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Long America Poems | Long America Poetry

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Long Poems
Long poem by Zachary Alvstad | Details |

Xenophobia pt 1


Heed the warning
This isn't for the faint of heart
Verbalizing my deepest yearnings 
They're bound to be a bit tart...

Because where I'm from is called the Bible Belt
Where folks in queues to catch the garter belt
Where peoples dreams take constant pelts
And kids psyches be full of welts
From parents saying, "the sky's the limit!"
Then they grow up and only hear about limits...

Get real kid, this is how it's always been
You hear that? That's the worlds smallest violin
I swear sometimes I can feel the world spin
Like, if we don't change now... When?
Used to be paralyzed by the illusion of sin
Poked my comfort zone with a safety pin
Don't let 'em steal your heart like the man of tin
I made it out by the hair of my chin

Growing up, my favorite question was "Why?"
23 years later I can't quit asking "Why?"
Why? Why? Why? Whyyyyy?
Sigh... I just can't turn a blind eye
Imitation is suicide, rather die than comply
Curiosity'll make my brain pop, 1,000 p.s.i.
9,000 miles from home lookin' at the same blue sky,
Thinkin', It's crazy how one decision can change your life

Day to day nothing seems to change
Then looking back nothing seems the same
Where did all the time go?
You really do reap what you sew... 

Maybe I bite off more than I can chew
I'm just trying to broaden my view
I'm just trying to learn something new
In hope of reaching heights visited by few
Yeah, I definitely bite off more than I can chew
But someday I'll reach heights visited by few
So I'll keep musin' 'til I become the Muse 

Let me share some thoughts from abroad
I'm currently chillin' in Asia on Cambodian sod
The way the world's been portrayed is 100% facade
The American Dream... Aka the American Fruad
Blindfold your brain, here comes the firing squad

Day by day, I feel my prejudices melt
I can't put a finger on some things I've felt 
But I'll always accept the cards I've been dealt
Cause I'm the dealer...

Hit me.

Only brought one bag, traveling light
Do I own things or do they own me?
Less is more, it's black & white 
That's old wisdom, Linear B
Who's to say what's wrong or right?
I guess in time we'll see...

Don't know if I'm lookin' for somethin'
Or if I'm runnin' from somethin'
Both, Either way the answer's within
I can't lie I miss home now & then
But Ima keep runnin' until who knows when

Been gone nearly 6 months, quite awhile
What's home? I haven't found it yet
Slidin' thru these countries like socks on the tile
Learning so many lessons from people I've met
Like, Did I really choose my lifestyle?
Or, was it chosen from a finite set? 
Single file, line's longer than the Nile
The world's a lot different than on the TV set...

Don't go there, someone might kidnap you
Or kill you, mindset courtesy of the news
Come take a walk in someone else's shoes
And see how the U.S. of A is viewed
I think you might be amused...
The bad guys... Who's who?
Your nationality, did you choose?
Your religion, did you choose?

We all have the same inherent desires 
To be loved, understood and cared for
To have food to eat and some attire 
a roof over our head, that's all that's at the core

Imagine one lives the exact same life as me 
But he was raised without Christianity
He's damned for eternity?
because of our incompetency
to realize & manifest universal equality...?

Other advocates believe their story's infallibly true
Same way you talk about yours 'til your cheeks turn blue
Older generations think we need to get a clue
The irony is, We inherited this world from you
You told us most of what we thought we knew
So don't be mad when we try to start anew
And we challenge everything you said was taboo
Because history seems like never ending déjà vu
Sit back, relax, and forget what you're used to
Because it's our turn to lead the coup
Honing my foresight on when my child will be two
I wanna be someone he'll be able to look up to
I wanna leave a world where he won't just make do
To fit in he won't need a pair of $100 shoes
And instead of war we'll use our words & peruse
You going to wake up or hit snooze?
What's your excuse?
Honestly, what do we have to lose?

Maybe I bite off more than I can chew
I'm just trying to broaden my view
I'm just trying to learn something new
In hope of reaching heights visited by few
Yeah, I definitely bite off more than I can chew
But someday I'll reach heights visited by few
So I'll keep musin' until I become the Muse

Times are changing Mom & Dad
Global consciousness shift, this isn't just a fad
Growing up our world was much different than yours
Surf the Internet and check anythings source
We won't sit back and let things take their course
It's simple, you want me to code it in Morse? 

