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Introspection Tribute Poems | Introspection Poems About Tribute

These Introspection Tribute poems are examples of Introspection poems about Tribute. These are the best examples of Introspection Tribute poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Mirror Ball

I'm sure this hill is where it stood.
Amazing shapes of stuccoed wood.
A glass-brick, neon stream-lined place.
As if it flew from outer space,

A swing band auditorium,
An Art Deco emporium,
When romance, innocent in pace,
From dancing to a teasing chase.

The town grew west in modern haste
And down it came, without a trace.
The war and culture's change in taste,
Predestined doom, the past erased.

The future sighs, with solemn face
The wrecking ball, the glittered waste
No plaque to read "Historic Sight".
The swirling dust, a dance goodnight.


Gene Bourne
08-01-14








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Details | Elegy | |

Mombasa

Strange shadows on these coral walls
stay hidden from the setting sun, 
yet creeping through the shafts of amber light
drag behind them to the high parapet
a cloak of utter darkness.

Fierce defended, now are none:
no frightened men to urge the heavy cannon round
no shrill alarm or battle cries;
the end of this, as every other day has sealed
a silence now complete.

Once we held here, on this foreign shore, 
the fortress of our childhood dreams
and all the world’s assaults
seemed nothing then;
an ocean  breeze would cool the hurt of falling
and bring sweet scents to pick us up again.

Across the bay the dhows set sail upon a rising tide
their canvass spread against the purple sky.
We watched their leaving long ago
but you are gone away now, gone to  sleep
and no injured soul so left alone
can wait to watch them home again.

Yet I will stand, a little or a while, 
and  will not fear cold shadows rising 
nor while breathing yield the fort to them;
in every breach I meet your laughing eyes
and feel the warming of remembered suns.


Details | Rhyme | |

Crackling Hearts an Onomatopoeia Poem

Crackling Hearts

Swoosh, whoosh a salty sea soars,
splish-splash colossal waves a roar.
Drip-drop, a leaky faucet spent,
trickle, streaming tears repent.

Pounding heart sore, you adore,
beating, loving pumps no more.
Thump of regret, of love in debt,
thrashing together you forget.

Fluttering beats on retreat,
sloshing a scent so very sweet.
Shattering bond, broken beyond,
a bellowing future now so fond.

Grimacing glares, hatred a flares,
spawning an odium of stares.
Soured smiles, trekking every mile,
whispering woes all the while.

Crackling hearts, burned apart,
smoldering pain from the start.
Hissing highs, kissing goodbye,
a burning love affair denied.

*An Onomatopoeia Poem people, but no place to choose that category! Thanks for taking the time to view my work, my fellow poet and poetess friends!


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Elegy | |

ELEGY TO LOST CHILD

                                        Elegy to Child Lost


                                 Passion's love oft tempts despair
                                 Casts a prideful cosmic dare--
                                 Like Prizing Joy's most intimate caress
                                 Babe snug beneath a mother's breast

                                Senses at this time are keen
                                There's no secret kept between
                                Loving mother, wriggling babe--
                                Wanted , dreamed of, much delayed
                                But entwined twin was also loved--
                                Some say Nature's method proves
                                That one twin may give all to mate---
                                But this fatal sacrifice must decimate.

                                Only mother's eyes would feel babe's smiles--
                                or sense those legs that wandered miles
                                And daring feet that danced in tunes while
                                Arms swam in gentle Celtic croons.

                                When babe vanished--not  a sound.
                                Mother 's grief was not allowed.
                                Tempted so to trail behind
                                Escaping shattered troubled mind. 

                                Squelching sorrow's hungry arms
                                She Tried erase babe's fluttering charms
                                Never spoke of-- never mourned.
                                By her husband she was warned
                                Was best forget a child so early lost--
                                Funerals, gravestones--such a cost--

                                But the years have called babe near,
                                Mother's journal writ in tears:
                                'Please forgive my selfish heart.
                                Repressed from all --this tragic part
                                I felt your sacrificial act--
                                You left your cherished twin intact'.

                                There is no law of random acts
                                Doctors examine data facts
                                It may be --that in the womb
                                When both spring flowers cannot bloom
                                One bold twin refrains to eat
                                Compels the other to complete
                                Hardy growth that life requires---
                                Sparks survival's crucial hours.

                                Not an accident 'tis sure--
                                Boldest spirits blossom pure.


Victoria Anderson-Throop ©


Details | Shape | |

Shoe Fetish

                                                              My Fetish. I adore you.
                                                            Wedges.             Pumps.
                                                          Stilettoes.             Brown.
                                                        Baby Blue.              Black.
                                                      Red. Pink are            all so
                                                    beautiful. You             make me
                                                  feel like a lady.             Nikes.
                                                Timberlands. A               pair of
                                             killer boots. Match             with a 
                                           fedora or a fresh to             death
                                         leather coat. Uggs,               Steven
                                       DSW, oh my how I am            grateful
                                      for you. Loafers. Buckles.         Straps.
                                   Peek a boo toes. Strapbacks.       ON SALE.
                                Played dress up with my mom's      and the
                             love affair began. Leopard. Bows.       Fashion.
                          Class. With leggings. Jeans. Skirts.        Suits.
                       Bikini underwear with a special Boo.         Bags
                    the same color, high heels assists with        what
                 some say is my sex appeal. Pretty details       draw
            attention from all ages and genders. A little         girl's
       obssession grown into a woman. Closet packed         sparkling
  eyes, legs dancing, carrying me into the next life           lesson.
I give you tribute and pay homage to you. I love              you shoes.


Details | Free verse | |

LOVE

Loyalty
One self
Virtuous
Eternity


Details | Rhyme | |

Let's Praise the Lord

Let’s praise the Lord!
All you people of the land!
Let’s praise him with every
Instrument we have on hand!

Let’s shout praises to his
wonderful name!
A message of rejoicing,
we need to proclaim!

Let’s come before him,
with love from our hearts!
This is where a victorious
life really starts!

Let’s bring him our thanks
and appreciation!
And sing of his tender mercy
and wondrous salvation!

Let’s bring him a heart filled
With hope and cheer!
The coming of the lord,
is so very near!

We bless the father, the spirit
and son!
Through the blood of Jesus,
we have overcome!


By Jim Pemberton


Details | Verse | |

Home of the Slaves

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change

People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.

People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names

The list could go on  
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou, 
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew

George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise

Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, 
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle, 
But obviously greatness can be done.

We can rise above this stigma 
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void 
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned 
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine


Details | Free verse | |

The Storm

And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain 
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body 
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions 
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence 
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth 
I stand among the reeds in the basin 
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back 
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away 
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground 
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own 
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home


Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Acrostic | |

Jesus

Judas betrayed Jesus’s whereabouts
End, was near
Son of God, knew this
Universe of the Son of the Divine Father, restored
Sins of man forgiven, Prince of our Universal domain, alive in the hearts of his children


Details | Rhyme | |

The Little Girl with Pigtails

She’s the little girl with pigtails,
who sits quietly at her desk.
Whose eyes lift to meet no one,
whose clothing is always a mess.

