As I spoke of being walluntorspearsed*,
He farlossteeled and I stumbled.
Can’t words return to their nest?
Whispers I’ve heard of his moogsmoorwood* flight,
Though from him I receive little but those looks
that churn my loreeleame until I am soft.
And yet, I am no different than he,
Keeping tales tucked in a vault,
My skirmish with the Wartanwusters*
Who easily pried my closed carriage wide,
And left me empty of sight and thought.
Twice I have not spoken but lied,
He thinks I’m like the fruit of the Kalamyreeno,
Sweet and layered and unseeded inside,
So I bury all those salty secrets deep ~
My battles with the Grimm-gloommers*,
And my resurrection in the Valley of Forgetrampt.
I’m like my mother and her mother before,
The blade in my blackarath belt is tinged,
And my soulcleave shield is singed by war.
The taste of salt and fury urges me forward.
How can he not see me,
When I stand in his highleaven light?
Does he not recognize the truth in himself?
When will he tear open the door
and cross the abyss to my armored side?
He is teeming with answers,
So refuses to meet me halfway!
Yet, I carefully, quietly follow,
Slaying Grimm-gloommers* and others,
The Narkavenomites he hasn’t noticed
watching his drawn curtains at night,
And I will guard him, though the world drops,
For I will never stop walluntorspearsing* about him.
…If he knew of my strength and the power I yield,
He’d turn from me. For what is man without pride?
*the words thus marked are the sole creation of Chris Aechtner and used (gratefully)with his permission.
About this poem
This a reply to Chris's brillant poem On the Wings of Moogsmoorwood. His poem was so gripping that I wanted to 'answer' it, as other poets of old have done to works they found inspiring. It is difficult to try to recapture a feel a poem has, keep its style, and yet still inject your own voice and nuances. I thank Chris for his encouragement and suggestions in this attempt. I really enjoyed trying his pen on for size!
Little Bee, Deaamoo, grandmother of the Crane Clan, lies staring. The light of
winter’s first full moon falls into the room. Through a ghostly haze of tobacco and
sage smoke, she sees her loved ones. One withered hand clasps a cowrie shell,
mee-ghis, tightly to her heart and in the other she holds a small dreamcatcher for
her youngest granddaughter Little Aamoo. Strands of gray white hair escape from
her braids which trail down beside her bird-frail form touching the fringe of her
parting dress. Her clan has been in the sweat lodge praying for her safe journey
home, some appear red-cheeked; others are a pale as the shades of her
ancestors. It is the end of her days, a time for passing on.
Outside of the house near the fringe of balsam pine a circle of stones are laid, each
one blessed and bringing an anchoring comfort to man, lodged between earth, and
sky. The four directions are marked and her way west is clear for her. Soon, she will
ask loved ones to lay here amongst the gifts laid for Pacugu, The Great horned Owl,
near the spirit house.
The veil is thin now between this world and the next. The smoke branches upward,
showing the way to sky world where Gichi Manidoo waits. The songs are being sung
for her now. The Shaman’s rattle is crisp and clear. All about her is beauty. Drums
keep the beat of her heart. They wait. Remembering one last story, she calls her
family to her, she must leave them with all the knowledge she has. "Ah, what was
that story? Well, that is not for you."
Judith must be punished for her unborn sins,
and haunted by her unborn fears.
She will beg her powerless mother for that
which the Sun and the Moon cannot give.
A trusting child tells with a momentary stare,
that she cannot wait to live,
Yet she cries and bleeds, pure and aware,
as the ghost of a dying God appears.
The smoke and fog of joy, on the barren hills
of promise fade away to reveal,
A clearing where a Mother and Daughter can
find truth in this awkward chastity.
The young women wearing colourful masks of
bliss and happiness have come to heal,
While the dark and jealous crones paint black
portraits of pain and lay beds of misery.
Their betraying love is not real but mere glass,
that by hand has the face of a jewel.
Their offering of hope and trust mean nothing
as they nail Judith’s hands to the stake.
The black vultures of torment, circle,
as the faithful put fires to the fuel.
And her mother’s screaming and lone cries
of anguish, leave none innocent in their wake.
Yet her tortured Mother who gave Judith her life,
smiles exquisitely, as they start.
Together they begin their secret flight, that
lifts them high above this tragedy,
As love and hatred both rip and tear,
at the soul like arrows into a dead heart.
In this painful and mysterious world,
there is no greater form of alchemy,
Than the acceptance of clear blue eyes,
the disarming smile of the condemned in fear,
And the tender sounds of assent,
that are being whispered too soft for some to hear.
Judith will be born tonight , leaden hearts will be golden and doubt will
Nelly my mum was 87 on June -7th -11
her Writings at ...
My sweet little momma still lives in her house. independently.
ELLEN MAY JOHNSON. (Beau Brummell is her great Uncle)
Yes Ellen Brummell was her name, our good sweet Mother dear .
We wouldn`t trade this girl so game, I`ll surely make that clear.
When droving sheep with her we went, back in the early fifties.
She drove the truck wherever sent, and set up camp so swiftly .
She fed the mob and kept us neat, and educated too.
She always was so good and sweet, of mother this is true.
She always gave us of her best, waited on us hand and foot.
With such a mother we were blessed, these words I`ve poorly put.
If ever with her down you set, She`ll fill your plate my friend.
The fastest meal you`ll ever get, If not your arm she`ll bend.
How she ever put up with our mob, watched over us with care.
Only mother could just do the job, of this of course I swear.
So when you see her run about, too busy to sit down.
Just you she waits on have no doubt, or some stranger from the town.
Don JohnsonConstance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name 'Mother'
Let another sun set,
Let another flower wilt,
Let another autumn cast its gloom,
Let another tear role,
As ye part, and bid
The final adieu.
St. Stephen’s college
Living my dream
I had one dream when I was young
To go to another land
In life I wasn’t satisfied
I wanted something grand
Lions, tigers. Kangaroos
And all those wild, wild beasts
Africa, South America
Or Australia at least.
Possessive Mother was my curse
How could I get away?
Every time I mentioned it
She had so much to say
And made me feel so guilty
Really cramped my style
And then one day there came along
Something to make me smile
I’d just turned my nineteenth year
When this great girl came along
She hailed from West Australia
And filled my heart with song
So we got married, had some kids
And here we are in Oz
Been here for half a century
And I came here all because
It was my fate to find this girl
She was my destiny
There’s be a whisper in the skies
That knows how things will be
It takes one’s soul, and leads it on
So growth, it might occur
And I know that west Australia
My heart, it sure does stir.
4 August 2013 @ 1440hrs.
The bark worn smooth,
a scamper up.
Looking down takes my breath away.
Leveling off, I’m safe in the cockpit.
Flying the Iowa skies, way above the tassels,
Control panel at my fingertips.
Spreading my wings and charging the clouds.
Birds skimming by.
The branch cradling my adventure
back firmly against the trunk,
sun over my shoulder.
Apple blossom shadows on my arm.
Between petals and freckles,
bright spot lights of sun
sparkle on my skin.
The petals are so pretty.
I pick a bouquet,
shinny down the tree, and
bring apple blossoms home to my mother.
The Old Salt was a special man who came along in a time
when he was needed most.
A time that is now gone forever.
When men believed and sacrificed, when hero’s walked the earth in mass.
When patriotism was not just a word
by what men lived and judged the worth of each,
a man who lived a life most of us cannot comprehend.
An era now gone as this warriors tour of duty ends at this station,
and begins anew in the heavenly fleet.
Sail on Sailor into your unaccompanied tour,
we salute you.
What greater honor, that when a man moves forward,
he leaves behind in each of us the best of what he was.
A defender, protector, supporter, victor, a warrior,
the last of the breed from an era when ships were made of wood
and men were made of steel.
The Old Salt has reported for duty that takes him away from us for now.
Those of us who remain behind,
remember, and will continue to remember,
because he now resides forever in our hearts.
As I look up at night, I envision The Old Salt,
a beret draped just above the eye,
as he draws upon his pipe,
quietly he waits.
The guardian of heaven’s gate.
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
On a pile of fragrant petals,
I found a small bird nest.
It had fallen from the plum tree
And settled there to rest.
The blue eggs were all unbroken,
Petals had softened fall.
Mother bird was loudly chirping,
Hovering over all.
I dared not touch the fallen nest
To leave a human smell.
I merely looked into its depths
To see that all was well.
Pushing bright petals around it
To hide it from plain view,
I gave a wave to mother bird
And said, “It’s up to you.”
I did not chance that way again
For a full month or more.
I stopped to check upon the nest
That had been there before.
The eggs were gone, the fallen nest
Was lying all askew.
I worried that bad had happened
To the small eggs of blue.
And then I heard a happy sound
And spied the mother bird.
A message passed from her to me
Without a single word.
I took her song as a thank you
For my feeble attempt
To guard her nest from predators
Who’d treat it with contempt.
There were four balls of downy fluff
On the branch right by her side.
I stopped to admire her little brood,
Then went on with my ride.
Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
The wind blew events all over the place.
Intense emotions and it gave chase.
Lightning lighting to show us the sky.
People try to sleep and not cry.
Wisping by the wind keeps us awake.
The time trying to sleep the storms take.
Chills in everyone gives all shiver.
The clouds surrounded by moonlight is silver.
Heavenly prayers that the rain will stop.
The flood stopped a car the person in it was a cop.
People have seen such devastation.
The road that people made was week in creation.
Rivers near by was over flowing.
Trees that were there was not showing.
By the hour it claimed many.
My father woke up and did not see any.
Floating by was a boat.
Keeping people above water and a float.
My father kept a canoe.
That some day we would use it, that he knew.
Time to paddle up and down the street.
The rain water kept getting on our seat.
It was so dark after the moon was behind the cloud.
Still the noise of thunder still covered the ears loud.
The smell of moist water never seem to go away.
My brothers seem to still sleep anyway.
My head was bobbing up and down.
I was so tired that I could not hear a sound.
The wind blew back and fourth.
It seems that my mom and dad paddle their worth.
Till all the people we saw with grace.
Help us out with embrace.
The time was so late at night.
Everyone was so sleepy and losing sight.
The fight with the weather was so hectic.
The feelings of energy was electric.
Losing to such natural disaster is hard to understand.
When people working hard to block the river with bags of sand.
With hard workers like my mom and dad.
They make things happen that is not bad.
Rough with weather they experience more than ever.
Leaders they are they are very clever.
From the night light of street lights to the morning glow.
The wind did not stop so.
Bringing in more clouds that ill.
The people who were still tired still had will.
The rush of water and waves blasting push the wall side.
Pushing and the force brought water inside.
The battle of our hour was getting long.
Backup people came to aid us was strong.
Rested they were to keep everyone with hope.
The people stopped the water with the strength of rope.
Heavy rain and loss of homes bring people together.
It is kind of sad that this was the only time to gather.
Chaos comes happiness how true.
This is why we are human that gives us a clue.
It is our nature to keep rain falling.
To know when it is time for our calling.
The winds bring such pain and sorrow.
That is why rain sometimes fallow.
He starts singing songs of Ireland and we are home in a jiffy
"What's a jiffy," my mother wonders
"Guess where we went Granny?"
"I don't know but I have a feeling you are gonna tell me," answers my grandmother
"And Don't call me Granny!"
"We went to church so Poppy could ask secret questions."
"The priest gave Poppy a shot and a beer and Poppy sent me next store and he gave me money for taffy."
"He told me not to tell anyone especially you about the priest cause it's only for the priests ears."
"He said God would take away taffy and I'd never get another goodie and God would strike me dead if I told."
"So I can't tell anyone."
"He did," and she starts yelling and grabs a weapon,"what kind of idiot would be scaring a little child?"
Granny is standing on Poppy's toes and and asking him questions of where he'd been and getting a sniff of his breath
"So what did you tell the priest and him giving you consolation and a shot and beer."
"That little rat ," and thinks about the money for candy
Later, Granny is chasing Poppy with that big iron frying pan and poppy running and singing
"In Heaven they have no beer, that's why we drink it here."
"You damn fool I'm gonna bust you in the head, "and throws the pan at his head
Cousin Francis has bill collectors come to the house looking for him
Granny was four foot seven inches and she starts kicking him in the shin
My Mother grabs his Dick Tracy hat and she jumps on it and flattens it
I ask my mom where I was when this happened and she pauses
" You were in Heaven Patrick waiting with your brother!"
The truancy officers bang on the door and want to know where Uncle Charles is
Granny shrugs and says, "He is upstairs and the sound of the window going up sounds
They all run upstairs and see Uncle sliding down the tree and running as fast as his
seven year legs can move
He comes home later that evening holding a goose under his arm
And Poppy has a soft-boiled goose egg for breakfast every morning
I ask Uncle what happened to that goose and He said,"one day he came home and
they had chicken for dinner."
And Poppy was gone to heaven to get me and my brother ready Mom says
And Granny sits my brother and me on her lap and says,"you two knuckleheads listen up."
"This is very important so don't forget it."
"Treat people the way you want to be treated, because you never know who is going to hand you your last glass of water"
How do I describe such distress?
A squirrel sat on a lower limb,
His mother had chased him from the nest.
His heart was broken, in upheaval, a mess.
His home gone. His mother turning her back so new.
Oh what, oh what will he ever do?
Each breath he takes is a mighty gulp,
Then the sound so soulful with every shout.
Cries of pain were so deeply felt,
That every bout rips my heart inside out.
It renders me tearful to hear the sounds flow…
The need to help him drives me so,
How could his mother yield such a blow?
But he is wild and won’t let me help his woe.
A human I’d hold so warm and tight.
I’d build a nest for him if it were right.
But I know he won’t accept my help,
As he cries on and on in his plight.
For an hour he tore my heart to shreds…
Then finally a young squirrel came from another tree, instead.
Together they ran off fulfilling his needs…
His cries stopped. He’d found what he wanted with those pleas…
Now if mankind could only help those in need, with such simplicity.
Go to war and you will find out
that everyone bleeds red blood.
Be you red, yellow, brown, black or white;
if you are wounded, bright red blood comes gushing out.
Skin color doesn’t make any difference whatsoever.
While I’m on a railing rant let me tell you another war truism:
if you are mortally wounded and die a slow lingering death,
you will cry out for your mama.
No man cries out for his wife, no woman cries out for her husband.
No one even cries out for their papa.
When you are lying on the doorstep of death’s eternal rest,
you will leave this mortal world with mama on your mind.
Do you want to know why?
Because your mama will always dearly love you
whether you grow up to be a good person or even if you turn out bad.
