...She is a ten year old girl.
...A fine example
for her daughter.
...He is a father a husband.
He was a soldier...
...sent in harms way.
They are a family proud....
is everyone's nightmare....
...This brave man
was badly wounded...
while defending his country....
a head injury.
Did he give up...
...lie in a bed,
expect to be spoon fed?
No one would of blamed him...
...certainly not me.
He did not give up!
...The heavy fog that now
lays inside his brain...
...is just another battle.
...Was he the hero?
Yes most definitely.
Ah but his daughter,
...ten years of wisdom
"When my daddy walks
he uses my shoulders."
the soldier...head shaven
walks using his daughter young...
...in front of him, to walk
to where he needs to go.
Ah but his daughter...
...ten years of wisdom
"I love my daddy
he is my hero!"
I see more than
one hero, that young girl
just oozing with love,
that little girl is my hero!
Still in my heart
"i love my daddy
he is my hero!"
I just want to hug her.
At ten years young
she is a soldiers rock!
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Contest Name: The Good News Paper
A man with impeccable charm, sophistication and grace,
Fred Astaire was at once both marvelous and enchanting
As the twentieth century’s greatest dancer and master artist.
He made his sublime dancing (“hoofing”) seem effortless.
Capturing the American spirit with both panache and verve
Fred Astaire glided across some quite wonderful movie sets:
Top Hat (1935), Swing Time (1936), Shall We Dance (1937)
Done magnificently—all harken back to a different America.
This America tho’ more old fashioned was one of “can-do”
And boasted a gutsy bravado even in times great hardship.
Fred Astaire with others was a sturdy star symbol of the then
Greatest Generation that helped bring peace to a war torn world.
Fred Astaire was part of this Greatest Generation entertaining
Packed audiences and dazzling them with steps of joy and perfection.
Tho’ now gone Astaire’s past accomplishments serve as a prologue
For new generations to come and to seize opportunities for greatness.
Where are you Fred Astaire?
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(September 2, 2014)
JE SUIS CHARLIE — Afterthought
The shock of this most frightening tragedy is practically beyond
the pale of any reasonable or adequate attempt or effort to explain
it or to rationalize the horrible circumstances surrounding it.
Let me just say that all of us who are writers and poets ply our
poetry, “our intellectual wares,” if you will, in a common written
medium that expects the same unrestricted level of freedom of
speech and expression exercised by those extraordinarily brave
artists at “Charlie Hebdo” who were recently murdered in cold
blood by self-styled Islamic extremists in Paris.
It is also equally saddening and deplorable that some courageous
police officers died in the line of duty defending these freedoms
as well as some other security people and hostages caught up in
the midst of these most terrifying circumstances.
The heinous actions perpetrated by these armed extremists
destroyed innocent lives and affected the lives of a number of
loved ones whose burden of sadness and tragedy is unimaginable.
Their actions also were an attempt to strike at the very heart of
those sacred freedoms that all of us who live in open societies and
democracies cherish as part of our everyday lives. The armed
extremists, by their actions, also personified and demonstrated an
obvious affectation for barbarity, stupidity, ignorance, and cowardice
that were all on ample display as a result of what they did.
Freedom of speech and expression are among those certain
historic inalienable rights given to all of us by the divine hand of
God himself, and certainly not by the generosity of any government
or religious group (regardless of faith). The brave souls who died
at Charlie Hebdo, died exercising this most sacred franchise.
The point I’m driving at is this: Those extremists who committed
these most reprehensible actions of recent against their fellow man
did not win in spite of their collective efforts to destroy lives and to
sully these precious freedoms that all of us as writers and artists
hold so very dear.
The outpouring of emotion and sadness in support of these slain
heroes in the face of this most despicable crime is quite compelling,
and underlies the continuing determination of all of us who love
and cherish the freedoms of speech and expression to continue to
speak out and to exercise these sacred rights without reservation.
With all of this in mind, I humbly and proudly conclude my narrative
to all of you here by saying and echoing as loudly as possible:
“Je Suis Charlie” . . . “I am Charlie.”
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (January 10, 2015)
They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A doer of good deeds.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
Believing he saved
From a long, cold walk,
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.
In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away
a right path
© Eugene Harvey
Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.
Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.
My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered.
In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised,
But it is to be called someone,
Who can be respected.
To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.
He could be someone’s father
He could be
The one to cure cancer,
The one who
Saves a child
From a burning building,
The one who
Do so as well.
But right now,
He’s a drunk
Who has probably
Spent all of his money
Who is ungrateful,
The one who
The one who will
Lose his life
Over a fallen shoe.
And you are the one
Who can save him.
You do not stand alone in your Battle
Your battle is our Battle
We may not be there in body
But we are there with you in Spirit
We are there in every beat of your Heart
In every whisper of the wind
In every thought and every touch
Every breath and every sound
We are there with you
You are wrapped in an Endless chain of Love
In every link we each send you a part of us
We send you some of our Strength
Some of our will to Fight
Some of our Courage
The most important of them all
We send you all of our Love
If you feel you need more
Just give that Endless chain a little tug
And we'll be there
Tug til you need us no more
Then we'll know you've gone Home
5/09/2014 Dedicated to my Aunt Nini, Wilma Thomas Gamble for Mother's Day. Sadly she lost her Battle w/ Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer on 5/30/2014.
My friends and I had midnight hide and seek
One had to stand by a tree and not peek
In my state of hiding great I was hard to find
My friends decided to just be unkind
They all got together and decided to hunt me down
I first hid in the river near my house and almost drown
When they walk close by me I silently move through the grass
It was very hard to see, but I crawled a long time and almost ran out of gas
Then I heard one say that they were going up and wait by the tree
I had an idea that made a way to make them see
A shadow that ran in the distance thinking that would be
I had my horse pull a little manikin to make them think it was me
My friends took their flashlight and shined it toward it
I thought I had them but one thing was clear they did not fall for it not a bit
They all laugh and started to call out my name
They all asked how the heck did you have time to pull that trick that was so lame
I did not answer so they kept on looking for me, but I was so quick
Some of my friends started to get really mad and tick
I was a master of doing weird things they all knew what I can do
The night was still young and the grass was collecting dew
I decided to make a distraction once again
To think of it, it would probably make the night end
My friends finally surrounded my tree house
I was quiet, so quiet, more than a mouse
I had some rope in the tree house to make my escape
To distract them I made a loud noise like an ape
The tree that my tree house was in was at least forty feet up
I had some stash in my tree house a drink or two in a cup
My final hour is about to end I did not want my friends to catch me till I got to the tree
I took the rope and tide it on a branch and pushed off and that was the key
I landed on the garage roof and sneaked my way to the tree
My friends knew me to well that they plan things before I could see
They had a fish net ready for me to step into
I thought that was kinda wise and some what like pew
The few feet by the tree there was two of my friends that was ready
Up in the tree they both jumped down and pulled me up in the net fast and steady
They thought they had won, the person had to tag me before I touch tree
She ended up having to get something to stand on to reach me
I swung my weight back and forth till I ended up touching and the game ended
My friends and I were so full of surprises and that is what the game handed
Which way leads to the
land of green white
Which way are we
A country the wicked
bears the rulership, and
the people sighing
A terrible thing sprouts
beneath the sun: a
Imps come to lime-light
by snuffing air from the
goose that laid the
The blind guiding the un
The weak suppressing
the strong-a terrible
Like the overthrow of the
gods at Mt. Olympus by
A country where also
thieves appear as men of
Land of green white
A land where the
enlightened ones are
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that
eat the crumbs.
Which way to go you
Iliterates stand on
podium of power
bellowing orders as milk
of sorrow known as
dividends of democracy
is passed around.
The machine of progress
manned by the
"There is better
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white
where rule of law walk
The proles are sentenced
to adversity,and there
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People
dancing on thorns
whimpering as they
I see a new sun rising
from the horizon,hope is
rekindled as its rays
grace on hopeless bodies.
Look!! there soon be
The day they fell
He stands before the great woods
Arms stretched, bracing the storm of machines
They roar and bark, trying to break his wall
But he stays put, Save the Forests he screams
The tress stand tall, lush and green
Seedlings sprout, Flowers bloom
Animals frolic in their wonderland
Is the forest really meeting it's doom?
He stands before the great woods
Protecting everything it confides
Many plants and animals are within
Away from the human eye they hide
Even if you have never seen them
Just take a step inside
The feeling of life the smell of grass
Do u really want them all to die?
The machines don't care
Around the forest they continue to surround
They have never seen the wind
And never heard the sounds
They never felt the wind against their faces
Never heard the rustling of leaves
Never seen the life in the forest
Never understood that it brings relief
Fire shoots up as the forest screams
Roars and crackles follow too
Animals run, plants sink to the floor
As the machine consumes the forests full
The trees spend decades growing up
The animals spend years moving in
But it only takes seconds to burn it down
To burn the forest into the size of a pin
What has the forest done he wonders
As He stands in front of the orange blaze
To deserve this kind of torturous pain
With Heat and sorrow right in his face
They ran laughing
Into the night.
Hand in hand.
Heart in heart.
Twenty-One, and Nineteen.
Forging new pathways,
Laughing at the wind.
It took only
For the driver
To mow them down.
It took only
For love realized
to be lost.
But years before
He stood next to his father
Who said the choice is yours.
And the proud young man
Checked the box
And signed his name
That the heart
He gave the girl
Would not be
His to give.
Of holding breaths
And the heart
Began to beat
Urge To Smile
By Nate Spears
The morning sun rises
My flesh is set back
Due to my body needing
Much needed rest
Does anyone else feel
the urge to smile?
