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Narrative Girl Poems | Narrative Poems About Girl

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

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Sweetest Love Note

One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."


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Let Her Dream

She'd smile sometimes in that rocking chair
I'd wonder what was going through her mind
Sometimes joking with her about going cruising
Radio blasting, and she'd laugh
Get a six pack, Peggy, and we'll put the top down
I'd watch her eyes light up and she'd be back there
Doctors say it won't be long
But for a while, Peggy was a girl again
So let her dream
Let her dream of days long past, memory fading
Childhood fantasies, little girl laughter
Let her dream
Hey! How's my girl, ready to go
Big smile and a “Yeah” then fade off
So let her dream.
Stopped in one day and they told me Peggy's gone
Life's too short no matter what the years
Said a prayer, shed a tear and asked Our Lord
Please let her dream.


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To Elizabeth

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eye'd,
Such seems your beauty still. 
~ William Shakespeare


I have looked into the mirror
Looking for a trace....a trace of my youth
A trace of the girl that I used to be...
Is she there?  Buried deep? Is she still part of me?

Years can't be halted, change can't erase..
And there...in my face, are the lines of experience
Stories and time...I see staring back at me
A part of me wants to grieve for that girl
The girl that I was..   Has she vanished for good?

Oh, I do understand....
That I can't hang on to "then"..
To days long ago, when time was our friend
When summers, together,  seemed never to end
But, then............ , here by chance, we meet up once again.....

Our friendship born in childhood..so young, and carefree
You...with bright eyes, and brown hair that fell long
Around your high cheeks ...and a wide, gamin smile!
You were the one who's light shined so brightly
Who's charm, laugh, and wisdom I fondly admired
A girlhood where we danced together in sweet grass under sunny skies
And under nighttime stadium lights, to the music of the high school band

After years, that have taken us to separate worlds
In my mind, and in my dreams you have always been
The fair maiden, the one who held my hand
Two girls who made promises...who sat in the dark, under a summer sky
And talked of our "somedays", of our future, our hopes
By the light of the moon, we wished upon the stars

Now here in this moment, I have found you again
And here in this moment, I have found "me" again....
I can be that girl again....as we share our history
our moment in the sun, ....I am "her", again!..
I can be that child, I can be fifteen, I can wear a crown, upon a teenaged throne... 
And I can still dance to the sound of the drum, and the tuba,
I can sing football songs, and gossip about the boys, 
   and make fun of the stuck-up girls
     and laugh about the teachers we didn't like, 
                   and about the night of the prom, when I cried in your arms

I can hear Johnny Mathis singing "Misty", and the words will make me weep
       I can hear "Canadian Sunset" as it lulls me off to sleep

Perhaps the stars have faded a bit...but beyond the weary miles
They still shine when I look into your eyes...my dear friend, from the past...
They will shine through the ages.........where a summer will always  last....
         
                      ~                                    ~


For Frank's Contest:


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Wild Flower

Wild Flower
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 In Death Of A Rose by Nate Spears
 
Rescue this sunflower
It's capable of being a ray of light
Nurture it, value it, and love it
Its petals are more delicate than they appear in sight
 
 A wild flower it is; but it displays beauty
The facts of its species remain unknown
Its fight to reach its true potential is admired
It’ birth to existence is undetermined
 It’s roots shows trauma
Its presentation brings hesitates to potential caregivers
No one's prepared to take a chance
This flower is destined to win
 
All earthly roots sprout from above
At some point in a life’s span; we could use a kiss or hug
 He who refuses to display any element of the wild
Is merely real
An artificial representation of life
Stuck in Styrofoam surrounded by fake moss and dust
No breath, no soul, non-existence
A human being choked from an outer dimension.
Rescue this wild flower with love.