Here’s to new beginnings,
And what this year will bring;
A fun filled year of passion,
And our baby in the spring;
A new life in our arms,
Our prospects look so bright;
Just thinking of our future,
Fills me with delight;
I can not wait to hold him,
And watch the wonder in his eyes;
As each an every second,
Fills him with surprise;
He is the new beginning,
To the life that we’ve begun;
And a happy home in which,
We welcome our new son.
God's glance and a fine memory
Poppy snores away sitting in his comfortable chair
And Granny takes a feather and tickles his nose
He wipes at his face and goes back to his fantastic snore
Poppy from Ireland and his shot and a beer
On payday Granny sends my Mother with Poppy as a reminder
"And don't take any side routes"
He gets his pay and starts to home
They walk to the chapel and just one
It's always just one
He tells my mother to wait outside and he hands her 25 cents
"Now don't forget when Mommy questions you, where did we go."
"We went to see Father Duke and Poppy I'm not dumb."
"I'm gonna have a palaver with this priest," as he goes into the bar
"Keep your mouth shut I need to ask the priest some advice."
He drinks a few quick shots and faster beer's
And my mother buys a taffy
She stands waiting and eating taffy and Poppy happily comes out of the bar
"Now don't forget that we got the pay and I took you to get a goodie."
"But Poppy what about the priest who gave you a shot and beer?"
"Don't be talking and eat your goodie."
For some reason it wouldn't take the whole poem,, That's why I had to continue to Granny2
Strange or not
Odd and fun.
That’s not all
And still are
Strange and odd.
life is life.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move
Lies are life.
Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.
Lies are truth.
Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.
Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.
Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Truth will live.
Truth will be.
< just look at my son ...
down to size of thirty two
.... fencing hackling
meat and potatoes ...
leftovers from my mother
... well isn't that special
eat sleep and ... running
thats all I will ever see
... glad father isn't here
Written by Katherine Stella
For Dr Rams IN-LAWS Contest
I do not know?
The Blue Rose
upon a Hill of Heathers
seldom do know
Songs speak of its
but few have lived to see
its rich blood blue petals
smells of sweet ginger and honey
The legend has it
the blue rose can cure
a thousand different ailments
although, I am not
My Grandmother told me
if you eat three petals
before you sleep
the disease which
infects, out of you
it will seep
Not many have heard
the powers of the
for it secretly grows
Our qualms doth not live aloft our dreams to confer
Upon heavenly horizons where every soul shall dwell
Twas meant to turneth thy sight away from a lovers stare
Should sunshine always show, should seas forever break swell
Thou and thou maketh one long vow bound before holy eyes
As fate end lives to lure in new casts God maketh so endears
Why hath ye been sojourned in secrecy of where thine truest treasure lies
When in that divine next place, you will sigh at thine sight of no fears
Mustn't time only tell tales lived on by unvanquished surrenderers
Sailing cordially lost with us, addled no more but paddled on pent in pain
Or herein reap rewards wrought upon death’s frozen oar bearers
Shores to shores, we promised ourselves cradles to returneth once again
Thus as adventure unfolds amongst ocean graves hushed we see
Where perpetual peace reigneth forever we are at last in love at sea
Andrew Walker aged 8 years old,
Doing as he was told,
Will leave West Hoxton Primary School at 3.14 pm today.
He will kick a can along the path.. all the way.
He will walk towards his home in Hope Street,
Smiling his winning smile to anyone he might meet.
Preferring the joy of walking to the pain of bus travel.
He will laugh, the joy of a child, as he watches life unravel.
It is only a walk of 200 metres but he will not get there.
Life will rise from darkness and despair,
And as he approaches the West Hoxton Basketball gym,
a black Ford Falcon will pull up close to him.
Leaving the car engine running, Mr Williams will go up to him and play.
And the light in his eyes will slowly fade away.
Mr Williams will offer him money to go into the toilets in the park.
Andrew will say no, explaining that his Mother will be worried if he’s out after dark.
At 5.12pm a local man John Ragen will go into the toilet,
And stop breathing for a moment.
He will quickly call the local Police.
And stare at Andrew now as cold as ice.
The Police will find little Andrew’s blood-stained body on the cold
concrete of the toilet block...just as they were told.
They will not find his pants or underpants.
They will find barbed wire tied around his hands.
At 8.14pm Mrs Walker , Andrew’s mother will be asked to identify
her son’s broken body as it lies in the morgue without dignity.
She will bite down on her clenched fist until it bleeds.
She will cease to feel anything as the time speeds.
She will weep tears of blood.
And fall upon the back lawn into the mud.
At 3.30 am Mrs Walker will take a bottle of sleeping pills,
And sleep, preferring the safety of darkness to the horror of the light that kills.
Her last words in this dark world will be “I love you Andy Pandy.”
I left Ireland in the 80's with my husband and two babies for Holland. In 2003, we
returned so that our children could have an Irish University education. Dublin was
buzzing with life at the time, it was very expensive but we were home. Now in 2011,
my daughter is emigrating, back down the old ancestral path, she is going to Madrid
to teach English there. Our country has collapsed so badly, there is no employment
here so we are exporting our young, educated children by the day. A sad day for me
as my daughter leaves tomorrow. I wrote her this poem.
On the wave of emigration
I want you to know
That I see you, a fellow female
An equal on every level
Not just my daughter
My little pink princess
I see you as a woman
A power within this world
With oceans to offer
A lifetime still to learn
Go to your new life
A teacher in Madrid
Be free and fearless
Spread your wings and fly
Take the opportunities
Shape them to your dreams
You have all the tools
You can use them now.
Your analytic mind
Will help you make good decision
Fair and just rewards will ensue.
Your radiating heart
Will gift you new friendships
Maybe even a new love
All in good time
You will never be alone
Because you have a deep sense of self
This will be fortified
With this new tide
Your feet firmly planted
Will always serve you well
Balancing the ups and downs of Libra
Always true to yourself
Life will be true to you too.
We live in a new age today
This global world is small
As we email and skype
Fly back and forth to visit
We will continue to love
As mother and daughter
Our journeys through life
I will hold you safe
In my heart.
I do not know?
When I hold your hand
I know its true
your love for me
has truly grew
from a hill to a
your the only one
I can count on
to be there when times
in all your sweet
kisses and hugs, you
have shown me
your love is my treasure
and we can stand strong
through any weather
as turtle doves,
we fly together forever
when I hold your hand
My grandmother came from Ireland
from far across the sea.
She had romantic tales to tell
to Sister and to me.
She angered my darling mother
by filling up our heads
with stories of the little folk
who lived beneath our beds.
She whispered us a secret that
our mama didn’t know.
She said that it would be better
if we would keep it so.
When she crossed the sea from Ireland,
she had a little lad.
He was already two years old
before she met Granddad.
She told Grandfather her story,
a selkie stole her heart.
He came as a handsome mortal
and fooled her from the start.
He loved her and then he left her,
was claimed back by the sea.
The only thing she had of him
was a wee lad to be.
She knew right from the start, her son
was borrowed fom the sea.
In time his tie to land would end
however long that be.
She watched him growing tall, with dread,
as handsome as his sire.
He wandered near or wandered far,
girls gathered to admire.
Before our eyes our grandma changed
and she became the girl
who long ago had loved a man
who set her heart awhirl.
He had deep eyes of darkest brown,
and unreal velvet skin.
He charmed her as no Irish lad
would know how to begin.
“Where is he then, our dear uncle?”
My sister and I cried.
“I guess the folks who knew him well,
would tell you that he died.
They saw him walking by the sea,
watching the tide come in.
Though we searched for many a day
he was not seen again.”
Now when I see the silky seals
on warm rocks in the sea
I fancy one is a selkie,
who looks a bit like me.
( I have read that male selkies are very handsome in their human form and have great seduction powers over mortal women. Poor grandma then was a young Irish lass, full of dreams and he was so handsome. In their true form they look very much like seals.)
The doctor called me little babe,
My parents call me Rob
When I was bad my Mum would wail
And then let out a sob.
“Oh madammuck”, she’d say to me
What is it that you do
Why do you always act that way
And give me grief from school.
One day I took the row boat out
And then stayed out all day
The anger in my father’ face
Made coming home a tale
He took my hand and slapped me hard
And said I was so wrong
Oh Mum I asked, “Why are you mad”
I wasn’t gone that long!
We were very worried she said to me
Your only eight years old
We didn’t know just where you were
We’ve been terrified all day
Well I said like madammuck
“Why do you hit me then”
“If you were worried like you said,
Give me a hug instead!!!”
The years have passed; I’ve grown some
More years than in my age
I’m still the same within my mind
Strong willed and blazing trails!!!
Our drive started out like any typical summer trip into Philadelphia. Both buses rolling down the highway loaded with screaming teens, eager to reach their destination in a hurry. Rush-hour traffic was heavy, the white lines hidden beneath watery mirages that lifted only briefly beneath underpasses. The skyscrapers were barely visible through the thick haze of summer's heat. The skyline had the appearance of night and day clashing off in the distance. You could smell the rain approaching.
along city streets
slight breeze carries aroma
food and wet pavement
Once the children were safely inside, the buses continued to 30th street station, the only place the city allows buses to park free. The windows were all still down and the roof hatches open as the skyline grew darker. A light show was off in the distance and approaching quickly. The homeless people were now entering the train station in hopes to stay dry and earn a meal or some quick cash.
young girl wears a sign
on the corner
Inside the train station a young family sits on a bench awaiting the arrival of a family member. The benches line the hallway with vendors tucked in the center isle. We sit across from the young family, facing them as an elderly gentleman approaches them. In his arms he carries a sketchpad and a piece of charcoal. The little boy, probably about 10 years old, has grown tired of sitting by now, and his teenage sitters seem agitated by his silly games, the mother in frustration hands him money for a sketch.
with quick hands
he carefully sketches
The oldest sister now amazed asks for her's as well. The man sketches her picture to a beautiful black and white replica. The mother refuses to spend another dime and sends him away without paying. Behind us sits another elderly man. He seems to be carrying on a very intelligent conversation with himself. This amazes the children for their final hour and fills them with much knowledge as they slide in to listen.
an old man speaks
as he looks to his right
just his cane sits
The last train has now entered the station and the crowds of people are disappearing outside. The storm has now passed and the sky left a permanent black with the coming of night. We headed outside to the buses to begun our return trip home.
on the street
two yellow buses
filled with rain
Trees and dirt I sleep on the earth, the dust the sand, longing to birth.
Oil on skin, bare,
sweat on your back,
Yes! Im back on track.
Sleeping cosy as a worm,
unencumbered by any material possession or fixed term.
Free to explore, a magical universe,
I must implore.
No home, no chores, no bills to pay.
Just water, food gathered and warmth today.
A dusty cave, cute as a button, no slamming door,
just love in your belly, to the very core.
I love this realm,
just need more time,
time to explore.
Trees and dirt I sleep on the earth, the dust, the sand, longing to birth.
And return once again to mother earth.
its a child
with a smile
who loves mother taste
its not a waste
it not how old
some or just bold
so mother reload
with there seeking
BABY AND MOTHER
Dropped out of school
At an early age
Lived on the streets
Because, I disgusted my mother
She thought I was a poor example
Of true Christian beliefs
At an early age
She religiously drummed into me
‘blood is thicker than water’
Here I am today confused, lonely and hungry
No one protecting me
No home to go too
Just, peoples eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth mentality
Praying for the sun to shine
To feel some warmth again!
Sun rays of hope, lighting me up
To live through this darkness without fear
With a heart full of faith
No matter what happens to me, now!
If only I could drink my salty tears
It would sustain me for a lifetime
Your tears are worth nothing, around here
You’re classed as weak and venerable
Only attracting death
Your life worth nothing!
Save me from myself
I am my best friend
I am my worst enemy
My prayers and dreams
Lost in the wind
Blowing around like autumn leaves
The rain washing them away
Down the drain into the sewage
Rolling with the seasons
Year after year
Survival for the fittest!
Surviving on the love
Hidden, inside me
Being my strength and guide
My personal lifeline
In surviving this crazy world
We all live in
I haven't got to meet you,but from this picture I can see.
Just how wonderful you could be, and golly you look just like me.
I want to hold you, hug, and kiss you. I can't wait to see the day.
I may only have one picture, but I can't put the thing away!
I've been showing you to everyone, weather they want to look or not.
Even to strangers on the bus to school. I'm just so proud of what I got.
I pray to God your mother gives me a chance to be a good father to my boy.
Just to hold your picture, close to my face, sends me to a whole new world of joy.
I want to meet you! I love you! I just pray someday you'll see...
That I'm sorry things couldn't work out with your mother and I. You already mean the world
Once great always great I say to you.
Upside down or right side up you be.
Once upon a time and a time once was she.
Gathering the universe and shining a Star or two.
Then one day She shot down to Earth out of the blue.
She gathered Her crops and made circles wide and free.
She made them so big the whole of the world could see.
She took the Stars the Sun and Moon making them new.
She shined talents never quite seen.
Amazing and sparkling from up above,
She is the smartest thing ever so keen.
She is abundant in spreading Her love.
She is our Celestial Mother in Heaven,
Separated by the empty shells of leaven!
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007
Oh Great Woman of all Nature
Mother of our Divinely blessed, sacred Earth
Your beauty has kissed my lips
with the splendor of your clear, sapphire skies
The golden, moon bathed Sands
that are gently caressed
by your crystal blue clear flowing rivers
Your gentle rain that ascends from the Heavens above
to delicately soothe and blend
with tears that flow from the broken hearted
Your moist, emerald green hills
filled with enchanting, lovely flowers
of every elegant shade and hue
I have beheld the splendid beauty…
of your green weeping willow's gracious bows and limbs
of iridescent greens and golds
that whisper gently in your swaying, languid winds
I have witnessed golden eagles fly so gracious and free
in your pictorial, periwinkle blue skies
I've feasted my eyes on the sublime splendor
of your enchanting, golden harvest moon
as its elegant beauty paints a rose, gold, splendid image
so deep within my mind
All your violet-blue endless horizons
Your smoky, gray mountains so grand
in the rose blue cool light of dawn
Your chattering bird songs in skies of azure blue
The fragrant scent of amber gold pinecones
in the sparkle of the crystal clear early morning dew
I pay Ode’ to you Great Mother Nature
for every golden ray of sun that warmed my skin
that hangs brilliant and dazzling...
in your glorious skies of cerulean blue
In the fifties, my sister and I would play store;
selling ice cream and candy just like our grandpaw.
Granny let us delve into her spare button box
where we found the coins for our special cash drawer.
We sorted them all out by size and by color
marking some as quarters, nickels, pennies or dimes.
Imagination was the best of our playmates;
we even had half-dollars, the rarest of finds.
