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Long poem by Robert Stoner Jr | Details |

Scene Of The Crime - Trilogy

Scene Of The Crime :   Part I

tap, tap, tap, print faded as the worn ribbon
why am I doing this, I’m a detective not a secretary
the streets are my beat, not this rhythm of tap, tap, tap
a mouth full of day old coffee, too late to spit out

stuck doing night reports, hard chair
endless information, unsolved case
tap, tap, tap, time: 10.45 pm
place: 156 51st Ave. S, bad end of town

distracting radio playing Stormy Weather
new guy Sinatra adding to my headache
single gold earring ,strange where’s it’s twin
two bit room in a sleazy strip, tap, tap, tap

camels burnt low in the ashtray
victims cheap lipstick red as blood
not all butts stained by her lips, companion
dames probably a hooker working a john

packed bags, air line ticket to Miami in worn purse
cheap seat, one way trip, tap, tap, tap
one last trick for the road, smiling
one last trick for life, just another night

Scene Of The Crime: Investigation  Part II

second cup of coffee, half eaten lunker on the car seat
miserable drizzle matches the fog within
mornings are not my time, I’m a creature of night
perusing leads of last nights murder, unsolved case

follow up visit to the sleazy motel, worse by day
roust desk clerk for information, withholding ,evasive
name on guest log Mary Smith, obvious alias
what was she hiding, who was she hiding from

checked in alone, butts in ash tray tell different story
10:30 pm disturbance in room 18, scream, loud noise
room 19 called clerk complaining, can’t sleep, stop noise
door open woman on floor, blood , silence, noise stopped

drivers license, name Mary Hurte, appropriate
record check no priors, clean slate
no witnesses, everyone blind and deaf to questions
usual police cooperation, old news

rain now, the slap, slap, slap of wipers 
across town to airport, ticket to Miami, next lead
worn top coat and fedora to feign off  rain
appearance of hobo fresh from a box car

bring out the badge, flash the gold
records are open, passenger manifest checked 
connecting flight to Miami, light load
Mary Hurte 4:45 today, she’ll be late

one other passenger, Tony D’amato, rings bell
back to station to for records check, Tony D’amato
this old cop still has it, fresh on the blotter
fish fresh outta the can, robbery ,extortion

last address unknown, nothings easy
stake out at airport, follow up only lead
4:00 no lunch, grab cold dog and stale coffee at airport
officers staked out, gate 3, scanning for suspect

field of people, similar faces, no value to me
yellow cab stops at cab stand, tension, expectation
exiting large man, grey top coat, black fedora
cigarette hanging from droopy wet lips

bag unloaded, bills thrown to cabbie
suspicious nature, quick glances, stiff posture
suspect in sight, dangerous, hand in pocket
fingers fidgeting relentlessly in pocket, possible gun

approach with caution, big surprise my job
eyes meet, time stops, uncertainty
slide my coat open badge flashes, cold steel shown
suspects hands move, bag dropped, a reach for inside coat 

crowd screams, people run, cops shout
my weapons drawn in a flash, experience pays off
suspect freezes, pressure on my trigger
in gods hands now, not my choice

suspect stops, relief, caution, deceit
slow raise of hands, smiling like an innocent kid
slap to car, frisk, 38 snub nose inside coat, one gold earring in pocket
crisis averted, life goes on, just another day

Scene Of The Crime: Arrest  Part III

slap, slap, slap of the wipers, will this rain ever stop
suspect arrested, bracelets on in backseat, rides too long 
smell of fear, sweat, tension thick with windows up
questions to be asked, lies to unfold, truth torn out 

Name: Tony D’amato
Place of birth: Brooklyn NY
DOB : 1908
Age: 32

this bird has a wrap sheet like a Mozart Symphony
fan club of the N Y P D, career criminal 
regular tenant of the Grey Bar Hotel, jail bird
going to see he doesn’t miss his reunion at Rikers

Evidence: one gold earring, matching  gold earring at crime scene
                  two tickets to Miami bought in his name 
                  one in his possession, one in victims purse
                  one 38 caliber pistol, ballistics match to murder weapon

overwhelming evidence, confession forth coming, reluctance
events are told, same old story different day
small value to big events, wasted effort
anger, passion of the moment, thoughtless actions