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Me Myself I

                        A girl was born a beautiful summer day
                 She had beautiful blue eyes and light curly hair
                            The girl ...... it was me myself I
                      My mother has told me that I was a kind
                                     and happy baby
                    The baby became a chubby girl who liked to
                          play with soft teddy bears and dolls
                           Chaunted and singing all day long,
                                 yes I was a happy little girl


                             When I was seven years old and the
                                 commitments hour had come
                       First day at school, dressed in a dress with
                                  flowers and ribbon in my hair
                        I wanted out of the classroom, I wanted to be
                      free to play, sing and dance.... be free like a bird
                          Plus, minus and A-B-C... yes it all could wait
                      School years passed by and I learned: plus, minus,
                                   A-B-C and more than that


                   "Almost adult" - a teenager, yes waithing for the time
             Girls with menstruation, and acne wich we covered with powder
                         Boys with pimples, wich reflects like flashlights
                           Girls who "giggled" of everything and nothing
                          Boys who speakes with deep voices that bursts
                                     Interested in the opposite sex
                                       It`s was an exciting time ... 
                                     Distance love, blushing cheeks
                                              Will you be mine?
                             Go hand in hand and perhaps a gentle kiss
                               Heartbreaks....well who has been there?


                But as in a fairytales the princess meets her prince, they are
                   in love....married... and have many other commitments,
                                         work, home and children
                               Fairytales have always a happy ending
                                          What about the reality?






02212012
A-L Andresen


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A Woman's Worth

A Woman’s Worth
By Nate Spears


Her purpose in this world is hurting
She’s never been a designed of perfect
But she is a mom, so she’s super
She works
She cleans
Then roll up her sleeves ; and
Take care of the kids; and
The house 
Making it a home
For a beautiful family to roam
Building wonderful memories
Becoming a woman of worth
Keeping her faith through Christ
Keeping her pace through health
Keeping her sanity through managing
This is a woman’s worth 
I’m giving you


Despite of all the stress 
She receives her family with open arms
Through all the mess
She’s a fantastic mom
A wonderful woman 
Deserving a round of applause
Plus a standing ovation
For always being an American sensation
That held this continent down since day one
Since the Plymouth Rock landed on us
Thank you for her giving
Thank you for her living
Thank you for her children
This is ,
A woman’s worth.


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Girl Rising

Girl Rising Unwanted Child Since the day of her birth, she was not wanted. Her mother rejected her. She was brought into this world by a mid wife. Her mother already had a lot of kids and didn't want anymore. The mid wife told her - it's a beautiful little girl. The mother said - I don't want her. You can keep her. I don't even want to see her. The mid wife and her husband adopted her and raised her as their own. She would be their youngest child. They already had eight kids. She was loved from the beginning. They raised her, send her to school, she graduated and went off to college. While in collage she fell in love, but her boy friend jilted her. Her heart was broken, but she still went on and finished college. After college - she went to Chicago to live with her sister. There she met a young man, that liked her from the start. They met in church. After a year of courtship, they got married. They had a beautiful wedding. They both worked hard. This was in the early 80's. They raised 6 kids. Two are now married. She has a very important job in a bank. They now own three buildings. She got to meet her real mother at her mom's funneral. She asked her - why are you crying? They weren't even your real parents. She answered - They were the only parents that I ever knew. She went back to Chicago and never saw her again. She lives happy with her family. Both her parents that raised her have now passed away....
08/04/2013 Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo Note: I believe that this is a real success story of a girl rising. It is true. My husband and I were sponsers at her Wedding. She is my best friend's baby sister.... For Richard's contest ( Girl Rising )


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The Christmas Kiss

I was sitting in the crowded train station with time to waste, waiting on the train to take me home on Christmas Eve.  A very pretty, young lady, carrying a full backpack headed for one of the only open seats across the aisle from me next to a rather dirty and disheveled older man.

As she removed her backpack to sit down he glared up at her; she smiled a beautiful bright smile and said to him, “Merry Christmas”.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas”, he barked up at her.

“Yeah?  Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy on the day that I celebrate Christmas.  And I hope the day is merry for you as well.”

“What is there to be merry about”, he moaned, “A bunch of hypocritical religious zealots pretending to be nice to one another while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.”

“Well, at least for that one day, most of us believe the hypocrisy, and even for just a few hours, we practice the morals that our religion tries to instill in us.  At least on that one day, for us religious zealots, there is a glimmer of hope that we can save the world from going to hell and, I, for one, believe that is reason to be merry.”

“Terrific!  And, what does that get me,” he whimpered.
	