. . . _ _ _ . . . 

Boy, why's your writing gotta be so coarse?
Uhh... Why do half of marriages end in divorce?
It shouldn't be a chore
Neither side thinks their the source
Did you forget about all those scriptures you endorsed?
All those Sunday morning worships you enforced?

What if time was our currency?
and we fostered self-ésteem?
What if it was as easy to be nice
As it is to be mean?
What if the forest was church?
And the universe was our God?
What if our prayers were meditation?
And no one told you who to laud... 

Maybe we aren't content with kneeling to pray
Maybe we want to put our actions into play
Instead of asking "someone" to allay our dismay
Man, These days a lotta things seem like display
Ostentatious piety, I see thru that like an x-ray
Look, I'm just sayin' what y'all are scared to say
Let's stop all the bleeding... Vitamin K
And show love like it's always Valentine's Day...

Copyright © Zachary Alvstad

Long poem by Mike Liquori | Details |

Lincolns Lesson learned

                                  Hard driven by the embarrassment,
                                   His temper Flared bright in youth,
                         Grinded to sharpness by the glittering coin held tight,
                                     Handed to his Dad in fear,
                             Slavery is Poverty and vise versa to this day;
                                 The first lessons of the his earlier days,
                                  So Young Lincoln went upon his way, 
                     He flew the coup instead of hitting another nail into timber,
               Knowing that it was his coffin the spike driven into it would be sealing,
                             No more Kentucky hay to bail or seed to lay… 
                               No more indentured servitude for Lincoln,
                                         He swore to God that day,  
                                A Frontier Politician he set a due course,
                                 With vulgar temper and clerical repose,
                                  Dotted with Whiskey, furry and aloof,
                           Young Lincoln the Politic used his words to shred,
                             His rival list long, and he knew that they dread,
                            As he dispensed his paid for frontier limited view,
                        Castigating, name calling and even assailing mere men,
                                     His words were swords to slice,
                                      Fire breathed to incinerate,
                      Not the eloquence of a man upon hollowed temples walls,
                                      Young Lincoln set a course,
                                         That would so create,
                      A life’s lesson learned, but not from sharp worded debate,
                            He insulted the integrity of an immovable man,
                               James Shield a political rival of that date,
                                 Someone who needs to learn to heel,
                                     To the Lincolns law of the land, 
                           So a duel was proposed and Lincoln so dared,
                                     To accept the rival challenge,
                                      but only if he could prevail,
                                              Rules were set, 
                                           A duel to the death,
                             Long Sword chosen for his long tall reach, 
                                         His rival still undeterred,
                                 removed the sword from the sheath,
                               So Lincoln threw down a long wood log,
                    And said to Shield your honor will not allow you to retreat,
                                       What Lincoln did not know,
               Was Mr. Shield’s resolve to this matter and would never ever retreat, 
                                       No matter the circumstance,
                                        He will stand for his honor,
                                    In front of his own blood splatter,
                                      None of that seemed to matter, 
                                         The Duel set to begin,
                                         The middle man arrives,
                                         The Duel called off…

                          When Lincoln looked into Shield’s burning eyes,
                                         Lincoln sees a truth,
                                   Retreats into a five year slumber, 
                               Nursing his ego and calming all matters, 
                                Learning from errors and books galore,
                                  his embarrassed lack of education, 
                                      set a changed in his course,  
                         Learning the Lessons of Shield’s brave stand,
                                      Lincoln never left that day,
                                        And it never went away, 
                               Ignited an understanding of integrity, 
                                              and glory,
                                    Of the righteous path to lay,  
                               But if you think he was born that way, 
                           It was a young Lincoln that had to walk away,
                                   He returned more than a man,
                                           A driven ideology,
                                       Knowing the path ahead, 
                           The future is not through a house divided,
                                          Falling upon itself, 
                                   But only together we can stand,
                                      One nation that is undivided.