I know right now
I'm feeling sour
A grin attached to my face
That lights up the sky
Behind my clouds of joy
There lies a lie
With everyone wondering how?
How can he smile
with so much going on
Rapidly by the hour
People losing their homes
Some can barely feed their kids
The government is gone
They rather spend our money
On billion dollar drones
Never the less
We're here to see another day
Being healthy and relevant
Gives me strength
To soar into a new day
With unlimited fight
Packed up under my wings
Thanks in advance
As long as I'm living
I can better my condition
It's mandatory to smile
A privilege to be living.
I saw a young lady who was so perfect that she made my heart beat
I could not figure it out and now I really don't know I had to take a seat
She smiled like an angel in the heavens with glorious blinding teeth
She seems so kind and full of life and never put people beneath
I do not have a bad thought or a moment without any ease
I notice that because she pulled me up and smiled with a tease
She kept things close to her like my hand and my heart
She knew that I was just the man that gave her a good start
I never had a thought of leaving because of a fight
I will never part with her because she is my sight
She looks forward at all times and never looks back
She knows how I am if some one would hurt her I would attack
I will never leave her side with out her knowing she is safe and sound
I am the man of her dreams I will never let her down hard on any ground
She loves me with all her heart and I know this because she gives me the look
She knew how long I waited for her to notice me, I remember it was long time it took
I waited by her side when she was ill and could not walk
I held her hand and made her smile when I told her I love her, when I talk
She noticed it in my voice the feelings with care
She never looked at me in a blank stare
I can't imagine being alive without you
I can't imagine what it will be like when your gone
I don't know what I'll become without you
Maybe I'll just run
Run away from everything and leave everyone behind
Maybe I'll find a way to be close to you
Because I won't believe you died
My heart will ache so much more
Tears will always run
My eyes will hold the wisdom
That you bestowed upon me young
And my recklessness will be noticeable
People will wonder why
Why am I running when the person I needed most died
How can I face my life when I can't do anything right
I won't believe you have gone away
When God decides to take you
I'll still come by your house and always expect an answer
I Love You Gamma
You Taught Me About My Heritage
Please Remember Me When God Takes You
Please Guide Me In the Right Way
It was only supposed to last a little while.
The pain I suffered was temporary.
You promised you would fix it.
Oh and fix me you did.
I hate you for what I have become.
Tired. Lazy unable to work.
You created this monster of pain
Inside my head.
It never goes away.
But you were the lucky soul.
Your death was quick and painless.
Leaving behind those who mourn.
But I am not one of them.
I wish you all that you deserve.
I have something now that I cannot change.
This damage to nerves, and numbness and pain.
My life has become a struggle.
I compete with pain each day.
Sometimes I lose. Occasionally I win
It never leaves this pain you made.
I wonder how many more.
You destroyed like me.
So powerful being a surgeon.
To hold someone's life in your hands.
sickness, depression, anger
People are my weakness and hidden fear
I just feel that some words they say set me in tear
For example I gave a person a smile one day and they gave me a glare
I did not know that smiling in the world today cause people to stare
These types of stare gave me chills down my spine a feeling that made me blind
Why? why is my weakness the people who are very unkind
Hiding is all I can do when people give me a unkind view
I get to a point that my fear seems to wonder and stew
People are who they are and what should I even do
I don't understand that they are evil and some times nice too
My hidden fear are people just because they are always around
That is no argument and my feeling are perfectly sound
The hate builds up in my mind, but does not bother, how my heart feel
I learned to undergo a change that my feelings become like steel
Hard as it should be in situations needed I forget how to use it
So it becomes my weapon and it is to some people heartless just a bit
My hidden fear is what I see in people today
They harm others and they think it is okay
That is why I fear my feelings for others at times because it is so confusing
My hidden fear is some what bad and some what a blessing
In memory of Bob
A true story.
It was in spring of two thousand when I first saw Bob. I’d just started working at Perth Dental hospital, and in fact it was my first day there. I walked up to the front door of this building, but it wasn’t yet opened. So I turned around and went to sit in the bus shelter which was just outside the building. As I went to sit down I noted a dark skinned gentleman sitting there with a happy, benign look on his face. He was about five feet eight give or take a little, and he was rather a thickset man who looked like he’d done his fair share of hard work in his sixty years or more.
There was something about this Gentleman that I could not quite put my finger on. He had a certain charisma about him; not the phony kind of charisma that one seen in the car salesman or the philanderer who messes with women’s heads, no, Bob had a kind of friendly smile for everyone that he met, and he seemed to draw people into him with his love, and gigantic heart. I knew as soon as I met him that Bob was most definitely for me.
As Bob looked at me and smiled, the whole world seemed to open up. He said “Ow ya going mate” in a loud ebullient manner, then we started to chat. Bob was like myself, a thinker, and straight away we started philosophizing about this, that, and the other, and it was like we had known each other forever. Then all of a sudden I found Bob talking about death, and the difference in the way the Maori people faced death, compared to the rather the silly way us white folk look at the subject with great fear in our hearts. Now this had always interested me, and somehow it just seemed natural to talk to this Maori gentlemen on this subject, and we spoke about it till the doors opened and it was time to work.
I don’t think anything happens just by chance, and I definitely have this feeling that Bob and I were meant to meet, and I really think this was a major destiny thing. I have found during the course of my life, that as I am aging, I can feel something pushing me into a certain direction, and I always felt that Bob was part of all this; and I had much to learn from him. Although I have never believed in organized religion, and never followed one I have always felt deeply spiritual, and I have met many people who I learned from, and Bob was most definitely one of them with all his great wisdom and patience. As I came to know Bob, we had many dialogues together, on many subjects. Bob used to love music and could always have time to plonk away on his guitar. He used to come round to my place and we would play songs together, though both he and I were no Eric Clapton’s, I would bang around on my guitar and play the harp, while we would both take out turns at singing. We’d have a smoke or a beer or two, and we’d play songs all day long, ahhh, I remember those days well, the memories are so strong.
Bob was one hell of a man, I could tell that he had been a wild one in his youth,
But when I knew him in his sixties he was an icon of wisdom and virtue; he had a kind word for everyone, and gave all his time to anybody who needed him, always.
He used to hear me waffling on like an idiot, trying to make him like me [as I always did] but never once did he tell me how foolish I was, he would just smile knowingly at me. He used to stand there at the window for hours, just drinking in the trees, or the clouds in the sky, and yet he was so aware, I used to try to sneak up on him; it couldn’t be done. His awareness was incredible.
Then one day Bob fell ill with terminal cancer, and he knew that he had very little time left on this Earth. He lay there sick for days in intolerable pain, but you never heard one complaint from him, even when he only had days to live, he was still worrying about the welfare of others. When the day finally come for Bob to leave his shell; he was lying there in deep sleep, when all of a sudden he woke up, with a smile on his face. His children asked him ‘Dad, do you want some pain killers” Bob laughed, compassion written all over his face, and he said to them ‘Not one of you has a clue, have you’ and he died with a big smile on his face.
His daughter got in touch with me, and told me about his death, and also told me that his last wish was to have me watch his soul leave his body. I felt very honored about this and went and sat with his body [as Maoris do]. I got the most peaceful feeling come to me [which I presume was his spirit leaving his body] as I watched his silent body, a Mari war stick and a beautiful rose lay across his chest. I still see it, and I feel blessed by it. He was my Maori warrior, and I adored the man.
Two faithful souls stand listless in the great big tower
overlooking the stranded city that once stood tall
yearning for a quiet place to lay their heads
while far beyond the deserted land
a soft blue light gleams gracefully above tranquil skies,
dancing shadows rocking to midnight tunes,
and sweet melodies echoing from the gigantic moon.
She spans more than a thousand feet long soaking
up the exhausted earth, her immeasurable depths
cuts and carve through valleys and streams
with clear blue water and powdery white sand
what more could you ask for on that distant land.
They have been planning this trip for many years,
but when the time draws near their saving disappears.
An empty refrigerator with two trays of frozen ice
lean against the corner of the kitchen
in their ten bedroom mansion
and a bare pantry exposing a slice of mildew bread
filled with little mice nibbling and playing tug of war.
Not many people knew their story
they have been broke for twenty years
but lived a painful lie, cutting corners
making back door transaction,
eating lamb and turkey from profits
made from sordid deals.
Their empire that once stood tall hangs in dismay
While it watches the world going up in flame
by those who continue to play treacherous games.
Sobibor and Hiroshima horrors of the past
Should have cleared the way for a more sophisticated path
But now athoroughfare mixed with complexity
packed with insidiousness
have ducks walking around
quacking without wings or tails
They finally got an offer to go to Utopia.
with packed bags not a penny in their name,
they set off for Utopia hoping to find a new life again
but when they got their it was the same old begrimed game.