Mary’s infidelity while Tony cooled his heals in the slammer
search to escape, changed plans, reluctant partner
anger, hate, vengeance, destruction
Toni’s pride, manhood, battle of wills, murder

tap, tap, tap, print as faded as the worn ribbon
endless information, hard chair
stale coffee burning a hole in my stomach
distracting radio, Stardust, hate Sinatra

another late night, reports, always reports
too many cigarettes, no sleep, bad food, lousy wages
why bother, get a different job, easy life, tap, tap, tap
justice done, case closed, just another night

Robert Gene Stoner Jr
12/6/14 ©

Long poem by T Wignesan | Details |

Is there an Exclusive All-in-One Principle

  ‘ In general, quantum mechanics does not predict a single definite result for an observation. Instead, it predicts a number of  different possible outcomes and tells us how likely each of these is. ‘

Which side of the Wolf-coin are we looking at

                  the red or the green

                                 nothing then is certain

not even death but the life one endures

 quarks protons neutrons electrons bosons

particles like men and beings in general

                                             bathe not necessarily in the same lifeless soup

         great teachers or rather teachers with great followings

     those that always attract those who prefer to let others do the thinking  for them

         especially through transcendentally transmitted interstellar telegraphy

                 would want us believe

                                             there’s just This One

  and all comes and goes to That Only ONE

If only it were just as simple as that

Then what is it that This One wants

Or is It caught up in its own caveat

And must of needs come apart

        on the seed that It alone plants

                           and do what we may

   nothing goes wrong

            whatever the explanation

everybody is right

right from the start


         Big Bang from a tight-fisted unfurling hand

         Big Crunch to a crushing tightening stranglehold

and out again

         for the Brahma Day

and after aeons the Brahma Night

And at the stillstanding blackhole singularity

         neither space nor time

            squeezed in and out

Birth as in Death

An eventual point of total extinction

        if ever there was one

Yet always the two extremes

      and the ever-changing in-betweens

Matter versus Anti-Matter

Here the Yang is not lkely to be set againt the Yin

Though matter itself is neither

Is nor Is-Not-ness

         And the 96% Dark Matter

          And the infinite number of parallel universes

Does it really matter


         ‘ … if you meet your antiself, don’t shake hands !

            You would both vanish in a great flash of light.’                   

Vanish into what

                                    Dark matter

or just non-dark matter

Still the duality of matter

Still the ever-changing conundrum

              Everything moves jostles couples alters reproduces destructs


         ‘Sex is emotion in motion.’

Emotion erupts

           into thin air

      into where

Dark air

Motion disrupts

         and roots one here

      tied to the lunar year

       why should it matter

if we cannot know the reason why

ego id libido

drive faith fame femme father future

if super/alter ego connects the ego

       to the collective unconscious 

       why drown the self in the Great Self

by wilful act

       when the Ultimate One

is the sum of all the little ones

Is the Original One incapable of absorbing all the ones

each of whom must move to eat drink sleep

copulate make money grow roots in a society

get and fight to keep a job

make love marry raise children

struggle to keep one’s wife one’s children        

one’s house  if one can get one

one’s career one’s future

and helter-skelter race to cheat death

If it’s the self-same thing that’s being born anew

What does it matter if it keeps changing in view

Of the desperate haste with which everything

We see smell hear feel intute sense

Keeps hurtling away from the Ding an Sich

And leaves us with a parochial Milky Way

Bastardised stealthily by grandiose Andromeda        

Left retrograded entwined within measely galaxy clusters 

Through some trillion cataclysmic light years

What’s the impulse to keep moving

Is the yogi’s stilled-centre

The death of all action

Which cannot call for a reaction

Or is the art of keeping still

Merely the art of making belief


          ‘…actors act out the pun that life is the art of acting

until your performed role becomes your normal character.

Then you are safe inside your character armour.’


As soon as you have thought It out

It turns around and re-structrures Itself inside out

                 and you know just why

                                                               don’t you now


References to the quotations

Stephen W. Hawking, A Brief History of Time : From the Big Bang to Black Holes, London-New York, 1988.


Attributed to Mae West.

Eric N. W. Mottram,  « Men & Gods : A Study of Eugene O’Neill », Encore (London), 1963.

I’m not sure the « re-structuring » bit at the end comes from
Steven Weinberg or John Gribbin, or perhaps even from Fred Allan Wolf ?


© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2005 ; rev. 2012. From the collection : Poems Omega-Plus, 2005.

Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

The Sooner Recruit

Fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan;
And watched thousands of recruits try to make my Sooners Team.
Often, I’ve enviously wondered what it must be like
To be a touted Sooners recruit, living out his dream.

He’d had a great career through high school;
Made good grades, was a football star, played baseball too.
Coach said college recruiters were watching closely;
So, he tried his very best to make his dream come true.

You see, he’d played on the L’il Sooners as a kid;
Started getting serious about the game when he was only eight
Played with older, bigger boys and practiced hard;
Always told his friends, “To be a Sooner, ya gotta play great”.

Oh yes, his parents raised a football player;
And, even more important, a Sooners fan;
But he wanted more, to be a Sooner,
To feel the glory raining down from the stands. 

Now, the Sooners’ Head Coach is in his living room.
“Son, you’ve got talent.  We think you fit our scheme.
We’re offering you a scholarship, an opportunity
To be an important member of our great Sooners Team”.

His mother smiles her biggest smile.
His father nods proudly and pats him on the knee.
“Lord knows, son, it’s a dream come true.
Go be the very best Sooner you can be”.

He walks into the locker room,
Not quite sure what to expect;
But sure that to play for the Sooners
He will first have to earn respect.

He looks each man straight in the eye - 
Other recruits, trainers, assistants, and every coach.
“Be proud, but respectful”, his mother had said;
Your character, more than your performance, must be above reproach”.

His handshake is firm and he smiles.
“Only one chance for a first impression”, his father had said;
"Always put yourself in positive light, on and off the field.
That’s what it will take to play for the mighty Big Red”.

He meets so many other recruits, each one a high school star.
He’s played against a few and knows they share his dream.
And, to a man, each knows before any chance for Glory,
He first must prove worthy to play for this Sooners Team.

He knows a few will fail to meet the coaches’ expectations.
For some, the scout team will be their fate.
Many will suit up, but rarely play.
Only the very best will ever dare to be great.

Coach says, “If every man learns and executes when called on,
Then this team, we Sooners, will win a lot of games;
But, win or lose, if you play hard and give your very best,
You’ll never have to hang your heads in shame”.

“But gentlemen, with or without you, this team will win.
Every season, the Sooners strive to win it All.
So, listen, work hard, and prepare yourselves.  Each game is war...
And you must be ready when Victory calls”.

Through grueling practices, he finds himself.
As he walks to class, his closest friends are aches and pains;
But, just the other day, Coach helped him up, smiled, and patted his helmet.
“You’re doin’ fine, son.  Keep pushin’.  Remember, no pain, no gain”.

He sees his name on the "open scrimmage" roster for the very first time.
It’s a moment he’ll never forget, another milestone in his dream.
He calls his Mom and Dad, knowing they’ll tell his family and his friends.
He hopes they’ll actually see him play, proof he’s made the Team.

As he suits up for the last pre-season open scrimmage,
He wonders if the coaches would really let a freshman play at all;
But Coach puts him in for eight plays against the first team;
He makes two great open-field tackles and intercepts the ball.

He barely hears the roar of the crowd, as the whole defense “gives him five”.
He’s so excited, he forgets to ask if he can keep that ball.
Fans are buzzing, “Did you see that hit”!?  “Who is that kid”!?
“Will he red shirt or will Coach let him play this fall”? 

He sees his name in the Sunday paper, hears it on local sports.
He’s happy, but he doesn’t let it go to his head.
He keeps his focus and uses it as motivation.
After all, he wants to start one day for the mighty Big Red.

Yes, we’ll hear more of this young recruit.
Perhaps, one day he’ll be the hero of the game.
A seasoned veteran, maybe All Conference or even All American,
Who’s tasted Victory many times and helped glorify the Sooners’ name.

Oh yes, there have been so many who’ve aspired;
But many fewer who’ve actually made our Sooners Team.
They are our heroes, each and every one;
For it’s through their accomplishments, we fans can live the dream.

Billy Vessels, Steve Owens, Billy Sims, and Jason White,
The Selmons, Little Joe, the Boz, Josh Heupel, and “Q”
They, and so many others, were once touted Sooners recruits;
Who set a higher mark and built the Tradition that is OU.

So, c’mon! c’mon! all you great young football players!
Dedicate your talents to OU’s Team and OU’s Fans.
Make Oklahoma’s Owen Field your Field of Dreams,
And feel the Glory raining down from the stands. 