Copyright © Mike Liquori

Long poem by Robert Nehls | Details |


He was born in backwoods Missouri.
1840 the year he arrived.
Conflict, sickness and hard times prevailed.
Through it all he grew strong and survived.
Skills to live were a gift from his father.
Faith in God from his mother each day.
Never taking his freedom for granted.
Understanding the price one must pay.

He quietly moved into manhood. 
With his siblings he stood sure and tall.
Proud to be part of his family.
Then, the young man heard destiny's call.
Not sure of the path to be taken,
But, he knew he must find his own way.
Calling on God's Divine guidance,
And His strength, love and joy for each day.

Well, for five years he worked in the mill, 
Preparing for what life will bring.
A wagon to build, horses to buy.
Then Sarah walked in and made his heart sing.
Sometimes, one can feel like a shadow;
Incomplete in an unfulfilled dream.
That's how it was for Sarah and Paul,
Till they flowed into one life stream.

Sarah's family were all back in Boston.
She left them to find, her own destiny.
Consumed by the pioneer spirit.
How she longed for the land of the free.
She made it as far as Missouri,
With a plan to move on further west.
Then Paul walked into her life and she knew,
That he'd become part of her quest.

She shared in his hope for the future.
More than willing to stand by her man.
To homestead some land out in Kansas,
Start a farm, raise a family, the plan.
An American flag and the bible;
Wedding gifts from Paul's mother, she cried,
"May God keep you safe in your travels."
His father looked on, full of pride.

They hitched up the team to the wagon,
Bid farewell to their family and friends.
Headed out, into unknown adventure,
Where America's dream never ends.
There were challenges met on the journey,
With a spirit that will not concede.
Swarming locust, dust storms, rivers to cross,
But, they knew where their victories lead.

They traveled through Kansas with hope in their hearts,
For a place where a family could thrive.
Where crops could be grown, a church and a school,
And a town that was fairly close by.  
They found peace in a county called Morris.
Felt like home with some trees and a stream.
Quarter section of land with some promise.
Here they'd build their American dream.

Sarah tilled up some ground for the garden.
Paul began to envision their home;
A cabin with walls strong and sturdy;
A pole with the flag his mother had sewn.
Neighbors came by to lend them a hand.
Soon the cabin was built safe and warm.
Sarah with child, Paul worked on the barn.
And they were secure from the storm.

Well, the days went by, as they surely do.
Then the weeks, and the months, and the years.
Three little children now ran through,
All their struggles, and laughter, and tears.
Paul raised up the flag in the morning.
And they read from the bible each day.
Grateful for all God had given them.
Before meals they held hands and they'd pray.

There was Mary and Matthew and Martha,
Their dog Bo with big ears and brown nose.
Sarah tended the garden and children,
Cooked the meals and made most of their clothes.
Each child was given chores to be done,
Learning honesty, friendship and pride.
Their Pa, a pillar of honor and strength.
And love, the wagon they all would ride.

Paul learned to farm, he planted the wheat,
And hoped for a high yield each year.
But nature can rip through the best laid plans,
Searching for options, it soon became clear.
The forge and the anvil sat waiting,
For the skill that Paul learned as a boy.
He had to provide for his children and wife.
And his knife making brought him such joy.

Between mending fences and planting,
Hunting and harvesting wheat that prevailed;
He worked in the shop with tools that he loved,
Making knives that his customers hailed!
"Nothing less than a fine work of art,"
"An extension of one's very hand."
But Paul ever humble, thanked God for his skill,
And kept working the steel and the land.

Neighbors helped neighbors in times of need.
Being friends reached beyond a passing hello.
They shared in the blessings God gave them,
Through fire and hail and hard driven snow.
While the children grew up with a purpose, 
And a love for this land of the free.
Knowing God is the source of their freedom.
We the People are given the key.

Paul and Sarah provided their family,
With shelter and clothing and food.
Safe from harm and the fury of nature.
Giving love that would always include,
Paul raising the flag in the morning.
Holding hands and a prayer for each meal.
Sarah reading them all bible verses.
Sunday worship to nourish and heal.

They had found their American Dream.
In the land and the friends they had made,
And the freedom to raise up a family.
To choose their own way, and the price to be paid.
From a distance it looks like survival,
But with God, it's a blessing indeed.
Life, Liberty, the quest for happiness.
Planting love as the ultimate seed.  