Their entire world has been shaken,
shaken by its own guilt and self-reproach,
the transgression that their ancestors have borne
have been handed down for generations to shoulder
A land that they believe was pure and holy
has turned into nightmare and horror
dreadful things dismount in dark corners
women raped strangers abused
yet religion forms the core of the throne
They have witnessed empires toppled,
Kingdoms have fallen in their sight
Rulers have shaken and wept bitterly
causing the great big god to balance the scale
but blackmail in Utopia remains a formidable game
©2013 Christine Phillips
Waves of Change
Changes in life descriptionalized
In comparison to waves of the ocean
Our bodies are made mostly of water
A body of water with flowing emotions
Now an ocean will flow peacefully
Until there is a bit of turbulence
Disrupting from a smooth flow
With the up and down currents
As we walk onto a new path
A different kind of feeling steps in
New ventures can be scary in thought
Of what is left behind when we begin
An air of difference can bring on a spin
To a funnel effect as does a water spout
Sometimes when in the spin motion cycle
We are shaded by clouds and cannot see out
When actually caught within the spin
We do not see the change is there
Our sense of direction is lost
We become totally unaware
If you are the one caught
Within that fast paced spin
You will not be able to see
The shape you are really in
That’s the time we need someone
To give us a tap on the shoulder
It’s not a matter of who knows more
Or which one of the other is older
You’ll need a friend like Dory was
Saying to just keep swimming the sea
To never give up your hopes and dreams
As changes in life really just happen to be
Florence McMillian (Flo)
I never dreamed when I retired that my budget would be strained by a haircut. I gave up on barbers years ago, now I go to a salon (that’s pronounced with a long “on”). I’ve plopped down as much as twenty-five dollars to have my hair cut, hoping to get it done just the way I wanted. Now, I’m not complaining, I’d be willing to pay any reasonable amount for a good haircut. But, have you considered the odds of getting your hair cut the way you want it? Let me leave you in on a little secret: “Ain’t gonna happen.”
I’m not a man who wears his hair long, I just like to have a good covering on my head. Believe me, that’s getting harder to realize every day. The good Lord has to take a recount every morning since He keeps tabs on things like that. Yes, I’ll admit it, I’m getting pretty thin on top. But, if it’s left just a little long, I can blow-dry it and pouf it so that it covers pretty well. On the sides I have no problem, there I grow it like a sheep dog.
I’ve tried so many hairdressers that I guess I’m going to have to start commuting to neighboring cities. I usually start the ordeal like this:
“I want just a trim, just evened out, please. Leave the sides heavy and don’t take anything off the top, it’s too hard to replace. And pleaseeee don’t touch the sideburns.”
“Yes sir, I understand totally. It’s your hair and you should get it just the way you want.”
Ah, I settle back in the chair and give a sigh of relief, finally its going to happen. She flips me around so I’m not facing the mirror, and I notice an awful pile of hair falling onto the cover she placed around my shoulders. I glance down to see whose it is, and she says, “Please hold your head up straight.”
What’s she trying to hide? Seems like an awful lot of activity on top of my head. Finally, she spins the chair around so I’m facing the mirror. She has her clippers poised just at the top of my ear and asks, “May I cut your sideburns off straight across?”
I scream “No!” But already she’s cut so much of them off that it’ll take me the next month to grow them back again. She pleads, “But, I don’t like them long.”
Who really cares, they’re my sideburns. Besides, I don’t like her burgundy hair but I didn’t say anything.
She presents a smiling face and offers me a small mirror to view the back of my head (so I can see that big bald spot right near the top). Good grief, I’ve been scalped again.
“How’s that look?” she asks just as if she’s done everything I asked.
Am I supposed to be honest and diplomatic or tell her the truth? After all, if I insult her and cause her to have a bad day, she can’t put it back anyway.
“It’s fine,” I lie one more time. I didn’t get it cut the way I wanted, and all that hair she cut off she stuffed down the back of my shirt. I could just scream.
My wife is the voice of reason. “Don’t have a cow, it’ll grow back in a few weeks.”
Yea right, just in time for the whole ordeal to start over again. I swear I’m going to take a Nazarite vow and let it grow.
Well, at least its not as bad as when I was a kid. My Dad used to take me to this nice old man in Frostburg. He was a nice guy, but he only knew how to cut hair one way. He scalped everyone who came within five feet of his chair.
Dad always went there, of course he didn’t have any hair to start with. I always made him take me to the progressive guy two streets away. He would cut it just like I asked, and my Dad would pay him the fifty cents and mumble, “You certainly didn’t get your monies worth.” Good grief, who said anything about wanting my monies worth. I wanted my hair.
Times have sure changed. Fifty cents way back then to nearly twenty-five dollars now. And they don’t even realize I would have to come back sooner if they didn’t cut it all off.
What ever happened to the axiom “the customer is always right”? If you ask me, the customer is always bald when it comes to the hair salon.
So, what’s price of a good hair cut? I have no idea - I haven’t had one in ages.
Lying atop a hill, he gazes into the sky. The world spins around, minutes passing by.
The grass is dry but green, the lack of water has not yet started to slow its flourish. Time will bring that. He lies motionless. Arms at his side. Legs slightly spread. The wind blows softly. Gently. Brushing his cheeks with gentle fingers. Reminding him of an easier time. A touch so soft it's presence remains a question. It's existence remains a teasing stroke. Grey rain clouds folding into the light white clouds in such a way this man has not noticed. He continues on, unmoving. The first drop of rain must come as a surprise as it falls and lands atop his cheek, running down to meet with the grass. He doesn't flinch. He still doesn't blink. The next drop falls, and the next, followed by its sister waters. Soaking his face. He goes on unnerved. Perhaps this is a comfort. It allows his tears a place to run unseen. Without judgment. Providing a hidden release to a man who has not known the word in past. He hears nothing, senses no one. But she's there. Kneeling down, pressing herself into his arms. Not speaking. Just accepting him for who he is and what he's experienced. She also ignores the rain, the wind and the clouds. She runs her finger down his jaw line, down his neck, across his collar bone and rests it on his heart. It is there she settles in.
I placed my luggage and sat on my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. I was glad I had a book. Just before take-off a line of soldiers came in and filled the vacant seats. I started a conversation. 'Where you headed?' I asked a soldier. “To Petawawa for a 2Wk training then we’re off to Afghanistan. “
After an hour flight an announcement was made “Sack Lunches sold for $5.00”
I decided to buy one. I overheard a soldier ask his buddy, “Are you buying one? “No, seems like a lot of money for a sack lunch. I'll wait till I get to base.” I looked around, no other soldier was buying. I handed the attendant $50. 'Take lunch to all them soldiers please.” Through wet eyes she said, “My son was a soldier in Iraq, it's as if you’re doing this for him” she served the soldiers their lunch then came to my seat and asked, “Do you prefer beef or chicken?' 'Chicken,' I said. She returns with a dinner plate from 1st class. “This is your thanks.”
After we finish eating a man comes up to me, “I saw what you did, I want to be part
Of it.” hands me a $25 bill. I see the Flight Captain walking down the aisle towards me. I
Take off my seat belt and shake his hand. In a proud voice he says 'I was a soldier and a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I ever forgot.' Applause was heard from all of the passengers. Later I walked to the front of the plane, and a man who was seated ahead of me placed another $25 dollars in my palm. When we landed I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. A man stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!
As I entered the terminal, I saw soldiers gathering for their trip to base.
I walked over to them handed them seventy-five dollars. 'It will take you some time to reach the base. It will be about time for some lunch, God Bless You.'
Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers.
As I walked to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our Country. I could only give them a couple of meals. It seemed so little. A veteran is someone who at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to citizens of United States & Canada. For the amount of up to & including
PAID IN FULL XXX
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
a Pakistani school girl,
was shot in the head
because she wanted an education.
A cowardly brain dead camel humping
moronic rat bastard raghead nazi shot her
for that reason and that reason alone,
she is a female and she wanted
to obtain a decent education
and have a bright future in this
turbulent world in which we live.
Malala lived and is well on her way
to becoming a brilliant young spokeswoman
for the equality of opportunity for
girls and women all over the world.
I pray for her safety and continued success.
And may every warped brainless raghead nazi’s
sorry worthless soul burn in Hell for all eternity.
Black as the pit in the well of my dreams
I'm here all alone, and the silence is long...
I'm engulfed by the drone and the low pitch of dread
Dead reckoning beckons me to hold up my head
in a whirlwind, a gust of the fierce prairie wind
I open my eyes, with the last of my breath
There is a field of wheat, I am gasping within
My grandmother's house, in a waving mirage
is seen through the dust, just as once it had been
What do I fear? Perhaps it is death?
Perchance this is slumber, and the sleep monster taunts me,
The nightmare is haunting, as it calls through the dark
I am playing the part, I am child, just a spark
of the fire that wants me, as the field is engulfed
Heroic, and fearless, now, alas, not afraid!
An arm reaches out, and shows me the way
“You can be brave” as she lends me her hand
Shouting, "Stand by my side, let the flames be your guide"
How brave, that I am, when deep in the place
in the trace of the vaporous face of my dreams
The shades of fire, and smoke of the night
will consume me, if only, I fight off my fright
It is only my fear, that consumes while awake
of the things that are real, and things that are not
I'll not bend like wheat strands, or the flames of the fire
I'll stand tall when I wake, and will wake with new power
1//5/14 For the Contest sponsored by Poetess Darkly
"Pocket Full of Dreams"
The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking
Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died
As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence
Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt
My Story Telling Together In A Strange World
For whoever think story telling is that easy,
Would properly from this hilarious incident,
scene or whatever you might call it, would know is not.
Just some couple of months ago, I was invited
by a friend who knows me too well, back then in
school as a funny guy and story teller and so he taught this
night, that his grand pa (who is a famous story teller
of his village) had fall sick, I would be in a better position
to cover up for his father's so called responsibility
to his people. "For he (my friend's father, Williams) is a good story teller.
But what about me who has never faced
the ample crowd with my 'cripple' tale unless sharing it with friends?" I mumbled.
In the middle of this enigma, my friend, John called me to the hot seat
to tell my tale to the unbearable crowd of adolescence.
"God why am I here this day... But it shouldn't have been this day" I retorted.
The barbarian noise from the seats infront of me showed that truly I was
in the middle of something and not lost...
"Uncle tell us a story!... Brother tell us a story!" the crowd shouted.
This day, I needed a free moment but they couldn't let me be.
"Once upon a time" they heard me said and they all resited.