Long poem by Therese Bacha | Details |

A To Z An Amazing Couple

                ~A To Z An Amazing Couple~

A is for Allow me to write a poem about my best friends 
love affair with an army man, she was 35 years old he was 
the same age living together for the past 5 years.

B is for Believing his love towards her as thee perpetual 
love of the century their love is amazing, their sharing is 
united, intelligence, its endearment, understanding 
everything for a wonderful happy life together.

C is for Creative in her work, she is a born philosopher
so much she has patience, she loves her job, she exists 
to give all her entity to her lover.

D is for Destiny for a unison hopefully to be able
to have a child of their own. They try each month
the tests come out negative. 

E is for Eloping one day when she gets pregnant
marry and settle down in a beautiful country side 
mansion that has been bought already.

F is for Forgetting to think about moving now to their 
new home until she becomes pregnant. This month her
hopes were high as a future mother would sense that.

G is for Great news was announced on the phone to her
husband she is pregnant. That evening was a unique
celebration champagne dinner for 2 in the most beautiful
restaurant by the ocean. Following that evening was their
love making an enormous pleasure together never happened
before she told me. 

H is for Happiness to the beyond, apart her work the buying
stuff for the baby, the babies room was a heavenly event for
both of them, they moved that month to their mansion by the 

I is for Induced her delivery in the hospital that day, and her baby
son was born in 2 hours, so healthy and beautiful baby lying in
his mothers arms looking at her with yearning eyes.
J is for Joining close family and friends after a few days arrival
at their mansion. 

K is for Kissing the baby and his dream she's a mother & his
disbelief that he is actually a father.

L is for Living together when the wedding took place in a small
church only family and the bride holding her baby boy in her arms.

M is for Married an hour ago their entry to their mansion was an 
unforgettable event the house was decorated with roses everywhere.

N is for Never would they both forget how important their sons
career will be. Both vowed to stand by him grow together for the
utmost accomplishment of his success in studying as a lawyer.
O is for Ordering their breakfast after a sleepless night the baby
needing his mum every 3 hours to feed him the amazing sensation 
of a full house filled with babies soft cry.

P is for Presents that he had bought for his wife a Diamond ring
with a beautiful pearl necklace which she wore with pride.

Q is for Quitting her job after years of practice was so important
as her dreams for her son to become a senetor in her goverment.

R is for Running for PM after graduating from Harvard University
His parents mansion over the years was transformed into invitations 
huge gala for politicians finding him extremely adequate for this job. 

S is for Signing papers as her son started to get involved with the 
senators and sharing talks about her sons involvements with
politics. She was his right hand. 

T is for Turning over to the secretary all the confidential papers
and she was very happy with the choice his son made about the 
new secretary, his office was huge and employees everywhere.

U is for Unbelievable but true she was relieved at last and now
that her son is on the right track she will have all the time to be
again with her husband a normal life. 

V is for Very close to her husbands office she decided to stop by
and surprise him for lunch at her favorite restaurant. 

W is for Where is he the office was empty she has been so much 
involved with her son she had neglected her husband. 
She was told he went home already.

X is for Xmas was around the corner next month she went to buy 
the Christmas decorations to surprise her husband. 

Y is for Yelling for someone to come and help her instead she sees
her son in tears running towards her he hugged her and whispered
in her ear I have some news.
Mum dad I am already elected I will make you proud of me.

Z is for Zap will be my goal I promise you dad and mum 
he got married and was elected.The first youngest to gain that 

Therese Bacha

Long poem by Marvin D. Schrebe | Details |

What Ever Happened to Fire and Brimstone Preaching

As I sit here on a Saturday night and prepare my heart for the Lord’s Day tomorrow I can’t help but reminisce about the days I spent in church as a child. The one thing that stands out about the difference between those days and now is the style and topic of preaching in churches. It seems that Hell is a topic that preachers neatly avoid in their list of sermons these days. Perhaps that is why sin is so rampant in our society! Hell is a very real place. So why do preachers avoid this subject like the plague?
	I have a general idea that it is avoided in part because of the new mindset in the church that God is nothing but love. While it is true that one of the characteristics of God is that God is pure love, God also has other characteristics. Among those characteristics is justice. God is Just and by His very nature He has to judge sin. Therefore it is incumbent on preachers to remind sinners of the price to be paid for denying Christ Jesus. 
	Another reason preachers may avoid the subject of hell today is because many preachers are career preachers. Therefore they do not want to disturb their congregations too badly!  The Apostle Paul warned us that these types were eventually coming along. He says “For the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths”, II Timothy 4: 3 New International Version.
	Hell is a very real place. It is imperative that the world wake up and realize that God wasn’t Joking when He gave us His word and demanded “…be holy because I am holy”, Leviticus 11: 44.