“Well, what you get is this one time of year, when a twenty-two year old college girl is not afraid to sit next to you; smile at you; and, wish you a Merry Christmas.  And, if you just say, ‘Thank you’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ back to her, she just may give you the biggest and best kiss you have ever experienced.”

She stood back up and started to put her backpack back on as he simply stared up at her.  Once she was situated and ready to move on towards her train, she stopped; smiled at him again; and, said, “Merry Christmas.”

It seems I was not the only stranger that was witnessing this exchange.  All of those around me were perched on the edge of their seats waiting to see what might happen.  The old man cracked a little smile.  A glimmer came to his eyes, and he said, “Thank you.  And, Merry Christmas to you, too.”

The girl leaned down and planted a kiss right on his lips for what seemed like ten minutes.  Smiles lit up the faces of all the men, women and children watching this take place.  When the girl finally pulled back, the old man was frozen in place with a big ole smile on his face.  She adjusted her backpack and started heading towards the tracks.  All the men she passed on her way who witnessed this exchange anxiously yelled, “Merry Christmas” as she passed, hoping for a kiss as well.

I looked back at the old man who was still in a dream.  Suddenly he caught me looking at him and barked, “What are you staring at?”

I just shook my head back and forth and said, “Merry Christmas”.

“Yeah!  Well Merry Christmas to you, too” he shouted.


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My Motivations in Poetry

My love of poetry started when I was still a five- year old child When my parents asked me to memorize verses and rhymes With all my feelings and actions, I recited my poems in front of a crowd Innocently receiving adulations but not a handful of dime The first piece I memorized was entitled, “Cradle Hymn” I was a small girl sent in a poem competition, so naïve When I’ve grown up , I realized it’s a song lyric with Christmas theme So, I sang it and started to develop my good voice quite a bit When I was a teenager, I memorized speech and declamation pieces My teacher sent me in a poem contest for a campaign against drug addiction I tried to deliver my piece like a candidate for a star award actress Acting like a drug addict teenage girl longing for parents’ love and attention As years went by, I turned out to be quite a flirty lady With puppy love and sweet crushes to some guys around me When one of them got me, so happy until I forgot all about reciting poetry Relationship went long but when we broke up, it created another life’s story All my heart brokenness has turned me out to be a poem writer I also wrote few poems for my family, dreams and for close friends’ requests My passion of poetry blazed and turned out to be greater When I found a writing spot, motivated and inspired by my friends-the great poets
Feb. 6, 2013 First Place Contest: Who What Where Judged: 4/23/2013 Sponsor: Poet Carol Sunshine Brown


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True Valentine

True Valentine
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears

A lost woman the mirror reflects
Young; and it’s apparent
I can see it in her eyes
No focus and childbearing
Just ass, legs, and thighs in mind
No marriage

If she knew better
Learned better; and
Wanted better,
He would show her a better way of living
Instead of dealing with cowards
Seek a man with moral and merit
He’s stealing your joy
He’s bringing you pain
Removing your youth
He’s playing games

The truth at heart is
Reality should be your first thought
Loneliness is not your fault
It’s a part of life for most
Don’t let it destroy your values 
Just wait,
You’ll find a true love to treasure you.


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Red

Little Red was riding all alone

but she lost her way back home

Sweet Mommy, ready with her jam and pancakes

waited for her dear Little Red all day

but where did she go?

where did she go?

that night was starless

and the wind was blowing so cold


Sweet mommy got so worried

so she called up Little Red on the phone

and asked the little brat where did she go

"mommy dont worry, please be calm", she answered

"i'm here at the city to hang out.

got a new baby, and by the way, grandma's ok, the wolf is dead

I'll be fine. i promise... I'll be home at ten"

So Sweet mommy stayed awake

waiting for her dear Little Red

But no Little Red came at ten

"that stubborn brat...", sweet mommy said

Again she called up Little Red

but the daughter's phone was unattended

It was already past eleven

"tomorrow, she'll have a good beating..." the mother said


It was past twelve already

when Sweet Mommy's phone rang

It was Little Red with a trembling voice

crying to her out loud

"Mommy, mommy...i'm so scared...please pray!