He’s the little boy on the playground,
whose strays alone without a friend.
Whose countless cuts and bruises,
are too deep for those to mend.

She’s the little girl in the lunch line,
who stares at classmates having fun.
Her mouth never forms a smile,
her long sleeves cover what’s been done.

He’s the little boy, who lashes out in anger,
as his classmates stop and stare,
in wonder at the skeptical, of a little boy
who seldom had a word to share.

She’s the little girl who recites excuses,
for every injury her tiny body may bear.
A rehearsed story told so perfectly,
no one notices the blankness within her stare.

He’s the little boy who startles so easily,
and jumps at the loudest sound.
A little boy covered in shades of blue,
inflicted by an abuser his fate is bound. 

She’s the little girl with pigtails,
she sits alone, without a friend to tend,
a black tinted heart of abusiveness,
hidden injuries never to mend.

They were the little boy and girl in the classroom,
who sat quietly alone, concealing the crime,
of living a life-time at the hands of an abuser,
who raised their hands of abuse one last time.


Details | Acrostic | |

Easter

Earths people, it is time to wake up, the ‘Prince’ is alive! 
Ascension available, access through your heart 
Seek and you shall find! 
Time is short, personally unite, connect as one
Eternity given
Rise to the occasion, celebrate the gift of life, bond, with ‘our lord Jesus’ and ‘our Universal Father in heaven, building a bridge, experiencing kinship, between human and spirit

                     ***Happy Easter Everyone***


Details | Ballade | |

The archer of laughter Sagittarius

The Archer of laughter
[Sagittarius]

He needs to know; not trivia
But all those deeper things
Needs a higher education
He wants his life to bring
All the answers big and vast
He wants to travel too
Cause he has heaps of energy
He loves to do things new.

He cannot handle boredom
He must be on the go
If not in the physical
Then he will have to know
Everything about anything
He’s a philosopher, this too
He loves to have his high ideals
And he’ll always say what’s true.

But most of all he loves to laugh
To him life be a game
He doesn’t do traditional
And he don’t like things the same
He can be over bearing
But you’ll like him anyway
Though he will really pee you off
When he has too much to say.

1 August 2013 @ 0727hrs.


Details | Narrative | |

SOLDIERS NIGHTMARE contest waking up from a nightmare

                         VIETNAM VET SOLDIER'S NIGHTMARE

Another dream –
I could not wake –
Escape from what would follow--
Grasping for a secret word, the letters stark and hollow--
I was trapped entangled there,
Just beyond the reach
Of men that could release me
Or a hill that could be breached

Gunfire was a backdrop 
Soft and pungent was its sound
Fell on me like raindrops--strangely harmless on the ground

Smoky gray encased me like a piece of sleeping net
Tunnel faces hidden —easy killing, no regret-- 
Felt terror and the aching for the friends around me cold
Standup guys with stalwart hearts--just did what they were told

Then my cell phone beeped a beep---
A message had come in ....
Now awake I saw your name---
My new day would begin.


Victoria Anderson-Throop
November 25, 2012
waking from a nightmare contest


Details | I do not know? | |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.


Details | List | |

The Airing of Green

mint a green thumb the green-eyed monster as sure as God’s green apples they gave my plan a green light green around the gills a green back jade teal village green golf course - putting green the hanging of Christmas greens a sergeant wears his dress greens why does brass turn green? turnip greens lime moss green bananas greenhorns are naive greenware has not yet been fired what is the greenhouse effect? he lost his green card greengrocers pine


Details | Free verse | |

THE FULL MOON BLOOMS

Tonight, the full moon blooms
And foils the looming gloom.
The remnant doom from noon
Has lost it's bullish tune.
And embraces dusk's eerie cool.


The village square it illuminates
Arena of moonlight tales of late
The little ones gather and wait
While the elderly engage in debates
And the goats noisily ruminates


The bright night, lights sparks
Of bliss and joy in trees' barks
The tall iroko whistle in parks
Where young lovers end their tracks
And skimpy skirts lose their tacks
 
 
The son of perdition frets unsure
The thief in the night fears exposure
The pirate sailor steers from ashore
The night fisherman denied action
For the kind light bathes the ocean


Tonight, the full moon beams proud
As the town crier makes his round
Belting forth a piercing sound.
While the town's chorus echoes loud
The stage is set for the yearning crowd


Details | I do not know? | |

Tomorrow is Ours



Tomorrow is Ours.


Suffocating beneath the weight of historical fear,
asphyxiated by the legacy of traumatised yesteryear,

the festering wounds of enslavement still remain,
juggling euphemisms in a crisp sound-bitten refrain,

spewing out neo-liberal economic charades,
doling out charity in strips of plastic band-aids,

but,

tomorrow shall be ours,

casting away subservient mind-sets that shackle,
no longer the weakened prey of the insatiable jackal,

tomorrow shall be ours,

we shall reclaim our plundered mindspaces,
we shall shed our chains, leaving behind the traces,

of past injustice, of the hurt and pain of our ancestors' sorrows,

we are here, now, alive with hope,


we shall rightfully claim our own tomorrows.





Details | Free verse | |

Blantantly Obvious Subliminal Messages

Fate or coincidence as if we have a choice constantly at odd with those who share a difference in their voice as if we could change the world so pretentious for us to concieve as if only a single soul still in me would believe Fake or conciousness a notion to betrothed as if you betterment was for me to love and loathe everything in place the explanation was there was a grand design for that or just a repetition of certain circumstances and leave no chance to reason Break the code or break the mode broken cycles, growing old fading voices go being unknown but my choice is mine alone take the hand of a higher power or take a thermo nuclear shower submit or be done with tossed out like the waste just a tiny hint of power leaves a certain taste corruption is only almost certain free will still relates to the points so poignant they are pinpointed mistakes not yet made Premeditated, so there goes destiny as if a higher power has the power to contain me as if a higher consious is out there for me to have thats the only certainty I know almost for sure why I push back the unknown is out there driving all so called life for you so call everything must come easy for you like butter to the knife and you wonder why your drowning and cannot break the surface look deep inside your mirror into the fate you may be worthless, coincidentally


Details | Free verse | |

Life Can Be Cruel

I cannot get into heaven
God I have tried!
Suicide is a double edge sword
Especially when you survive!
Walking the streets at night
Dazed and confused
Longing to be loved
Wondering...
When is Mum, coming for me?

"Does she still love me?"
"Does she still care?"
"Does she still think of me?"
"Does she wonder, where I am?"