Last year we two met to go shopping just for fun;
can you guess what awaited me and my sister?
Brand-new buttons made of honest-to-God live coins.
We found all the reg’lar ones, but no half-dollar.
We giggled as we shopped, pretending like old times.
Strangest thing we discovered along with this find -
the penny buttons? no cheaper than the quarters.
The cost of the buttons did not match with their kind!
Last night I stood in the rain in my underwear.
I allowed the rain to be.
I didn’t run as a child would, laughing and loving the moment.
I didn’t shake myself and curse the wet weather as my Mother would.
Nor did I hurriedly open an umbrella in a vain effort to hide from it.
No...No...No...I let the rain be.
I stood there with gentle water dripping down my face.
I allowed the water to be.
I didn’t reach for a towel as my Mother always did.
I didn’t shake my head as a young girl might in the shower.
Nor did I quickly wipe the drops from my face with my hands.
No...No...No... I let the water be.
Something happened while I stood there soaking wet.
Some of the rain stopped at my mouth.
It was almost begging me to taste it.
I did not spit it out like an old woman might.
I did not wipe my mouth like young men do and cough.
Nor was I horrified by the rain on my lips.
No...No...No..The glorious rain allowed me to be.
leotard atrocities may
never have been led,
the path of glory…
had she not kissed the
air in alphabetical designs,
No, I cannot remember the moment life began for me in my mother’s womb: You know, a
brand new creation after leaving my father to stick to my mother for nine months, like would never happen again.
Neither can I remember when I traveled the birth canal to enter the world that awaited my presence. Actually, they were the wrong hands that I entered: the very ones that
disconnected me from my mother and slapped me on the bottoms to hear me say what was on my mind, just for that moment!
I do believe most of us have been there.
Well, here’s a bit more that we can agree on:
From there, life goes on….
or tired love?
and weak games
Look at you!
Your such a lame!
Me cry?! Ha! Not no more!
Five point five years
What a joke?!
All you do is lie
Keep smoking your life away!
Wake up before its too late!
Before this love turns into hate!
Your too old to act this way!
Your too comfortable
You cant stay!
In my life!
In my way!
Goodbye to you!!!
This Day, Was A Holy Day
As Crystal Drops Came Down
A Beautiful Display
And Soothing Sound
Like An Echo of Joyous Children
Or A Drum-Roll Softly Nearing
Or Like Angels Were Cheering …
That’s What … It Was Like Hearing !
And It Poured Like A Pitcher
Cool, and Smooth and Clean
Slanting On My Window
Inspiring Me To Sing:
- - - - - - -
“ Pitter-Patter, Pitter-Patter
Today … Nothing Is The Matter
Plop, Plop, Splatter, Splatter
Inside, We’re All Together
Washing Away Every Tear
Rinsing Away, Every Fear
Refreshing Every Year …
… Raindrops, Touched Our Dears “
- - - - - - -
This Day, Water Came In Streams
But No Thunder or Lightning Screams
Just Innocent, Wistful, Wet Dreams
And Later, Rainbow Gleams
(And Waiting For Tonight’s Moonbeams) …
Today … Was A Holy Day
As Crystal Drops Came Down
A Beautiful Display
And Soothing Sound …
It's like a weight lifted off of my heart;
I am no longer torn apart.
Thank God you are safe;
Everything is okay.
She left me in the empty darkness
So lost in the world I search for her,
An invisible force drags me to the forlorn eagle,
Both our chains bond together
And Eagle and I entwine our souls,
Thus we embark on our desperate journey,
We ascend over peaked rising mountains,
And failing White clouds,
Searching for the unknown piece,
That has chained us to the ground,
Gazing through his eyes in the sky, we see her,
We watch her nurture the flowers on the land,
So provoked we christen to her in the weightless air,
Sensing my voice she lifts her porcelain head,
Familiar of her smile I sense a separation commence,
Zooming in on her face I feel the knots tighten,
Disillusioned By the sight of her eyes,
There is nothing but despair,
And once again we ascend over peaked rising mountains,
And failing white Clouds,
Searching for that unknown piece,
That has chained us to the ground,
And fixated on the earth we spot her,
And once again we christen to her in the weightless air,
Discerning us in the Violet sky,
She Smiles and signals us to come,
The knots begin to loosen,
But as we progress closer I hear her call my name
Listening to her foreign voice I flee,
So distressed by this misconstrue event,
My hope begins to diminish with the clouds,
So we flee to the forgotten rock,
And sit on the rusted gray stone looking unto the sky
And watch history reveals itself through the stars,
And we travel back in time to obtain her,
We wish to feel her presence,
To touch her delicate soft skin,
And to have her hold us once more in her arms,
But as we search through time and space,
I cannot find one sole essence of her Existence
I'm very outgoing, yeah I talk to some girls,
but you got to understand, you're the queen of my world.
Honey, If I had the money, I would glitter your life.
I'd buy you diamond rings and I would make you my wife.
It's true, you've put me through, I'm stuck to you like super glue.
I just wouldn't know what I'd do without you as my boo!
I stand grand in this land, with you at my hand.
How can I make you understand that I'm forever your man?
You're like the leader of the band and I'm your number one fan!
You're totally fine, you're fun, crazy, sexy, and cool.
So glad you're mine, the one, that makes the other boys drool.
When I think about the times I brought a tear to your eye,
It makes me break down and cry. Sometimes I wish I would die.
Girl, you are my Angel. You were sent from above.
You saved me from this hell and filled my life up with love.
Where we'll go from here on out is a mystery to me,
but I know I'll be all right with you, always, next to me!
Its your Halloween rave, having your mascaraed
With all your best friends from back in the day
Liz Lauren and Blake and while they're dressed like skanks
I'm on the front line of battle
Howlin like jackle with A real nasty cackle
puttin a razor blade in the sack of Blake's apples
crack in Lauren's snapple
Staddle Liz like mclovin
But I am more like faghole As I babble at her ass
Axe her fast and mash her up like cattle
Sneak back and tackle your dad and put him in shackles
Shove sour patch kids Down your trap and gaggle
Its abominable, so unbelievable
But its inevitable, the end is kissable
I have rattled these kids psyches
squirming like a centipede, cutting them like celery
hear their squeamish screams echo in the streets
as the creepy bells of the chapel ring
I remain a mystery
You'll need nancy drew, and at least 3 of the hardee boys to find what I'm up to
Theres this gloom that looms down in your basement room
Consuming shrooms, enhaling fumes to escape your doom
Witches zoomin by on their brooms makin sonic booms
Quick call scooby doo, but I killed him too
You heard a loud pound cause I cut the fuse so you
Run away to a motel room, assuming your safe
And As you look the other way,
I got my fangs in your veins and stranglin your neck
Too bad you didn't text your friends to tell them who is next
Hmm let me think for a sec. As Hex your boy rex
with an incessant twitch, till he is dead in a ditch
Hang him from bunny man bridge
Yo dude turn the lights on
But there's no flip to switch , I have flipped the script
Its bewitched with no miss to kiss
Exorcist with no priest to dismiss the spirit
So the town clock strikes half past 3
There's one last gas before i must sleep
Or i will crash fast if the light touches me
Put on the mask jack, just like the sixth scream
I need to grasp havoc, till i hear shrills and shrieks
Please back rabbit, these chills aint for teens
As I stick a cherry bomb in your moms exhaust pipe
Run up on you with nine a knife, and the head of your wife
Its useless I'm the nuisance that's abusive yet conducive
To your fear that I am near So close I could whisper in your ear
Smell the shampoo in your hair Wipe the floor with your tears
And as you look up in the mirror
I'm there ready to smear your blood all over the chair
as I stab you with my spear I crush a coors beer then
Leave you re crops there dead, red spread on the floor
But I hear a knock on the door
Are you okay honey? "Yes mommy, just got a cold sore"
we getting older
stiil as the feeling
we both was reeling
you can bet
OLD AGE SEX
Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp
they helped to look for little Caylee,
in rugged woods, muddy lakes and ditches
endless days and nights, thousands searched
everywhere by foot, car, boat and air
in rugged woods, muddy lakes and ditches,
they tirelessly looked for signs of her--
everywhere by foot, car, boat and air;
hoping she had survived any danger
they tirelessly looked for signs of her,
while Caylee's family pleaded for her return,
hoping she had survived any danger--
until her mother confessed she had drown
while Caylee's family pleaded for her return,
endless days and nights, thousands searched;
until her mother confessed she had drown,
they helped to look for little Caylee
*FOR Pantoum CONTEST
As I grow older my memories become more veiled and sometimes lost.
But the best are yet to come as I write them down, of that I can’t ignore.
For my most cherished memories I’ll pass down, as the stories continue to stir.
Like the wonder I felt as a child… while sailing leaf boats down a creek.
Where would they end up? Would they find they’d sailed to foreign lands?
Or would they be defeated by the storms as they came rolling in?
Later I was awed by the thought that my future hubby would even talk to me.
We were so very bashful; that we were lucky, that we even came to be.
The trick was we were first friends…then, willing to hold together in the winds.
We became like one little leaf boat fighting together against the storms, again.
Then we became parents trying to raise our children with wonder in their eyes.
So we started by finding a creek where their leaf boats would be near, to find.
Eventually grown, they finally left us, so I sent them poems about those little boats.
Perhaps to help remind them: to start new memories for their brood, coming close.
Maybe even to remind them that life could still bring them wonders, too, once more.
Eventually, we will all sail away in one way or another, to distant shores.
I hope my poems will lead them, to where those wonders can still be found…
They will be able to find them by a creek with leaf boats floating around.
I hope it will bring them memories; again, of the days we held them so close.
And had read to them the stories… I had written for those, I love the most.
Every time you kiss my lips
I am drowning, I'm drowning
Like a never ending abyss
I am drowning, I'm drowning
Every time you whisper I miss you
I am drowning, I'm drowning
In your love, in your love.
Life doesn't seem dangerous
When I'm drowning, yeah I'm drowning
Don't take it so serious
Cause I'm drowning, yeah I'm drowning
I don't care what they think of us
Cause I'm drowning, yeah I'm drowning
In your love, in your love
~ Leonard Napierskie
The beat of Mother Nature’s heart is in a rhythmical pattern,
Echoing around the forest through the song of birds.
My hair sways with the gentle breeze,
And the glistening sun shines down upon me,
The screams of joy and happiness carry on through the field, until it reaches me.
And I find that life isn’t always about the sufferings of humanity
But it can be about simple things; the adrenaline that courses through a small child as
they run through the grass
And when you look at trees, you think of their age and what they’ve seen.
The knowledge that they must have is formidable,
Yet it’s comforting to know that something so silent, holds a thousand secrets.
Each leaf tells a story, and dies in the seasons.
For new children come with their tales to be made
And the birds that surround the branches sing in harmony with Mother Nature.
It’s here, in this moment, that I realise there is no God.
Mother Nature is purely a personification of a child’s innocence.
For we, humanity, are our own God.
And our holiness surrounds us, in every breath we take.
In every thought, and every image we capture.
A secret, to be told.
The Guardian of the Morning Light,
Creeps out of his little space warm and soft.
No one will waste that precious morning light.
Our little fur ball will see to that.
Oh ye of little sleep…
Give up the covers or ye will weep.
The door becomes his drums,
To announce the morning rays of the sun.
He wakes the dogs up to whine and pace,
Eventually they will lick our face.
The window curtains will begin to part till they…
Shower our faces and eyes with light… not soft.
Then the bed begins to shake…
As everyone begins the climb to our face.
But the secret weapons are about to come in.
The kitty has awoken the little children.
Cold feet assail us as they climb in place.
The dreams of a cuddle are now replaced…
But tomorrow will be another day
If I could only find a place to keep him at bay.
ZZZ’s are the treasure of days gone by…
But the future is richer with all these guys.
Now, if only, the Guardian of Light will be polite
And give us one more minute of sleepy respite…
Frozen in time,
captivated by this enormous being,
the size of a small car.
his every move.
The way he used his hands;
With all the consciousness of the world,
and graceless coordination.
of the visitors,
as they briefly called out for his attention.
Only for a moment,
then they were gone.
in an orderly sham.
He sat there,
in his dark cave.
As if he was waiting for the light to find him.
on a boulder,
squatting, and primitive.
Drawing in the dirt with one hand.
Swatting a fly with the other.
as he rushed to consume his food.
The females hovered behind him,
His movement mechanic.
His presence powerful.
He was the king of his domain.
his magnificence, I watched.
How smart was he?
Could he feel my presence?
Engulfed in the very essence of all that was him,
how he felt, I watched.
Did he think he was still in the womb of Mother Nature?
Or, did he know the iron bars which embrace him now?
our eyes met.
He noticed my presence.
His gaze intimidated me,
But I did not look away.
He approached me.
I felt his eyes inspecting my soul.
A chill ran down my back,
I turned behind me,
only to find no other presence there.
When I turned back,
we were face to face.
Separated by the sham,
And a two inch piece of glass.
Just me and him,
the two of us,
and the females hovering behind him.
His old eyes spoke to me,
“I am like you.
I love, I feel, I hurt.
I am, like you.”
I put my hand on the glass
and with all the
consciousness of the world,
he did the same.
With tears in my eyes,
Then, he pooped in his other hand
and wiped it on the glass.
This was a sign of endearment.
I laughed out loud.
And I swear,
He smiled back.
There once was a boy we called chase-face
he dreamed of reaching outer space.
With this dream in his heart
our family will part
and this boy we never could replace.
We all dreaded that day late in June
when we knew he would fly to the moon.
So a party we had
even though we were sad
as the countdown was scheduled for noon.
Chase couldn't get rid of the grin
or the drool that was right on his chin.
He was laughing so loud
while we stood watching proud.
His journey would finally begin.
The trip was a total success.
Of course, we expected no less.
We've done all we can.
He now is a man
and all that he sees he will bless.
In a blink of an eye
The angel appears on the sky
I see the innocence in her face
While she tries to fly with grace
A broken wing under a devil skin
Her face is full of lust and sin
She can not reach the sky again
She sinned so much she will remain
She is so perfect for this world
But she will stay, she gave her word
Even the Heaven closed its door
And let the girl sleep on my floor
No more wings and no more grace
She is a human in a place
A place of beauty, joy and sorrow
The girl won't stay until tomorrow
The gates of Hell have opened wide
To get the girl that sinned with pride
There she will pay for what she gave
Beauty, joy, sorrow and all with ave
But will she ever meet again
The one that crossed her path, the man?
Will she have the everything
Even though she has now nothing ?