" I am sorry, I am sorry let me restart it all over again".
Now in old man's voice, I told my tale before them:
"Once upon a time,
In our mothers' womb, when she
Ate, we ate. Goodnight!"
They all cannot but burst to laughter while I stood and walked to the room with my
Anything after good night means nothing more till the next day.
Maybe I escaped the night by dissatisfying the emotions of those children,
in that scene, what about my friend?
"Have I not brought shame to John's family? Did I do the
right thing that full moon night?". My heart beats!
Not even do the audience remember or care to ask me: (In kid's voice)
"What if my mother do not eat while in my pregnancy, what will happen to her?" or
probably care to tell me: (Back to old man's voice) "What lesson they have derived from
the tale before their departure... Oh! No sorry, my bashful departure from their sight."
Note: The tale: "Once upon....Goodnight!" is a Haiku form of poetry.
I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear
Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm
When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane
I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes
I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries
I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs
As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call
With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay
To those who survived
war’s awful tide:
welcome back home.
Remember always that you are not alone.
We who served in earlier conflicts
include you in our daily prayers.
We know the pain you are in
about your buddies who gave their lives
so we can continue to live in freedom’s embrace.
Those who gave their all on foreign fields
are waiting in heaven for those of us
who survived hell on earth
to join them in paradise
where there is no war, no pain, no grief.
We will again some day see our friends
in a glorious place in which happiness and joy
will never ever end. Be proud of your service
to your country and your fellow countrymen.
Your service and sacrifice are appreciated
by those of us who served before you
on foreign fields in far distant lands.
Salam, how are you there?
Wassalam, good, Alhamdulillah
How about the issue in Sabah
Nothing to worry
I am worried because you are my friend
I am okay; just want to know your opinion
No probs, what do you think of that opinion?
Does it hurt you personally?
Nope, it makes sense
I am not personally taking part, I have my own problem
Indeed but I am so sad, many don’t understand the situation
They are taking one side condemning Suluk in general
So as the other Suluk in Sulu archipelago
Many also condemning Melayu in general
I always think about others
My cousin, a policeman is in the frontline
I am so sad, pray hard
Please cry with me
I am here for you to lend your cry
Can I pretend nothing happen?
We can’t pretend to be nothing to happen
Then rest and cry with me
To make people understand is not easy
Sometime we also take time to understand our situation
I am hurt to what happen, we are being fooled by colonisers
They ask us to inherit this misery
Hmmm I am so sorry to hear that
Hopefully you won’t hate the Suluk generally
So, as long as it does not contradict to my stand
What is your stand supposedly?
At least I have one good friend from Jolo ancestry
I am a good friend because you are good
I know nothing about the war; I just wanted to know the peace
It’s really easy to smile and pretend that you are okay
Rather than telling people why you are sad
It’s not easy to imagine that war
I just want to keep it by my self
I wanted to keep this in my sleep
When I wake up tomorrow
Peace is expected to blow
Let have this peace to reign right away
The poem is made through the conversation with Malay friends from Kuala Lumpur about the conflict happened in Lahad Datu. We shall never put the bangsa in general as what we are thinking is right: Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant. We need a better understanding to conclude that each bangsa like Suluk and Melayu have nothing to do with the situation. It is a matter of siding the truth and rights. I therefore personally accepted if everyone hates me because I am Suluk and that would make the world stay in peace and to save peace, I am willing to be called such: “Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant” but the “country and world is peaceful” is achieved. The war declared ended today by Malaysian authority. Let Us All Save Peace. Layag Sug. 11th March 2013, Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia!
I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown
If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view
the father sees a neighbor
screaming with child as she runs
out the front door to shelter
he hustles his own to shelter
and turns to see other neighbors
with their two dogs come running behind
the shelter's too small to hold everyone,
the father says climb in but we can't fit the dogs
the neighbors hesitate - then pull the dogs
back to their house as father shuts shelter door
in a few seconds jets and trains and
bombs overhead shiver into steel and
time stops or stretches to infinity
as flotsam shoots through cracks
father opens shelter door sure he will
witness haunting fears he knows
and runs to the pile that was
minutes ago, the neighbors house
throwing pieces of piles aside
he digs to the small space that
two hundred and ten miles per hour
had enclosed to free friends and dogs
both men shudder at their fortunes
the father, immensely glad to not
have to bear witness and grief,
the owner, who couldn't
do that to his beloved dogs
© Goode Guy 2013-12-26
And so, I have made up my mind, once more.
I have decided to depart, to bid this husk farewell.
In order to do that, I must save coins if I desire to save myself.
For with it, I will be able to buy my ticket out here to a more blessed realm or the eternal void. Either way, I will be winning.
I mustn't, any longer, feel the starvation of affection and no more I shall be fed by the crumbs of fleeting joy they toss at me.
Thoughts of finishing are always in my mind, flooding it, making hard to go day by day, making hard to sleep, to have hope.
I fail to see where the hope is, I like to think that it can be find inside of one's heart.
But even so, I think I am mistaken, and when I glance at myself in the mirror, I quickly lose any spark of what could-be hope.
With the aid of the metallic sling, I shall leave this husf behind, heavy with its sins and sorrows, to no more nourish hatred.
For it does only to hinder my advance towards elevation.
With my metallic sling, I shall pierce, first, my heart, where lies the sorrow, then, my mind, where resides the sins.
Whilst the life in me start to wane, regrets I will not have, when my consciousness fade, my spirit will be no longer be trapped inside this imperfect cage of flesh.
Being free, my spirit shall roam far and beyond to, before, unseen places by men, to untouched places by men.
Another day,someone inquired me "Are you happy now?" and for that I just said "Yes". How else could I have responded if not with a lie?
How could I tell them that I yearn for a premature closure in order to stop thinking and feeling but I also yearn for love.
"I am not absolutely happy, as per say, but I do suffer less when I am asleep" I could never say that to anyone...
Once, he had the most brilliant light
In Heaven, he'd been the star even at night
The most favored, the most beautiful
He never thought one day he'd become a fool
He was always pure, never felt insecure
Until Heaven borne one special creature
And the angels cried, the angels wondered
What would happen if they are no longer favored?
Angels watched as Heaven gave the man a special woman
My beloved one walked away, flame in his hand
Why the special gift for a man made in soil?
That was when anger and envy started to boil
The most beautiful star sat alone in silence
Heaven's in peace, can he dare start a violence?
Yes, he would for the love of Heaven
So he called all his beloved brethren
War would never do good for anyone
He knew from the sight of blood in his hands
And stared at the ground where his brethren laid
From the bloody battle, my beloved angel turned away
His wings unfurled, made of pure Heaven and glory
They were as black as night, magnificent and lovely
He made once last glance as he begun to descend
He knew he made a mistake he could never amend
It was his nature, no other pleasure than flying
But his heart broke knowing that he's falling
He landed to the ground, broken and wounded
Tears from his eyes, he felt ashamed and abandoned
He stood alone in the middle of the night
His wings dimmed, slowly fading its light
For the first time, he felt the rain on his skin
And for the first time, he shivered from the coldness of the wind
He looked up and saw his brethren
Why did they follow him, he's a Fallen
They bowed their heads, still loving him
So he decided, He's Lucifer and no longer the Son of the Morning
Conversation with older folks always
Makes us think about
How complex we are
When asked 80 to 90 percent of older people
How are they doing?
Most replies are the same
“Child I am just waiting.
To meet my maker”
From the time we were born
Plans were made for us
About our life
What are you going to be?
When we grow up
And soon has one become an adult
Our thoughts about dying
You are born then you die
Life might be simple for some
However, it a race to
get over unfairness of life
I met my third grade teacher last year
The first thing she said to me
“Did you follow your dreams?
A moment in an instant world
I felt like she were in control
She is much older now
However, nothing has change
We born, then we die
No matter how hard we try
The ropes never seem to loosen >/center>
Traveling life's murky waters,
Were these brave men.
My friends in dark jungles.
Dying for many who did not care.
Malaria and typhoid invisible enemies;
Still then, that occasional sniper bullet,
Snuffing out a life in an instant.
Fighting for country yet hated by some.
Freedom was all they tried to preserve,
While every night evil pounding helmets.
Unrelenting hatred killing one at a time;
Sometimes a dozen in one blizzard of shells.
Living in a hell on earth to protect liberty.
Seeing dead eyes of buddies seconds ago alive.
Oh to understand what terror really is;
Surrealistic death in drowning bloody color.
Brothers found de-bowled and castrated by enemy,
Bodies hanging from beautiful rain forest trees.
Life bodily fluids dripping to feed their roots,
That horror which still lives in their minds.
Flag red stripes brightened with bloodied courage;
I ask how many Americans truly realize this?
Flying Old Glory only on National Holidays,
Oh that mental pain it has caused so many soldiers.
Coming home to icy cold stares,
Murderers seen in the eyes of some Americans.