As I sit here on a Saturday night and prepare my heart for the Lord’s Day tomorrow I can’t help but reminisce about the days I spent in church as a child. The one thing that stands out about the difference between those days and now is the style and topic of preaching in churches. It seems that Hell is a topic that preachers neatly avoid in their list of sermons these days. Perhaps that is why sin is so rampant in our society! Hell is a very real place. So why do preachers avoid this subject like the plague?
	I have a general idea that it is avoided in part because of the new mindset in the church that God is nothing but love. While it is true that one of the characteristics of God is that God is pure love, God also has other characteristics. Among those characteristics is justice. God is Just and by His very nature He has to judge sin. Therefore it is incumbent on preachers to remind sinners of the price to be paid for denying Christ Jesus. 
	Another reason preachers may avoid the subject of hell today is because many preachers are career preachers. Therefore they do not want to disturb their congregations too badly!  The Apostle Paul warned us that these types were eventually coming along. He says “For the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths”, II Timothy 4: 3 New International Version.
	Hell is a very real place. It is imperative that the world wake up and realize that God wasn’t Joking when He gave us His word and demanded “…be holy because I am holy”, Leviticus 11: 44.

Long poem by Ed roberts | Details |

5 Single Words

There is a poem I wrote several years ago that several people have written me saying how it helped them decide not to take their own life. Several people have asked me "How can you write a poem that can actually save the life of another?" My answer is simple, spend a day in bed with a loaded gun and then be willing to tell the entire world what it took to keep you from pulling the trigger. With me it came down to ---

5 Single Words

There was a man
Only 30 years of age
He found himself at the end of the road
He had lost his job
His career
His money
His savings
What there had been of it anyway
All because of a simple accident
Well, not so simple of an accident
For he was also facing the possibility
The possibility that he would never walk

He had fought
Tried to look at every possible angle
Until he came to but one conclusion
One that a person
That has never been in this situation
Could possibly ever understand

He waited
Waited there in bed
The bed that he was becoming way too accustomed to
Until his wife had left for work
Until the kids had been sent off to school
Waited there until he was finally
All alone
He had argued and fought
This was against all that he believed in
But there it was 
Hidden in the words of an obscure insurance policy
To some
He was worth more dead
Than alive

Surely they would understand
He tried to explain it in a note
He knew that God might not be able to 
But he pleaded for their forgiveness
And he was afraid that somehow
Somehow he might just become to them
A burden
This was just more than he could take

So he laid there in that bed
All alone
With a loaded pistol in his hand
Fighting a losing battle
With the simple reasoning and logic
That had driven him to this decision

In the very instant
The moment when it had finally come down
Down to raising the barrel to his head
He heard a whisper
A voice
Barely audible
But familiar somehow
5 words 
That was it 
19 letters
That made him stop

Who will find your body

Would it be one of the kids
Possibly his father
That said that he might come over
Or would it be his wife

There were so many possibilities
So many different people
And that was when it hit him
Hit him how really blinded 
He had let himself become

He put the gun away
And was very careful
Careful that no one else saw how often
For the next few days
That he cried

Some people would argue
That this was simply his conscious
That there really isn’t such a person 
As God in heaven
I know one man that will argue this point
And do so with great reason
For in the darkest hour and moments
Of a 30-year-old man’s life
God himself came down from heaven
And spoke just 5 single words
And if you haven’t figured it out by now
I thank Him every single day of my life
That He was there
To give me the strength 
And the courage
To listen

Ed Roberts 8/04/02

At the age of 30 I had 3 1/2 gallons of 350 degree grease spill down both of my legs from my knees down. Two different doctors told me I would probably never get out of a wheelchair. By the grace of God I have climbed three mountains since then.

Long poem by Brian Johnston | Details |

Growing Up, La - Part 3 - Rev 2

Chapter 3: College Preparation

My freshman year started quite smooth
Touch football broke my leg
My luck we had a tennis coach,
That brought things down a peg!

