Long poem by
Melanie Palmer | Details |
A couple decided to walk
down to the park near the river
At that time, you could barely see the crimson moon, just a sliver
That moon was always that color on Halloween night.
Lexy was holding on to James hands very tight.
They were so romantically in love
Lexy thought he was sent from above.
The moon had finally came out from behind the clouds
While they were standing by the river they had heard something crack loud.
Lexy grabbed James and screamed, "Let's get out of here."
She had a fearful look on her face and turned to tears.
It was too late, a strange creature came out of the water with fiery eyes. They were grabbed from behind, as she started to cry.
They couldn't even scream
their mouth were covered.
The creature said, "You two lovers, are mine tonight."
I need two virgins for the witch
had been watching you all year
Their faces were white, full of fear.
The creature had blood
flowing from his eyes
As he completely came out of the water,
He was all covered with flies.
Lexy and James hands were finally tied.
The two who had grabbed them
walked in front of them at last
They were zombies, dry blood Tongues were like a serpents, fast
they didn't dare move for they were poisonous with venom.
A boat came by, the monster gave the kids to the witch
when she spoke, she was loud and had a high pitch.
When Lexy and James were placed
in the boat,
The witch cast a spell, then put on a black coat.
When she cast another spell, large snakes came out, then wrapped
around their bodies, hissing,
they were trapped.
Boat finally stopped, snakes had disappeared, zombies had came
and picked them up out of the boat,
laid on a huge rock, positioned same.
Their hands and feet were spread
tied to the trees, next to where they laid,
spells were cast, evil prayers were chanted, when ordered, zombies obeyed.
A goblet came over with a dagger
piercing them through the heart
they died instantly, which was planned from the start.
Poured the blood, from the heart into the glass bowl, too
Each zombie and goblet sipped blood from the bowl, they knew
they had to chant, then the leaders of the group and the witch bit through
it and bit a piece from the heart.
Passed it around to each zombie
so they could do the same
gave them energy and now
they were no longer tame.
Ate all the flesh off the bodies, made a sacrifice, spirits came out and flew away,
turned midnight and disappeared, they all went to their homes to stay.
© Melanie . All rights reserved,
Long poem by
Natasha Horton | Details |
Separation rules the nation it seems
Our race decrease the identity that cannot be redeemed
Yes we have amicable lives whom still believe in MLK's dream
The steam from our hatred of deceit and misfortune
Has brought our brains to be washed in them
I feel like my people don't understand fear
Only the kind that could end your life or when the boys in blue are near
It's very rare for a black community to have unity
Even though their own may bring forth destruction or present a bad opportunity
Blind in a path of darkness, deciding to change but it's too late
Went down the wrong road and took the bait
Putting ourselves in situations we didn't want to create
It's Satan's job to keep you in that place
But God said to repent and He'll forgive and it'll be erased
What's happening to us in this world today?
It's very obvious where some of our people's priorities lay
Are we really that distracted
On the hottest rapper, shoes, money, and fashion
Disaster is right around the corner while your're ignoring the real problem that's about to happen
Reactions are suppose to be in the realm of wisdom
Being in your feelings can sometimes be the end of your feedom
Just listen to what people say and what they do
Why? Trust me, they are watching your every move
You were born to win and not loose
Let's encourage one another and not be abused
By those who taught us the false hood of our heritage
For it goes beyond Harriett Tubman
We are royalty
Kings and Queens with true loyalty
Now we have become jokers and servants
Stripped for our knowledge to be non-observant
To follow the rules of this land
Limits us by a simple code through the government's hands
Tobacco and liquor stores on every corner
Yet shutdown the programs the kept our kids out of trouble
Double negatives that play in our lives
Despise those who take our future for granted and not recognize that we were structured not to survive
Open your eyes
For time is not on our side
Never was and never will be
Yet we still have control of what we face and see
Clock is ticking
No more wishing
That circumstances will change
Yes, faith can rearrange all things
Pray about it, trust and witness your abundance
For we have always been the chosen ones from each end of the compass
Wake up and know who you are
For God has brought us this far to reach the stars
Long poem by
Reynaldo Mast | Details |
I will start with using my hand as a guide
And in the end I will open my eyes that I will decide
I consider to do this with one thing in mind
I will close my eyes and will imagine it blind
With no colors or fractionation of the light
Just plain me and a vision with my hand as my sight
My hair is very coarse and some what fine
What I just described is so benign
I twirl my hair and make it bend
And I will say its very clean not oily on the ends
As I press on my forehead I simply feel a distinct part
I notice from hair to skin it is very different from the start
The simple partings from hair not like skin
I am going to feel with my other hand and begin