But the memories remain
And they bring her joy and pain
She fought the war and she has won
And now she bears her unborn son
The gates of Hell await the muse
She wants not but she must choose
The being that she will gave birth
Will mum or she return to Earth ?
A soul has fallen from the sky
Born in a family, but born to die
Which one is she, the she or mum?
I do not know but she will come!
I do not know?
Watch me as I shoot across the midnight sky
Looking almost as beautiful as I am fast
I do my best to try not to die
But we both know that I cannot last
Flames and faith blazing as I go
Because I know that just up around the bend
Is forever somewhere that I do not know
Is forever somewhere near my sweetest friend
Is forever somewhere where I still love you so
and forever somewhere near my bitter end..
I Am MoonBeam
My Sisters, StarLights
My Brothers, SunRays
My Family of Heaven
My Mother, DawnSky
Father of Celestial Lights (James 1: 17)
Taught At Universe-High
By Father’s Master-Degree
And Mother’s Alma-Mater
Dine At Dimension-Table
In Our Galaxy
Our: Cambridge, Yale, Oxford and Harvard
Are: Comets, Orbits, and Asteroids
Black-Holes, Pulsars, Waves and Quarks
Red Giants and Red and Snow-White Dwarfs
Enlightened Astronomers, Radiant New Worlds
Time-Continuum, To Unfurl
And A Big, Blue Jewel, Freed From Cataclysm
Light-Years Away, From Today …
But Still Quenching Thirst, On Milky-Way
and Planetary-Rings and Eclipse
Satellites, and Soaring-Rocket-Ships
Atomics and Evenings-Scholarly
Lectures, On Pure-Energy
To Explore and Expand Brilliantly
‘Diplomas’ … thru Eternity
I Am MoonBeam
My Sisters, StarLights
My Brother, ‘Big’ SunRay
Shone-Academic-Bright ! …
So many things to do today
My goodness I’ve no time to play
The washing, ironing, then the tea
tomorrow I’ll have more time for me!
Just let me get the shopping done,
can’t stop now…I’m on the run
So many things to hide behind
If there’s nothing to do~
Something I’ll find
I’ll dig myself in so deep
even my min’s no time to sleep
I can’t slow down or stop you see
or I might come face to face with me!
Nestled among the trees in a primitive campsite,
A cub scout and his mother were on their third camp-out.
The tent was pitched; double foil wrapped food was cooked just right.
The young campfire cook gave his skills a great workout.
In the past they had stayed there several days at a time.
Driving through the forest just the mom and her young boy.
Thinking about those days brings back memories sublime.
It was a lot of work, but brought them so much joy.
Nights were spent listening to the serenading bullfrog.
At dawn, she photographed wildlife while he made bird-calls.
One morning when they came around the bend in the fog,
A long-necked majestic doe stood tall and enthralled.
The angle was such that she could not get a good shot.
So, she handed him her Cannon; he aimed, then, clicked.
It would be days prior to seeing the picture he got.
She and her son took pleasure in the woodlands frolicked.
In the hours of darkness they finished playing cards.
Their lantern was glowing; it was time to go to sleep.
Outside there was a whirring they could not disregard.
The mother turned out the light; whispered, “Don't make a peep!”
Her heart was pounding faster and her eyes opened wide.
She was afraid to move, but tried her best to be brave.
She unzipped the tent slowly and took a look outside.
The unlikely sight she saw gave her heart a shock wave.
Up in the sky was a circle of lights… humongous!
The outer ones were orange and the inner ones flashed white.
The sound was so loud that soon the boy became anxious.
With a quiet hush she said, “We're going to be alright.”
All she could think about was fear and their abduction.
Teenage daughters, not camping, needed her to survive.
She was so terrified her mind could hardly function.
There was nothing she could do to get out of there alive.
Would sharp-witted life forms from outer space understand?
She had no choice but try; inside she shed silent tears.
Begging aloud to the alien craft, words unplanned.
Daughters, with no one to tend them would struggle for years.
When she explained their situation, the noise ceased quickly.
She peeked outside again to see only stars in the sky.
He, now a man, was not allowed to look out…hazy.
She thanks God for the night the aliens went bye-bye.
© October 8, 2011
P.S. Years later, she saw the same craft in NASA space photos listed as something not
seen before…unidentified! When she went to show her husband, the picture had
Pitter Patter kitty's natter,
meow on the wall
eight to go after the fall-
what a whisker risk-er!
And such a minxy tinker!
The paws at the door
straight to the cupboard crumb
sneaky biscuits for the tum,
and into the hall a cry "Mum!-
What's for dinner?"
I have a disability I’ve had my whole life long.
My memory disappears whenever things go wrong,
My first memory was wondering where and who on earth was I.
And who were all the people that I did espy,
When we moved to our first house, it struck me yet again.
Thank goodness my brother came along on his bike just then.
My mother came outside, and looked familiar so I followed her within.
I actually thought that I was normal, when I was very small.
They took my hand when I went out, so it mattered not at all.
Ingrained habits kept me in the yard, with my friends, and at their knee.
I was such a quiet thoughtful child, they were happy to let me be.
Who am I and where am I, became my quiet refrain.
But I didn’t worry because they always there to call my name.
My parents never caught on, no not once, never at all…
I actually acted like everyone else when I was very small.
I looked normal to others so alone I had to carry on.
Then I went to ballet class, I studied so very hard… for oh so long.
The day of the recital I lost it all in front all where I wanted to belong.
My mother thought it stage fright, and finally took me from the throng.
What good was it doing, she thought, if I did not want to learn the dance?
And then I realized to live my life I’d have to work hard for every chance.
And if I had an argument with a friend, it was over oh so fast.
For the stress made me forget and my life became recast.
So if they didn’t come around for a while I didn’t really care.
Because I would soon forget they had ever even been there.
Eventually they would come back and my memory would come back.
Then off we’d go to play again as I studied how to avoid another attack.
When asked what I wanted to play, I’d smile at them you see…
And they’d be happy as I said, “whatever you want is ok with me.”
But do not think to pity me for my stubbornness is truly limitless.
After 12 and ½ years in college… I became for 30 years, a true Chemist.
I raised a son and held my own in a world that couldn’t understand me.
But with all those bouts of confusion the world still became my cup of tea.
Quiet, stubborn, hiding my pain, and with lots of daily notes…
Lots of time spent studying ways around my problems, I would devote…
My family had no pity, just the charge to get out there with mankind.
And here I am successful at 58, now with poetry on my mind.
As I recall my past, it was a sea kissed life
summers spent roaming the Rabbit Burrows
cradled by dunes, beyond Tramore strand
towels stretched out on Woodstown beach
soft powdered sand, surrounded by forest
adventures in the Saleens, daring quicksand
of swimming with dad, high jumping waves
falling, laughing in great gulps of salt water
free and fearless, in our bare bronzed years
It was a sea salted life of wave-washed castles
of tide pools, alive with translucent shrimps
carmine anemones sucked tight to the rocks
periwinkles, hermit crabs, a world of shells
baby pink crabs moving sideways over stone
textured algae, salted, crisping in the heat
our faces stinging with sand and hot sunshine
we spent hours with nets, exploring the pools
After months and years of living near the sea
the landscape became an essential part of me.
I saw fuchsia ballerinas pirouette the breeze
sea pinks, grassy rosettes swaying on cliff tops
rocket, tiny lilac petals with succulent leaves
valerian, a candy floss pink, sweetly scented
We picked them and pressed them into books
I recall my child’s life with a skipping heart
when summers seemed to shine eternal
The rock pools taught us to treasure nature
togetherness bred a strong sense of self
a respect for the sea, the taste of freedom
when I open a book, I often find a flower
and shells - this child is forever combing
Introduction: It’s a piece dedicated to the lullaby of a different kind. It’s something which has happened to many out there, but the experience is distinctively significant…
A priceless surprise, silenced all in its tune
By a soft heavenly cry, from the delivery room
Only a few hours was the night; so young
Where for the first time, she opened her eyes,
While by her side her dearly loved one
For the last time, closed her teary eyes
Father held her near and resounded to her cry;
But all mother could share was, this lullaby –
The long last beep from the ECG
Echoed her heartbeat…The last goodbye
Happiness and sadness broke through the night
With streams of tears for mother’s plight;
She never had the chance to hold her close
But left precious prayers that never left her side
As she came down to their hearts
Her soul flew up high apart,
The transfer of two lives through one,
Their journey was complete and done
Caught within that reverie
He conveyed the Azaan through her ears,
In the wake of such irony
He fell down to prostrate in tears
When all hopes seemed to end, father’s prayer did transcend
O’ Almighty became her closest friend and had for her a Grande plan,
Under HIS mercy and HIS guide, she flourished through the darkest nights
To a new beginning – she set off to write.
I do not know?
a precious girl
so young and free
came up to me
and told me what she wanted
i want to be a ballerina
but shhe didnt understand
her every wish was my great
that was years ago
and man o man
they went by so slow she hates
i know because its all she says
i told her to stick with it
She told me I'm full of shit
i told her to stick with her
but she just runs and screams
but on the stage
I can see her features change
into somthing new
they become bright
with a certain kind of light
and it reaches out to me
i wish i could describe
the way it makes me feel inside
its love that is unknown
and its my little girl all
THE WATERMELON THIEVES
Once when I was oh so young,
My mom decided she,
Would show us where some melons grew,
Beneath some large orange trees.
A farmer man she knew of,
Grew them there she said,
So folks would leave alone the fruit,
That grew above their head.
The melons were okay to take.
Just let the oranges be,
So off we went to pick some,
My mom, my sis and me.
I was only five years old,
So I sat in the car,
With Mama's friend who drove us there,
No light from moon or stars;
Because the orange trees blocked their light,
And I was sore afraid,
Because it was so dark in there,
Hidden in the glade.
Suddenly I saw my mom,
Running like the wind,
Right behind her came my sis,
A melon 'neath each limb.
Then in a flash my mom went down,
She tripped and broke her melons.
"Run Ruth, Run!" I heard her say,
They're runnin' and they're yellin'.
Mother! Wait! I heard Sis call,
For she had gone down too,
Stepped in a rotten one and fell,
They both were in a stew.
A flashlight beam then pierced the dark,
They made the car just barely;
And we took off just like a shot,
Took out the fence gate squarely.
We made it back home just past one.
They laughed until they cried.
I was so young I just sat there,
Agape with my eyes wide.
My mother had skinned both her shins,
My sister, she smelled funny,
Because that melon she stepped in,
Was rotten and real funky.
Some thought my mom as mothers go,
Not what you'd call high scoring,
But I can tell you life back home,
For sure was never boring.
FOR NATHAN D.'s - LET'S PUT A SMILE ON MY FACE CONTEST
Three flakes of snow fell on the village, there might
have been a few more, but those I saw landed on
the roof of the car and I saw them melt to droplets
of clear water. On each droplets a tiny rainbow and
my mother´s face when I called and asked for her to
throw down a sandwich with marge and sugar on.
She did, often- I´m not a football keeper- it landed in
the snow which was more than tiny flakes; so what!
Bread and sugar, I was hungry and fighting against
children who had invading our street. And when my
hands were frozen I came up warmed them by the stow
and remember how it hurts to get the circulation back
into my hands.
The shore is what I have seen since I was little
when I grew up it was so far in the distance to see.
Walking the distance when I was a child I was so brittle
to notice the path was so warn out to me.
The little strides I took was not so bad
it was just how it ended up when my mother had my hand.
She pointed out to the horizon to make me glad
that I could look out and see the sand.
The look in her eyes was so beautiful
it was one of those moments that can be captured.
My mother showed me the path and told me to be careful
to not worry about the pain she pictured.
The final walk up to get home was a bummer
because it was the sign that ended my time their.
My time at the beach and the sea was the end of summer
that is when I said, I will be back I swear.
The path might be warn more and more out
even when time passes and when I get older.
My memories of my mother and I will last with out a doubt
with time I get smarter and much bolder.
Between birth and death, is the lifedream most lead
when two parents soweed that loving seed
their elders cautions, they took no heed
a baby was born on umbilical lead.
A Mum to nurture, a Dad to protect
from their love was borne this project
a golden nugget, with love they did prospect.
But, so many people seem to think
after life, it's all down the sink
maybe why they live on the brink?
When you die, over, that's it
ooh, what a crock of...summit!
I've got a few things to say on it,
Walk through the door, there's so much more
make that wall take a fall
the things we all could be
lift societies veil on Reality
you are you, but also me!
Other side of this curtain, wait and see
it really is something else, all so differently.
Why is it hidden when we are alive?
when earthly bodies still survive,
we only see one side of the ride
the rest only appears, once you have died!
But it's not the end, just something else
many other life stories, yet to tell
when the soul and fresh body does gell
a new tale to yell
I'm so glad that wall, it fell.
Putting on my brand new skin
my old lives ashes in the bin
so much of life remains unseen
a lifetime of unconscious dream
the power is within you
deep down, you know it's true
there's Absolutely, nothing you can't do!!
The varied planes of existence
separated by a virtual distance
by what some deem, Realities curtains
But, Everything IS, of that i'm certain!!
Written for the Life and Death....and in between contest
A black queen knows how to handle her castle, her kingdom
Miss queen of the mile beautiful as she walks down the isle
A queen of the mere year coming and going
A black queen knows nothing of any slavery
A black queen of the wheather
A queen like no other
There are no rainy days in her world
A queen so great she is the sun, moon , stars, night, and day
I'm proud to say that queen is my MOM
I am aimed and directed for a shooting star.
In the midst of a collision I am traveling far.
Nothing can stop me for I am on a lifelong mission.
I’m timing the clocks and gaining some recognition.
I am in and out of reality stumbling onto a delusion.
Sometimes I want to run free and go into seclusion.
The wind tries to hinder me so I shew it to go away.
I stand on the Moon and make the Sun arise a new day.
I am looking down at a world that is misunderstood.
If I could have I would have and then again I should.
But that is neither here nor there so I will fair.
I have accumulated a bit and have much to share.
However, there is a cornerstone one can get stuck.
One must find the mother Star and hope for lady luck.
Once you find it you will be well on your way,
You’ll rise with the Sun and be brighter each day.
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2006
I have written about love and it loss
I have written about death and its cost
I have written about being free
I have written about me
I have written about almost every thing
I even wrote about spreading my wings
But the one thing I have not wrote about at all
Is this silly picture on my wall
He is funny looking and would make you laugh out loud
His little face turned up to the clouds
My little prince with candy on his chin
And a big ice cream cake grin
It was his first birthday
you my wall
tis love won't fall
for you've done
our love repect youwon
we won't say
happy mother day
that your better than the rest
YOUR THE BEST
I met a woman, fell in love
She was a gift from above
Soon she became my spouse
We gathered things and set up house.
