’ more old fashioned was one of “can-do”
And boasted a gutsy bravado even in times great hardship.
Fred Astaire with others was a sturdy star symbol of the then
Greatest Generation that helped bring peace to a war torn world.

Fred Astaire was part of this Greatest Generation entertaining
Packed audiences and dazzling them with steps of joy and perfection.
Tho’ now gone Astaire’s past accomplishments serve as a prologue
For new generations to come and to seize opportunities for greatness.

Where are you Fred Astaire?
		

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(September 2, 2014)


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Night Angel

They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
The man.
The child.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
The terror
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Agonizing
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A passer-by.
A doer of good deeds.
He stops.
He sees.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
Bravely
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
He runs.
He hides.
The passer-by,
Believing he saved
A child
From a long, cold walk,
In reality
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.


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Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


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WHO I AM

What if
you
woke up
one
morning
and
discovered
you are
not
who you
thought
you were,
having
suddenly
learned
that your
whole life
from
birth,
the person
you
believed
yourself
to be
is not
who you
really
were meant
to be.

And
at that
moment
you
come to
realize
that you
have been
your
entire life
been
following
the
wrong path
not knowing
what is
the
right path.

Yet
for some
unexplained
reason
you become
aware
there is
a right path
and that
somehow
you have
been
predestined
to find
and
follow it,
knowing
only that
it will
lead you
to discover
who you
really are
and were
meant
to be.

Do
you
know
what
you
would
do?

Really!!!

What
would
you
do?


© Eugene Harvey


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The People Around Me

Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.

Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.

My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered. 

In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised, 
But it is to be called someone, 
Who can be respected.

To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.


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The Shoe

He could be someone’s father
Or brother
Or friend.
He could be
The one to cure cancer,
The one who
Saves a child
From a burning building,
The one who
Sobers up
And leads
Others to
Do so as well.
But right now,
He’s a drunk
Who has probably
Spent all of his money
On booze,
The one
Who is ungrateful,
The one who
Won’t remember,
The one who will
Lose his life
Over a fallen shoe.
And you are the one
Who can save him.


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Crazy

My friends and I had midnight hide and seek
One had to stand by a tree and not peek
In my state of hiding great I was hard to find
My friends decided to just be unkind
They all got together and decided to hunt me down
I first hid in the river near my house and almost drown
When they walk close by me I silently move through the grass
It was very hard to see, but I crawled a long time and almost ran out of gas
Then I heard one say that they were going up and wait by the tree
I had an idea that made a way to make them see
A shadow that ran in the distance thinking that would be
I had my horse pull a little manikin to make them think it was me
My friends took their flashlight and shined it toward it
I thought I had them but one thing was clear they did not fall for it not a bit
They all laugh and started to call out my name
They all asked how the heck did you have time to pull that trick that was so lame
I did not answer so they kept on looking for me, but I was so quick 
Some of my friends started to get really mad and tick
I was a master of doing weird things they all knew what I can do
The night was still young and the grass was collecting dew
I decided to make a distraction once again
To think of it, it would probably make the night end
My friends finally surrounded my tree house
I was quiet, so quiet, more than a mouse
I had some rope in the tree house to make my escape
To distract them I made a loud noise like an ape
The tree that my tree house was in was at least forty feet up
I had some stash in my tree house a drink or two in a cup
My final hour is about to end I did not want my friends to catch me till I got to the tree
I took the rope and tide it on a branch and pushed off and that was the key
I landed on the garage roof and sneaked my way to the tree
My friends knew me to well that they plan things before I could see
They had a fish net ready for me to step into
I thought that was kinda wise and some what like pew
The few feet by the tree there was two of my friends that was ready
Up in the tree they both jumped down and pulled me up in the net fast and steady
They thought they had won, the person had to tag me before I touch tree
She ended up having to get something to stand on to reach me
I swung my weight back and forth till I ended up touching and the game ended
My friends and I were so full of surprises and that is what the game handed


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The day they fell

The day they fell


He stands before the great woods
Arms stretched, bracing the storm of machines
They roar and bark, trying to break his wall
But he stays put, Save the Forests he screams

The tress stand tall, lush and green
Seedlings sprout, Flowers bloom
Animals frolic in their wonderland 
Is the forest really meeting it's doom?