Heroes welcome buried in front pages of wrongful war;
Medals tarnished before seeing light of another day.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
The inner vision becomes blind
When cobwebs clutter the mind
With every thought of doubt
A new thread weaves about
You can no longer see
The true sight of reality
Your faith begins to slim
You can only see the grim
The self imposed web
Deceives your life ahead
You are in a tangled mess
Full of weary with no rest
The only way to get out
Is to let go of the doubt
Yes easier said than done
Negative views hit everyone
Be strong and take a stand
Believe in the good at hand
That God will see you through
No matter what you have to do
Take each step in life with ease
As you live with inner peace
Clear away the cobweb trend
It will all work out in the end
Florence McMillian (Flo)
the event occurs at the call of nightfall
like the Pied piper it attracts gallant souls
drum beats,hooting,shouting,pep talks
all the fancy one would meet in a circus
all paths trail to the house on the hill
contestants converge at his Majesty's abode
the trophy is displayed to the beholding eyes
an art of beauty and elegance like the Mona Lisa
the magnificent princess the colossus of the event
and this means war for any by the name..."MAN"
she hath a charm that would make one slay a dragon
if that were the avenue to winning her heart
The kings arrival stirs every spirit
echoes of gusto engulf the atmosphere at hand
with immense pride he wields his golden spear
a symbol of authority and power for he that claims the throne
and that marks the prologue of a remarkable event
manifested by an heavenly ballet
stars thousands across the heaven roofed coliseum
Agana the Kraal champion stands his ground
like the legendary Minotaur he's quite a scene
blood shot eyes,wrinkled face,he posses for a challenge
and the answer to his quest............."grave silence"
not a single"MAN" is brave as
to lose his head in the hands of Goliath
not a single soul felt David worthy
The Just for the Unjust
"For Christ also died for sins once for all, the Just for the unjust, so that He might bring us to God ..." 1 Peter 3:18
A Roman soldier walked down a narrow corridor in a Roman prison. He held the torch up, and back in the shadows was a man. The guard with his key opened the door and said, "Barabbas, get up and come with me." Barabbas began to plead, "No, wait, don't take me! Have mercy!" The Roman soldier said, "You're not going to die; there's somebody else who's going to die in your place. Come here. Look over on that hill. That's the cross we made for you. But there's someone else on it. He has taken your place."
In what happened to Barabbas, God arranged a perfect picture of substitution -- the just dying for the unjust that He might bring us to Himself.
Take time today to tell the Lord Jesus Christ how much you love Him and how grateful you are that He stepped out of glory and became obedient unto death--even the death of the Cross--for your sake and mine.
She sat down at the kitchen table to read his letter. Her smile faded as she read his words.
She had almost fooled herself this time. How could she believe he would actually change?
How could she believe he'd be any better?
This time she'd made up her mind. This time she could read his lies. It had only been a
matter of time before she could read between the lines. It was all here. It was so very clear.
Someway, somehow this time.
She thought back on the last few years to where she was right now. She'd come so far when
she'd gone so far away. She had ignored new opportunities and every open door. She held in
unneeded tears because none of that was worth it anymore. He certainly wasn't even worth
what she knew she had to say.
She told herself, "I know your secrets. I know your lies. I know what's running through your
mind. I know the truth. I have have the proof. All the proof I'll ever need. It's not about you
anymore and it's not even about me. It's about the fine line between right and wrong.
It's about the hardest fight you couldn't win because even you couldn't stand that strong.
It's about the trophies you thought you won and the girl you couldn't bear to lose. She'll
never forget every insult and every bruise.
You better be thanking Providence every day that your life isn't in your hands; that
Someone Greater is still there and will always be the One Who understands."
She sat there silently, deciding what to say. She couldn't believe that things had turned out
this way. It felt like another time and place. It felt like two worlds had collided and existed
only to remind her that miracles still happen every day.
She raised her head, wiped some tears that fell secretly on the sleeve of her borrowed coat,
and cleared her throat. Her words had a new meaning. A powerful new meaning. A meaning
more meaningful than ever before. It was like finally closing a trap door that had no place
"I finally have my answer. It's not what I thought it would be. It's not anything I expected to
see. It's not going to be easy, but it will be the easiest and hardest thing I've ever done.
I've been losing this fight but I think I won it tonight. I think I won it a fairly long time ago. I
just didn't really know. I finally feel like me. Like the girl I used to be. Like the girl I'm meant
to be. I believe. I finally believe. I needed a miracle and that miracle was granted to
me. I truly believe.
How do I stay soulful, without seeming like a raging goddess?
I would always be the raging sea,
Don’t sail your boats or ships upon my waters!
Expected to be slaughters, by my sharks
The rough waves: and the haunted ghost slaves.
You toss abroad, unlike the garage you scattered on my shore,
I kept your secrets; at the bottom of ocean floor
I sting your eyes, and bitter your taste:
Rock your ships from side to side
Yet, you smuggle my fish out to land:
what a disgrace!
A man would always be a man
Why did you leave the dry land and sail the ocean blue
You pirate! You luxury ocean liners: you liars
Can you hold on to my waters?
The laughter takes hold of you.
I filled myself with rage, because of the things you do
No safety nets……
I may not be in active, thus, I may be proactive,
They say I am knowledgeable, But I am also approachable,
Though I am not generalist, However, I am an Specialist.
I am persuasive and adaptive,
Direct and indirect,
Sweet, kind, nice and persuasive.
I may know less about tomato,
Even Less about mango, even too little about papeeeta,
But I know more about Angoor (grapes) that is not related to papeeeta.
I am Wine Steward, Knowledgeable in Wine,
And approachable to all kind quests,
Very talented in wine that everyone consumes to
You lift your shoulders
You bite your lip
I sure I know your feelings
Can't let this moment slip
Is it all about the timing
Will cupid shoot his bow
Shall I taste your lips today
Or again let courage go
For I have faced some deamons
Fought men near twice my size
So why does fear fall upon me
When I look into your eyes
Is it because love plays this way
It starts as a cruel game
Where two souls need to open up
And say they feel the same
The roaring sound of a freight train wind,
Blows northern snows across the prairie again.
horizontal snow that ices over eye-lashes,
Quickly brings a halt to any kind of progresses.
Shivering bones and chattering teeth,
Just a mile or so to the end that keeps,
the warmth of a fire in a pot-belly stove,
one more mile till my Wyoming home.
I can smell the fire burning on a 60 mile per hour gust,
Faint; but I can smell it just enough,
to keep my feet moving in an unmerciful land,
Please dear Lord, don't let this be my last stand.
Growing tired and weary, snow up to my hips,
I remember your kisses on my half frozen lips.
We danced in that field of purple and white,
Now, it seems I've lost my way, and I've lost my life.
I think I'll sit and rest just a bit.
Trust an airborne Ostrich like myself with clean wings as the boar
I have seen the lion sing and the songbird roar
But I stood in disbelief behold the bald eagles fly
Above the firmament’s heights implausibly the bald eagles ply
I have seen goats eat fish before nonchalant cats
Fried fish for goats and cats rummage for grass
Trust an arboreal Ostrich like myself gripping a branch with my paw
I entered Reykjavik’s warmth bolting through Hell’s frozen door
Gazing its skyscrapers and esteeming nature
The stroke of its furnace just as hot as Hell’s glacier
Sweat dripped down my eyes as I flew in fear
The reason for the smile is now same for the tear
It must be easy for you to believe an Ostrich like myself
A tiny Ostrich with a baffled heart almost enormous like an elf
Entomb my head in the sand and the funny peril is gone
Just like the soul has no mouth but its food is song
No different from my egg without doors but a chick entered
Same as God tolerant in the beginning but in the end is short-tempered
It must be difficult to trust an Ostrich like yourself
Men dub your views futile but only you know its wealth
Not wings to fly but ask for legs to run and crawl
He that advocates peace’s doppelganger starts the brawl
How far can you fly through turbulence and pours?
Now show them the farthest you can crawl when it rain cats and dogs
Juliet would stare out the window
Hypnotized by a distant old tree
That had grown in the land;
She gave a command to soothe her curiosity;
We’d leave the castle’s safety
To journey to the old tree.
I aired my opinion though it wasn’t my dominion;
I promised to protect milady and her baby,
Although it was a waste of time for anyone of sound mind;
The castle a strange thing to leave behind in all its beauty,
Still, Juliet readied the baby accordingly.
We stepped onto the step shaped like a half-moon,
Left the castle and eventually arrived at the tree,
Milady lost her fascination when we arrived at the destination,
She conceded a misplaced temptation and turned promptly;
She decided to head to the west castle door for a change of scenery,
Since we'd left from the east castle door originally.
I lead the excursion for milady and her baby,
We neared the step to the castle when suddenly
I was in quicksand up to my neck; I reached up for the step,
Turned my head in regret to see Juliet and the baby
Drowning in the sand helplessly;
Then an arm reached up and seized me.
I had to ask milady, “Where is you baby?”
I believed she’d let her go selfishly;
“Milady, go down in the sand once more and get your newborn,”
Although she looked torn, she dove in the sand sacrificially.
Time seemed to stop, I could not see anybody,
but then I reached down and they emerged victoriously.
We listened as the baby wept,
We smiled and laughed sheepishly,
The doors opened to a beautiful sight—an outpouring of warm familiar light,
Her staff greeted her happily,
Everyone went about their tasks busily,
Synchronously smiling cheerfully.
Juliet insisted that I make a sign,
To lean at the door for all to see,
So I asked if anyone would lend me a pen.
I could find none although I tried mercilessly,
A woman pointed to a staircase behind me,
“Have you asked the man upstairs where one could be?”
I went up the stairs and found a man there;
I told him what I was seeking; he smiled incessantly;
He filled my request with kindness and respect;
I wished him the best and thanked him graciously;
I returned down the stairs expediently
And wrote the sign very clearly.
No one seemed concerned about what we’d learned,
That Juliet nearly met death along with her baby;
So I took up the pen and began to write again;
I started to write this poem that all could read it personally;
If you live with cheerful people in safety,
Avoid the temptation to stray from it—especially to settle mere curiosity.
Africa has a lot of wealth,
in minerals and natural resources,
which if explored well would sustain
our livelihood, and well being;
than depending on foreign hand outs!
Some believe that many names is a
sign of stature, of importance.