My baby's drunk and our car lost its brake

Mommy, i'm so sorry for what i've done and said

Mommy, mommy...I Love you...Oh shit!!!"..then the phone was dead



That night was starless

The wind was so cold

Where's Little Red now?



Nobody knows.


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Malala Yousafzai

Malala Yousafzai,
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.


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don't be afraid

DON’T BE AFRAID
I live to please you, 
I live to see the best in you
You and I are the best match
Havens have open mountains
Heavy rains ought to end us
But don’t be afraid

I have created tents to keep you safe
The safest place for you is in my heart
Where only my thoughts and blood play
My blood oozes with oxygen and love
Don’t be afraid this love is forever

I have devoted all my love to you
The clouds have surrendered its beauty for us
This is all for you
So don’t be afraid

This is the love that children will fantasizes 
This is the love that you wished for
Your wishes have come true


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A little girl and her plastic bag

Yesterday while on my way to a supermarket I saw a little girl of perhaps five leaning at
a tree close to the road and watching a blue plastic bag which was drifting in the wind.
She looked very sad with her light blue eyes and her blond hair streamed out behind her.
The bag was lifted by a strong blast and I ran after it, crossing the road. A car came and
stopped, waiting for me to cross the road. A younger man on the other side of the road saw
that I wanted to catch the bag and he was also running after it, but the wind drifted the
bag far over the lawn up hills. After some unsuccessful attempts to get hold of the bag he
finally could grab it. I went to him and he gave me the bag and smiled. I then told him
that a little girl was sad about losing that bag. He wished me a nice weekend and I
returned to that little girl still standing near the tree but this time smiling. She shyly
whispered "Thank you", took the bag and ran to her little playmates waiting for her
anxiously in the background. 


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Lost and Confused

Lost and Confused, with life.
My Pain and Fear is all I have Left.
Standing alone with no place to go.
Just another Piece in this puzzle, I am.
Playing a role, that shall not be remembered.
But a piece that will be forgotten.
One that got lost along the way.
Lost and Confused, with Life.
Love is all but what we have.
Its what drives us everyday.
A motivation so deeply encouraged.
When achieved, all is but of greater value.
Lost and Confused, with Life.
I leave this place with one memory
but of you, and all its glory.


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Red In The Inside, But Black In The Outside

This Poem is about the 'hard to get' attitude ladies portray to interested guys.

Despite my unbelievable swag repugnance is her reaction to my flow despite giving no attention to her she seeks every opportunity to shout "NO!" I seldom want to be friendly but she spits on me like a bitter foe I then don't give a damn about her and she takes it like a heavy blow Out of nothing, she creates a scene but all I can do is shake my head and say Oh! the more I mingle, the worse she gets but I'll not succumb and act so low she flaunts her male acquaintances for me to notice Okay! You have admirers, so? I guessed this is a one time attitude but it has been occurring seven weeks in a row When I register my presence around her her body rhythm increases as if in physio trying so hard to pretend makes her seem like a shy dancing Buffalo Then, I make her seem not existing it's not my fault; you reap what you sow signs of her sufferings begin to show as her body trembles in sight of me from head to toe what a pleasant feeling this brings seeing her drown in her own woe Finally! She concedes defeat and already surrendering showing by the way she's changing like melting snow now playing the nice girl, but my ignore? Makes her want to stone me with a Hoe I'm beginning to compromise emotionally too and I'm scared she will get fed up and go so, I create my chance and kiss her as she shows her joy like a swelling dough revealing her hypocrisy, exhibited right from the beginning. Since this feeling is now reciprocated, she shrugs off the attitude and dumps it below as a new damsel now emitting with an everlasting glow.