He stands before the great woods
Protecting everything it confides
Many plants and animals are within
Away from the human eye they hide

Even if you have never seen them
Just take a step inside
The feeling of life the smell of grass
Do u really want them all to die?

The machines don't care 
Around the forest they continue to surround 
They have never seen the wind 
And never heard the sounds 
 
They never felt the wind against their faces
Never heard the rustling of leaves
Never seen the life in the forest
Never understood that it brings relief

Fire shoots up as the forest screams 
Roars and crackles follow too
Animals run, plants sink to the floor 
As the machine consumes the forests full

The trees spend decades growing up
The animals spend years moving in
But it only takes seconds to burn it down
To burn the forest into the size of a pin

What has the forest done he wonders 
As He stands in front of the orange blaze
To deserve this kind of torturous pain
With Heat and sorrow right in his face


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A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.


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We Are There With You

You do not stand alone in your Battle
Your battle is our Battle
We may not be there in body
But we are there with you in Spirit

We are there in every beat of your Heart
In every whisper of the wind
In every thought and every touch
Every breath and every sound
We are there with you

You are wrapped in an Endless chain of Love
In every link we each send you a part of us
We send you some of our Strength
Some of our will to Fight
Some of our Courage
The most important of them all
We send you all of our Love

If you feel you need more
Just give that Endless chain a little tug
And we'll be there
Tug til you need us no more
Then we'll know you've gone Home
 


______________________________________________________________________
5/09/2014 Dedicated to my Aunt Nini, Wilma Thomas Gamble for Mother's Day. Sadly she lost her Battle w/ Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer on 5/30/2014.


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The Ego Monster

The ego monster came one day and settled near a vulnerable soul
Begot intended alteration, to turn Diamond, into coal
This soul it hurt from melancholy, a lost and lonely, sobbing mess
Perceived, drastic solutions, might remedy their grief and stress.
It whispered false suggestions, that soul needed none and was alone
And tricked the soul with toxic trust, then set it on a paper throne

The soul required more conformation of how unique. they lusted be
Then faked a mirror of illusion of everything they wished to see.
The ego monster taught soul words like biggest, toughest, richest, best
Offered soul a moral compass, that turned north to south and east to west.
Injected soul with huge desires to gain more power than they deserved
Convinced soul that their path was straight, though it was warped and curved.

One day whilst strolling round the past, desiring to re-visit there
Soul glanced into another them, a them, which laughed without a care
Then felt cold shards, cut cold shut eyes, saw emptiness within desire
And wondered why their heart was numb, when once there had been fire

They set upon an expedition to fix the damage to their soul
Compass in hand they trod the journey back, to fill the empty hole
The road was not as they remembered, signs there, did not belong
The compass pointed south, not north their compass must be wrong?

So blindly they retraced their steps to victories that they’d thought they’d won
Victories that they soon regretted, when they saw the damage they had done
The flimsy paper throne collapsed, as shame weighed heavy upon heart
At last they stood there, mortal, towing tons of wrongs upon their kart.

With open eyes and open mind they turned and faced their foe
Reluctant to face truths and lies, which lay within that ego
They battled insecurity, fought doubts and vanity
Till somewhere hid between it all they hacked up sanity

The harshest lessons learned are those that burn our souls repeatedly
A fool is only foolish when repeating their stupidity
Torturing ourselves for life about mistakes we now regret.
De-valuates the wisdom learned from wrongs we can’t forget
The ego monster searches for the anxious and defenseless
It’s swallowed, viewed, it’s said and heard, it’s touched, its smelt It's senseless
It’s thought about too often, confused with supremacy
But wisdom, strength and courage live in souls who’ve learned humility.
