Some things were new without a flaw
Some were hand me downs from Ma and Paw
For some we saved nickels in a can
Some were bought on the installment plan.
Children came – a total of four
Two boys – two girls- no need for more
We managed to provide room and board
Did the best we could afford.
We moved around from house to house
On an adventure – me and my spouse
Gathering things to which we would cling
But we rarely got rid of anything.
Tables, chairs, couches, and beds
Cabinets and shelves taller than our heads
Mugs, pictures, and bells we did collect
Mementoes and heirlooms on which to reflect.
A man gathers a lot in over fifty years
And remembers many of them with tears
Many a thing still fills my house
But it’s not a home without my spouse.
She has a room in a retirement home
Care is provided and she cannot roam
I dreamed one day we would be old timers
But I never figured on Alzheimer’s.
Now I have a house full of stuff
Too many things - more than enough
The time has come to downsize
To an apartment in the high rise.
My children came one by one
Went through my stuff until they were done
One takes this and another takes that
And managed to do so without a spat.
Giving things away is a lonely task
My irritability I cannot mask
Gathering things with my spouse
Was more fun than cleaning out house.
The Old House and the New Home
©2011 C. Brent Cloyd
I’ve lived in houses in the country side
There with my family I did abide
By the dust and gravel of a country road
Much pride was taken in our humble abode
I’ve lived in houses perched on a hill
Many of which are not standing still
They provided shelter in their time
Provoked memories that make life rhyme
I’ve lived in a house on a city street
Where the neighbors came out at night to meet
I’ve lived in houses made of wood and stone
On avenues where children could safely roam
I’ve lived in houses of mortar and brick
Where driveways were paved and the grass was thick
I’ve enjoyed houses far better than most
Where friends would come and I could serve as host
But my current house seems like a foreign land
Where everyone wants to lend me a hand
Living in this place is not my desire
Of this arrangement I easily tire
The time has come for me to leave
To this old house I will not cleave
I no longer want a cottage here below
To a fine home in heaven soon I will go.
I long not for a mansion or streets of gold
But just a place where I will never grow old
A place where pain and sadness are never more
Where happiness is found on every shore
I am eager, yes ready, to move out
To possess my new home with a shout!
The promised home Jesus went to prepare
Death please come quickly, I want to be there.
Meanwhile, our troop moved on down the trail.
One more bear episode needs be told.
We arrived at the next stop with out fail.
It was late evening and beginning to get cold.
Two of us went to the horse spring for a bath
And use the same one to clean our clothes.
As we left the spring we saw blocking our path.
A mother bear and two cubs, ...fear arose.
We hid behind a tree and watched them.
In our unlaced boots, carrying wet things.
As they walked up the path toward the rim.
We knew we couldn’t just appear threatening.
We slowly followed keeping the cubs in sight.
The mother had left the weanlings.
But reappeared on top of a bank on the right.
As she jumped we started yelling and arms flinging.
They ran, she ran, we gathered our stuff and we ran.
Yelling and flailing, we chased them past the adirondack
We...right behind, duck into it fast as we can
and tie the gate before they could come back.
Come back they did and playfully bite on the wire.
The boys were elated and good pictures taken,
To show their friends that none of us was a liar.
Bruce and I recovered after being so visibly shaken.
They finally left, and so came to a fitting end,
Our last bear episode and good laugh,
The other boys had at our expense and chagrin.
On the oldest boy and the “chief of staff”.
We hiked our last six miles with no major events.
Still time to glow for being a trail survivor.
Fontana resort awaited...hot showers, condiments
Then home...all slept soundly, except me... the driver.
© Mar 30 2010 Charles Henderson
Tiny flutters like tiny unfelt yet kicks
Little baby, a sweet mother’s bliss
A mother who can't wait to give the tiny you
Hugs and lots of kisses too
I dreamed last night of your tiny face
An angel indeed, made from God’s sweet embrace
A miracle that has come about
Ment as a gift from God too daddy and I no doubt
When everyone else thought it would never happen again
When our tear drops were falling like rain
We got the joyful news that you were due to come
I could feel my heart beating in my ears like a drum
I know that somehow you can now hear
Oh, what a thrill you will bring us here!
Now hush my baby, it’s time to rest
Inside my womb, your own calm nest
May God help me to keep you safe
And always keep you strong, I pray
I loved you before you were even conceived
And I love you more now that I have you
love your mommy
beneath coral depths reefbed
the mother of all pearls
Young Cowboy On The Battlefield
Remembered His Mama’s Words
‘Just Make It Home, Son …’
Her Voice Echoed, As He Heard …
Rapid-Fire and Revolution
Missiles, Right and Left
Bomb-Blasts and Confusion
… and Silent Tears, He’s Wept
… Every Day, A Minefield
Every Night, A Raid
Every Moment, A Terror
Trying to Make Him Afraid …
Any Second, A Horror
Of A Buddy, Laid To Rest
Every New Tomorrow
Wondering, What’s Next ?
The Cowboy On The Battlefield
Vigilant and Brave
Stood Ramrod Tall and Terse …
Looking At Her Grave …
‘Just Make It Home, Son … ‘
… Echoed Thru His Brain
‘Just Make It Home, Son …’
… Echoed Thru The Rain
And Just Before She Was Laid To Rest
She Said, ‘Just Make It Home, Son …’
And With Those Last Words, She Blessed,
And Said, ‘I’ll Be Waiting, When You Come …’
* * * *
… Old Cowboy, On The Battlefield
Remembers His Mama’s Words
‘Just Make It Home, Son …
… and We’ll Celebrate Our Return …
Of Note: In The Words Of A Lady Rocker,
Pat Benatar: ‘Love Is A Battlefield’
(but I Say, 'Life Is A Battlefield'
listen, my son, to your mother's advice
imagine what could happen
do not be caught napping
he comes early from some extended stays
son, do not be caught napping
with someone else's love
Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
we were taken again beyond the gates of katyn I'd begun to challenge morale feelings over a sudden stench bellowing from under the chartered tanks silence abroad Auschwitz my knees chattered while facing the cold damp window pane my heart nearly shattered non responsive I suppose I would remember small things like the empty clock that sat on the
night stand the coil spring the map to belzec replaced with dead dandelions comfort had become a
slow moving line as we awaited the hot brass to brand our pale skin softly I whispered why I must be next as the grunting hot breath crawled down my back my only solace was hidden inside the hem of rags I wore a passage read among Dante's most ravishing canto's oh how retchid the mere past times that wandered aimously about my arched form I'd remembered not to slump focusing on the Catholic medallion of st Francis clutching it within my raw fist full of sores and blisters how pretty I felt still while uniformed guards exposed the white letters s and p the special kind policing the line leading this morbid place I remembered my grandmother had gone before us and now an awakening sight sang out through this mist of fire breathing almost just beyond the palace my memory of stale sourdough bread and hot potato soup why I'd been here before clinging to life's treasures I'd carefully opened excepting the gravity and useless attempts of sparing the poor soul's behind me the line moved yet again screams filled thee earths air as though the sun had finally fallen into the ocean blue covering thy living flesh I'd spoken calmly while meaningless madness aroused my being over come with a past so very well known memories of my father and not of my own
Gale winds blew a contemptuous gust,
Churning up waves with a titanic thrust.
The ship known as Queen Anabellee,
Sails no more, resting on the bottom of the sea.
The sailors swore to batten-down their fear,
From mother nature's foulness to weather the frontier
Sirens known as scourge of the sea,
Hardened a heart to a sailor's plea
For a decade or so Queen Anabellee,
Eluded mother nature's assassin, the briny sea.
Hailed as the unsinkable, impenetrable ship,
Surrendered her reigning decade trip.
The spoils aboard Queen Anabellee,
Were pilfered below by the ravenous sea.
Adventurous sailors had been forewarned,
The rape of the sea, formidable when scorned
With assured stem dismissed the mighty gale,
Ventured forward and indeed set-sail.
The fickle sea with an impetuous wrath,
Ultimately sank her, in the well-sailed path.
The waters churned like a mighty whale
swallowing whole bow,stern and sail
The lesson for those like Queen Anabellee,
No one shall mock the vengeance of the sea.
Little children slip and get hurt sometimes, in their daily play.
Mine was worse than others… he’s All Boy they would always say.
Not a comforting thought… when my little love, would do it all again.
Frustrations and worries would mount, as to my own son, harm would come.
So I eventually became more than prepared for everything that came along.
He was more than daring, as he spread his wings, his will so strong.
At each event I’d remind him that safety, was the key word to know.
But I’d always find out later that he didn’t remember, what I’d bestowed.
So after that, every single time I’d always remind him of his very first cast.
The first was at 3 and ½ as he was running and playing, on the tumbling mats.
When of course he stumbled, 2 toes going north and 3 toes going south.
A cast was in order that lasted one whole week, before practically cracking in half.
The next was reinforced doubly to withstand a whole lot more, after that.
Next week brought another visit to fix a crumbling cast, once more.
It probably had nothing to do… with him hanging upside down on the jungle gym.
This time it was double, doubly reinforced and worked until everyone began to swim.
Even with three counselors watching, he found enough moisture to tear it apart
Finally at the end of 6 more weeks it was time for the crazy thing to come off.
The next day, you guessed, he tripped and for 3 more weeks they put the cast back
Now don’t you worry, it eventually, finally, truly did come off…
But next time, it was somewhere else… they soon had to put a new cast on.
The counselors were good and so very kind, and no one else got hurt, except mine.
Every one apologized, as he got hurt, but no one could ever stop him in time.
He was a crafty wild man great at evading, when his mind found the next target, to
And Fear wasn’t in his vocabulary, as he quickly and energetically, sallied forth.
I couldn’t blame anyone; of course, life for him was simply fuller, than for most.
We all simply gathered around to sign the new cast, each time his life went askew.
There was really very little else that we could do.
The moral to this story as I have often told...
Is to always be prepared for what life and little boys can bestow.
A is for apple her favourite food.
N is for nelly fortado her favourite singer.
G is for green her favourite colour.
E is for easter her favourite holiday.
L is for lilly her favourite flower.
Nature to its fullest
Is where all beauty lies
For flowers bloom and animals dance.
and I'm sure no one would say other wise.
I am one with nature
I will not lie
I hunt with the wolves
And sing with the birds
I dwell the dark forests
Where beauty is seen
A beam of light across the bright blooming narcissus flowers
Next to a large pond with silver fish gleaming in the water.
To this I ponder at what I see..
Why cant this be shared amongst us all?
My wonder is over when spot a panther in ivory black
Only to turn silver upon the moons brilliant light
Gleaming eyes turned towards me as i am doing the same
A single tint of sorrow in her eyes
For I see that she has but one cub, innocently playing with his mothers tail
For then I suspect that she lost all but one of her litter,
This is love of an animal with her cubs a loss that seems unbearable
Thus i think of every day society and am disgusted by those who kill their own
Just because of regret, how they put them in places to be left to die, to think about how
Painful it would be for an infant to die of starvation and thirst, a baby crying for love but
Unable to find it. then it dies, and the mother seems not to care... it sickens me to say how
This can be done.
But to most, i should add, morn for their baby's death,
And some cherish the arrival like peace on earth.
Why can't society become one?
Why must we endure such heartaches?
So many questions but not many answers,
But some should be left untold.
Mothers and fathers alike cherish birth like nothing better could happen.
Even as life gets harder, love is still the strongest emotion.
This is a poem of my opinion.
I hope to hear what your opinion is.
Give me a day
and let me go away
Let me find my way
Let me go astray
and learn my lessons
Let us part our ways
Let me leave your embrace
and feel the coldness of the world
Let me get lost
And recapture my footings back
Don't hold my hand
Let me topple and fall
Let me rise and gain my strength
Just like a cow lets its calf
I wanna stand on my own
Let me feel the cruelty of people
Let me learn to absorb their jealousy
Let me learn to make them smile
They will love me though it may take a while
Mother,am no longer a child
i can now tame the wild
Just pretend you no more care
And let me fight free and fair
Terrible two? or Normal ToT?
Rolling jumper; bouncing; kickeR?
Over head in the tree; what will you be? A dynamO?
Under the bed? Behind the door? Where are yoU?
Behave! be sweet! Yes I'll give your back a ruB.
Little boys are rough and tenderly tough as welL.
Everyday; Every second; a new adventure in LovE!
In a farm in the country
There was born one day
A kitten named curious
With a love to explore and play
While sitting by the pond one day
Curious saw another
A kitten just like himself
Perhaps it was a brother?
You see it was his shadow
But curious didn’t know
That when the sun was high above
His shadow was there below
So curious was none the wiser
And tried desperately to play
With the stranger in the water
That looked at him that day
He couldn’t reach this kitten
Although he really tried
He became frustrated
A let out a sudden cry
With one last inspiration
He took a giant leap
To catch this unknown in the pond
While landing on his feet
But in the water cold
He fell with quite alarm
To see the other kittens laughing
Along with animals in the farm
His mother pulled him from the water
And told him about the sun
Though he though he saw another
His shadow was the one
Curios felt silly
He let out a weep
For he was wet and soaking
His tears he could not keep
His mother gave a cuddle
As he had received a fright
“Learning is a wonderful thing
Even though you aren’t always right”
“So next time you are unsure
Please come and ask me why
And if I know ill tell you
So there is no need to sigh”
For life can sometimes trick you
And take you for a ride
But I will always be here
To tell you wrong from right
And so Curious still explored
And roamed the farm far and wide
But if he ever had a problem
In his mum he would confide.
I do not know?
The bird took off into the sky,
Spreading it's wings for flight.
A gentle breeze eased it higher,
Yet further from the ground.
The mother bird gazed on intently,
Protective of it's young.
The bird was gaining height so fast,
It's mum now a mere dot.
The older birds flew up above,
Swooping and diving for fun.
The bird looked down in anxious fear,
At the houses far below.
Never had it been so very high,
That people looked so small.
To him they were now tiny blobs,
Not bigger than him any more.
The breeze around him suddenly ceased,
And the bird started drifting down.
The people below were no longer blobs,
And his mother was entering view.
As he was swooping back down to the nest,
He took one last glance above.
Still the older birds were playing,
Not a single care in the world.
They hadn't to worry, they hadn't to work,
For they had already learnt to fly.
The day he was born was with excitement and fear,
Of what could become of those held so dear.
The first time we held him and looked in his face,
It was to see a glimmer of Gods True Holy Grace.
A hand so small touched deeply into our soul,
As it wrapped around a finger in a movement small.
We checked every part and in their perfection found bliss.