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A girl was raped in a bus that night

A girl was raped in a bus that night 
By six men, all drunk, who had lost their minds	
Ambrosia was the elixir of gods, it is said
But godlike men in this age aren’t born or made
Alcohol wrecks judgment, makes beasts out of men 
Deeds under its influence have put us men to shame
Shops abound in our nation where alcohol is sold
The government till overflows when the weather turns cold
A corrupt force is tasked to uphold the country’s law
Incidents occurring on a daily basis expose this basic flaw
Fear of law is no deterrent for miscreants and crooks
The police prefer to look away; with them, they are in cahoots  
But a girl still battles death today aided by a ventilator
Skewered with an iron rod that night, unending was her horror
Demonstrations against this shame were met with brutal force
Citizens showing solidarity were bludgeoned without remorse
The hand that wields the baton to protect civil society
Is now the hand that throttles free voice and liberty
Bad governance, we know is the bane of any nation
Bad policing and lawlessness is responsible for any country’s degeneration
Instead of upholding law and maintaining order
Law enforcers are subdued by their political masters
Whose lack of will to rein in the force given selfish political aspirations 
Stems from a sense of indebtedness for furthering their ambitions 
Burning state fuel at night they stalk and chase prey
Fleecing shady truckers and wheeler-dealers who operate in markets grey
This extortion by night on city road and state highway
Robs the state of much needed revenue and is an add-on to their pay
Similar incidents happen each day of the year and night
In night’s anonymous darkness or blatantly by daylight
With the force preoccupied in matters so vital
Who will protect our girls and control the crime spiral
The government of the day is callous to people’s concerns
Callous to  a daughter’s fate on whom men on a bus took turns


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De Andy Lee

De Andy Lee (part one)

Talks about the little Lady Lee and me,
It all started at the first flight
Our adventure had an origin---
From Off-ego was where we met
So dazzling was her beauty that
Caught my eyes at first sight
And unresisting, my passion wooed along 
Believe me, my eyes contended and my heart clamored
Though my lips stuttered
Deep down inside me was stamina within
Whispering “You can do it, yes, you can”

As I opened my eyes, unknowingly, I’d reached for Lee’s hands
“Hi pretty damsel… as anyone ever told… you…‘re charming”
Perhaps this was a poor pick up line
But she smiled anyway and then freed herself away 
Like a butterfly hovered from my hands.

Not so long, Terry, a neighbor from Long-town
Knocked at my door, walked himself in as I consented
And handed me a postal, “thank you Terry”, I said
While I thought through who might mail me this 
Piece on my palm which I was about to cut exposed
Alas a nightmare-like knocks from the dark 
I (already) left my door ajar
 “You help yourself in please” I utter’d as expected
“Good day sir, I’m Dandy. There is a lady waiting for you outside
She said are name is Lee De Lee”
Agape! “It must have been that lady from Off-ego,
Yes she’d seized my throat already. I think, my previous 
Chat with her there was not bad after all”
Walked myself out with one of my finest attires
Dandy took me to that spot she picked him for me and left
Me, only me wandering and wallowing nervously in the chilly clouds

“Hail Mary, hope I guess right… and where is little Lee De Lee?”
I soliloquized… and as Heaven helped me, 
She appeared and approached
“My apology for keeping you waiting Mr Handsome,
May be you did wow me like you did other ladies or not
But my question is this… Will you love me like
You never have loved any other lady in this city?”
 Though puzzled me but “I must top this chat” I assured
“Not only love will I give, but all for our short courtship
And the thereafter long and everlasting wedlock”
 I could see from her face, expressions said to say
‘Another clever words from your sweet mouth’ 
But lo she opted for most sensitive part of me,
Which could be very vulnerable sometimes
“What did you say that your sweet name is… Handsome?”
There I unveiled my name, which is Agape-
“A-G-A-P-E, yes, pronounced Aa-gaa-pey from On-town” I said….

A.O
16/2/2014


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Female Companion

                                                     She is so typical
                                                           So critical
                                                   For most part difficult

                                   I never really could grasp her in such way
                                       She just wants me to some how stay
                               She comes to my man cave and makes me obey

                                          Shy she was and now I am scared
                                              In such way I almost cared
                              She thinks she can do everything for me I swear

                         She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
     Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
                She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening

                So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
                                When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
            Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy


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Mom's Malaise, part two

A couple of years later, at age 19, this farm girl married and, true to her Catholic
upbringing, began having children. She had four live births and four miscarriages over the course of less than seven years, long before the idea of “post-partum” depression was even a gleam of understanding in anyone’s mind.  After the birth of her fourth child, a girl who would grow up to study environmental sciences and eventually draw the correlation between that first atomic explosion and her mother’s first episode of mental, emotional and physical distress, that infant had to be taken by her aunt and uncle to care for lest she perish from failure to thrive because by this time, mom was so deeply depressed, she was unable to care for her newborn.  