I want her to come find me
I want her to say she 'loves me’
I want her to comfort me
I want her to take me home
And keep me safe
And not forget hat I exist
Like the way she treats me now

I wish God 
Could make my Mum
Magically appear
Making this hellish nightmare
On the street
Disappear!

“Send my Mum please!”
So, all this can end!
Before this last ray of hope
Diminishes for good!

I don’t want to become
The walking dead
Forever forgotten as if 
I was never born!
For this is the cruel, harsh reality
Of living life, feeling unloved
Uncared for, abandoned,
Left to fend for my own

A dangerous killer inside me
Eating away, at my soul
Something, no one can see
As I suffer in silence
My insides crippling!

Lost, alone and frightened
Weeping on a dirty
Graffiti park bench
Dirty tears
Rolling down my cheeks
Stuffing newspapers under my jumper
To keep myself warm

“What am I going to do?”

“Will I make it through the night?”
“Will I get raped and beaten?”
"Will I be left for dead?”
“Will I survive
To see another day?

“Is my life worth living?”

Please God, I beg of you
Have mercy now
Please show me the way!


Details | Ballad | |

Goats

Goats

They’re everywhere
These pretty little creatures
On the serpent road to Exmouth
They be some of the features
Along with Emus, Kangaroos
And handsome birds of prey
These little goats be bountiful
They’re all along the way.

They be domestic goats 
Who’ve gone back to the wilds
Where they have bred one million fold.
As one moves along the miles
These little goats be seen so much
In their many shades and hues
Don’t know where they got their water
It be tough country too.

The weather here be hot and dry
As the sun bakes everything
And mostly here no rain does fall
To drinking water bring.
And yet these goats look healthy as
Such nimble little beasts
You’d see some dead there in the road
As the crows do have their feast.

That be the price of progress
That poor beasts have to die
That be the curse of human beings
Sometimes it makes me cry
Yet still they be so plentiful
These handsome little guys
Another little part of nature
That make love in me rise.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.








Details | Ballad | |

Termite country

Termite Country

We’re heading north to Exmouth,
Carnarvon we’ve just passed.
We be driving up a serpent road,
As the country seems so vast.
It’s hot outside, but in this van,
The air cons on and all,
As all along the road we pass,
Little goats, so beautiful….

And everywhere, most endlessly,
There’s a billion termite mounds.
Like baked brown little mountains,
They’re everywhere around.
We stopped near one, I marveled,
That a tiny beast, and blind!
Could build these blessed monuments,
It nearly blew my mind.

I took me then some photographs
Of these engineering feats,
As I let the awe and wonder,
Into my dull mind seep.
In such a vast, still country,
In the silence of the way,
Those mounds stood out so powerful,
In the heat of a sunburned day.

2003


Details | Light Poetry | |

The cotton club

He wipes the tables clean
Picks up the dirty wears
Take out the garbage
Stock the fridge with beers

Cleans the bath room
And mops the floors
Sweep outside on the sidewalks
 Before he the doors

Sounds like a lot of work
But he enjoys it everyday
It’s the cotton club
With great jazz music every day

In this boarded up building
On 142nd street and Lenox Avenue
In the central of Harlem
His dreams has come true

In a sense it was segregated
 White folks patron the establishment
And the black performers
The will provide the entertainment

And he heard the best musicians
The likes of Duke Ellington, cab Callaway
Nat king Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, count Basie
Josephine baker, mea west, Billie holiday

Some of the great performers he seen
Many comes from all over everyday
The cotton club is renowned worldwide
It’s where the best black musicians play

He thinks he is truly bless
And in his heart it’s what he felt
For just a poor Harlem boy
The music is the soul of his wealth

He remember it like yesterday
But it was 5o years ago
As he passes by the cotton club
He can still hear the music inside the door

He sits in the park watching his grandkids
As they play in a yellow plastic sub
And his mind wonders back as a kid
In the Harlem cotton club

 


Details | Free verse | |

Gift Of Mortality

An earthly existence
A universe beyond my minds, comprehension
I die
I rise
Life lessons reviewed
Homeward bound
I am not lost, after all!
I am a willing participant
Serving, the Father, of all creation
His son combined, ‘producing life’ as we know it
Representing them, in everything I do
I am nothing, without Love!
My heart full of faith, loyal service I give
Learning how to unconditionally serve, as the Father unconditionally, loves me
Worshipping our Divine Creator’s existence
Choosing to live, moment to moment
Being as one with ‘Our Universal Father’
No physical permanency
My physicality, disappearing
My mortality existence, I let go of
Death temporary
My spirit alive!
Relief, Peace
‘I am only passing through!’
A unique, experience of mortality 
A gift, I am blessed to experience, to live!


Details | Rhyme | |

If You Were

If you were a penny, I’d keep you in my front pocket every day.
I’d shine and cleanse you daily, washing all troubles and woes away.
If you were a diamond ring, on my finger is where you’d stay.
I’d shine the stone feverishly, parting all frets and worries astray.

If you were a novel, I’d place you at the very front of the shelf,
I’d tear out the pages of misery, and swallow the depression myself.
If you were as free as a butterfly, I’d cup you within my hands.
I’d whisper all my secrets, then release you from all commands.

If you were a painting, I’d pose you directly over so all could see,
I’d dust away the tears and guilt, inhaling the particles inside of me.
If you were a bronze statue, I would polish you until you shined.
I’d scour away the torment, and any melancholy I should find.

If you were a flower, I’d pluck the petals of bane from your life,
I’d water and feed you frequently, nourishing the roots of strife.
If you were an eagle, I’d admire your rare beauty from above,
I’d watch you slowly soar into the horizon, taking with you,
my heart, my soul and love.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Box of Hope and Dreams

I keep my dreams and aspirations,
stored away neatly in this box.
Tied off with a pretty pink ribbon,
secured tightly with key and lock.

And every time I feel like a failure,
I open it, so I can again feel alive.
Arms of dreams tightly surround me,
giving me strength I need to survive.

I’ve hidden this box in a secret place,
where I’m the only who can see.
A beautiful box of hopes and dreams,
finely sewn with love at the seams.