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Urge To Smile

Urge To Smile
By Nate Spears


The morning sun rises
My flesh is set back 
Due to my body needing 
Much needed rest
I wonder 
Does anyone else feel 
the urge to smile?
I know right now 
I'm feeling sour


A grin attached to my face
That lights up the sky
Behind my clouds of joy 
There lies a lie
With everyone wondering how?
How can he smile
with so much going on
Rapidly by the hour
People losing their homes


Some can barely feed their kids
The government is gone
They rather spend our money 
On billion dollar drones
Never the less
We're blessed
We're here to see another day
Being healthy and relevant
Gives me strength
To soar into a new day
With unlimited fight 
Packed up under my wings


Another day 
Another chance
For tomorrow 
Thanks in advance
As long as I'm living
I can better my condition 
It's mandatory to smile
A privilege to be living.


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Heartbeat

They ran laughing
Into the night.
Hand in hand.
Heart in heart.

Twenty-One, and Nineteen.
Forging new pathways,
Skirting danger,
Laughing at the wind.

It took only 
A second,
A heartbeat,
For the driver
To mow them down.

It took only
A second,
A lifetime
For love realized
to be lost.

But years before
He stood next to his father
Who said the choice is yours.

And the proud young man
Checked the box
And signed his name

Not knowing
That the heart
He gave the girl
Would not be
His to give.

Seven hours
Of waiting,
Praying,
Hoping.

Seven hours
Of holding breaths
And hands,
And the heart
Began to beat

Again.


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Don't Leave Me

I can't imagine being alive without you
I can't imagine what it will be like when your gone
I don't know what I'll become without you
Maybe I'll just run
Run away from everything and leave everyone behind
Maybe I'll find a way to be close to you
Because I won't believe you died 
My heart will ache so much more 
Tears will always run
My eyes will hold the wisdom 
That you bestowed upon me young
And my recklessness will be noticeable
People will wonder why
Why am I running when the person I needed most died
How can I face my life when I can't do anything right
I won't believe you have gone away
When God decides to take you
I'll still come by your house and always expect an answer
I Love You Gamma
You Taught Me About My Heritage  
Please Remember Me When God Takes You
Please Guide Me In the Right Way


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My Hidden Fear

People are my weakness and hidden fear
I just feel that some words they say set me in tear
For example I gave a person a smile one day and they gave me a glare
I did not know that smiling in the world today cause people to stare
These types of stare gave me chills down my spine a feeling that made me blind
Why? why is my weakness the people who are very unkind
Hiding is all I can do when people give me a unkind view
I get to a point that my fear seems to wonder and stew
People are who they are and what should I even do
I don't understand that they are evil and some times nice too
My hidden fear are people just because they are always around
That is no argument and my feeling are perfectly sound
The hate builds up in my mind, but does not bother, how my heart feel
I learned to undergo a change that my feelings become like steel
Hard as it should be in situations needed I forget how to use it
So it becomes my weapon and it is to some people heartless just a bit
My hidden fear is what I see in people today
They harm others and they think it is okay
That is why I fear my feelings for others at times because it is so confusing
My hidden fear is some what bad and some what a blessing


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Indefinite Love

I saw a young lady who was so perfect that she made my heart beat
I could not figure it out and now I really don't know I had to take a seat
She smiled like an angel in the heavens with glorious blinding teeth
She seems so kind and full of life and never put people beneath
I do not have a bad thought or a moment without any ease
I notice that because she pulled me up and smiled with a tease
She kept things close to her like my hand and my heart
She knew that I was just the man that gave her a good start
I never had a thought of leaving because of a fight
I will never part with her because she is my sight
She looks forward at all times and never looks back
She knows how I am if some one would hurt her I would attack
I will never leave her side with out her knowing she is safe and sound
I am the man of her dreams I will never let her down hard on any ground
She loves me with all her heart and I know this because she gives me the look
She knew how long I waited for her to notice me, I remember it was long time it took
I waited by her side when she was ill and could not walk 
I held her hand and made her smile when I told her I love her, when I talk
She noticed it in my voice the feelings with care
She never looked at me in a blank stare


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When

It was only supposed to last a little while. 
The pain I suffered was temporary. 
You promised you would fix it. 
Oh and fix me you did.