In those days there was no such thing as mental health care, no understanding at all of how to nourish the brain or detox the body from the effects of poisons and radiation…for indeed these advances are only recently gaining traction and still only in the realm of “alternative health care”.  With no understanding of her condition, or of what would even constitute appropriate care, her state of mind and body continued to deteriorate. After more than one suicidal episode and losing her children to foster care while she entered a treatment and rehabilitation facility, she was eventually diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic and manic-depressive, giving her husband sufficient justification to divorce her and blame her parents for not telling him that she was mentally deficient before he married her. Even the Catholic Church agreed and granted an annulment of the marriage that produced his four live children and four miscarriages while he served in the Air Force and left her to care for his children while he was away for years at a time overseas on unaccompanied assignments. But nevertheless, the marriage was officially annulled so that he could marry again sanctioned by the Church and his Catholic bride could continue to take unholy communion in mass.


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Mom's Malaise, part one

The events that took place in a remote area of New Mexico about 230 miles south of Los Alamos during the predawn hours of July 16, 1945 forever changed the world. In the early morning darkness the incredible destructive powers of the atom bomb, code-named "Trinity", were first unleashed, and what had been merely theoretical became reality. Said General Groves, head of the Manhattan project, "We were reaching into the unknown and we did not know what might come of it".  Some feared the consequences of radio-active fallout on civilian populations surrounding the test site. Observers were sent to surrounding towns to monitor the results of the blast and medical teams were kept on alert. But the hope and the focus was on the feeling that we now had the means to ensure a speedy conclusion to the war and save thousands of American lives.

A bit over 400 miles north, north east of the blast on that early morning in July, in a
small Panhandle farm, a girl of 17 rose, as was her daily custom, to milk the cows by
hand, she being the youngest child and only girl of second-generation Polish immigrants who made their living by raising maize and wheat, cows and chickens and selling their milk and eggs in the small town nearby. But less than a month after the July 16th test of the atomic bomb, this otherwise seemingly healthy girl fell into such a malaise that she could not even get out of bed much less carry on with her assigned chores on the farm. She was brought to a hospital in Amarillo and eventually discharged with no diagnosis other than she must have had a nervous breakdown due to some kind of female hysteria. She was sent away to a convent to recuperate but no one, least of all her parents, ever really knew what could have caused her sudden “nervous breakdown” that took place downwind and less than a day’s drive from that first historic explosion of the atomic bomb.


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The Tea Party

A game of musical chairs has just begun in earnest. A pot and kettle band arrives 
through the dining rooms’ French doors following the Valentine Queen. A putrid pink 
flamingo with a croquet ball stuck in its beak settles it’s derrière onto a fine caramel 
leather seat. His humor is short lived. A snort echoes from each of the six bullhorns 
forming his head. “Got him that time, you really did, Matilda!” laughed Lucky, the 
horn-backed chair. A single, rose-pink, button pops off Matilda’s back and lands in 
the hatless brigands’ teapot, just as he is placing a silver tea ball inside. “Ou a le 
petite fille?” Matilda groans. Around the far end of the table chasing a set of 
disembodied eyes with a cat tail, a girl child runs screeching. “She looks familiar, 
don’t she?” Windy whistles beneath the lacy tablecloth, tickling Mattie’s fancy. “Her 
name ain’t Louise,” as with a plop, a brigand crushes Laddie’s rushes. The windsor 
replies. “Geeeeeeeeez Louise!” the ladder-back mutters, between its back straps. A 
top hat flies through the air and landed on the top knob of the lanky ladder backed 
chair. The child righted herself, wiping her nose on the errant apron string. She lisps 
through the spider web pattern of her seat. “Awww now what a shame,” Mary 
whispers to Tex. The loose tails of her apron caught beneath Mary’s rocker and the 
child tumbled face forward into a full cup of Assam tea.  A girl child resplendent in 
golden locks and white pinafore tore into the room planting herself on the caned 
ladies rocker Mary. “Mon Dieu” She moans. “Ya’ll see that nasty monster splatter 
chocolate icing on my skirt?” A knob kneed, potbellied prig, holding a cupcake, 
shoves his way onto Matilda, the little ladies slipper chair. Tex the horned back chair 
at the tables girdle chortles. “Do you know who’s been invited to this soiree?” The 
rabbit topples over backward, his watch bashing his delicate pink nose. Windy 
sneezes.“Aahhh chhhooo!” Tufts of fanny fur tickled between his spokes. 
“Good golly Miss Molly,” shrieks Windy the windsor chair at the far end of the table,
 as a wild-eyed, white rabbit with a gold watch plunked into his well-worn seat.