Copyright © Robert Nehls

Long poem by Robert Ronnow | Details |

Cameron Diaz

Herpetologist meets actress (Cameron Diaz).
If he's funny he's me.
South America or Africa (on location).
In a diamond mind.
The protagonists (lovers), the diamonds, the miners and the minders.
By minders I (he) mean (means) watchers, organizers, supervisors.
As all art must: choose a focus.
The personal is political said Cameron on the night bus to Quebec.
I had never met a girl so willing to make love in public.
Open to it.

To what extent is violence necessary? And
is that the essential question or
should violence be accepted as man's state, fate
a more essential question existing beyond or below
peace or war. Perhaps
the religious and (for the irreligious) sacred injunction
against egregious violence exists
to still ourselves
to open ourselves
to the deeper question. That Cameron Diaz is funny and beautiful
is hopeful. And the telescope and microscope have extended
the eye's appreciation. Under the microscope
Cameron becomes a collection of foreign, alien, uncompassionate,
      selfish, self-organizing
organisms. Frightening, inexorable, fascinating
to the scientist in you!

To the telescope
vanishingly small, infinitesimal as the farthest sun
only smaller
smaller by magnitudes of magnitudes of ten
and incinerated in a nanosecond. Gone
from the movie (photographs the contents of which move
for the naked eye).
I cannot help what I do or hope.

Anyway, it's a love story
or science project, socio-political documentary. An essay.
An essay about how it is actually impossible to say what you mean
but it is possible with a lifetime of meditation and study to shut up
and know what you meant.

Now I'm deaf.
I can see Cameron Diaz but not hear her.
The guy, the herpetologist, at first colorless turns out to be
colorful as a bird or snake!
He knows a lot about snakes, and birds! Not only how they mate
but what they eat
(amateur botanist)
where they rest
what they do with their pain. Do they get depressed?
Can they have guests?
How do they judiciously employ violence to organize and defend
the nest.

The international collective remains insufficiently organized
resulting in violence and threats of violence that interrupt
commerce, procreation (love) and the pursuit of happiness (Cameron
at least for certain populations, sometimes.
Otherwise, most men, most times, live in peace excepting
flood or fire God or man may
choose to impose.
I lay in my bed and listen naked.
Have a good day (Diaz).
The goddess does not exist, except as bone.

Around this time (July)
the queen yellow jacket (redcoat) searches
blind and deaf
for a ledge or cavity to build a city of her descendants
safe, that they can defend.
Most cities
prosper, undisturbed
and sleeping peacefully, overwinter. We, however,
remain active, Cameron Diaz makes winter movies or
love stories in South America, and I
delight to imagine her herpetologist. Or one who
discovers the sun
around which a habitable, understandable, compatible
orb orbs. Or
maybe the movie's about the revolution, soldiers dying defending
this dictator or that dreamer
and the movie completely failing, not even trying, to explain how
the sons and daughters of the dying soldiers (miners) feel
fishing alone, hunting for wisdom, thereafter.
Sure, these men chose violence, not Cameron Diaz, and were not
farmers, botanists or herpetologists
their tools could have been and should have been the telescope or
but are there enough microscopes and telescopes to go around
and did we not (taxpayers, movie makers) encourage them to
defend Cameron Diaz?

Man's world is insufficiently organized to preclude violence
in allocating resources (Cameron Diaz).
When we invade Iraq
to defend our allies and interests
with rockets and rocket throwers, Rockettes and Cameron Diaz
each man (each Diaz) must make his
own individual choice
whether this war
is worth fighting for or the next or the worst.
Go to jail, go directly to waterboard, at the hands of
your local police, chamber of commerce.
Learn how to walk the desert and the universe.
The names of rocks and planets,
that being the only answer to the hyperorganization that is a cancer on
      our insufficient organization.