As in our hands we now held what was part her and part his.
The exquisitely peaceful face beckoned us close,
For nowhere else is pure innocence found in such repose.
As wee little eyes opened to momentarily stare,
We knew this was God’s gift given unto our care.
A smile was enough to encircle our heart,
As we vowed to protect him and never be apart.
He yawned and wiggled and fell back to sleep,
As we were made in his glory almost to weep.
We were once like this child so innocent and pure,
And our family held us like this you can be sure.
Growing up we slowly pull away while exploring the world,
Demanding every thing as the world is unfurled.
How could we have come so far from God’s Grace?
How could we have gone so far in the daily race?
This little gift of life pulls us back together again,
Binding us tightly as no one else can my friend.
Look to your parents and give them a hug,
Then nurture this gift from God’s love above.
Sunrise across the river, laughter going through my head,
I don't know what become of you, just a laugh away from,
Some of the things you said. I can hear the river roar.
Rocky mountain river, saw through a vocal score.
Late mournings hours with only the days heat to gain,
Watching, listening to Mother Earth play her games.
Seeing the day before me, remembering you this way,
Calms my upset unsettled thoughts that started my day.
I had lost you in my head, n day by day went without u,
I had it all n to myself, big, and all of the above, I was living a
Dangrous life but thts wht I wanted.
On my knees n looking at the grass a glock in the back of my
head n the guy behind the gun, willing
To do whatever it took to be the best, "ur time is up, u knw how
it is right just is wht it is",
"No!!!!!" One of the biggest n loudest with a echo scream I
heared, my mom, scared the guy n shoot me in the back, right
lung my mother hold me in her arms 30 mins waiting for the
ambulance, i was in n out hearing her talking to me praying n
asking for help words bearly would come out,
"It's time to clear things out n get things out of the way with
god, he'll judge if i stay or go with him, please mom stop crying
One full month in the hospital critical conditions only woke up
5 times n always she was there no matter wht she wanted to be
"You don't learn do you?" My mom said laying on the sofa
"I'll be back, have to take care of one thing" I replied
"We all have a mother just keep tht in mind".
On ur knees, u got anything to say? As I had a glock in the back
of the head of the one who shoot me.
"I should of killed u n now its my lost." He told me
"U have a mother?" I asked
"Screw u." He replied
" go to ur mother n thnk her because of her ill let u live."
Mother asleep with a tear, kissed her forhead.
I couldn't do it becuase i don't want a mother to suffer wht my
mother passed through.
OH LAND OF AETHIOPIA
OH LAND OF ABYSSINIA
OH LAND OF SHEBA
OH LAND OF ABESHA
Honor thy glory,thou hast braved servants.
Grace hath thy patriot,ye pride oh thee
Glory ye excellence,prime mover oh thee.
Let thee alma mater flourish
Thou hast union,not diminish.
Hoy! One Country
Equipped with love and bravery.
Shine as one,thy works of ye weaver
Light up freedom,always and forever.
Let ye glory conquer and gleam thy illusion
Exalt thy Aethiops liberty,save us from confusion.
Hoy! Thy kingdom
Hoy! Thy Queendom
Hoy! Thy Cradle
Thy freedom within martyrdom
Thy glory within liondom.
Laureate liberty,laureate light
Thou shalt be ye merit ,insight within insight.
Freedom Alpha liberty Omega
Liberty Alpha freedom Omega
Love Alpha, love Omega.
Liberty in freedom,freedom in liberty
Unity in alma,mater in unity.
YE MILLENIUM ALMA!
YE MILLENIUM MATER!
YE MILLENIUM ALMA!
YE MILLENIUM MATER!
YE MILLENIUM AFRICA!
Every boy has his toys,
and each girl her dolls;
and as they grow they are put away where light can't enter:
there in that closet, which often memory recalls
how delightful and merry their days were,
but wishing for a return is a constant, useless prayer...
Everyone once had the possessions of a younger age,
some were precious and memorable, others simply painful and vacant;
and who can remember being hugged and truly loved by all?
Many still reminisce the sad thought of having been offered none at all,
and how they longed to have felt a little, sweet taste!
Nobody desired that more than I did, and only mother provided that!
Blue-bells seemed blither than I.. colored flowers that have no feel,
no soul to express their joy or sorrow, had I become like them?
Larks and mockingbirds weren't as malcontent as I was indeed;
all they wished for was some rain and the quietest place to rest!
Oh, how much sympathy I felt...with no one loving them, but their Creator;
and my circumstances affirmed how true that really was for me to declare!
An evil doer can be a father, who denies his children profound affection;
malice or thoughtlessness scars the hearts of the tender ones,
to become a malady or blight that leaves many fragments of broken lives;
and shouldn't someone grab them by the scruff of their necks,
and put some sense into them when they intentionally induce pain?
This snarl...rebelled at such atrocity, although no slaps could prevent those tries!
Husbands love your wives devotedly,
mistresses are the cause of your adultery;
would the faithful ones pursue an extramarital affair?
And what are the consequences of your sin and surliness?
A curse from God for many generations,
to deny your little ones the possessions of a younger age!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
1946 the warmest May ever in Norway, mother went camping
with her lover on an island. I was 8 and could boil potatoes and
look after myself, but evenings that had no darkness was long,
and this was before TV. A big war had just ended; mother was
free to be young. I was reading a travel book “Argentina” when
mother came back a bit earlier than planned, she looked radiant
and sun tanned. She spoke excitedly about fishing for crabs at
midnight boiling and eating them warm. I think she came home
feeling guilty for leaving. When she had spoken I continued to
read the book about the pampas of Argentine. She could not bring
herself to say she had missed me, and I was unable to tell her how
much I missed her... Next morning she went back to the island and
I boiled potatoes and ate them with tinned sardines and continued
to read books about great adventures.
When Invisi- Girl was very young,
She was not worth stopping,
She would always end up spying or snooping,
And even a little eaves-dropping.
She would always be punished, punished harshly,
For listening in on others,
Yet even though she would punish her,
Invisi-Girl still loved her mother.
One tragic day, her mother died,
And her father was devastated,
But when her father decided to remarry,
Invisi-Girl was not elated.
One frightening day,
her step-mother said,
"Give me all your money,
Or you will be dead."
Invisi-Girl's father tried to help,
Her father tried to stop her,
But then the wife accidentally shot him,
When she meant to shoot her,
Invisi-Girl lived a horrible life,
Ever since the day her father died,
She waited on her step-mother hand and foot,
And would always let out a good cry.
The day Invisi-Girl had her twentieth birthday,
her powers she did discover,
Invisi-Girl could vanish into thin air,
And best of all she could hover.
One day she decided to make a plan,
One that her step-mother would not expect,
This expert plan would be only one,
That Invisi-Girl could detect.
ONe day Invisi-Girl used her powers,
And her step-mom she did destroy,
She finally restored the family's treasures,
And brought herself inner joy.
Voyagers, convene thyselves to return, among us...
Caesura, crown nigh clod, a sylph unwept,
elision thy silhouette, meno thy minuet...
Thine late occurence on thee, wake of cerise sand
Thou belief, like a billow, upon your whitish cheek,
'Twas marina bay, her twaddle a garb of mer,
A henchman docks, thy quay, girdles stymie ebbs,
but he cannot dream aloft a dream she confers...
O'er to woo hand in hand, thou overture unto Sirocco,
Plagues thy pirate ships, quakes men with mar,
His and his only demand, an aegis for lagoons amidst...
Once deluged, sun askew above, one abyss of bagatelles
Deters a tocsin, feign mooting mammals, thy kin a boon,
Aquatica, thee damsel for diminuendos, spurns thy sire,
Her gentle mettle, calls thee, His fervor season calentures...
Aloof thy celestial kisser, nay thy nine, vim domiciles solitary
Doomed skulls ravish, an age id by ice, culls thee, for chastity,
Some may not know, we died to have our love live, over and again,
Amity vows posy littoral seaflowers, buoys colonnades of adventure...
thence, cradles await upon matins, sail thy Oceanus genesis, amen.
This is the second response to The Wolf Man - The End
The Wolf Man (The End)
The young girl, Alice Grimm, was pretty and slim
She stayed with her grandmother who lived, deep, in the woods
Her coat of wool kept her warm on cold nights
All of her white jackets had to have loose-fitting hoods
“Alice, where you going?” “To play on the swings.”
She would say to her ‘gammie’ but it was all lies
Still she played it safe, stuffed a knife in her cape
As she made her long trek to where the mother goose flies
But deep in the forest the man-wolf he sniffed
Her scent was intoxicating he ran at full-speed
Little did he know that she knew about her rights
If she couldn’t kill the beast, at least, she’d make him bleed…
The wolf man, once a man, couldn’t understand
Why this bloodlust came over him, it drove him quite mad
As he got closer he could hear her heartbeat
She wasn’t mad, or sad, or frightened, but glad
His was going crazy his thoughts were hazy
The man, introverting, the animal, extroverting
He could see her ahead, he was seeing red
As his paws hit the ground he saw her blood, spurting
She knew he was coming, she began to hum
He leapt into the air as she withdrew the kitchen knife
She slashed at his throat, he fell to the ground
“I’ll be damned if some man-beast is gonna take my life!”
Carving off the man pelt she stuffed it in her belt
She took off her coat and dipped it in his sangria
She became known as Little Red Riding Hood
When she got home her Gammie screamed, “Mama mia!
You have ruined that coat! I’ll rip out your throat!”
“I don’t think so, woman, go and chill out!
Or I will do to you what I did to the wolf man
You’ll be nothing as I knock you about
Go and sew yourself things with the wolf man’s skin
Meanwhile, I’ll make a meal for us using his meat.”
The moral to this is: Be aware of your opponent.
She, or he, may not be big but they own the whole street!
The healer strove to mark the place
to walk with heart in hand.
She placed her foot upon the path
and walked ‘pon ochre sand.
Her head was high, her gaze direct
the path before her steep;
to her goal with chattering teeth
the healer’s eyes did keep.
She went within the darkness deep,
earth's core she did explore;
with heart hearth lit and good intent
she visited earth's core.
The Mother had oft seen her there
and gifted her each day,
with lava, light, and wet warmth
the Mother watched her play.
Still, now the healer knew the truth,
a truth she must absorb.
Father lived in hearths held on high,
He was another force.
And, if the healer was to grow
help others come this way
she must go forth, rise, absorb
the upper light displayed.
With trembling lips and fearful sighs
on she purposefully strode,
this child of clay, of lava formed,
to Father’s bright abode.
And, as she rose above the clouds
into the firmament
she lost her shape, as child of earth
gained oneness in ascent.
No boundaries now held her form
except His loving grace,
this cherished child of mud, of clay;
she took her solemn place.
“Light or Dark, neither good nor bad,”
a choice the Father said.
a place for all, a purpose too
and lessons learned instead.
So, the healer turned to earth
upon that golden day.
She’d learned the joy of dark and light
found wholeness, in this way.
He left home to pursue his lifetime dream,
it was closer to midnight and the foggy moon had no gleam;
I saw him rushing out to the taxi-cab by dragging his luggage,
all the while he thought he could manage.
His name was Glen, six feet tall with light brown hair...
the handsomest guy in town with elegance and flair;
he drove all the girls crazy, but sad was to see him go...
they all waited for him outside as he fled into tomorrow.
He worked for a law firm in downtown Manhattan,
and won many cases getting him lots of praises;
he bought a Lamburghini and was considered the toast of town,
but to keep up his status quo he needed more money to pay those bills.
Alaska was his destination, no big deal for a white man
used to cold weather and hard work anywhere he went;
stereotype or not he was proud and really wanted that job,
but going out to sea and catch fish wasn't somehow odd?
Glen spent two years in the land of coyotes and bears,
too often he got frostbite for not covering his ears;
his fair skin turned red, his green eyes teared...
as he remembered all the things his mother feared.
Money kept coming in, but his health wasn't as vibrant...
he coughed a lot and sneezed when the harsh Nordic wind blew
as he dreamed of his warm home while mom cooked beef stew;
many thoughts ran through his depressed mind, once so jubilant.
On May eleven of two thousand ten when the Northern Sea didn't rage,
he received a text message, " Mother is sick, hurry home. "
He changed his work clothes, took a shower and went to Anchorage
to take the next plane to New York City as noise harmed his lobe.
By her hospital bed, he stood holding her cold hand,
and he wept not able to hold back his tears,
" I am back, mom...I'll make up for those lost years. "
She squeezed his rough hand, then suddenly expired.
Birthdays come but once a year
A day we celebrate, a day to cheer
We all know the day we're born and our age
For birthdays bring us joy or change of stage
The day I celebrated my fourty-ninth year
On the other side of the world fear
Horror for a young girl named Heather
Who was swimming in ocean waters from boat tethered
Swimming around the ocean deep
Working up an appetitate for something to eat
Was a great white shark fourteen feet, whopper
Jaws powerful enough to bite through copper
At home I thought I had turned fifty
I figured this year would be very nifty
My father who was in his nineties
Reminded me that I was only fourty-ninty
In a land way down yonder
A girl named Heather was pulled under
Great white figured she was good meat
Nice and tender a very tasty treat
A girl named Heather was saved
That very day lived to be one to praise
People who worked to keep her alive
She praised God who lives in hearts and on high
Sara lived many years
Saw her grandsons through tears
She was the strength and glue
Who saw her family's problems through
Just in recent years in a land down under
A fourteen foot great white shark did blunder
Caught in a fisherman's net
He'll probably live this mistake regret
No, the fisherman cuts the lines
Frees his catch and shark from bind
Now the shark he named Cindy
Follows him around even when windy
Follows him everywhere he goes
Let's him pet her on her nose
Rub her belly and dorsal fin
She even grunts and tries to grin
Which of these do you think is the most grateful
Heather who is now disable
The shark who was spared his life
Or Sara the mother, grandmother, and wife
(The story about Heather is true. The shark circled and bit her right leg. Then circled and
grabbed her left leg. The people on the boat were hitting the shark and try to pull her into
the boat and the shark took her whole left leg off. She was only attended by a nurse who
was on the boat and radioed a doctor on shore as to what to do. She was 20 hours away
from the nearest doctor. She was lifeflighted to a hospital in California where she had to
have multiple surgeries and now has an artificial leg. The story about the shark caught in
a fisherman's net was really not true. The grandmother here was a true story.)
We only craved a toddy
something frosty in a glass
And then she came in sideways
all eyes were on the lass
We giggled from our corner
she put on quiet a show
She acted like she knew us
though how we didn't know
She waved and yelled a hello cheer
across the room she ran
She fell upon my sidekick
and grabbed her by the hand
" I disappointed Mama"
she whispered through the tears
I thought about my own Mom
now getting on in years
Her story wasn't new to us
we had heard it all before
In fact sometimes was our tale too
a time or three or more
She said "God he brought me to you
can you help me find the way?"