*Refer to "The Chairs Have it"
This poem can be read from the backwards too ;)


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Burning Desires

Broken in Pieces, we fall.
A burning desire for love,
that will never be found.
A Cause not worth fighting for,
Looking for what I have left of me.
Just to find something left to see,
that's worth of me.
Broken in Pieces, you fall.
A Burning love I no longer desire,
that will be soon found.
A Cause worth fighting for,
Looking for a way not to be alone.
Just to find something I loved,
that I still desire.


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The unkown

There are no promises, no real guarantees
You just have to go with it and hope for the best
It’s probably one of the scariest feelings
You want to not think about it and just enjoy it for what it is and live in the moment
Then there’s that little voice in your head saying “why bother?”
“You’re going to be left crushed and disappointed just like all the other time?”
You keep trying to push it aside but your heart and mind start to feel weary
While I consider myself to be the hopeless romantic who longs for that one who completes the puzzle piece, id don’t want to fall so hard again to end up putting the shattered pieces of my soul back together once more
I want to be able to jump and fly
Not fall and cry
It’s much easier said than done, as are many things
There are no promises, no real guarantees
But every once in a good while you got to jump into the unknown


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Baby Fawn

Im scared
Im absolutely terrified
My knees shake 
Like a baby fawn learning to take its first steps
I want to leap into this wondrous field of possibility
I just don’t want to be dropped like a hot potato 
Like so many other times before
I want to believe and have an abundance of hope
But how can I when I’ve been left with a broken heart
Picking up all the jagged pieces, one by one
How can I believe that this time will be any different?
How do I dare risk it all again
Knowing that im putting it all out there once more


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L O M L Always

The thought of her smiling gave me faith
From when we were little we bathe
My mother and her mother is best friends
They both took care of us and gifts they send
We pulled each others hair
And she was always quick to dare
When I smiled at her she knew it was no good
She learned to pull me up and she understood
I just wanted her attention and that she gave
She knew it in her heart love was my slave
From when we were a child with full of energy I had my way
She was the one who was my guide and she did not push me away
When I saw her cry one day and her eyes was so sad
I gave her a flower and I smiled at her and made her glad
When some one special leaves her heart
I sat by her and never wanted to depart
She is the love of my life always
She is the one who gave me my hope through out my days
So I gave her my heart and love from within
And I did not make it thin
I stood by her side since I was a child
I gave her my support when we were wild
She knew who I was and I let her go the distance
I did not hate her or give her resistance
My mother and her mother are great friends and their virtue will never end
Because of their love they both trusted us to live our ways to transcend
So my childhood friend was my best friend, and now my wife
She new it from the start that we part of each others life


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The Trilogy Ends

The brutalized girl breathed her last in faraway Singapore
She met her fate returning home, a couple of weeks ago
To shift the focus of the masses on an issue so emotive
And moved to a hospital in a distant land with a purely political motive
Reputed for organ transplants in which their hospital specialized 
What good did it do to a grievously hurt girl whose condition had not stabilized
The six hour flight to the distant shore was surely a misadventure
The government was uneasy with restive crowds near their hallowed seat of power