I was reading Foreign Affairs
The Case Against the West by Kishore Mabubami (Cameron Diaz).
How can I relinquish my privileged position
sit still, lie naked
until what constitutes consent of the governed and non-violent change,
      Cameron Diaz,
to her herpetologist
is known.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow

Long poem by Xander Martin | Details |

The Lights ft Edgar Allan Poe


See the phone towers with the lights- 
Glowing lights! 
What a world of mischief and sorrow their pattern foretells! 
How they twinkle, twinkle, twinkle
In the icy air of night! 
While the clouds that are gray
And so boring, seem to snicker 
As they watch over the street known as Gay; 
Keeping time, time, time, 
In a sort of Philadelphian rhyme, 
To the long-word-I-don't-know-what-it-means that so visually delights 
From the lights, lights, lights, lights, 
Lights, lights, lights- 
From the flickering and the twinkling of the lights. 


Feel the ominous Morse Code message of the lights, 
Incandescent lights! 
What a world of tightly packed buildings and traffic their harmony foretells! 
Through the balmy air of midnight 
How they ring out their delight! 
From the creepy redden lights, 
And an insight, 
What a lot of lost sleep I once owed
To the white light reflected onto a certain window making it look 
Like the moon! 
Oh, from out the dormhouse cells, 
What a gush of imprisoned restless students wanting the night to end voluminously wells! 
How it swells! 
How it dwells 
On the Future! Now we face 
The crushing reality that is this place 
To the shining and the lining
Of the lights, lights, lights, 
Of the lights, lights, lights, lights, 
Lights, lights, lights- 
To the electrifying coolness of the lights! 


See the now visible sources of the lights- 
Stacked lights! 
What a tale of terror, now, their position tells! 
In the startled ear of night 
How they scream out their affright! 
Too much horrified to speak, 
They can only shriek, shriek, 
Out of tune, 
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the city, 
In a fit of desperation from a phone line seeking pity, 
Climbing higher, higher, higher, 
With a desperate desire, 
And a resolute endeavor, 
Now- now to sit or never, 
By the side of the pale-faced moon. 
Oh, the lights, lights, lights! 
What a tale their terror tells 
Of Urban Society! 
How they flash, and spark, and repeat! 
What an inconvenience they defeat 
Riding the electrical current of the atmosphere with glee! 
Yet the eye it fully knows, 
By the pondering, 
And the wandering, 
How the danger ebbs and flows: 
Yet the eye distinctly tells, 
In each tower's tallness, 
And my smallness, 
How the danger sinks and swells, 
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the lights- 
Of the lights- 
Of the lights, lights, lights, lights, 
Lights, lights, lights- 
In the unique ability and memorability of the lights! 


See the final flash of the lights- 
Evil Lights! 
What a world of greed and lust their monotony compels! 
In the silence of the night, 
How we shiver with affright 
At the melancholy coldness of the air conditioning! 
For every sound that floats 
From the rust within our throats 
Is a groan. 
And the people- ah, the people- 
They that dwell up in the buildings, 
All Alone 
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, 
In that muffled monotone, 
Feel a glory in so rolling 
On the human heart a stone- 
They are neither man nor woman- 
They are neither brute nor human- 
They are slaves to the system: 
And their Internet it is who rules; 
And he pulls, pulls, pulls, 
A meme right out of his arse! 
And his jolly news websites discuss human rights
With the guidance of the lights! 
And he dances, and he yells; 
Fighting crime, crime, crime, 
In a sort of cheesy rhyme, 
To the mysterious melody of the lights- 
Of the lights: 
Keeping geeks, geeks, geeks, 
In a stupor which the Internet seeks, 
To the throbbing of the lights- 
Of the lights, lights, lights- 
To the sobbing of the lights; 
Taking in, in, in,
All the sights, sights, sights
Of this pathetic tourist trap rat-hole called Manayunk, 
To the rolling of the lights- 
Of the lights, lights, lights: 
To the tolling of the lights, 
Of the lights, lights, lights, lights- 
Lights, lights, lights- 
Oh, the mystery and the history of the lights.

Copyright © Xander Martin

Long poem by John Hamilton | Details |

Sept 11,the day the world stood still

It was a day like every other day, sunny and warm they said
New Yorkers smiling and happy, looking for their daily bread
Taxis were darting here and there, planes flying everywhere
Children were going to school, parents laying down the rule.

Plans were made for later that day,
Meet you at 7, no, make it 8. I'll do my best not to be late.
Don't worry baby, I don't mind at all, Just please, remember to call.