"I've been straight a long long time
until I failed today."
We promised her that life is hard
and filled with lows and highs
Disappointment finds us each in turn
the bold.. the meek.. the wise..
We told the lass to raise her head
forgive herself and smile
Temptation lures us each at times
it surely can beguile
She begged us not to hate her
before we parted ways
I know my thoughts will dwell with her
for days and weeks and days
We only craved a toddy
something frosty in a glass
And then she came in sideways
Heartbroken little lass....
As the memory drifts in again
Capturing the richness of love.
Reminiscence my heart did win.
Visits with grandmother, beloved.
Capturing the richness of love.
We, arm in arm, adventure bound.
Visits with grandmother, beloved.
Two on a train ride to a nearby town.
We, arm in arm, adventure bound.
The day trip grandmother had planned.
Two on a train ride to a nearby town.
The picnic basket was in her hand.
The day trip grandmother had planned.
She and I together, enjoyed the park.
The picnic basket was in her hand.
We stayed and played ‘til almost dark
She and I together, enjoyed the park.
It was the first train ride we two shared.
We stayed and played ‘til almost dark
It was special; I knew she cared.
It was the first train ride we two shared.
On the way back, we had our own room.
It was special; I knew she cared.
Lullabies, whistles, and sounds from the train…zoom!
It was the first train ride we two shared.
Reminiscence my heart did win.
It was special; I knew she cared.
As the memory drifts in again
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 24, 2010
Dedicated to one of my two wonderful grandmothers... They both live on in my heart.
I was barely nine or ten beginning to feel emotion
when I started to run as if chasing a balloon
flying towards the widest ocean
of deep blue with clouds drifting by too impossible to reach...
while my memory recalled another, peaceful noon
spent on the quitest, prettiest beach.
I walked and stomped on jellyfish
thinking they would sting me first;
mama constantly warned me to keep away from them,
and ignoring it, I kept on burying then in the hot sand,
but mom yelled, " Son, you are a cruel boy...you think they don't hurt,
these are creatures of the sea surviving in tough waters since birth."
I nodded with that expression of boyish innocence suffocating a scream,
making believe to obey and defiantly planning a scheme
that would have made her cring and running towards the widest ocean,
I fell into the prestine sand I screamed as if I were in extreme pain.
" Mom, they have stung me! Take them back into the water!
Poor mama, she fell for my scheme getting up from her confortable chair!
Enered in Francine Robert's contest,
" Blue On Blue On Blue "
oh the weather outside is frightful
and having snowball fights were so delightful
getting hit in the butt and head
then laughing cause you start seeing red
hooking on car bumpers for a little ride
wearing tennis shoes we did slip and slide
mama yelling to get off or you'll be dead
we never listened to what she had said
socks for gloves to keep little hands warm
even amidst a blizzards storm
soaked from head to foot
looking like santa's outfit full of soot
but what I remember about fun the most
was waiting for mama's hot coco and apple butter toast
on that speical Christmas morning day
before the Lord had came and taken her away
Happy Holidays All
Love Kathy And Jenny
Also Entry For
Holiday Songs In Poem Form
He can drive me crazy
Sometimes he is so lazy
He is disrespectful and rude
Never get enough food
He is thirteen
A high strung eating machine
However He is also my baby boy
At night he still sleeps with his stuffed toy
So yes sometimes I am lost and scared
Cause with a teenager my life is shared
But I will do what all moms do
Put up with the teenager who should by all rights live at the zoo
If you have one you know what I am saying is true
If not than lucky for you
And those moms with little one beware
The teenage years have to be handled with care
You will go crazy with worry and stress be put to the test
And you will have days that are the best
Just remember that they are still your little angels
Just now they have horns to hold up their halos
But do not let me scare you please do not despair
They do make great coloring for the gray in your hair
But don't think when nineteen hits you are though
I am thirty four my mom says I give her gray too
I had the traits of a gorgeous child,
different in looks and behavior,
only mother understood his tremor...
when night fell and he ran inside.
An adorable child expressing curiosity,
touching everything in his path,
and those hands seemed full of creativity...
when visions lured his interest.
I hold this photograph to reminisce the grace
of that tiny toddler beginning his first, memorable race...
while his mom stretched her protective and loving arms,
ready to hug him and reward him with tons of smiles.
I had the traits of a gorgeous child,
obsorbing the vivid images and colors of the seasonal scenes...
I'd describe in my writings, to feel the essence of unreal dreams;
Oh, was I aware of my final stride?
Go to sleep...little boy
when you wake, night will be gone
don't you fret, no more tears
just listen to my song
dream of ice cream cones and lollipops
bright red fire trucks and spinning tops
and a carousel that never stops
and may all your dreams come true
dream of dinosaurs and sailing ships
frosted candy canes and chocolate chips
dream of mommy's kisses on your lips
happy ,happy dreams to you
close your eyes, love of mine
close your eyes and drift away
may the lord guide your dreams
by your side he will always stay
dream of rocket ships and shooting stars
magic carpet rides and lands afar
and remember wherever you are
that is where I'll be too
dream of dinosaurs and sailing ships
frosted candy canes and chocolate chips
dream of mommy's kisses on your lips
happy happy dreams to you.
Boy into the West
Dawn upon my cloak
Urged and so converged were the guns
Seeding myself with the rest
I broke in the eye of the Sun
Settling my mind on the heartless rapist. Time
Rasterize the faces
So thumb through the annals
Purged and so emerged fleshy etchings of this child
Breast wheels churn uncertainly
Moistened embers dance to the deafening drum
Tidal ducts offer piquant waters of the Pacific coffer
I arrive on the sands
Hole in the Wall
Deserted in this mind
Hover in and now behind
Stare blank up through the ceiling stucco
Gathering in the stench of ghastly breath of wine
The New Year clothes itself topside
Unfashionable walls crush youthful spirit I drink alone, until morning
Demons of mine in lethargy
Gnawed and sluggish slivers bond my illness
Horizons of hues of shapes the girl knowing
Waking sweat cools slyly treats itself to my tongue
Warmth of girl takes my breath save the end of I prepare
God, are you there?
All in the deflection
Though his reflection isn't mine
Blood in kind of brotherly loving spiteful me
We close our doors of aid restraining love I have
For angry boys reject the angry drudge
Slave to a toilsome loving grudge
It is raining erosion
Why in my hands I can't see you yet
My rock there I can’t see her stand
These matters wash away too comfortably
I the destined rock
To erode on as grain of sand
Facing the Crow
Give to the death
Long confronting his road
Gurge open those words she once clung on
Hung from the rope he dove to the end
I die decay per diem death
Metaling her heart on his mindless last breath
I survive only by his hand...
A year ago, wow that did go fast
One of my dreams, did come true at last.
Up on that stage, it wasn't a game
Did I hear right, they just called my name?
Our Melon queen, her name was Heather
Now come parades, wtih all the weather.
Some would be cold, and some would be hot
No matter what, I would speak a lot.
The tears of joy, they ran down my face
It happened quick, I felt my heart race.
I looked at mom, then glanced at my dad
So filled with pride, the grins they both had.
Dad cleaned the float, and he packed the car
Knowing we had, to drive pretty far.
Rushing around, I'd hear my mom say
"Heather come on, we've got a long way".
Waking early, and pulling the float
I can't forget, my blanket and coat.
The wind and rain, could last quite a while
I'd always wave, and give them a smile.
The teas we had, the friends that I made
This whole past year, I would never trade.
Always helping, were my mom and dad
Giving it up, I feel quite sad.
When they are little they make such a mess
Then they get big and cause such stress
Why do we love them so much one might ask
Because they love us and need us I guess is the task
They are bright and playful and so much fun
It is like spending your day in the sun
Always changing and learning something new
Time fly by as they do what they do
From new born to adult hood in a blink of a eye
Like watching the clouds fill the sky
What will they become when they are grown
What seeds will flower once they are sown
Will they be okay alone out there
Your heart will despair
You will teach them all that you know and can
Then you will let them be a man
It is our job as mothers to cry and scream
It is our hopes and our dreams
To see our little boys grow to perfection
Under our loving protection
But sometimes I wonder if I can pass this test
All I can do is hope for the best
My boys are half way up the ladder now
But some times I wonder if I will know how
To let them go into this big world alone
I just hope they remember what they have been shone
Since the day I brought them home with tears in my eyes
My Darin boys have made me sigh
Over any man who feels lost without love
God gives women divine powers.
They can break our hearts or deflate our ego
And cause us to buy diamonds and flowers.
They have compelled kings and presidents to beg
Wild singles to commit to change their way.
Loving us with pleasures problematic to replace
With flashbacks of their passion night and day.
Women mother our babies who we love till death
For us to raise, protect and provide for.
They contribute revenue, affection and direction
With love, companionship and more.
They insist we never abuse or disgrace them
Cheat, lie or take their love for granted.
Which helps us to become more than we are
In love and totally enchanted.
By Tom Zart
Doors open, door closes
Laughter echo's from behind
Look behind I see little eye's staring back.
Mommy, the little voice call's out
hand reaching out from the door.
hiding with laughter
I look around
pretending that I don't see him
jumping out from his hiding place
His eye's are full of love it's
u my son. I love u.
Peek-a-boo to you too.
and 'Ladies' young and old
do you even know
when i go into the grocery store
and how they come all around me
not even paying attention
as they watch me squeeze this and
and they being all that you are
some what more and some few less
take my hand and place it there
and in my hand they squeeze it
they squeeze it harder than they should
but i'm not paying attention
and as i'm thinking about squeezing
that which needs to be squeezed
in my mind i am squeezing it more
and watching some become flushed
there faces grow dark and pink
and so many my head spins around
looking down as i feel
all of that juice run free
through my hands
and all of my critical thinking
has left me it's gone.
Is It Poetry
It is hunting season in the mist of beauty and delight
In the thick of the trees, sounds of shooting, deer run in fright
Some grow weak are taken by man
Others search for safety somewhere in their land
A little fawn tumbles in fear, mother lost to the hunters dance
Not knowing where to go, suddenly, a light from his side way glance
He stumbles up on his feet, so confused, sadden and in fear
Heads toward the light with wonder, unaware of what is near
Hope in his little heart as he runs into a horrible surprise
Headlights in his face, breaks squeal, to his near demise
As he opens his heavy eyes, breathless and so unaware
Unable to move he shivers, to taillights of someone who cares
This angel who was approaching the near dead fawn
Was speaking to him with a soft voice as she put him on the lawn
She spoke to him with love, made him feel so safe
Hold on there beautiful baby I will help you find your place
He could feel his heartbeat grow weak as she stroked his little head
With tears in her eyes she spoke to God, this is what she said
Please lord it is my desire to save your wonderful creation
Give him breath, heal him please, it is not his destination
Her tears fell on his face, warmth he could feel once more
His breath along with his heartbeat, strong like it was before
Strength was back in him, to his feet he did arise
He kissed the beautiful angel, for she saved him from demise
He headed for the woods, then suddenly he veered
He turned to look again, the angel disappeared
Saddened once more alone again was he
The horrifying noises gone, now silence, how could this be
He entered in the woods his mother alive, back on her feet
Happily he trotted to her, his heart just skipped a beat
Not only did the angel save him, from something bad
But all was back to normal in his home with mom and dad!!
reflections of joy
beckon my heart gently home~
pure love rests rocking
I do not know?
Me and my mom sit all alone
as she hums a very slow tone
i close my eyes as i dream of life
and what i will be a girl or a wife
as i drame of what i will be
i thought of when she sets me free
i think of what will happen today
i will always be a step away
i dream what could really last
this beautiful world goes by so fast
i open my eyes to find it right
the answer was as plain as sight
it was my mom and what she will be
because at the time i was only three
messy at midnight
wails call me from sandman's realm~
I welcome the change
Ten little fingers,ten little toes,
Tiny little eyes,and a cute little nose.
A little movement here,and a little kick there,
A sweet and tiny being,so handle me with care.
I know your feeling bigger,and I'm really truelly sorry,
Not long now,i'll be with you soon,so you don't have to worry.
Now don't forget to feed me,and I'd like a drink also,
I know we'll make it,just give it a while,and then we'll have to go.
I hope you got the nappies,and the powder and the cream,
I'm not particuarilly fussy,as long as it's not vasoline.
I really like the blue colour,the pink is pretty too,
I guess it's not my choice yet though,I know it's up to you.
A furry little bunny,or a cuddly teddy bear,
A bottle and a dummy,I'm sure that just seems fair.
Now don't forget to be ready,I'll try to let you know,
When I'm tired of this little cubby,cause then it's time to go.
Don't let those people hurt me,I'll do the best I can,
To come when you are ready,and the pain you cannot stand.
A few more pains,a push or two,or maybe three or four,
A little bit of ice and water,and then maybe even some more.
Oops,I think I'm ready,it's crowded now in here,
Just one more push,now don't be scared,there's nothing here to fear.
Aah,that's better,here I am,it feels so good outside,
I might even hang around a bit,as there's nowhere left to hide.
By Sharon.L.Leonard. 23rd,October,2007.
Dear friend ,
The world means nothing.
Its set in flames.
Even worse we roam with cold hearts trying to look the part,
in this guilded age.
This is something I wish not to be a part of.
I no longer want to be another soul endlessly making
contact with sole and pavement.
I'm striving for abatement.
For meaning I've always looked at dictionaries.
For significance we've always looked at actions.
So please do take another look and see what this letter is for.
Our education is supposed to be priceless, yet we can't afford it.
Our outlook on life is supposed to be uplifting , yet our vision is always distorted.
Our struggle is supposed to be significant , than why is it our stories won't be recorded?
Does this not trouble you my friend?
We complain about being second rate citizens yet there are those who don't live
but attempt to survive in their homes that are assigned in third world countries since before birth.
Where is the justice if the hearts are starting to turn into just ice?
Wheres the justice if a benevolent man was robbed of their life?
Where's the justice in this non-sense?
I can't see it . All I see is us bracing for a cruel consequence.
Pardon me if I trouble you with the questions you can't answer.
But i've outweighed the pros and the cons of this situation.
I no longer wish to to be just another number in this logorithm of lies.
I no longer wish to be a variable with no value of his own.
I wish to become the variable that comprehends the absolute value of sincerity.
Real love is that which shows no fear.
Unfortunately I am a coward.
I no longer can love a world that is platinum plated and wishes not to remember
the warmth of a child's smile.