The government paid lip service to the girl who is no more
Making promises to a nation, both aggrieved and sore
But in the interim, another girl in a neighbouring state
Ended her life, harassed and denied for weeks from recording her rape
The administration’s handling of such incidents
Are not far and few and have many precedents
A woman parliamentarian and doctor to boot
Said something very strange in a television interview
Referred to a victim from the past
And on her character, aspersions she cast
Pronouncing to media that it was not rape at all
But a call-girl’s transaction gone wrong; what gall!
Another MP, this time the President’s son
Sought to have fun with his knowledge of the English lexicon
And portrayed the women demonstrators of civil society as ‘painted & dented’
The backlash was so vicious, on national television he recanted  
With red lights marking them as their sirens wail through the streets
Breaking traffic rules and followed by a bureaucratic fleet 
Politicians think that from their ivory towers they have seen it all
As elected office bearers they never cease to appall
In times of crisis you can sense the disconnect 
But democracy is about people’s choices, who do we elect?

And to men, I must ask why bestiality has become our way
Together we can surely change the world for a better day
Please resist if opportunity demands when you see a girl harassed
Or at the least seek help fast, you have to save the lass! 


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Friday night in the Ghetto



It's Friday night 
In the Ghetto
Screams 
From the dark ring out
A little girl crying
Daddy don’t hit mama
Sit down and shut up
Yelling
Banging 
On the walls
As neighbors threaten
To call the cops

Drugs in the hallways
Drugs on the streets
Who will that pretty girl meet
To make the money 
To feed the habit or pay
The bills or just to eat.

And still around the corner
Near the shops
The people stand 
And talk about the promise land
Its Friday night in the ghetto and the
Promise land is
The pawn shop
Fried chicken
Peanut butter and jelly.

The music from the barber shop
Makes a fellow stop
And touch fists
With a friend 
From around the way
Hey remember the day
Then out of the night air
Shots ring out

That little girl
Sitting on the floor
Playing with her dolls
Ken and Barbie
Dreaming of a time 
When she will meet her
Ken and maybe
Falls on her face
This is the place
The ghetto
And its Friday

Poem by SGSteverson
From the book"Four Pieces of a Silver Coin"
Posted 09/14/2011


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Rare Amazing One

 

 

Remember that girl wearing old pink attire?

She dances so well like an electrifying wire.

She has no height! Yes we know!

That cute girl with messy hair goes always with the flow!

 

She moves like a stylist funky hot guy.

That girl wearing cap can’t be in old want style.

She’s a blabber! Yes we know!

She talks like rapper who always keeps on the go!

 

She’s shaking things off unexpectedly,

Crowd is whining like a crying child vigorously,

She’s a performer! Yes we know!

That girl always makes sure that she has her one grand show.

 

She’s a vixen, a rare amazing one!

She’s always making sense and keeps things on her run.

She’s viciously awesome! Yes we know!

Without her is quite less boredom kind of dance show.


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The Girl Who Flew Away

The grass, a glossy emerald green
beneath an azure sky;
the breeze was blowing to and fro,
a noontime in July.

The birds were singing melodies
of flying in the wind;
they didn't want to go alone,
so they sought out a friend.

A little girl with flowing hair
was dancing 'round the tree;
her dress reflected rays of light
that shone among the leaves.

She clapped her hands; she clapped them twice;
she clapped her hands three times;
she then began to spin around
and jump just like the chimes.

And then two birds atop the tree
began to plummet down;
they swirled together as they traveled
toward the emerald ground.

The little girl had stopped her spin,
her arms were at her side,
until she stretched them out to let
the birds give up their glide.

They landed on her little hands,
their wings extended still;
the girl began to run to find
a place atop the hill.

As she ran up to the top,
a bird began to follow;
then all the birds soon did the same
and left their wooden hollow.

The girl, still running, birds in hand,
finally found her stop;
she slowed her feet and caught her breath
while on the mountain top.

The birds, still flying, followed suit
and tried to slow the flight,
but when they got to where she stopped,
they couldn't stop their plight.

So 'round and 'round and 'round they flew
around the little girl;
she felt a breeze begin to blow,
then she began to twirl.

She twirled and twirled and twirled until
her feet were off the ground;
she felt herself move toward the sky,
and then she looked around.

She saw the tree beneath her feet,
The oak, so far away;
she was flying with the birds,
what driving disarray!

Summer's eve is not yet here;
The time is now or none;
So fly as high as you can see,
Or else your summer's done.