This box is opened quite frequently,
especially when we’re apart –
this rhetorical box of memories,
in perfect synch with each beat of my heart


Details | Lyric | |

For the Dying Orphan

I let you die for my name As you reached for my hands Out of waters of drowning What a hypocrite this writer is The Hatred of Solitude Letting an orphan dream Then destroy him with knowledge Of what you have done He opened up to you In new ways But in nostalgic guises The springwinds whisper blithe yore But the winterwinds, much stronger Caress you with the dreams of your funeral sky “It was you… it was your fault… Letting the one who was so open to you Be the laugh… the piece in the game…”


Details | Carpe Diem | |

To Jack

My friend, you will be in my heart forever/
you proved to be a great man and this is not simple in this blue rounded ship headed to nowhere,
so my friend,  cosmic dust we may mean to the whole universe
but a whole universe we mean to our loved ones.
Your hands helped to shape our souls, bringing artistic comfort to our suffered eyes.
Life would be just impossible without art so thank you, thank you.
Your hands  protected your gates,
they also sailed different seas where I bet you cried.
Your hands called your dogs and they smiled.
The other day I read the sun may die in four or five billion years so what is the purpose of life ? Art and moments perhaps.
That we will not know so easy but rest in piece and assured that your hands will never be forgotten !
Carpe diem.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Letter to bereaved ones

         I beg your forgiveness for I am not long for this world. Happenstance has led me down this path so crooked and forlorn. Misery has preceded my path and darkened my senses all but torn. Mistakes have illuminated my way though their light be a fallacy; an illusion to comfort a tortured mind, riddled with confusion and false fancy. ‘Tis only just to forgive me sisters, I am not long for this world. 

          An image wreaks havoc with my memory. A picture so horrendous the effects of its trauma echo through the hallways of time. The sight that for all my life I was so grateful to possess, leads me now to curse what gods may be that granted it me. For surely had I never seen the sight of him, cold and lifeless, I would have eventually endeavoured to be healed in my spirit. The fault is mine; it was never him but I that had the capacity to change. ‘Tis only right to forgive me father, I am not long for this world. 

       My middle name should rather have been disappointment. That is all I have ever delivered to her who brought me into the world and nurtured an infant into a lady. I call her Gaia, that is her spirit name.  My existence has put lines on her face prematurely and caused her to despair time and time again. The audacity of me now to leave this earth without ever having produced for her a grandchild. The insolence of leaving only words to counter the preponderance of condolences from rejoicing enemies that shall now assail and abuse her. My soul is repentant, twas never the intent to hurt your heart dear Gaia. ; Tis only compassionate to forgive me mother, I am not long for this world. 

       As for the empty future that awaits me. No children to carry on the memory of me. No great achievements to render my life the content of legend. No great works to immortalise me in poem and prose. No others to mourn the passing of a life most unremarkable. Nothing but things, regrettable decisions, words left unsaid and the cold sound of silence to mark that most auspicious event. Death finds me waiting and unafraid with only the last words to pass from these lips; ‘tis only fair to forgive me self, for we are not long for this world.


Details | Free verse | |

How Selfishness, The Self Did Betray

How faithfully I gave you priority 
I even built you a Queenly home
As the centerpiece of my Life.

How reverent I was to your desires
I even built you a sacred temple
Where like a star your interests shone, 
As I looked at you; 
Bowed - with glittering eyes.

How every thought I would dedicate to you
Reserving you a special table -
In the Galla where Life's events are held

I even made a status-bearing label
And hung it on your thronely chair.
It simply read 'Honorary Human', 
But around it I inhaled its majestic air

Oh How I did my best to serve you; 
Oh how I always served you first.
How eagerly I took your orders
How promptly I'd respond.
But oh how I failed you self
How I served you 
But did not serve you well.

Self serving was my great expense; 
My intention was to give to you.
Yet nothing was all I bought
For selfishness is worth naught. 


Details | Acrostic | |

TRIBUTE --- WINNER ACROSTIC to Harry Horsman

     TRIBUTE TO AN EMPASSIONED READER  to Harry Horsman

                               WINNER ACROSTIC

         When I write the challenge is to shake your mind

         If i succeed there is a satisfaction in my style

         Never mind if  flashy glory's left behind

         Not a moments wasted if a phrase has found your smile

         Eventually there's a tiny spark of me that you may find

         Relentless words are bound to entangle and beguile



Victoria Anderson-Throop 2013


Details | Rhyme | |

The American Soldier

We are all the colors a Patriot depicts,
the red’s the blues and whites a mix.
We honor the soldier’s creed till death,
protecting our nation with every breath.

Quitting is not an option you’ll see,
for a soldier’s pride and honor succeeds.
A soldier’s mission will always come first,
hungering for freedom with a thriving thirst.

The American Soldier, our warrior of choice,
will serve their people will a victorious voice.
They are comrades in arms, till the very end,
no one left behind, fellow man they’ll tend.

The American Soldier doesn’t accept defeat,
heroically they’ll fight, in the cold and the heat.
They are the guardians of freedom we forget,
the American Soldier does not identify regret.

Our way of life is because of their strength,
for decades they’ve served at every length.
The American Solder conveys honor and pride;
for fallen soldiers, many tears they have cried.

Honor our troops, for freedom is not free –
it’s the American Soldier whose provided liberty.
Take a moment to praise the dedication and pride,
of the American Soldier that never dies…….


Details | Rhyme | |

The Bourgeois and the Spinning Wheel

In a room filled with a solitary red hue
The bourgeois spins a wheel
With no destination, nor need
She will spin until her brittle Hands bleed
Just to satisfy her ennui and artifice
But she does not see - the rien I see
The monster approaching her empty dreams

Spinning still - she does not know
The insomniac rose will begin to grow
The thorn of clandestine and ebony
Ostracized for he began to realize
What lies in nonsense is decadence
Which sparks interest
Who's lover is a dadaist
But his story is over now
As Seth lead the way
A poet dies in dismay

The thorn as she spun penetrated
A distraction and a lack of action
She knew the temptation for she so loved the sensation
Of crass, rebellious - ways 
The thought laid it's seed
In her Gaulish mind it breeds
She has no other need and no regrets
So she proceeds and the smile lets
With full intention and desire
Caring none of her fate that will transpire 
She presses her finger on the thorn 
So now she bleeds knowingly
she did not recede


Details | Rhyme | |

Christ Stepped Down From His Heavenly Throne

Christ Stepped Down From His Heavenly Throne! Christ stepped down, from his heavenly throne. He came to earth… For 33 years, he called it his home! His mission had one purpose and desire in mind! He was to one day, be a sacrifice for mankind! He taught and gave us his words, powerfully spoken! He knew that one day, his body would be broken! He desired that all, would one day, come to know him! Because of his resurrection, all can receive him! He’s alive today! And reigns from heaven above! And desires to touch us, with his endless love! Won’t you humbly come, and accept what he’s given? And experience the power, of being forgiven! This can be your moment! This can be YOUR day! He loves you much more, than words can say! All honor and praise, to Christ Jesus, our king! You are our righteousness! Our everything! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