I hate you for what I have become.
Tired. Lazy unable to work. 
You created this monster of pain
Inside my head. 
It never goes away.

But you were the lucky soul. 
Your death was quick and painless.
Leaving behind those who mourn.
But I am not one of them. 
I wish you all that you deserve.

I have something now that I cannot change.
This damage to nerves, and numbness and pain.
My life has become a struggle. 
I compete with pain each day.
Sometimes I lose. Occasionally I win

It never leaves this pain you made. 
I wonder how many more.
You destroyed like me.
So powerful being a surgeon. 
To hold someone's life in your hands.

sickness, depression, anger


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The unexpected


The man in the dark mask turns his head 
To face the crowd with evil eyes,
The crowd cry out with screams of dread
But he carries on amidst their cries

As he emits a booming laugh,
Which seems to echo, through the night,
He carries on his reign of wrath,
And slaughters everyone in sight
 
But one small, frail, child
Decides the masked man will be beat
And runs though crowds with bodies piled
And kneels down at the masked mans feet

The rogue looks down with chilling eyes
Upon the small child on the floor
And as he wields his knife to strike
Lets out a sudden painful roar
 
Beneath his legs the child had crawled
And stabbed his spine with one small knife
And when the brutal man did fall
His throat was slit to end his life.


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In memory of Bob

In memory of Bob
A true story.

It was in spring of two thousand when I first saw Bob. I’d just started working at Perth Dental hospital, and in fact it was my first day there. I walked up to the front door of this building, but it wasn’t yet opened. So I turned around and went to sit in the bus shelter which was just outside the building. As I went to sit down I noted a dark skinned gentleman sitting there with a happy, benign look on his face. He was about five feet eight give or take a little, and he was rather a thickset man who looked like he’d done his fair share of hard work in his sixty years or more.

     There was something about this Gentleman that I could not quite put my finger on. He had a certain charisma about him; not the phony kind of charisma that one seen in the car salesman or the philanderer who messes with women’s heads, no, Bob had a kind of friendly smile for everyone that he met, and he seemed to draw people into him with his love, and gigantic heart. I knew as soon as I met him that Bob was most definitely for me.

      As Bob looked at me and smiled, the whole world seemed to open up. He said “Ow ya  going mate” in a loud ebullient manner, then we started to chat. Bob was like myself, a thinker, and straight away we started philosophizing about this, that, and the other, and it was like we had known each other forever. Then all of a sudden I found Bob talking about death, and the difference in the way the Maori people faced death, compared to the rather the silly way us white folk look at the subject with great fear in our hearts. Now this had always interested me, and  somehow it just seemed natural to talk to this Maori gentlemen on this subject, and we spoke about it till the doors opened and it was time to work.

      I don’t think anything happens just by chance, and I definitely have this feeling that Bob and I were meant to meet, and I really think this was a major destiny thing. I have found during the course of my life,  that as I am aging, I can feel something pushing me into a certain direction, and I always felt that Bob was part of all this; and I had much to learn from him. Although I have never believed in organized religion, and never followed one I have always felt deeply spiritual, and I have met many people who I learned from, and Bob was most definitely one of them with all his great wisdom and patience. As I came to know Bob, we had many dialogues together, on many subjects. Bob used to love music and could always have time to plonk away on his guitar. He used to come round to my place and we would play songs together, though both he and I were no Eric Clapton’s, I would bang around on my guitar and play the harp, while we would both take out turns at singing. We’d have a smoke or a beer or two, and we’d play songs all day long,  ahhh, I remember those days well, the memories are so strong.