Even the stars wish not to roam on the skies of the falsely lit nights.
Even the moon moans because of how far from her we've drifted.
Even the willos weep when we no longer wish to see them stand and instead
choose them to stand on.
I've outweighed the courage and the fear.
But what I found frightened me further.
What weighed us down the most was indifference.
With that discovery I knew what I had to do.
I must leave and find somewhere where gravity is no longer so heavy.
I know I can't outweigh death for it's a burden that falls on the shoulders of everyone.
I'm truly sorry that i'm a selfish coward
For I have chosen the coward's end.
I wish you goodluck my friend,
The shadow of men
we got marraige
time for the carriage
time to hear the cry
we did try
now we got it
let not sit
but play our tune
BABY IN JUNE
"Song Of Solomon"
good old Solomon of the wise,
offered to part a child by slice,
the caring mother she went crook,
so he gave the babe to that old chook, (the real mother)
other mother got denied.
Infested with larvae and worms
Glory to the living dead
Mari'jas the queen of the Nekras
Born from the Earth
She was conceived in death
The mistress of burial rites
She holds power over all the dead
Leading all into her darkened embrace
She waits for each and all to die
Accompanying you to your demise
Fresh flesh she must always consume
Thrust into the feeding pit
Her zombie hordes digest the death
Stranded in this region of famine
You will feel not but excruiating pain
This domain is plagued
Decaying fields filled with masses of undead
Consume the life of those once breathing
Suck their blood till you thirst no more
shows bone beneath dead muscle
She has defied ultimate death
and she is giving you the chance to be free
Hugs are babies’ first official language
Followed by triangles, circles, with assorted symbols
Infants pay special attention to white pillows and quilts
Sleep is always on their minds
Flowing over yellow ribbons of light and energy
Babies contemplate squares and rectangles lifted from the fog
They think about animals as fury toys and perceive them thusly
Images come slowly and they focus on shiny things
They feel their tiny fingers and toes to stay in touch
Letters and numbers are foreign to them now
Yet they understand some things about them in their world
Pink and white dreams of billowy clouds bounce by
They think to take this ride a lot
Streams of life with limited visibility color in the blurs
Shapes of things to come take form in these meanderings
They know two mountains warm with riches wait for them
Breasts filled with vitamins and milk
They cling to these mounds for nourishment
They rest their heads and think goo goo gaa gaa
It is the foundation of a doctoral dissertation later in life
While mothers voice flows over them like thick warm honey
Babies think of deeper sleep
a warrior awakes
full~ hardened at sunrise
love breaks his fasting
young squaw with belly rounded
quickening~ a warrior wakes
I do not know?
Sleep my little girl sleep
after a long windy day,
of bloodless war
sleep my little girl sleep
my heart striving to come to your world
i feel lonely here
pity, my eyes are fully bright
searching through the cloud
to catch a glimpse of you
in the beautiful world you are
a place of rest
sleep my little girl sleep.
Only at the top of “Mapo” Hill
Lies the old but tattered roofs
Of the ancient city of Ibadan
"Ajorosun" the second largest in Africa
Archaic modern city with which we measure
The political tempo and potentio-meter
Of the most populous black nation in the world
The city of those who only chew “Oro”
And converse with the mat for the dinner
The city of those who ride and rid people
Their properties with horses and impunity
Those who refuse to know “Laipo”
Stand not to know the city called Ibadan
The city of the real warriors and conquerors
Alayande Stephen. T
2nd of Novembere ,2005
Inside a Lagos bus on my way to Ibadan
From Lagos.The inspiration came when
The vehicle (Sango-Molete) got to Bere,
Behold I saw Ibadan and the tattered roofs.
NB-"Ajorosun" is a Yoruba word from an Ethnic group in Nigeria.It is used as
praise poetry for the Ibadan people of Nigeria.
(Pink Ribbons and White Fluff)
Bright blue skies with
Brilliant white pillows of fluff,
Set the stage that glorious day.
Friends lined the streets
To cheer her on
Her Mom watched
From the comfort
Of her hospital room.
Tatum's heart was filled
With the passion to run.
She set her goals
High that day.
Even the strength
Of ten men might
Not have won
On that day,
She didn't have
The heart to lose.
She'd have to race
Up her flesh
Engine very high
And then shift it
Swiftly to cruise
In order to win
This zealous race.
Her Mother's blues
From the challenges
Of breast cancer
Gave her the
To run for the
Boobs that day.
Her mother had the
Courage to kick the
Booze years ago,
But breast cancer
Was not as easy.
For raising the funds
For the advancement
Of breast cancer research
Was her main focus,
That bright glorious day.
It would be an honor
To help find a cure
For such a ruthless
Disease that women
Succumb to yearly.
Warm streams of tears
Mixed with salty sweat
And tangy Gatorade
Face that evening,
When she was
Presented with a
Check and a bright
Pink ribbon trophy.
She placed second
In the race,
Was a start.
The smile on
Her mother's face
Was what really
Filled her heart with
Fluff that glorious night.
I do not know?
As the day comes and goes I look for a miracle to get me through the day.
With the kids screaming and fighting ,I still look for a miracle to get me
through the day.
As the lights go out and no milk to drink, I still look for a miracle to
get me through the day.
As the food gets spoiled and the cat eats his food,I still look for a
miracle to get me through the day.
As the sun goes down and the moon comes up I'm glad my miracle has come
true the day is through.
I sit on my hands
At the bottom of the stairs
When will she call?
When can I move?
My mind wanders in the darkness
My soul takes flight
And my mind has wings
I am free
I see the cottage
The Red Woods
I am home
Being called back to reality
I stand and run
The Mother calls once more
Once again my world has stopped
Her unloving hand
My unloved face
Once more they meet
All parents are devastated
by the death of their youngest;
did strange behavior or premonition
pique their curiosity at all?
They got out of hand at the neighbor's party too wild and intense,
and without supervision, they binged and laughed hysterically;
blasting music, making obscene gestures, dancing madly and cursing loudly,
and they felt too powerful with those drinks in their irresponsible hands!
Actions aren't justified when they are premeditated so perfectly,
killers make plans to murder someone, then claim insanity;
kids tell their parent lies to do things that are harmful and shameful,
down the road across Lisa's house, four kids barely seventeen drove into a light pole!
Their blood is still there, and thousands of flowers can't cover those stains,
unconsolable mothers kneel by their angels' beautiful pictures;
friends sob and hold back their tears, fearing they would be next!
Why trust kids fully, when a cautious word can definetly put some sense into them?
All parents are devastated by the death and tormented by the demise of their youngest:
when agony rips apart their wailing chest for not having done enough;
and to carry that guilt inside is a costly price: to have seen a young life wasted and lost!
Let's learn from these tragedies, and do more to prevent more fatalities!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
So I'm slithering along the hallway
and all the lights are out
I come upon Mom and Friend
ignoring the man that shouts
He bangs upon the door
he begs, he implores
we stiflle our laughter
he hears, he begs more
I'm certain I shouldn't be a witness to these events
as a child nearly adult, I'm hard to convince
Hell no, I'm not going back to bed
I need to know why he's out of his head
Mama and Friend can barely contain
their fear and glee for this man's pain
I am breathless, enthralled at "Their " power
to rob a man of what he thinks of "His" power
then Friend departs with Mr. Pain on his plane, so regal
she soon calls to report he's illegal
finally she returns to her kids, to us, her dogs
I was skulking around when she told mom
My life is mother nature,
when i cry everyone cries,
when im scared everyones scared,
when i feel mad i produce a storm.
when i feel hurt everything is torn.
when i have tears, everyone has fears.
When i have hate,
i try to hold back.
A tornado in the sky comming to collect.
collect all the dirt and garbage,
and pain the world has.
As a mother of nature,
i stand on my throne.
Looking through everyone i have known.
Now all my tears are dry and its a beautiful sky.
All the pain i hide, it will all say goodbye.
A baba baby beep beep bede beep
a bee I
in the fee I
a hooooo the wind blows
a boo be dee boo bop bop
more more; all done
aachew . . . . .amphf
a dit dite a dit
a hiccup a ooh
a bu a dah duh
shake a shake
Patience of the saints, no doubt, in me deeply burn
I cry, in my nocturnal solitude, for your final return
Live…and die only in own image, to me, you entrust
I will love you and will cherish you forever, till I last
Peeling your brown smooth skin offshore, just to clothe
I am your lasting joy, I know, but, dreams’ for us both
Never had I questioned your plea, for the world to see
Although I bleed, from repression, you’re certainly free
Sons and daughters, wherever you are, remember me…
Over a week, she is managing,
Her happiness, her son is coming,
First time from a university,
She was busy to express her Love.
She cleaned his room and furnished,
His likely items, behaved nicely,
As he purchased to enjoy time,
Flowers, books, songs and new portraits.
She was under pressure over years,
I didn’t understand her feelings,
She was so deep in willing to care,
I lost my life, never saw her so closely.
Before a night, she haven’t a sound sleep,
Watching the clock, having a drink,
Went back to bed and started rolling,
I thought not to disturb her, made a cup of tea.
Spent few hours and shared all memories,
Refined stock of sadness and happiness again,
And enjoyed healthy relationship once more,
Heard early music of birds before rising a Sun.
She drove her vehicle, and stood up,
Train was coming an hour late,
But her eyes were running on the lines.
She welcomed her son with tears
I do not know?
Six tigers swam across the bay
they sniffed the air and came my way
I had no fear but asked the time
they answered me in pantomime
I tipped my hat and said Goodbye
but tiger five began to cry
so I went with them for a chat
without a word....imagine that
we ate an elderberry stew
across a bridge inTimbuktu
with seven sisters singing grace
we bought a condo on the place
I caught some stars at dinnertime
we ate them with blueberry wine
then mother called me from the moon
she smiled and told me "Be home soon".
'"illoshka wants his hat returned,
you should have asked,and now youv'e learned'
I should have asked,imagine that
before I wore illoshkas hat
I took it off and looked around
my mind returned to solid ground
The tigers turned to swaying palms
the seven sisters sang their psalms
and waved Goodbye across the bay
the condo turned to bits of clay
and I went home where mother sat
waiting for illoshkas hat.
She who watches, waits upon
the dreaming rock and drinks
the panorama cast before;
she who waits, watches for
the setting sun and ponders at
the well of night forever more.
Guardian of the soil and air,
the fire hearth and waters
quilted upon the earth;
sister to the moon and stars,
solemn in maternity
for beloved lost in birth.
Mother of the children ghosts
who tramp the green fields
orphan cursed, decreed alone;
her silence calls them unto her
so she may harvest in their souls
and bring them home.
She who waits, watches for
the surrogates to rise instead
of those she was denied;
she who watches, waits for
all who lose their way,
a haven until judgement day
to shelter and abide.
Yet another of Tom's True Tales...and not even exaggerated!!
A while back, I guess I was 17 or 18,
And leader of the "Gors",
My friend Barry Bernstein and I
went on a double date,
Little realizing, what would be our fate...
Now Barry's tag was "Noodles the Shiv"
His propensity to wield his gravity knife,
I was a bit more low-keyed, but to
anger me was to invite strife
Now the mother of one of the girls
had dropped us off at the movie,
When the show was over,
and we were feeling groovy,
We stopped at the pizzeria
Sat at a table and it took no more,
For five greaser's at a table near,
To start making comments
that we could hear...
My hair was a bit long,
but my temper short,
They asked if I was an Indian,
which I doubt they thought,
They laughed at us, it was so sad,
Until somehow I got so mad...
I took off my garrison belt,
It's edges sharpened like razors,
Wrapped it around my hand,
My eyes showing crazes,
I went over to their table,
and challenged them,
"Come on, you faggots!!
You wanna fight?!?!
I'll take you all on, as is my right...
They grew quiet now,
their eyes showed fear,
Thinking I was a madman,
Well, yes, that was clear...
No fear I felt, only rage,
And really hoped,
to challenge me to engage,
But their blood was drained
from their faces,
This guy's insane!!!...
Let's get outta' here,
In speedy paces...
So they left, and I
returned to my seat,
and then our pizza, we did eat
Ten minutes later,
with the mother on her way,
We walked out,
and I gotta say....
Now there were 12 or more,
with bats, chains, and more
Out for our blood, cause
ya can't ignore...
A failed face-down,
such loss of face,
Might as well pack up,
a disgrace to your race.....
The mother's station wagon,
it did approach,
I told Barry to walk slow,
So they knew at most,
They'd be in a fight,
might cost them dear.....
Hurry up, Mom,
they're gettin near...
They still hesitated,
such fear I'd struck,
They weren't about
to push their shakey luck...
Up rolled the car, and we got in,
The mother oblivious
to the great din,
As she started to pull away,
trash cans started,
to fly our way.....
"What's with these kids?"
she wondered aloud,
Not realizing how close,
We'd evaded their crowd...
Allow this stranger of another species to become me. how i dare not breathe
because of my own me. Of all the things that i believe. Of all the things i conceive.
I'd pick you. Through my journey's. all my paths what forth can i not adhere to. I
stick with my past. For they seem to last. an won't let this stop me. this has not
yet opt to me. Let me go i want to breathe, the air you breathe. the way you walk,
talk in your sense, know your time of gesture. I am what you want me to be. I can't
be what anybody else see's. Im just your foreshadow. What the outside sees
before the inside does. Help me get me out of here. Oh i can't im stuck until you
die away and remember you are beautiful. Inside and out. Im your mother. Im
your Mirror Image.
I do not know?
The World Is Wonderful In A Childs Eyes
A Big Place To Run And Play
Chase The butterflies around the yard
pick some flowers for mommy
The World Is Big In A Childs Eyes
Come on Daddy let's go outside and play
let's go fishing on a hot summer day
picnic at the beach and swim all day
The World Is Wonderful In A Childs Eyes
Before my adulthood,
I recall to be a respectful, astute kid;
neighbors spoke of me well...
the ideal boy they'd have loved to have!
My mother was the proudest of all,
she ignated my ideas with a sparkle
that was the foundation of a growing spirit
challeging me and making me full!
Before my adulthood,
folks and things didn't move further away...
deeper into yesterday;
I discovered their sweetness,
never leading me to discontent!
Infinite horizons spread before me,
giving me many chioces
that questioned my intelligence:
which one to choose...a small mind
confronting a huge Universe...
taking the first step
and not fearing to look beyond!
Before my time of adulthood,
my plans for the future
were an indefinite number;
I stood before Creation,shrouded in wonders,
not questioning the undaring soul:
how to defeat fear and go past those bounderies
that intrigued those who were not afraid...
to seek the meaning of their existence!