Just A Little Talk With Jesus

Just A Little Talk With Jesus… Why not talk to Jesus? And spend some time alone? Won’t you ask him to be the Lord of your heart and home? Just a little talk with Jesus can make your day so bright. He can heal your troubles and make everything “alright!” Just a few moments with him can make all of the difference! His love can give you hope and a joyous experience! Feel free to share with him your every need and concern! Won’t you allow him to guide you at life’s every turn? Won’t you allow his cleansing power to take your sins away? He can make you a new person! And can do it TODAY! The time you can spend with him, is time you won’t regret! HE will never fail you! And hasn’t let go of anyone yet! Just a little talk with Jesus will bring sweetness to your soul! The words of Christ can completely make you whole! Please remember a promise from the beginning of time. When God created the world... He had all of us in mind! Spending time with Jesus will be the best thing you did! Won’t you accept his love and willingness to forgive? Just think about the opportunity with Christ you can share! You can have time with him! And can meet him anywhere! Behold the glory of our Lord! He reigns from heaven above! You can enjoy his presence! And the power of HIS LOVE! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

When I Die

Don't weep for the loss
I've merely swept across
Know that I am here
Always will I be near
In the way you walk
And the way you talk
Thru your words of strife
To guide you thru this life
In your beautiful stare
All the elements in the air
Running thru your veins
And whatever shall remain
Presenting thru your smile
And every lonesome mile
With every beat of your heart
You'll feel we're not apart
With every warming breeze
And the swaying of the trees
Thru your precious laughter
And every moment thereafter
In those mesmerizing eyes
Your mother is still alive
In each and every thought
Enacting what I've taught
Thru the precious moments
And every single torment
Thru every scent you intake
And each and every mistake
Your mother has not died
In your hearts where I reside


Details | Epigram | |

TIME ANEW

TIME ANEW
(When we celebrate the coming of the New Year, we have to keep in mind...)  

Time,
My best friend,
My worst enemy,
To my child you gave birth and 
My parents you took away,

Happiness is your gift
Suffering is your doing
You took the bride to church and
To cemetery you led the widow  

Love with you it grew in me
So did her sister, hate
To spirit you brought ecstasy and
To the heart abhorrence  

Success came with you
Failure likewise
You made me proud to feel and
Also to feel ashamed
BUT
Each time you come ANEW
Jubilantly I celebrate
For unconditionally I LOVE YOU 
Because I am your CHILD! 

©Demetrios Trifiatis
  01 January 2013


Details | Free verse | |

Tears of My Heart

if poop could be named anything what would you name it?  id name it bob and id make him sit on a log in a bog and say get out of here you hog that looks like fog from a bog thats near a log with bob sitting on it who attacked the wacking wackers with all his heart and shattered, he fell to the floor.  dont name your poop bob because then youll have tears in your heart.


Details | Rhyme | |

An Unforgiven Tune

Scanting, ranting, seething persona provides –
the confinement and hatred inside you hide.
Screaming, steaming, aggressive overtones –
provide a key witness of a relationship unknown.

Shivering, quivering, the innocent will crumble,
to a raving lunatic with a malicious mad stumble.
Convicted, addicted, to the same vindictive game,
this romance conceived within lies and shame.

Silently, violently, cursing the call of creation,
vowing to avenge this marital bond castration.
Pawing, gnawing, at an open bloody wound,
strumming, and humming life's unforgiving tune.


Details | Haiku | |

The Calculus

Newton and Leibniz, both creative geniuses, birth the Calculus!


Details | I do not know? | |

My Madness, Me

My Madness, Me...


Confined by this straight-jacket,
strapped in, numb and dumbed,
a washed-out, has-been, also-ran,

body, eyes, the equilibrium of mind,
rattling like stones in an old tin-can.


Still, I am, 

I am,

and I am unchained,

my dreams taking flight, soaring,
above these claustrophobic walls,
of synapses, and dungeons of stone,

swooping through green valleys,
taking a detour to savour the joys,

soaked in torrential, evergreen memories,
of a younger man, with passion in his bone.

I am.

My wings unclipped, unshackled, free,

I am, and though I am unable to see,

I am.

At long last,

me...



Details | I do not know? | |

Your Whisper

You whispered in my ear,
a breathy secret, hushed.

“I love you”, you murmured.

I said nothing,
lost, in your arms,
I found a home. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
I said nothing,
lost in my thoughts,
I found peace. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
words failed me then.

They still do.


Details | Acrostic | |

CEASIA

Compassionate personable lady,
Easy-going creative escapist,
Adaptable to new situations,
Spiritual with a sensitive nature,
Intelligence including intuition,
Absolute alluring woman.


Details | Rhyme | |

2012 resolution Vol 4

jan2012
(Resolutions is a series of 6 poems . These are a tribute to Mr.Abhay  Keni a technocrat, genius, philosopher and guide...above all a humble human being. All 6 volumes are a tribute to his simplicity and his way of life.)

This brand new year, A voice inside me keeps whispering without any fear, “You need to mend yourself now and here” So please listen to me your inner voice and to transgress the path ahead be aptly clear. Live such that the fear of death does not enter your heart, Do deeds such that dear ones and friends from you never do part. Live such that in the name of religion you hurt no one, Respects other’s and demand yours be respected by everyone. Live such as to love your life and perfect your life, And always make attempts to beautify as many things as possible in this life. Live such as to make your life long, In the service of humanity, and also to correct many wrongs. Live such so as to give a word or a salute when meeting a friend with grace, Or passing a stranger in a lonely place. Live such as to be able to respect everyone, And try to grovel at none. Live such as to arise at morn , To be able to give thanks for the joys of life, food ,health and for a human to be born. Live such so as to abuse no one ,as it turns a wise into a fool And robs the spirit of it’s vision and that really cruel. Live such that when the time comes to die, Don’t be like the people with hearts of fear and cry But the one who will sing their own death songs, And in them will give a message to all as to how in their life their joys prolong.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Perfect Painting

If one is compelled to stay longer,
If one’s senses are assailed,
If one is driven to suppose its motivation,
If one is urged to seek detail,

If the palette makes its statements,  
If each stroke helps one define,
If the subject can be seen anew,
If one seeks to know the artist’s mind,

If one sees therein a beauty,
If one somehow identifies,
If one feels their heart is touched,
If one is thankful for their eyes,

If one is moved to remember,
If one can see it in one’s mind,
If one is pushed to revisit,
If one seeks out more in kind,

If the painting is acclaimed or 
If it's “art” to only one;
Then it’s a perfect painting,
And its work is done.


Details | Verse | |

The Way

By works can man be made right?
In the law will he find sight?
What does God say?

The law reveals mankind's plight
and spurs belief in God's might.
Man needs but pray.

By choice man learns to unite
with Jesus who grants the light
to guide and stay.


When the bills you cannot pay,
when your health has found decay,
is God your force?

When your spouse has walked away,
When your job has caused dismay,
is God your course?

When your friendships meet foul play,
When the fear you can't allay,
is God your source? 


Worry and doubt, in due course
take faith for granted, perforce.
We feel God's wrath.

When willful sin we divorce
our pride must admit remorse
and self meets death.