The smoothness of my skin like years of water eroding a rough rock surface smooth
Not just that my skin is like home to years of stories like scars and attitude
And when I raise my eyebrows the wrinkles it makes is more so for expression
I did not notice it with certain ideas, thoughts, and emotions
I run my hands down to my eyelids I feel movement of my eyes trying to peek
Eyelids that I have, vibrates with some kind of fear, Why?, that I will seek
Just now as I thought about it a sensation ran through my brain
My eyes is the world to me and that is true and not insane
Myself portrait of me is through my touch for now
But to finish it I will have to open my eyes soon and how
I been in a trance full of so many ideas just with my eyes closed
I run my hand on my nose and lips and I smile who could apposed
The feelings in the tip of my fingers rub on my chin and jaw with care
I do notice roughness of unshaved velcro gripping hair
I skip my ears so I will sneak a feel with my fingers I chose
I notice it is like my nose with cartilage, so I don't suppose
I will now open my eyes that I will use a mirror to see myself
My head is oval shape and my neck is like a stump, please help
My skin is very tan and my eyes are brown with my eyes I see
With all the description with my hands, one sure thing is the same and key
It is the description of measurements that is what my hands and eyes can see me
With a smile I am looking into the mirror and I can describe that I am happy
Myself portrait of me is such a way to get to know myself once more
I will never think it was a waste of time or a bore
Long poem by
Bill Yates | Details |
With mellow eyes she came
Across the vacant lot,
With skin so fair and shining hair,
Ten years old and smiling.
I was only nine.
We were neighbors
Friends, neighbors, sidewalk skaters
We climbed a tree in mother's yard
And spoke of Ike and Mamie.
I never fell from that pear tree
But slipping some I fell for her.
Time passed and the year
Between us was a curse;
She passed through school ahead of me
While cheering teams of running boys,
A charming girl beyond dispute.
I thought I'd tasted love.
Like every careless youth
whose clock is barely ticking
ripened fruit was there to grasp,
though just beyond my reach.
That smiling girl was never cruel
She grew into a woman
I moved to California in my youth
And landed in a tiny town
Upon the coast of ocean.
There is something about girls and ball
That really cannot be fathomed
We love the game, we love the girls
We fall and we are smitten
Running up and down the court
And only think of winning.
Women are little girls that grow
Tall and comely figured.
Little boys, they grow up too.
Fools they are and fools they stay
While women grow much wiser.
If I could live my life again
Would I be any wiser?
My comfort came from books and girls
And guitars playing soft sweet tunes
With singing running over.
Another girl with mellow eyes
Came to me one dawning day
The sun came out, the clouds dispersed.
We talked and knew that we
Had found our lives entwined.
I looked for love, I looked for art
I sought some understanding
The love I found was in my wife
The art in understanding
She was more than me for sure
And more than that I bound to her.
The years flew past, there was no stop
No going back, no turning left
No halting of the clock.
We walked along the path of life
We tried to gauge our feelings.
We walked through the grass,
We talked until dawn,
We drove the back roads,
We slept intertwined.
Everything I needed then
Was there just for the taking
We held the hand, we met the eye
No intimacy was lacking
We never were apart until by fate
She faded out of sight.
Long poem by
Thomas Hsi | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/heavens_above_that_mountain_588361' st_title='Heaven's Above That Mountain'>
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
POETIC LYRICS BY THOMAS L.H. ANDRESS
Long poem by
Kristopher Higgs | Details |
While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
Long poem by
Robert Candler | Details |
Very early Fall morning…crisp and clear.
Sitting on the patio, sipping hot coffee.
Only my path to and from the bird feeders,
Rain gutters hung on the stockade fence,
Has disturbed the beautiful, glistening dew
Blanketing a lush, green Bermuda lawn
Awaiting the season’s final mow and a Winter sleep.
Early morning sunsmile creates a mist, a little fog,
That artists have great difficulty recreating.
And the sprinklers are making music too….
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH
As I filled those bird feeders,
Only the patient cooing of white wing dove
Waiting in the surrounding trees
Could barely be heard above the sprinkler.
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH
Feeders filled, I walked away.
The air erupted with bird song.
Our giant privets were alive with hungry sparrows,
Each announcing breakfast.
All the locals seemed to understand.
The robins and larks, the finches and cardinals chimed in;
But only the jays’ sharp calls could be heard above the din.
What a ruckus…but so beautiful a song,
It is a ‘wall of sound’ to be envied by rockers.
Orchestrated by Mother Nature….Mrs. God.
The sprinkler's barely heard....
ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch
Squirrels wait out of sight.
One may bark now and then, but
They’ve learned that patience pays.
It’s not just time to feed those damn birds;
It’s time to feed the greedy squirrels too;
And chow time is well worth the wait:
Sunflower seeds. Peanuts. Suet. Dried fruit.