My algebra was like a dream,
Played tennis, found it fun,
And Science Fairs exciting too,
My robots prizes won.
But science then moved up a notch
Geometry a match
The Theorems needed for a test
I could derive from scratch.
In sophomore year the Sputnik scare,
And NASA offered grants,
For gifted Juniors special schools,
Success by seat of pants. (1)
Two Sophomores allowed to go,
Both had ability,
With new kids older and quite bright,
Learned best humility.
This signed my fate for now I knew
There was no farm in me.
A life spent drifting toward the stars
My new reality.
New friends from here would span my life,
In college meet again,
Shared interests bound us to a path,
A subtle way to win!

A men’s septet (2) sprang from school choir
We traveled near and far.
And formed a music brotherhood,
Another door ajar!

In Junior year an accident 
Saved me from typing class,
A heavy door slammed shut one day
My hand went through the glass.
So there were operations then,
To fix my injured hand,
Piano lessons ended here,
But I still played in Band.
But no more typing, no more gym
Which made me cry a lot.
When cute girls came to sign my cast,
Sparked dreams with wild subplot.

In senior year my Physics class,
Was taught by football coach,
He could not teach, so we just read,
His plan beyond reproach.
Except for trig twelfth year a waste,
Though English could surprise,
For rhymes from out of nowhere flew,
Delighting ears and eyes.
But then, Oh God, disaster struck
‘All students write a verse,’
A cry rose up like howl of Lear, (3)
What fate be more perverse?
When I got home that evening,
I took my pen in hand,
And onto the page jumped four or five,
For me no reprimand.
But once in class I realized
That half the kids had none,
Discretely handed extras out,
So friends at least had one.
Oh, double, bubble, boil and toil,
A witches’ brew released,
Our teacher mailed to Poem Match
‘My’ patriotic piece!
How queer the quests of teenage kids
The plans of ‘mice and men,’
The saving grace in all this mess?
Thank God it didn’t win!
With poem writing now affirmed,
This poem came to be,
And who knows, maybe, someday hence,
I’ll write something you’ll see.

Brian Johnston
August 22, 2014

Poet's Notes

(1)	'success by seat of pants' - means to barely pass or get by
(2)	‘septet’ – a group of 7 male voices singing Barber Shop music with complicated 
(3)	‘Lear’ -  King Lear’s bloody disaster in Shakespeare’s pay

All three Chapters really are still a work in Progress. I look forward to repeated visits 
comment on each chapter. Thanks for stopping by! 

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! More coming! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! 

Chapter 4: Higher Education
Chapter 5: Peace Corps
Chapter 6: Career & Marriage But No Children 
Chapter 7: Farming
Chapter 8: Retirement
Chapter 9: Philanthropy
Chapter 10: End of Life Preparations

And more possibly

Long poem by James Fraser | Details |

Rwanda's Why

I'm driving through such beauty, this lush rural countryside. I find it hard to believe that my 
career has taken me to here. Being where I am is so much different to the Highlands from where I reside from.

Thankfully my 4 x 4 takes the endless rutting roads with aplomb. Mind you, sometimes they remind me of back home, councils never repairing.

As I drive, visually I see scattered belongings. Has the wind carried them to there, as I stare, whilst driving, mm!

The long and winding road takes me to where I've come from. The Coffee Plantation that allured me here initially, empowers me to think back to it's early days. The wanting of the locals, hungered for work, steady monies, quaint prosperity from their already empty existence. 

The next day, I hear on the news, that Habyarimana and the Burundian President, Cyprien Ntaryamira were on a plane, shot down, all were lost.
Having met Juvénal Habyarimana before, it saddened me totally.

The next day on the local radio, I hear there's been disturbances. Like many places in Africa, it was the norm. Onward I went about readying for work. Off I go, before I reach the entrance, a crowd rushes towards me. Angry to say is an understatement, vociferous they, wielding anything they can lay their hands on. Branches, planks, irons, machete’s to name. I'm now needing to veer, to not hit workers that I recognise.

I stop a few miles from home, sweated, shaking, as to why?

To get to my Coffee Plantation, I have to travel through the local village, town, call it what you may. As I near, like yesterday, strayed clothes abound, but different, and so much more. This time they're reddened, stained, adorning ripped bodies.

Now frightened, I travel on foot, walking through blooded carnage, my stomach churning.

Children clutching their mothers, fathers and sons I assume holding hands. Young girls taken, forsaken, their life seeping into their lands from where they lived.