God is sovereign,  we endorse
His wisdom as our recourse.
God is the path.


David Williams contest:  Virelai
5th place.  8/7/12


Details | Rhyme | |

Still In Love With My Wife


Still In Love With My Wife...

My son came to me with 
a question on his mind.
I said; “Not now son—
I just don't have the time.”
He said, “Daddy—are you still 
in love with Mommy?”
“Do you love her like you did when 
I was in her tummy?”

My eyes choked with tears; 
“Yes son I really do!”
“I'm in love with her...
and I appreciate you.”
“Daddy—will you always love
me like you do mom?”
“Yes my son—my love for you 
will always belong.”

I looked down and much to my surprise.
There were tears running
down my son's eyes.
He came running to me with arms wide open.
“Thank you daddy” were his words spoken.
I picked him up and gave
him a great big hug.
As I let him down, on my shirt I felt a tug.

His little arm reached up to grab my hand.
I knew that what I said,
he began to understand.
I love his mom so much—my wonderful wife.
She's been such a blessing-
a great part of my life!

By Jim Pemberton 



Details | Rhyme | |

Through The Trials And Valleys

Through The Trials And Valleys…

I’ve been through trials and difficult situations.
Many times it happens with no explanations!

Whatever I’ve had or have taken with me.
I’ve been there when everyone has left me!

The uncertainties I’ve had and struggles I face.
Have brought me to my knees in a “quiet” place.

The journeys I’ve traveled and the storms ahead.
Have brought worry and stress in the words I said.

Whatever trials I’ve  faced...  To Jesus I cried!
A comfort and strength .   He did provide!

I know a truth that is important and most certain.	
Jesus can take away any hardship or burden!

If  there were no trials...  How could I trust him?
Because of what he’s done  How I love him!

If I had no hardships or trials, I’d probably “forget him.”
Giving him my whole life?  I don’t think I’d let him!

But he’s proven to me just how much he loves me!
He reached down from heaven and touched me!

He’s my comfort and joy and enduring friend!
He’ll be there with me…  Till the very end!

This Jesus I know.  I recommend him to you!
He is God!  Our provider! This is so true!

Won’t you give him a chance in your life today!
He can bring hope and take 
all of the dark clouds away!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

We'll Change The World

Consequences, consequences punishments and lost friendships even with they seem so endless they're gone before the dawn Then when the dawn is here again we are revived, new life begin and the sin was washed away don't have to pray when he talks to me Your weakness makes us stronger, longer if we are quiet, we're quite somber slipping slowly into the water excuses are what hold us under We hold ourselves there until we're ready to take hold of the wheel with enough direction to have control we all can get there, but who ever knows until hope and fear are recognized we'll change the world, not afraid to try.


Details | Rhyme | |

This Thanksgiving Day


During this time known as Thanksgiving Day. I hope you'll give thanks and pray. A prayer of thanks for everything God has given. He has blessed us in the way we've been livin'! Our country is blessed like no other. God has supplied our "bread and butter." He's given us the freedom, we've all enjoyed. Be thankful for your food, home and being employed. For those who've endured hardship... Thank God too! It's no secret how much he loves YOU! We find in the Bible... God clearly said; "I've never seen the righteous forsaken, Nor their children begging for bread." Thanks be to Jesus, for his love, mercy and grace. And for making my heart, "his special place." I am blessed and thankful to Jesus indeed. He's given me salvation and supplies my every need. I thank God for this special day in November. Thanksgiving is a day... I will always remember! By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? | |

dreams into reality

I had a dream of you again tonight...that makes it about 3years strong....i wonder what the real thing will feel like...to hold you...to see you smile for the first time...the first time you cry...as i put my finger in your hand and you squeeze i wonder what joy will course through my veins...to say your name...to watch you sleep...to watch you as you try to figure out the world...will i miss your first words...or when you crawl...the first time you try to walk will i be there to catch you when you fall...your first birthday...will i be the dad you need me to be....will i fail...all these questions and the worst one i havnt even said....i hate to think it but it has came into my mind every once in a while...what if i never get to meet you...never have the chance to fail or succeed...to never watch you grow..to never have a chance to love you..to never be a father...what if my dreams never become reality....


Details | Free verse | |

Keep The Light In Sight

If I do, I hope that I Exit in the presence of Jesus Christ we go far back do he and I for his greater mercy once saved my life Five long lost years have past since then I gave my all so he forgave my sins a weary soul, crucified I hope he's holding me the day I die I tried my damndest to find the light and when I found it kept it in sight it's never left me I know I'm right come try and take it I'll end your night I look up fondly to the sky an understanding between he and I one time I asked him lend me his eyes and I saw a world left cold and dry In conversation we talk, no words he understands me when I'm most unheard think I'm absurd what are you? a higher being? still much confused You think the answer lies in your ways I think the Devil must be repaid he'll collect heavy your wasted time as you spend eternity at his side I see a servant for wickedness try to distract me one more dismissed I keep on walking through the night as I keep his spirit so well alive I wear your pride inside my skin as you race to the finish I just begin to be a soldier alone with the night nothing to warm me but his light in sight.


Details | Free verse | |

Ode To Yesterdays Past


I confess I rarely take the time
To thank the past for Yesterday
And that I rarely miss a chance
To mumble some complaint: 

How fast you went, 
How little of your time I spent, 
How much I've lost to you, 
How much of you I regret! 

But though you took with you
Todays I wished to keep
I've not forgotten
The many Todays
That Yesterday got me through.

To Yesterdays I raise my glass
A toast to faithful friends of past
Too often overlooked and
Not too often thanked.

So here's to Yesterday -
For never forgetting to take away
The burdens of Today. 


Details | I do not know? | |

She



A sweetly-scented, earthy rain-storm,
she came to me,

thunderously raging with raw emotion,
she came to me,

drenched in the essence of truth,
she came to me,

she touched a chord deep inside,
she strummed away all emptiness,

she came to me,

once...

she comes to me,

still...


a gentle presence filling my life,


she comes to me,


still,

a healing spirit soothing all inner strife.





Details | I do not know? | |

for Gary Moore

for gary moore...

...ain't nothing but the blues

talkin' sweltering licks

screaming through flaming hues

reaching deep, deep into that wandering soul

of devilish chords on those walkways of paris

strutting and strumming, never taking a mere stroll

so though your time here and now may be up 

and though your moments here and now may be through

forgive me for borrowing your words again

cos' we still got the blues for you...


Details | I do not know? | |

Homing in on Stuben Roo

Homing in on Stuben Roo..

Stuben Roo, the man who knew,
That spinned the tales of Abennew,
The place that dawned before the night,
The place that spawned the Abbenite,
Colors, sounds and happenstance,
Led Stuben Roo, this place by chance,
Will he belong forevermore?
Take out the key and lock the door?
Or break the chains that held him there,
By crimson stains, and heart laid bare. 