You can almost hear them as they gobble,
“Mmmmmm. Man, this is the good stuff, Bro’.
I mean the good stuff. What a life.
I’ll never leave…not even for a girl squirrel.”
It’s as if they think they’ll never eat again;
As if we hadn’t been feeding them
Every day of their lives…and their parents.
If we could tell them apart.
They would have names.
All this and good coffee too.
What a beautiful Fall morning.
Long poem by
heather gray | Details |
I love to stay involed with my community.One of the ways I do that is by playing
sports. Playing sports is a great way to meet new people. It’s fun because when I
go to some of the other high schools I see people from our old teams who you
are playing against now. Everyone involved in sports here at Mercy High is
encouraging and supporting. The sports I am involved in are cross country,
basketball, and soccer.
One of the sports I do is cross country. This is the first year I have
ever done cross country. It has been extremely fun being on the cross country
team because all the girls on the team are super nice. During every race they will
be there cheering me on, even if I am the last one too cross the finish line. I think
that running can be boring, but my parents, coaches and other runners always
encourage me. The main reason I am doing cross country though is to stay in
shape for basketball.
My favorite sport is basketball, which I play in the winter. I have been
playing basketball ever since I was a second grader. Basketball is my favorite
sport because I love the way the game is constructed.. Basketball is a team
sport. You could be the best player in the world but have awful teammates which
could results in a loss.
During the Spring I play soccer. Just like basketball, soccer is a team
sport. You need to be able to communicate with the other players. I have been
playing soccer almost my whole life. Soccer is a great sport for anyone to play
because when you are younger the soccer ball and fields are all smaller. Some
sports are to hard to play when you are young because you don’t have the
Long poem by
VALERIE BROOKLYN Rogers | Details |
A llegiance to no other VICE except a NEW YORK CITY ATTITUDE
B oroughs Brooklyn, Bronx, Manhattan, Queens and Staten island, take your pick
C ity that never sleeps
D isown your chewing gum on the sidewalk
E mpire state of mind is what you develop when living in NYC
F REAKS and freedom come out at night
G et the gusto and GO!
H arlem is where you need to be when converging in NEW YORK CITY
I n New York City manners are not usually common placed
J ust watch the closing DOORS, you'll be OK
K nowing an URBAN LEGEND is a prerequisite to NYC living
L eft FOOT losers lurk around EVERY other corner
M ost New Yorkers are always rushing off to work at rush hour then rushing back home
N ightlife, NEON lights and honking horns
O nly alliances are with other NYC loving metropolitans
P olice are there to assist (unless you need assistance)
Q uietness is not an option
R ising repeatedly to early morning blaring fire engines and loud radio playing
S taten Island ferry or would you rather the Statue of Liberty?
T imes Square New year eve testimonial, NYC for real!!
U nder no circumstances are you to ever AGITATE (piss off) a NYC police officer
V ery energized New Yorkers (metropolitans) visiting Broadway
W hy does NYC have a subway system? For tourists of course!
X marks the spot, you are HERE.
Y ou a New Yorker?
Z estfully going along for the ride. TAXI!!
This hype is NYC stereotype. ONLY IN NEW YORK. NYC IS a great place to visit and maybe you'd wanna live there. You GETTIN' in that TAXI?! New York City Baabee!!
THAT'S real. YOU GOTTA PROBLEM?!
Long poem by
Robert L. Hinshaw | Details |
O'er the undulating prairie where grows soy beans and corn,
Generations of premier basketball players have been born.
The Hoosier State of Indiana, where budding talent is so replete,
Where small towns can conquer titans, shocking them in defeat!
Long before lads and lassies leave the cradle to crawl upon the floor,
Dads have hung a backboard and hoop above every garage door.
Seldom is seen a Hoosier home without this indigenous adornment!
The flame begins early in Indiana, stirring souls with excitement!
Ah! The exuberance builds as high schools begin a brand-new season.
Not to support the hometown team is almost akin to treason!
Creative cheerleaders perfect frenzied gyrations honing their skills.
The marching bands look sharp having perfected intricate drills!
Moms, Dads and coaches take pride in their young men and women,
As they mentor, teach and train them to develop their acumen.
Young warriors opposing each other upon friendly fields of strife,
Strengthen character to meet the challenges facing them in life!
A Canadian invented the game using peach baskets and a soccer ball.
You daren't mention that to a Hoosier fan - you're apt to start a brawl!
But Hoosiers don't bother themselves about that, caring not a whit.
Basketball is an inbred thing in Indiana, everyone is happy to admit!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Written at the request of the Indiana Basketball Hall of Fame, New Castle, Indiana,
for publication in their Winter 2004 publication, "Indiana Basketball History Magazine"