     Bob was one hell of a man, I could tell that he had been a wild one in his youth,
But when I knew him in his sixties he was an icon of wisdom and virtue; he had a kind word for everyone, and gave all his time to anybody who needed him, always.
He used to hear me waffling on like an idiot, trying to make him like me [as I always did] but never once did he tell me how foolish I was, he would just smile knowingly at me. He used to stand there at the window for hours, just drinking in the trees, or the clouds in the sky, and yet he was so aware, I used to try to sneak up on him; it couldn’t be done. His awareness was incredible.

     Then one day Bob fell ill with terminal cancer, and he knew that he had very little time left on this Earth. He lay there sick for days in intolerable pain,  but you never heard one complaint from him, even when he only had days to live, he was still worrying about the welfare of others. When the day finally come for Bob to leave his shell; he was lying there in deep sleep, when all of a sudden he woke up, with a smile on his face. His children asked him ‘Dad, do you want some pain killers” Bob laughed, compassion written all over his face, and he said to them ‘Not one of you has a clue, have you’ and he died with a big smile on his face.

   His daughter got in touch with me, and told me about his death, and also told me that his last wish was to have me watch his soul leave his body. I felt very honored about this and went and sat with his body [as Maoris do]. I got the most peaceful feeling come to me [which I presume was his spirit leaving his body] as I watched his silent body, a Mari war stick and a beautiful rose lay across his chest. I still see it, and I feel blessed by it. He was my Maori warrior, and I adored the man.
 


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Atop that hill, in his heart

Lying atop a hill, he gazes into the sky. The world spins around, minutes passing by. 
The grass is dry but green, the lack of water has not yet started to slow its flourish. Time will bring that. He lies motionless. Arms at his side. Legs slightly spread. The wind blows softly. Gently. Brushing his cheeks with gentle fingers. Reminding him of an easier time. A touch so soft it's presence remains a question. It's existence remains a teasing stroke. Grey rain clouds folding into the light white clouds in such a way this man has not noticed. He continues on, unmoving. The first drop of rain must come as a surprise as it falls and lands atop his cheek, running down to meet with the grass. He doesn't flinch. He still doesn't blink. The next drop falls, and the next, followed by its sister waters. Soaking his face. He goes on unnerved. Perhaps this is a comfort. It allows his tears a place to run unseen. Without judgment. Providing a hidden release to a man who has not known the word in past. He hears nothing, senses no one. But she's there. Kneeling down, pressing herself into his arms. Not speaking. Just accepting him for who he is and what he's experienced. She also ignores the rain, the wind and the clouds. She runs her finger down his jaw line, down his neck, across his collar bone and rests it on his heart. It is there she settles in.


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Waves of Change

Waves of Change Changes in life descriptionalized In comparison to waves of the ocean Our bodies are made mostly of water A body of water with flowing emotions Now an ocean will flow peacefully Until there is a bit of turbulence Disrupting from a smooth flow With the up and down currents As we walk onto a new path A different kind of feeling steps in New ventures can be scary in thought Of what is left behind when we begin An air of difference can bring on a spin To a funnel effect as does a water spout Sometimes when in the spin motion cycle We are shaded by clouds and cannot see out When actually caught within the spin We do not see the change is there Our sense of direction is lost We become totally unaware If you are the one caught Within that fast paced spin You will not be able to see The shape you are really in That’s the time we need someone To give us a tap on the shoulder It’s not a matter of who knows more Or which one of the other is older You’ll need a friend like Dory was Saying to just keep swimming the sea To never give up your hopes and dreams As changes in life really just happen to be Florence McMillian (Flo)


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My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


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Blackmail In Utopia

Two faithful souls stand listless in the great big tower 
overlooking the stranded city that once stood tall
yearning for a quiet place to lay their heads 
while far beyond the deserted land 
a soft blue light gleams gracefully above tranquil skies,
dancing shadows rocking to midnight tunes, 
and sweet melodies echoing from the gigantic moon. 