How appropriate Tata that you are called
father, well as all those other monikers
Father of so many, how did you fill the time?
Three short steps, two regular, from one end
of day, to another then back again, and again
Plenty of time to think, to brew a strong disdain
yet tea and mercy are your thirst and hunger
Monumental change can come with oppressive legions,
masks on, bayonets fixed, marching,
toe-in-step, step-in-toe, closing in,
or much more slowly, with a well-tempered gait
and careful steps, feeling a way to a new life
Sharpeville a dusty, bloody turning tide
turning emergency of state to state of emergency
yet another rational, to push, to oppress,
yet another opportunity to protest saying
"a change is gonna come", yet to wait on
I remember hearing on that cold northern Sunday
that you would be released, and drop into sight
after so many seasons, I became slightly aware,
vague to the happenings of the world,
as ascension starts to awaken me
The life of president of a country is full,
full of courageous opportunity, and pitfalls,
but to transform a nation from majority oppression,
to an erect healing democracy, is a gift of stature,
of moral fortitude, decency, a respect for humanity.
Tata, the nation of South Africa, owes much
to its first democratically elected black leader
The world, owes much to the example of you.
© Goode Guy 2013-06-28
When would you cease to fight
the pain you have kept inside,
When do you learn to let go
of love not fated for you.
When would you stop pretending
of things you think is smooth sailing.
At night, I heard you weep
In the morning, I saw the stains on the sheet.
You deserve better,
better than those damn tears.
You think you are weak,
but I beg to differ you my sweet.
You are brave on your own fault,
giving your all to love at the most.
Unfortunately, to a man
who doesn't see your worth.
It is in heaven I shall live forever
the earth is my floor
and the sky is my canopy
it sends the rains to make rivers
to water me and grow me plants
for a simple sustenance
and for me a bountiful food
I do not meanly the falsehood
and concealing the truth
I do not create mischief
and trouble in my homeland
I am created from nothing
and nothing is me
and that me is secret to itself
A secret that Allah kept to discover
where I shall believe is true
nothingness is only seen from nothing
that nothing exists to prove I am nothing
that nothingness exists
in my existence it is indeed nothing
I do exist as nothing.
As I shall always need to believe
that my life would be restored
it is upon my life’s death
that Allah will teach me what I do not know
He will teach me who knows nothing
that nothing is indeed me
and without Him I really mean nothing!
UCA, Kota Kinabalu,
29 June 2014
1st Ramadan 1435
Morning came as whispers in my ear slowly says echoing I love you
The embrace and let go of the warmth of the sun and sheet move it was a cue
The voice echoing that whispers in my ears again says do you hear that?
The gurgle of the coffee, and the smell of caffeine in the air sat
A determine voice still echoing says it is time for you to get up my love
As I open my eyes I look outside as I see one dove
Cooing me, and it's bright white feathers has gotten my attention
As I looked around my dream of my love disappears as it put me into depression
A sadness crackled into my heart, and a discerning look came to
I wake up every morning hearing her voice in the summer morning dew
I believe my words meets you in good state of mind
Do you believe africa can become a better continent?
Young pepole must change their attitude__any part
of their mindset holding them back!
If so,they should set goals to improve their behaviour
and find solutions to challenges facing africa.
Young people must work twice as hard to make africa
a better continent:
We have no time to waste but to make this continent
that the LORD gave us a better place for
Our children must be able to hit the ground running
to get somewhere meaningful.
We must work wholeheartedly in order to transform static
policies since we got independence!
Africa should not be the only continent in the world where
outsiders find cheap commodities and slaves
to improve their economies!
That backwater theory must change,something beautiful
needs to happen very quickly!
Spectators have portrayed africa's reign as a missed
opportunity to tackle problems___
A yawning rich-poor gap to stiffly politics
and controversial policies__
That africa's collective leadership have been too timid
to implement good governance policies
because of remote controlled influence!
Something wonderful must happen to our mindset__
Europe or America did not develop in one day!
And technology did not fall from heaven___
but it was invented and innovated.
Where africa cannot create,let us buy advanced
to make rock-solid industriariazation
I believe,africa's economy can grow to become among
the world's largest economies___
And our per capita income can quituple!
*To my fellow africans both living in africa or outside africa
Everywhere I go, industry dominates this world
Vehicles run on diesel,
Massive industrial complexes have many factories
That create a skyline of smokestacks
The heavens are filled with a gray only we have created
Man and machine have come together
Like haywire to wire,
Generating a power countries only dream of
Diesel, our main power source,
Allows massive airships with smokestacks of their own
To block out the sun
Nations around the world use machines for industry, war and everyday life
It seems the planet will come to a complete standstill…
As an inhabitant of this industrialized world,
None of what I see around surprises me…
For I have lived in the midst of man’s mechanical reign
All of my days
But I often worry and question our remaining humanity
Some of us have grown prideful and cold
Nations have fought us
Merely to prove their weapons are stronger and better
At times I even wonder if we could
Possibly find other ways to go about our lives—
Like alternative fuel sources
Maybe it seems like the world is industrializing too fast
But no one seems to notice that after the Great War,
Industry spread like a weed that would not stop growing,
No matter what you did to it
One must begin to wonder
How long this kind of life can possibly last
I long to feel the sun on my back,
And to breathe in fresh air untouched by the fumes I know too well
Can we use what we have,
Can we use what we live for,
To build each other up,
Rather than destroying all in our path?
Shall we put our hearts into the cores of our unfeeling machines,
Or will we turn to Mother Earth with reverence and passion?
Taking and never giving back,
How can we expect our planet to provide and sustain us?
August 20th, 2014
Collaberation by Justin Connor and Laura Breidenthal
Two questions to ponder:
What do you think will become of this dieselpunk world?
How can this message apply to life in your own society?
Your bundle of joy I was, you were mine,
The strength of our love knew no bounds,
Limitless adventures were our portion,
The taste of your lips, as divine as the softness of your touch,
Making out with you, an adrenaline rush.
Time has passed, that era has ended,
Arguments have taken the place of conversation,
We know each other's touch no more,
Broken I make you without effort,
To the point where you desire to sever our ties,
But our destinies are tangled vines,
An item we are destined to be.
A period I'll dedicate to you,
To make our weaknesses strengths,
To make our understanding full,
So our love can be restored to its glory
is being stuck in the elevator with that hot flirty associate
Clive Christian lux on him invigorating your senses
inviting muscles clearly designed on the twill tight shirt
his butt narrating all there is to know bout "his good loving."
he is the 'baller and the club manager'
and everything about him screams come get me baby
and everything in you screams "All ready for you papi!"
Finding the strength and courage to suppress all that want
closing eyes and recalling that ugly fight with your spouse this morning
and knowing too well you would rather go home to him/her even though you might not be getting none tonight.
Marriage is knowing the betray,the guilt,and the self-disgust that comes after the deed on temptation is not worth it!
Gladly Coming home to you baby after five!!!
Now I lay me down to sleep, my woman close and tight in my arms I need. There in
the soul I am lost but no without. My comfort void but needs to which fills the
night. My dreams endless but in hopes I live on. It is my last breath I feel
before my eyes close in darkness. My heart beats once in time of passions
passing. The love torn as if run through a briar patch it leaves blood stain
trail. But in strength it can not be beaten as it stands strong of life's
experience. It is of my heart I cry the tears I do but none the less I am still
a man with flaws of flesh you see. But it is my heart my soul lives and die. But
of life I fight and struggle to stay alive. For what reason, I have no reason
why. All I know, is I am only human cause that's the way my spirit was sent in
life. Even that of an animal his path is choosen before entering this world.
That no matter what the cause, life is not easy you see. That even the animal
can die of life's pain and torture and lost of no one there to hold him tight.
But even that of our souls we both fight the same. We all just want be love and
care for by someone deep. But we just want to live to love in life before we see
them skies of blue. But know I love you even to my death I die and bury with me.
That this day I fight just to be a part of your life. But just to be I dream
this night of sleep.
MINE not YOURS
Did your day meet adversary in the face? For I the LORD have proven myself to you, over a thousand times.
I’ve been with you in your corner,
Your foot have not fallen or slipped, through it all I’ve been right there beside you.
Do you not understand the reward for finishing the race?
Do you not deserve rewards for staying the course? When all around you others seem to be failing,
Am I not with you?
If love equal to victory, then have I failed in my love to you?
If I’m powerful would I let you slip through the cracks?
Forces can try to bind you, but you can move
In all this I say na, for not once have you fallen or slipped from my sight.
You reside in the eyes of the LORD, yours are forever and eternal
I repeat these are MY words not YOURS
All people have problems and troubles in the world.
Provide children someone to love and be loved,
Help them have someone to walk with as far as they wish.
Give them wisdom or understanding and knowledge to do what is right and what is wrong.
Help children have strength and courage to face their oppressors who tease and bully them
Those who gather socialize and trade their images
Children who are being rape and abuse
Enlighten people to realize their horrifying acts
Please help children choose the right decisions to the things that happens
Help the children's attitude towards people.
Give them fortitude or strength to hope for their brighter future
Help them reach their teenage years in peace
Give them courage to face their trials,
Perseverance to strive hard to reach their best and be successful
Help them have Patience and Tolerance when dealing with hardships
Comfort them mentally and physically to be calm.
We ask this through Your Son, Fr. Christ
Who lives and reigns with You forever and ever.
Today under a rainy day, needed words of encouragement.
I wanted to feel the cold air against my warm skin.
Nothing about my day seemed to connect.
It's been a while.
Too many things mean a lot to me.
The raising sun.
The clear full moon on a cold midnight.
Can't coupe. Can't really become One.