Who could have known that waking up that day,
that things would happen in an unusual way.
To change forever, the way we think and feel
The events we saw, yes, they were real.

No way to deny it, it was on the news,
With our own two eyes, there were hundreds of views.
over and over we watched, hard to believe,
what we just witnessed, what did it all mean?

What an unusual sight, that plane in flight,
just before the ninth hour, when it hit the tower,
How terrible we thought, answers we all sought
Like, why did that happen, how could it be?

That a plane hits a skyscraper, in plain sight,
In broad daylight, not the dark of night.
Was it pilot error? How could that be?
The tower was right there, for him and all to see!

That moment was special, that moment in time,
when the whole world was watching, yes, stopped on a dime.
We saw the flames burning, our hearts they burned too,
would there be any survivors?... Who knew?

Calls were made, to say I love you,
Life's been good until now, it's been good loving you.
Say goodbye to the kids for me, tell them be strong,
Tell them daddy loves them...goodbye, so long.

We saw a man falling, from way up above,
Who was that man? Did he not feel loved?
or was he just desperate, to escape the heat?
We all watched in horror, as he fell to the street.

So many were dying, it was too hard to bear,
Many just couldn't get down the stairs.
Some just stayed put, thinking help will come,
What they didn't know was, the damage was done.

The bravest ones, I saw that day, firefighters, on the way,
into the fire they would run, climbing higher and higher,
To save others lives...from that raging fire.
They did not know then, it was a tragic mistake,
All they knew was...lives were at stake.

Many escaped from the tower, running for their lives,
we saw them running with terror in their eyes.
So many people were running just like the others,
They were their fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers.

...And then suddenly another plane appeared!
Was it coincidence, orjust something weird?

When it hit the second tower, at that very hour,
it became crystal clear, that it was just as we feared,
It was not a mistake, someone asleep at the wheel,
It was an attack! that one and all, we would feel.

From that day forward, everything would change,
The world was unrecognizable, suddenly so strange.
Innocence was lost, and war came at great cost,
We learned that terror, was more than just a word,
It was what we all saw, felt, and heard.

So now here we are, so many years later,
Is your pain, grief and fear, lesser, or greater?

Only God can help us now, with all of our fears,
It is he, who promises, to wipe away our tears.
And pain, death, and all of our sorrow,
Will all be gone, in what will seem like tomorrow.

Yes, God will surely help us, I know he will.
But, still it's hard to forget, Sept 11

The day the world stood still.

John Derek Hamilton   
December 20,2012 
Final revision October 13,2015

Copyright © John Hamilton

Long poem by Marilyn Jennings | Details |

America the Worlds Hope for Peace and Prosperity Has Become A Culture of Death

America the Worlds Hope for Peace and Prosperity Has Become A Culture of Death

How did this happen?  America, how did you become a culture of death?  You were
founded upon the Word of God and Jesus, the Savior of the World.  The Bible says in Him we live, and move and have our being.  Jesus said, “I have come to give you life and that more abundantly”!  He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life; no one comes to the Father but by Him.  

I realize that many bad moves and changes have taken place to bring about such
a shift of principals, morals and beliefs that have caused the fall of our society.  Many things are attributed to it including, the Church in America moving away from the central theme of the Gospel, the Cross of Jesus Christ.  We have moved away from the Lord, Himself, and we have placed man on the throne of our hearts instead of Christ!  We have taken God out of the classrooms in our schools, and when we removed God, Satan then had the inroad to these young and tender minds and hearts of our children. 

Our country has become so “self centered” that we have been touting the ideology that man is a god unto himself, and this has spread the self-centered lifestyle and has taken hold across our land.  We look out for #1, what is best for you, the most convenient for you, if it feels good, do it.

Wanting to become like “Twiggy” the concentration camp model that caused many women to die trying to get their emaciated bodies to look like her and developing anorexia in the process.  And in the 70’s, if being pregnant was inconvenient for the mother, go get an abortion, who cares, it is “my body”, no madam, it isn’t your body that you are killing, you are killing an innocent human being, instead, you said, it is my figure, my fun, my time, my party  and you become a “god” in your own eyes and you took the life away from your own baby,  and now, we have as a nation, I believe killed well over 100 million babies, I say that many because, the killing keeps taking place but the numbers have not been increasing!  Also, the babies that these babies would have had… no one is counting the whole generation that was slaughtered.