If your trying to figure this out dont bother,
it's a sensless tounge triage, in the flavor of Dr. suess


Details | Quatrain | |

dented and painted

dismissively lined as "dented and painted"
protesting violence and raping of women 
those self-appointed, oh holy and sainted
can we turn another cheek and forgive them?

to relate to another with an iron-bar
to relate to another with utter disdain
to relate to another without human care
is this the civility we wish to attain?

you who are better, more worthy than other
you who are truer, in eyes of your god 
you with blood bluer than natural mother
might discern that it's you, who is flawed

sticks, or bars, or clenched fists attest
that you're no better than the rest with
casting of glances from eyes that detest
superimposed superiority is but a myth

want and ignorance are alive and strong
in all nations, so in all the world today
actually, it's been that way - all along
if we wish to civilize we must go all the way

and speak for every individual that spins
on this ball of rock that we call our home
to evolve higher form we must be, in the end
and remember, what is reaped, is what is sown

© Goode Guy 2012-12-29

http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/12/28/168224273/victim-of-brutal-rape-in-india-dies-in-singapore-hospital?ft=1&f=1001
http://www.npr.org/2012/12/28/168185857/india-gang-rape-update
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/12/22/167879878/unprecedented-public-rage-over-gang-rape-in-india


Details | Blank verse | |

From Abor to Columbus

Gods of my Birthwaters
I carry your heart with me (I carry it in
my soul) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go with me) and whatever are my thoughts 
(you are in the thoughts)

Gods of my Birthplace
I have no life (you are my life) 
I have no future (for you are 
my future) and I have no dream of my own 
(for you are in every dream)

where can I go 
without you (can the tiger deny itself 
the spots in its skin)
I carry the birthmark
of the tiger 

but here is the deepest sorrow 
the darkness I carry in my waywardness
stranded at crossroads away from Home 
(and this is the root of the problem) I’m in love 
with macaroni-n-cheese 
(and I’m told that’s civilization
away from yam puddings we knew at Home) and we
are forced to drink stinging grief and smile calmly

I have taken a new name (and it wrung my hands
and killed my memory of Home) and turn my soul 
to a stone and under the dark veil (I have to learn to live again) 

it’s the he-goat that learns something 
when it loses an ear
on the long running highways 
of blues

how can I forget to pay my debts
to ancestral Birthwaters
when many stones are thrown
at my last smile and the pit 
has become my solitary mast 
at the bay of the Master Termite

it is the herring that said
homebound is the last resort of the maimed goat 
maybe, when the northern breeze comes 
I’ll take the deep dive Homeward to where 
the broods eat grains of sorghum from scuffed 
pages of the mother’s palm and the sun’s last rays 
bring joy to dying lips 

walking this long dark road
dancing to nowhere to call Home
your tattoos on my soul shatter my dreams
and here I sit holding to an albatross 
searching through echoes 
of yesterdays for a bright eye
to see through footprints of frozen tears 

in this twilight zone
I gather in the silence
the will to sail on before the sun 
is gone from silence
and the lighthouse eaten by the storm


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Forward Observer

In a cold dark damp jungle on a line he now calls home,
Sits the Forward Observer, waiting for orders, observing the enemy all alone.
Enemy trying to find his position; to terminate his view.
He'll sit in silence for hours, to guide the direction for a military move.
No sleep, no fire, COLD;  bitter cold Korean jungle. 
Slow moves;  that command approves.
Watchful eyes;  always looking for the sniper's
The sniper always trying to end your day, your life; your way, back to your family.
Slither like a snake they said during training to do this job.
Slow and calculated because every move could be your last. 
seconds into minutes; minutes into hours; hours into days 
and still no replacement, to take this chill away.
Silence becomes your friend.
Time becomes a loss,
Cold damp surroundings, become your only boss. 
F.O. they call me;  both sides abhor me! 
because I'm the one that rains down fire,
on the line as only I can see it.
Some call me God, others call me satin, 
it all mixes in the middle as a Forward Observer station.


Details | I do not know? | |

Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Mido Macia was a 27 year old Mozambican man, working in Daveyton near Johannesburg as a taxi-driver, who was found dead in a police cell, after police savagely dragged Mr. Macia whom they had tied to their police van.

The brutal incident of Mr. Macia being dragged was caught on camera and has shocked South Africa.

The 8 police officers involved are facing charges of murder, and have been suspended from the South African Police Service (SAPS).

This poem is an angry poem that I felt had to be written, because as a society, we need to ask ourselves and each other the hardest questions about xenophobia and intolerance and violence.





Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Death came to Mido Macia,
a savage, brutal, hellish death came to Mido Macia.


Death came to Mido Macia,
death dressed-up in the colours of authority,
as callous, vile, sadistic policemen murdered Mido Macia.


The video-footage is blood-curdling,
Mido Macia being dragged,
his hands tied behind him,
to a police van.


But death came later to Mido Macia,
death cheered, clapped, and tore into Mido Macia.


Death came to Mido Macia,
in the cells where they murdered Mido Macia.



Death came to Mido Macia,
a fuelled, cheered-on, instigated death came to Mido Macia.


We are all culpable,
every one of us is culpable,


from racist 'jokes' emailed and texted,
to self-righteous comments about the 'foreigners',


from casual dinner-table conversations,

'they take our jobs',
'they are crooks' 
the 'they marry our women' kind of lunch-time chats,


racist, xenophobic, hate-filled talk,


to beating a human-being to death in a police cell,


or on the streets of Cape Town, Johannesburg ,

and in Daveyton,

where death came to Mido Macia.



Mido Macia 1986 - 2013




Details | I do not know? | |

The Swaying of the Grass

1.

 

A path leads,

to where wild grass grows,

 

sashaying in the summer breeze.

 

2.

 

Along the path,
lightness settles within,

 

feeling the grass,
swooning,
tickling ankles,

 

swaying to the lilting bird-song,

in a dance of intimate abandon,

 

brushing the remnants of pain away.

 

3.

 

Melodies float across fields of green,

delicately caressing my heart,

 

teasing emptiness to flee,

comforting the mind,

 

to silently be.

 

4.