She spans more than a thousand feet long soaking
up the exhausted  earth, her immeasurable depths
cuts and carve through  valleys and streams 
with clear blue water and powdery white sand 
what more could you ask for on that distant land. 
They have been planning this trip for many years,
but when the time draws near their saving  disappears. 

An empty refrigerator with two trays of frozen ice
lean against the corner  of the kitchen
in their ten bedroom mansion
and a bare pantry exposing a slice of mildew bread 
filled with little mice nibbling  and  playing tug of war.

Not many people knew their story
they have been broke for twenty years 
but lived a painful  lie, cutting corners 
making back door transaction, 
eating lamb and turkey from profits
made from sordid deals. 

Their empire that once stood tall hangs in dismay 
While it watches the world going up in flame
by those who continue to play treacherous games.
 
Sobibor and Hiroshima horrors of the past
Should have cleared the way for a more sophisticated path
But now athoroughfare mixed with complexity 
packed with insidiousness 
have ducks walking around 
quacking without wings or tails

They finally got an offer to go to Utopia.
with packed  bags not a  penny in their name, 
they set off for Utopia hoping to find a new life again
but when they got their it was the same old begrimed game. 

Their entire world has been shaken, 
shaken by its own guilt and self-reproach, 
the transgression that their ancestors have borne
have been handed down for generations to shoulder
 
A land that they believe was pure and holy
has turned into nightmare and horror
dreadful things dismount in dark corners
women raped strangers abused
yet religion forms the core of the throne

They have witnessed empires toppled, 
Kingdoms have fallen in their sight
Rulers have shaken and wept bitterly 
causing the great big god to balance the scale
but blackmail in Utopia remains a formidable  game

                                                            ©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Narrative | |

My Story Telling Who is this Princes

The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking

Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died

As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard 
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know 
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence

Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt

My Story Telling  Together In A Strange World


Details | Narrative | |

Reminiscence

Prologue:
For whoever think story telling is that easy,
Would properly from this hilarious incident,
scene or whatever you might call it, would know is not.

                             *****************

Just some couple of months ago, I was invited
by a friend who knows me too well, back then in 
school as a funny guy and story teller and so he taught this
night, that his grand pa (who is a famous story teller 
of his village) had fall sick, I would be in a better position
to cover up for his father's so called responsibility
to his people. "For he (my friend's father, Williams) is a good story teller.
But what about me who has never faced 
the ample crowd with my 'cripple' tale unless sharing it with friends?" I mumbled.

In the middle of this enigma, my friend, John called me to the hot seat
to tell my tale to the unbearable crowd of adolescence. 

"God why am I here this day... But it shouldn't have been this day" I retorted.
The barbarian noise from the seats infront of me showed that truly I was 
in the middle of something and not lost...

"Uncle tell us a story!... Brother tell us a story!" the crowd shouted.

This day, I needed a free moment but they couldn't let me be.
"Once upon a time" they heard me said and they all resited.
" I am sorry, I am sorry let me restart it all over again".

Now in old man's voice, I told my tale before them:

"Once upon a time,
In our mothers' womb, when she
Ate, we ate. Goodnight!"

They all cannot but burst to laughter while I stood and walked to the room with my 
shame.
                                   
                                *****************

Anything after good night means nothing more till the next day.
Maybe I escaped the night by dissatisfying the emotions of those children,
in that scene, what about my friend? 
"Have I not brought shame to John's family? Did I do the 
right thing that full moon night?". My heart beats!

                               *****************

Epilogue:
Not even do the audience remember or care to ask me: (In kid's voice)
"What if my mother do not eat while in my pregnancy, what will happen to her?" or 
probably care to tell me: (Back to old man's voice) "What lesson they have derived from 
the tale before their departure... Oh! No sorry, my bashful departure from their sight." 

Note: The tale: "Once upon....Goodnight!" is a Haiku form of poetry.