Now we are a nation where our youth is dressing in black clothing participating in the “walking dead”, killing each other at schools and on the street, watching “Zombies”, playing violent electronic games feeding on death continually!

When will this stop???  It won’t without a blood bought, devil stomping, sin killing Holy Ghost revival!  Without Christ in our lives, a personal relationship with our Creator, every soul in this world will either end up in Heaven if they choose to accept what the Lord Jesus Christ has done for mankind through His own blood, or will end up in Hell burning in the Lake of Fire for an eternity!  They will literally breathe fire forever!  Wouldn’t that be enough to convince you to choose life?  Death is not pretty, it is horrible, messy, ugly, and putrid but life in Christ is beautiful and abundant.  It is fulfilling, lovely, pure but, only if you know Jesus personally.  It is really up to us, and I pray that as you read this narrative poem that you will choose life, life in Christ, ask Him today to come into your life and forgive your sins!

Written by:  Marilyn S. Jennings
August 8, 2015

Copyright © Marilyn Jennings

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

John Michael Greeristics

Obamystic Preludes: Things we wish tomorrow for today

Insufficient knowledge for fully comprehensive consciousness
is also more than sufficient ignorance
to cause comprehensive disease.

Knowledge is not optimally resolved
resonantly revolved
accurately measured
in deductive-only information,
rational knowledge is optimally measured with health-trend outcomes.

If competing for attention is too tiring,
wilting you outside and in,
try cooperating for retention of solidarity
through mutually subsidiary engagement,
attendance to co-emergent healthy outcomes.

If we want soldiers of and for good,
then they need mentors
with cooperative gaming strategies
to achieve and sustain
globally self-optimizing healthy wealth.

If we want to avoid nightmares
then we end each day embracing our daytime health/wealth stallion stories,
counting our best cooperative assets
for sustaining life through another night, and generation.

If we want to optimize our wealth of mental health
then we decompose "nondual co-arising confluent memory,"
both binomial-analogical and binary-digital,
toward regenerative multisystemic comprehension.

Too much hated war and violence,
then what do all sides do to sustain their anger?
Too much anger,
disproportionate to resources required to sustain?
Then inclusively discern what we collectively fear about death
as lack of fully comprehensive eternal life
for our polyculture-trending future generations,
and ourselves,
here and now.

Too much disabling and unhealthy paranoia,
depression and suppression,
repression and ignorant impressions
substituting Win-Lose hope of wealth
for Win-Win health
as our shared value for diastatic life?
Then uncover
and discover
and recover
opportunities for cooperating active love
co-arising from the opposite side of the fear/anger spectrum,
refusing to feed your nightmares
by relentlessly watering our interdependently co-arising health.

Transitioning from competitive Win-Lose
global and domestic policies
toward cooperative Win-Win logistics:

1. Begin with anticipated military defense expenses, after checking cash on hand for next year.

2. Add all competitive BusinessAsUsual industry subsidies,
tax credits and deferments,
financial investments.

3. Divide the total within-budget competitive-aggressive Win-Lose military-industrial expenses
by two;
(1) and (2) above.

4. Invest 50% in a new Peace Corp
with Permaculture EcoTherapeutic Win-Win Design and Development
Mentorship Training,
with requisite alternative-technology tools and resources.

5. Invest the other 50% in a new Americorp/VISTA
with the same multisystemic cooperative networking
mentorship model,
a most cooperative polyculture!
placing interns to co-organize local cooperatives,
health/wealth optimization guilds
composting ecological abundance economies.