 

Walking on,
savouring the peace,

 

a momentary respite,
from the burdens of the now,

 

all is quiet,

 

a stillness cradling fractured emotions,

 

the grass in the fields sway,

 

dusk descends,

 

shadows lengthen,

 

nudging dimming light to take leave,

 

of the day


Details | Rhyme | |

Christ Voice Made The Difference

Christ’ Voice Made A Difference! Christ’ voice made a difference in my life today! He spoke peace and love! And took my sins away! His voice made the difference, when nothing else could. All of my problems and failures, he understood! His voice made the difference, with words of healing and hope! He picked me up, when my life was on a “slippery slope!” His voice made the difference, in my moment of desperation! It brought peace to my heart and sweet inspiration! His voice made the difference when everything else failed me! I listen to his voice! it brings love all around me! His voice can make the difference for you! Won’t you listen? You’ll never know “what in the world,” you’re missin! His voice speaks peace to all fears! And life’s raging storms! His love will “glue together,” a life that’s “wrecked and torn.” His voice is all you need! It brings assurance His gift of eternal life is 100% “life insurance!” His voice beckons... Our lord calls our name! I’m glad I listened! I’m very glad he came! His voice is what’s important! And very much needed! It’s only through Christ, that our life is completed! By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? | |

Purchased and payed for

It still awes me everyday
how You loved me anyway,
even showed me constant grace
when I strayed and turned from you my face.
You kept watching over me
even spared my very breath
show mercy that would not relent,
or allow the sting of death
to remain a wall between us,
breaking down its very hold.
Turned my heart of stone to flesh,
rekindled a flame turned cold.

You reminded me forgiveness
was given before I asked
so all doubt is vanity,
now I put my faith to task
knowing I am free indeed,
Jesus Christ has purchased me
Always standing at the door
with new life to embrace me.

Not to me alone, but ALL
You have granted such a chance
to sit and to feast with You,
to rejoice in sing and dance
for the victory is ours
those who call You shall be saved!
No longer enslaved to darkness
Jesus has overcome the grave!


Details | Free verse | |

Collaborating in the clouds- Gods Hold

If Gods favorite hero suddenly became cold,
   Lonely, disoriented, unhappy with sorrows untold,
   Would it be of interest in Heaven? Concerns of man,
   Would our saviors come to Earth to be born again?

God would send out his best hands to hold,
   Would he set backwards time to where all heroes spirits were sold.

If only our love could behold
   Lined with twine of silver wrapped in gold
   Gifts to to God to wash our sin
   Equipped pillars stories told

Thoughts about God mirrors my pen


Details | Free verse | |

A Sinner I am Not

Closing my eyes
Feeling the moment
Listening
No thoughts distracting me
Surrendering
Setting my heart free
Reviewing, learning, growing
Releasing the blame and guilt, I harbour
Releasing the things, I once thought I could change
Recognising good or bad
Right or wrong 
A sinner I am not!
My mistakes, my greatest blessings
Living my life
Being human


Details | I do not know? | |

For Dr Martin Luther King Jr

For Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
 
You had a dream
of pastures of peace
where children of all hues mingled like rainbows
 
they silenced you, but your voice
resounds now in those pastures
not yet of peace
 
and your dream is still a dream
the dream you dreamt while others slept
 
you said that you’d been to the mountain-top
and they silenced your voice just then
before your eyes saw that promised land
of pastures of peace where children of all hues mingle like rainbows
 
now your vision is glimpsed in some pastures
not yet of peace
and yes, they silenced your voice
but your spirit their bullets could never tear apart
your spirit, like your dream
is mingled with the wind in all those pastures
not yet of peace
and until we give life to your dream
those pasture of peace
where children of all hues mingle like rainbows
shall remain simply your dream
so as we remember you today
and pledge that those pastures of peace
are nourished first in each of us
for only then will your dream will take root
and blossom into our shared dream
and the view from the mountain-top,
radiant and bright and full of hope shall seem
 
where children of all hues mingle like rainbows
 
 
 
 


Details | Rhyme | |

unbounded

for Malala Yousafzai

A mere demigod won't do
to feel the fear that
a young woman, a little girl
can put into a righteous man

Horrific are the thinly educated
some holy book might have related
if thought of by the deity beforehand
blessed be children, who can't understand

Our darkness, it is a fearsome place
but we must stay - our people, our race
enlightenment is but for the chosen few
but damn the rest and put them through

pain and suffering of relentless disdain
that reign supreme in divinity's domain
the best offense is to be offended
then violence reigns all ways, never ended

Does sharia demand the murder of daughters?
might not an education have gone further?
influencing to follow leadership that bought her
a meaningful way of life by a faithful observer

Terrorism comes in many forms - always has
and the sword of fear drones too from skies
whether strangers or family, makes no matter
when defending murder of innocents in the guise

of knowing the will of life for another
saying a child must die to prove righteous point
and how they bring purpose and meaning to
a terrorized life, with innocent blood anointing

Would god demand that Abraham carry through
killing his innocent son to prove his fear of God
is god so insecure in the top most place that
murder is the mandate for the true believer

Murder begets little I think, in a universal nature
but the continuation of the circled violence
mere words don't justify spiritual killing in any nomenclature
to bring us to some pursuit of spiritual deliverance

© Goode Guy 2012-10-09

http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/10/09/162573135/taliban-say-they-shot-14-year-old-pakistani-girl-who-exposed-their-cruelty?ft=1&f=1001
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/oct/10/malala-yousafzai-young-pakistani-heroine


Details | I do not know? | |

The Wonders of Mother Earth

The mountains, so majestic, cannot speak out loud, 

The lions roar, to let you know that their growing pride is proud, 

The Dolphins jump and play,that,s their way, so that you can see, 

The insects, pollinate, at their own rate, busily buzzing, like a bee, 

The ocean waves, splashing hard, upon the vast beach shore,

 the volcanos spit out lava, from their fiery core, 

The Elephants noisily trumpet, to make us all aware, 

the eagle soars, on outstretched wings, way high up in the air, 

The peacock shows you,his colorful display, by his feathers bright, 

The owl hoots and hollers, under a crisp, full moonlight, 

The trees gently sway, showing you the way to a better day, 

The rooster too, with a cock-a-doodle doo, as he struts and sashays,

 All of these things, that Nature brings, just means it,s trying to say, 

We,re trying to infer, to take care of her and to all a Happy Earth Day!


Details | Rhyme | |

Ode to Humanity

It seems like my life is always lacking. Too many blurry faces passing. It's like living in a time when the world is gone, No one can agree because everyone is wrong. If we all could take time to appreciate our lives, And stop believing and telling these foolish lies, Maybe then we could live in harmony, In a world full of love like it was meant to be. I wish I could tell them all the way I feel, But no one will believe because it's so unreal. This idea that we all could be at peace, And we all could be each other's release. Maybe one day we could find some common ground Lying somewhere in the Lost & Found. But you know this is just the way it goes, When all this hatred just overflows. In a time when no one can just understand What it's like to walk with each other hand in hand. It all comes down to a change of mind, And to leave the stigmas and hate behind. Does it really make them feel good deep within, To hate another person based on the color of their skin? It's not what's on the outside that makes them who they are, It's what's inside them; It's what's in their heart. It doesn't matter what we look like externally, The only thing that matters is who we chose to be. We are strong, and have the power to agree, To love and cherish each other's company. And I know that we can all hold each other up and live free. This is my ode to humanity.