Nothing resembles the times I used to know.
I have lost the other side of me.
Don't know how bad this is.
Would not like to find out either.
Memories, that's all there is to it.
Like a huge flashback.
Stronger than my cranium, covering my shivery body.
But yet here I am.
Walking on yesterday's strong emotions. I go on.
Day after day.
Just like yesterday.
I saw you standing by the door.
Gazing at the outside world through the thick,clear, and strong glass door.
There you were,like being protected against the current.
Mean while, me and the against the flow battle, to move either backwards or forward.
The constant struggle does not seem to ease.
The chances of becoming One, with the other I would like to find goes on.
I saw you standing by the door, and so it continues.
Here we are against all possibilities.
Standing strong and steady for one another.
Side by side.
From a distance.
We stand between your strong glass door and my strong feelings.
That's what marks the end of a day and the beginning of yet another...
Some people say I'm to dark,
and I'm not talking about my skin,
its what I writing with my pen.
I know my words
can sometimes come out to strong,
but I'm like "oops sorry,
I'll just turnover the page and start a new song."
But depending how I'm feelin at that time,
determines how I write my rhymes.
And no matter what the day may bring,
I will always make my pen dance and sing,
from the joy that onlyThe Lord can bring.
I will express myself
from every depths of my heart and mind,
with every one of my poetry lines.
So with every word that I write,
I'm relying on God's glorious light.
I turn the light on,
look into the mirror,
I see the past.
These clothes I wear,
went down a negative path.
An anomalous memory can trigger the melancholy adolescent;
Only when I stumble across your scent.
Then I know I have to go to church to repent,
these subsequent actions I want to do to you....
Excuse my disarray impulsive mind,
My dreams haven't been rational lately.
Forgotten by my society,
Me branded a monster,
Forgotten by my destiny,
Years back, a youngster.
Its not a dream, not even a tale,
Firmly held onto the grassy ground,
A day in my hand petrol in a purple bale,
And I knew I would never be found.
Darkest period of the night,
It was, with a group I thought right,
Tip-toed into our teacher's home,
We came to finalize, to set it ablaze.
Wails, yells, groans I heard,
Trembling with fear I grew mad,
Helter-skelter paced hard, ran hard,
Nowhere to go, not even a yard.
Then came a furious crowd,
Loud and rowdy, emotions sad,
Unable to say, not even a word,
Beaten, I was left for the dead.
Every now that seems lost,
Never give up, no matter what cost,
Every obstacle that seems high,
Fold sleeves, give a second try,
Everyday is a chance to do better,
Take my advice, you youngster,
For the world ain't a place to discove
I talk to myself in many voices
Having conversations with myself
Answering my own questions
Thinking it is something else
The mind can play tricks
If you let it
It can convince you of anything
The conscious and subconscious mind
At times feels separate
From each other
Not connecting as well as it could be
A detachment from the brain
Lost in translations
Of many conversations
To feel safe and calm
The fear of losing yourself
When no one hears or believes you
Feelings and thoughts
Put on a dusty shelf
Not everything is clear
But I am totally aware
Of what is going on
Many layers of words
Coming out of nowhere
Can scare the mind into submission
Eating pieces away of your soul
Feeling all alone
In your psychotic turmoil
Who will be there in the end
If I go numb and cannot see
Love me as I am
Or set me free to be me
In a deep sleep, I fell upon the fields, tired, rejuvenated, and blessed
Wandering in many a dream
A warm sun creeping from the heavy cream clouds woke me up
And I felt His presence once again
Sitting up, I rubbed my weary eyes and smiled sadly,
"He...He spoke to me, and He granted me love, with dreams of hills,
Prairies filled with sunflowers, hares dashing about in joy,
The soft rains from supple clouds tickled my frowns to smiles,
And a turkey from afar winked at me with knowing assurance."
Christ lifted me up and kissed my forehead gently,
"My silly, lovely sister, good morning,
Come with me. . .
We shall talk for a little while,
And then you will be away for a time."
His expression grew grim...
"Yes, my sister, lessons will be learned,
Keep your faith, and your heart will guide you,
Do not give in to the lies of the ancient serpent,
Whom you will see in a very short while
Talk with him, be with him,
But if his claws wrap around your innocent throat,
I am told to not intervene, for this is the test God has given you"
I looked at Christ lovingly and embraced him
"Thanks be to God, for this gift of opportunity,
Tell me how long with the serpent shall I stay?"
He held me tightly for a moment,
Then looked at me with tears in his eyes
"The Lord God Almighty had visited me last night,
Telling Me to take you to the pit,
Where Satan and his demons thrash,
And for 40 days and 40 nights you shall remain there,
Then you shall see how his mind decays in his ways
That his pride and his servitude of lies and murder slashes all thought of change
That repentance to him, is failure, weakness, and far below him..
You shall soon see if it is possible to save one that does not wish to be saved"
I took Christ's hands
"Do not be afraid for me, my brother,
I am ready for this test
I am ready to face him and give my say,
Though my purpose is risky,
My heart is filled with Your grace,
And I know even in darkness, God is there
Perhaps I mean not to save him,
But to understand him
I only hope You see the strength in me to fulfill such a thing"
Smiling, He lifted me in the air and twirled me
"Oh precious, magnificent sister!
I never doubt your strength,
For your glory reflects off the face of your Almighty Father
Your questions have filled His heart with gladness and warmth,
Your innocence is precious and fills Him with joy
Testing you, He has no doubt-
Though know mistakes can be made, and will be no less dire
Therefore, be wary in the dark,
For in it you will face illusion, sadness, desire, anger, and all evil shrouding,
No good advice will be given along the way,
It is merely you and Satan, eye to eye
And the terrible shrieks of the demons at his feet still shall tempt"
Departing from Christ with few last words,
He lead me to the bottomless pit, which is sealed and impenetrable
Advising me to wait, He disappeared from view,
The last of the light I would witness, fading into the mysterious eve
I stared at the mighty seal in awe
Rough rock and black soot surrounding the dread inside...
Once in a while I meet a person whose eyes tell their story
The story is like the sky reflection on the seas of glory
The eyes are all the wonder of the world
It sees the future, past, and present
The eyes give us knowledge of the world and reflection
The reflection of sadness and weakness of each creature
The wonder of each individual being has a present
To the world who has lots of false images
To arise the moment of that one glance
To follow the heart in romance
Just the reflection that gather in your eyes of blue
What a man and a woman should view
Life is such a pain without stopping to see each eyes
Its like roses you have to enjoy each passion in side
When that moment collides with mind and heart
Nothing in your soul can keep your love apart
Join in the fun look in every eyes of a person beside
With passion and romance I bet you, you would cry
The luster of all the things to come
A bounty of life long needs to be given by just the wonders of the eyes
The blue seas reflects the different depths of our feelings
And it should become revealing
Come to your senses with ravaging hormones of lust
The sea can take you and even the reflection in the eyes of the person
The beauty is not held by one it is held by everyone
Such looks with fear for no relief
Is almost a dreadful part in our human nature
Beware of what can happen when emotions are held
Held to the core of an individual
No such thing is kindness when you find yourself in the Sea Blue Eyes
Calling in your soul by just looking
With ignorance you play around with such futile emotion
Gush away the fear and do not go insane with life so dear
The grasp of the titans comes to reveal
The evil within your heart is so obscenely noticed
You want the sea and you want those eyes to look at you with wishes
The rage in the heart are waves that cannot stop
It pushes and pushes with no regret
The heart falters and there is only one thing in your mind
The idea of one soul to be with is the ocean
The rifts that is trying to break to end the wants of desire
Cannot be trusted in a human lier
The beauty of man is destruction
The beauty of women are commands
The eyes of each does not matter in the sea
Because all emotion and desire is given to those who are true
Command of a person is just one thing
The desire to destroy is another
The Sea Blue Eyes will see no bother cause it bares it all
Even the utmost desire
To be continue.
And it was as God and His Word had said –
I watched the lions and the cattle alike grazing,
Laughter filled the roads of righteousness,
Each action was a kiss from the Spirit,
Flowing in all of us—those of like mind, and those of great heart
In all of the happiness, I felt something rather strange,
It was almost a sadness…I couldn’t quite put my finger on it
As I watched the children play with the serpents and scorpions,
I felt His breath behind me…
In reverential sorrow, I turned and knelt before him and smiled,
Christ lifted me before I objected and looked into my eyes
“Dear one,” He said, His voice soft spoken, yet clear
“Something baffles you; I know it to be so. . .”
I looked at him and sighed, “Surely you know my Lord…”
His eyes glistened as He laid His holy hand upon my shoulder
“Ask, and it will be given to you…”
I smiled, remembering that was the very verse I had studied that morning
He laughed jovially at my slight surprise
“Yes, Lord Christ, as You said, knock and it will be opened.”
He smiled again, with a hint of knowing
Peace rushed over me, and my curiosity and love grew…
“Christ almighty, son of God,” I began, taking his open hands,
“Something baffles me, indeed. Something troubles me even,
And I have long tried to push it from my mind.”
Squeezing my hands, he remained silent and sober,
Patiently waiting for me to continue…
“Here I am, among the fields, watching the lion and the cattle,
Smiling at the fearless children I have helped nurture,
Kissing back the waters of Your Holy Spirit…
Yet Lord, though my eyes never stray from the beauty of these lands,
My mind often goes to a very dark place,
A place that I wish You can bring to light,
A place where the tormented one thrashes and screams,
And no one hears him!
He is ignored, tormented by his own thoughts
Bashed by the stone of Alone
Cradled in the dust of the abyss…
He, in darkness dwells, as we in light rejoice…
I feel for him, Christ, I do…
Is this right?”