Insufficient comprehension for fully co-emergent consciousness
is also more than sufficient decay
to cause cosmo-dislogical disease.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck

Long poem by Faith Dye | Details |

My Brother

My brother is and will always be my Memorial Day
Of course I will always respect every warrior that fought let's say
My brother joined the Marines to get away from our mother at seventeen
she was mean, mentally ill, bossy, and out of her mind in between
so serving his country during the Vietnam War felt better to him
leaving all of us behind, going over there with the body count wasn't a whim
we all cried as he went out the door
mom cried the most and I was just floored
because she yelled and screamed at him all of the time
but today looked like she loved him so much and wanted him to stay behind
if he knew this and didn't have to think that she didn't care for him
his journey may have been so much better with more care and begin
to think of her differently like a loving mom
then when he was detecting land mines and hearing bombs
he may have been more comforted by love
looking at the stars up above
wearing peanut butter on his feet 
in the monsoon season
as not give the rats a reason 
to bite his flesh and hurt
they could drive you berserk
and the tunnels pray tell
they were a living hell
they would come out anytime
no reason no rhyme
hand grenades in hand
blow you up on their land
It was always a dangerous situation
you never knew when injury was a completion
you'd blacken your face up and find a tree
and sit real still and listen to everything carefully
because one wrong move could mean your life so
you had to be super aware to all the facts before you could go
to sleep for a matter of minutes perhaps a little longer if your lucky
things sure aren't the same since that plane ride all the way from Kentucky
so they put their helmets on their rifles in case they were shot at
they'd think that was their head and they would miss them flat
out right was the goal only some of them knew
and some of them snuck around to the front of you
to blow off your real head and shatter you
and if anyone say "medic" they'll shatter them too
it's just too destructive being there
you're a trained killer and it just isn't fair
You don't believe in Memorial Day, you say?
Don't stay in the states, we should run you away
too many men gave their lives for you to keep you free
we should throw you in prison lock the door and get rid of the key
this celebrates men like my brother, my cousins, good men that didn't come back
the audacity of you to talk bad about this day, disrespect them, the deck was stacked
not in their favor, believe me, we should've sent guys like you, their bodies hacked
to scare them, I wish I could scare you
no your not even worth it to do
anything to drop down to your kind
just remember when you look behind 
you, proud men gave you freedom believe it or not
you ignorant bastard you must have forgot
your daddy, your grandpa, somebody you know
fought a war for you and us and you show
no respect
to the rest
Happy Memorial Day!
Thanks to all you Women and Men whom keep and kept us safe

Copyright © Faith Dye

Long poem by Gary Fields | Details |

Will A Divided House Stand In any Land

@one must have lived
on both' sides of
justice to be fully

There are so many
There are oh! So
many plans'
But, in this day of
Can it really
Their are those who
live in the shadow
There are those who
are on top!
Many have faith in
the interest of
I say some-times' it
is merely just a
   ----- Now think
about that ----
Do you live in a
state of justice
Or in a state of
Where your strife is
And pales' beyond
Can you go out at
   ? ...night!
With-out subscribing
of your plight
Hence:  the fear of
going out at night
This reflects' the
type of judgement
That which you

A issue shrouded
in black and white
A deadly combination
of the many social
wrongs' or
         Where the
truth comes' to the
As a human body lay
riddled in the heat
and stench
of the night....
If you are stopped
in a store to-day
Do you expect to
make it home?
Are you subjected
to the night?
Where justice is
swift a constant
     - Only...
To end up at the
business end of

To the end of
contrary to
your life.... 

 Only to be pondered
upon as a
creature in that
laboratory of
Where you your-self
have just payed
The supreme price
from a flash of
That threatens' to
end your life...
Where some-one else
in his unique 
......since of
justice amend to
take your life
(Some-call it a snap
decision only... it
such a snap to take
another life) later
to be call a mishap
in the name of
protecting life
I still say' maybe
we are
acting on a little
bad advice
justifiable murder
In the name of our
Needless too say,
Is this the best

Who's constitution
dare I choose?

Your life
filled full of
With a truth slowly
only God knows'
just exactly
What has just
     .... And the
reason why so many
should die....
Who's brand of
justice would you
survive...  In that
vain' instance
Just to stay
 which do you
care.... to defend?

Would it be
attributed to the
feat of justice 
Or will it be just

Or to the
determination of the
life of just another
Young innocent
man..... Or that
breath of justice
From which he did
truly depend...

To abide and to
trust in....

The accomplishment
of man... Awh! Yes,

The truth depends'
on the end of the
That which is in
your hand..... With
the meter
of justice that we
willing to

That brand of
justice that which
you may call upon
for the sake of your
fellow man!

Gary Fields
Censored in Contrast

Copyright © Gary Fields

Long Poems