He stared at me long and smiled at me again
“Agape love is always right, dear sister
You are a thoughtful, intense, and kindhearted woman,
Mercies of the Almighty God reflect off your dimples,
Though I have long noticed your drift…
Many days I have contemplated the same,
Though well we all know God’s plan is perfect.
And His mercies are beyond the world and I…
He will hear you… He will always consider your concerns. ”
Silently, I absorbed his reply and sighed
Noah suddenly walked over to us and embraced Christ and I
“Hello fellow sister, hello Christ,
May I share this with you to ease your mind?
I Noah, when the world was awry,
Fell down upon my knees and asked God for mercy,
In His planning to destroy the world, He heard my request…
He heard my request and changed His plan according to my righteous works,
In good will, giving mercy onto man yet again,
Though Man’s ways continued, throughout time, in sin…”
I nodded, understanding Noah’s input
“Thank you Noah, and thank you Christ,
I think I know what I must do…”
Their rending cries, when all is still, reecho in the moonlight;
They lie about in fitful slumber on the ground at noonlight,
Their virgin hair spread in the dust; for nothing really matters:
Who then will see their tangled locks, their dresses all in tatters,
The myriad trails of tears on dusty faces robbed of gladness,
The haunted eyes all swollen red, such depthless pools of sadness?
It seems that they could melt the rocks to tears of lamentation,
There being not a hope for fair Celena's preservation.
Both months have passed; the time has come. Celena must be going;
She wanders to her father's house, while dreading, fully knowing
The manner and the time of death; she sees the gory vision
Of being bound, awaiting fate for Jephthah's poor decision;
Her trusting eyes both fixed on his, both filled with untold torture;
The final sight her eyes will see before her soul's departure:
Yet still she presses on, determined, lest the Lord in fury
Rain down his wrath for promise broken in a deadly flurry
On father and his wife and daughter, nation, tribe, and village,
And curse their life and health and plenty, oxen, sheep, and tillage
With sword or pestilence or famine, plague or deportation;
Thus one, though innocent, must die to ransom all her nation.
Beside his doorway Jephthah stands, all torn with deep confliction
Between the hope that she'd been killed, or lost her path's direction,
And longing just to see again his daughter, but for fleeting
Bitter moments, and to chisel in his mind the soft, yet wild beating
Of her heart against his own. Alas! A heart cast down in sorrow,
Dread, and fear: a heart run short of precious moments which to borrow.
Look! There she comes; the tearful maiden, followed by companions;
Bedraggled garments torn, and faces streaked with dust of canyons.
The bravest of them turn away with looks of wretched terror,
Departing to their distant homes, while trembling footsteps bear her
To where he stands, and wordlessly in this, their final parting,
Embraces her, and feels each heartbeat softly, wildly beating;
While that of his is softly, wildly, e'er so slowly bleeding.
Then hand in hand they tread together to the highest hilltop;
In Jephthah's grasp a wicked knife and fresh-picked bunch of hyssop.
With leather cord he binds her tight and lays her on the altar:
He takes in hand the fearsome blade, but there his fingers falter;
For sapphire eyes, Celena's eyes, into his own are bearing,
And seeing hurt and pain and fear, his firm resolve is tearing.
Jephthah's visage wilts and quavers, as if he would save Celena;
Then she speaks, his brave Celena, dutiful and grave Celena,
"Father, do it! Slay me now! E'er resolve is gone forever:
E'er I break and cry for mercy; then you know that you could never
Do this deed of you required." He with one last look of dolor
Into eyes so wide and fearful, thrust the knife and crimson color
Spread and trickled from her chest. So there it was! The deed completed.
There one moment, gone the next. The only thing he really needed
Frittered on a foolish vow. His only joy, his only child
Pale and still, and in her place a torture aye unreconciled.
Shaking fingers set the purest, sweetest offering afire,
Half expecting, hoping, wishing, as the hungry flames grew higher
That his precious sleeping daughter waken from her dreamless slumber;
But, alas! She ne'er could waken. Now he must be of the number
Whose lineage drifts away with them; who know no satisfaction:
Thus Jephthah grasped the wicked blade with sudden thought of action
And cut a yard-long lock of hair before the flame consumed her,
Then faced away; he could not face the awful way he'd doomed her;
Instead he snapped the blade in two and fell down by the altar
Crying, "Take this shame away from me, O Lord! And do not fault her
For dying in this time and fashion; let the blame be solely carried
By myself: oh, let her spirit live in peace!" And then he buried
His weeping head into his helpless arms, and kept on sobbing
Until the flames had burnt to cinders, thus forever robbing
Him of the chance of ever seeing sweet Celena's features.
Then he arose and stumbled home, not seeing all the creatures
Who stood their ground in utter silence, crying for Celena;
Nor all the girls at every doorfront, sighing for Celena;
Thus never knew but one man's heart was dying for Celena.
In Dunkersfield Lies A Neglected Grave
In Dunkersfield lies a neglected grave
last vestige of a precious life gave
No massive stone to mark the resting spot
of a simple man that gave all he got
Town people say they knew him so well
had big secrets he'd never dare tell
One was about a child he'd never seen
bastard son of a lady named Ilien
Others solemnly swear he kilt' a man
beat him with that mighty right hand
Hard truth lies somewhere in between
his life imagined and one he had seen
Ole Stoner Ace was a gambler for sure
had lots of women, none were too pure
Worked that farm, won on a lucky bet
hard life even for a tough combat vet
No church did he ever bother to attend
lived alone with not a single friend
Money sent to pay for nephew's school
kept his secrets, was nobody's fool
Christmas night he died old and alone
his savings given away, every penny gone
Good deeds he always kept to himself
bad maybe but he always was topshelf
In Dunkersfield lies a neglected grave
last vestige of a precious life gave
No massive stone to mark the resting spot
of a simple man that gave all he got
Robert J. Lindley, 01-23-2015
NOTE: Poem was written based upon the real life of a friend's uncle.
A tough old bird that had quite a reputation. Lived a wild life as young man
and had served time in prison for beating a man to death that had stabbed him in
the back in a barfight. My Dad knew him well. Told me that he was an upright guy
that came out of prison and left the wild life behind.
Sometimes life just beats the hell out of you and if you are lucky you still
manage to survive!
There she is the false image standing quietly
She is just standing looking at a beautiful flower
She notices her passion of earthy desire
Something is happening she burst into the sun
I look up as her hands grasp my face
Her sea blue eyes gazed at me
Her warm hand and then a bright light blinded me
I went down on my knees and cried
The salty water dropped on to the ground
I live by the ocean so deep
I do not know how to swim
By the thought of a beautiful look
That made me shake
With fear in my head I saw those Sea Blue Eyes
I cannot restrain myself she burst into the sun
What is going on is it just the feeling of being left behind
She was a desire and now I have none
Driving nuts and insane what will I do
Believing such a image is a dream
I walk on the sand by the ocean with flowers in my hand
Raising it to the sky and trying my best to lure her
The image came close
It pulled me into the ocean I was soaked
What a lonely human being I am
I grope the sky with such desire
I look pitiful and look anguished
What horrible feeling I have to pull the beauty that is nature down
The wind blew one day the image once more appeared
A young woman standing beside a flower with deep Sea Blue Eyes
Looked at me a glance of hope and happiness came
I reached for her and all of a sudden I fell into a deep sleep
Months past they had told me that I jump off a cliff
They explained that the flower patch was by it
I realize heaven and earth cannot be reached with out a sacrifice
With meaningless thoughts I would wonder of to the cliff area
To see the ocean were it meets and ends
I was told a story long ago that the feelings of the ocean can seep into your soul
The trend of this story came shortly after some deaths
I was fooled the lady with the Sea Blue Eyes can manipulate anyone
Ladies and men, she is an illusion of the utmost desire
Blaming everyone human kind knowing they are lyres
The ghostly images that creeps everyone is oneself
Desire falls upon those who are lonely
Believe of the unnatural becomes science
The Sea Blue Eyes is no lie cause they have been taking souls
Through century they have been taking souls for tolls
I stood once again near the ocean reaching to the sky
Lonely I was ready to disappear
One day she not the lady of the sea it was the one I knew
I was blessed that day she embrace me
I then fell into a slumber of bliss and desire
Now I just hear voices and I am paralyze down
A disappointment I was fooled once more by the Sea Blue Eyes
To be continue.
When rich Hollywood asswipes
criticize a dead war hero
such as Chris Kyle,
they can expect major blowback
from surviving vets like me.
Such ungrateful SOBs
are the ultimate “Ugly Americans”.
I saw this picture and it reminded me of many great and endless thoughts, dreams, wishes, but mainly my old life and how much more fun it could be now that I am older.
If life used to be that beautiful and spontaneous why the hell did I let it ever end. Not just the girl- not even the girl. That passion for life, for the smallest thing t hat I take for granted now. On the picture it says love or lust.
Why not loving lust-lusting for love. Waking up in the morning laughing for no reason and having an adventure every day. I feel like I went to sleep eight years ago and I am just now slowly waking up.
Better late than never.. to be honest this picture helped my self-induced coma. I simply felt that if I let myself feel for the person in the picture the way I did and things turned out the way they did. Well it kind of made me an ass....It also made me appreciate things that I never would have. I'll be the first to admit that it is been way overdue. When I see this photo now I just smile and it reminds me that I am capable of whatever I want. I miss that feeling and I can' t believe I let it take this long. Any way, I am ready for a new life; I am not sure what is in front of me, but I am ready to find out.Ten years later she came back and we were engaged but karma didn't agree.Though when i wake up i always smile you see.