As I near the village, town, there's shouting, chanting, the stench of burning flesh. Upon view, machetes wield down on many, amidst cries I've unheard of. Limbs now release, torso's tired, fired, my eyes streaming tears for fears. 

In frightened stare, I'm spotted, sadly by my neighbour. He points at me, my heart surges, scared, disturbed by what I've seen. Instinct tells me, run, and I run, Lord do I run.

Upon reaching, fumbling I am for the keys, this image I'd only thought was in the movies. Now where I ask, knowing where I am. For once amidst this, I think, border, which border, as I decide to head East to Tanzania, knowing we have a sister company there.

It's later that day, my eyes now in tears. 

On the news, knowing people I see. Their hacking children, pregnant mothers, fathers and sons.
What's taken this for the Tribes to have undone. I worked with both sides, for many a year. 

I now look back as I'm summoned, to give evidence at the '100 Days of Slaughter'
Caught up I am, to declaring Rwanda's loss, of my Tutsi wife, and our daughters

. 11th Oct 2014.

Long poem by Jenesha Wheeler | Details |

Me and My Jesus

“Me and My Jesus”

In my prayer room my worship Zone. Mind off technology, career, and people just preparing myself to focus on Jesus. Just my bible so I can pour my whole self in.

In my prayer room me and my Jesus. No distraction do not disturb let the spirit move in this room meditating on the love of God that special celestial love of God. No description can descript the Almighty power from the skies. Eyes of Fire his presence along can get you high. The intimate Relationship with him will leave you speechless lost for words. Because the truth is there’s no verbs To descript when he give you a taste of heaven on earth.  All fear in me when he dig deeper in me because after all am I worthy. To pull out  what you don’t want in me to release the anointing upon me. Never have to worry about being forsaken the spirit inside has been awaken.  All powerful and great the blood he sled was not a mistake. So take your place and embrace the Love he want to pour upon you too. It was meant for all not just a few.  Accept him, invite him in so he can wipe every sin. Only him you can depend. He knows your every cry, He know the every need, he want to be your best friend. Because when God is for you who can come against.

In my prayer room me and my Jesus. Now my heart is going out to you. Because I wish I can enforce how with Jesus you can make it through. Me and my Jesus me and my Jesus Me and my Jesus.  You confessing that you 38 hot somebody got you 38 hot while I’m confessing Psalms 38:2 for his name sake he will not rebuke you in is anger nor chastise you. Let Jesus be your banner over inappropriate manners. Repeating the scripture to bless throughout mess. Reading to find the message. To know the MESS got an AGE which means there is a deadline to this stage of life I’m in. It won’t last yes it will pass. Those who are for you will stick closer than a brother. Don’t worry when others don’t understand. The mouth of your enemies will forever talk just make sure on your part with Jesus you will always walk. Know that you live on earth but where you from is the kingdom the language you speak is in tongue, the word only is what flow out even when it seems your life is going a different route. More Jesus More Jesus the Holy Ghost is so great. Many are save but sanctify in his love to relate.  Don’t let your spirit leave me Lord don’t let me go. More word More word I want to know. 

In my prayer room me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus,
In my prayer room me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus,
My cup run over every word comes from the word but sometimes when it hit the world the devil Try to reverse it. Curse it but as long as you got a mouth forever bless it. I will never run out Jesus is my supplier. My cup run over he won’t let me run out 
Don’t put a label on me call it grace when you see me. In my prayer room me and my Jesus me and my Jesus. Me and my Jesus

Long poem by Maurice Yvonne | Details |


My view on seduction, is that what you're asking me? Specifically love, my thoughts on loving a woman, that's what you want to know? Have you ever seen the image of a woman in the ocean while walking along the beach? You know how the shape is all there but void of definition. You know how the shape is sort of broken, how the lines are not distinct. I wonder if that is what we men have done to women, they who we treasure most. How often do they have to hide as a replica in order to protect our egos. To take a back seat because we have a need to drive the car to be in control. So if we don't allow them to be whole... but you know what else, what if they are perfectly defined the fault is in how we view them. What if that is them we have no role, no blame to assume. What if that is exactly the way they want it to remain, shadows of different intensities. What if they want to be a series of reflections. What if the ripples in the water are of their making. I want to hold a woman. Hold her completely defined. learn more about her everyday because I hold her like a book I'm reading. I will tell you this I don't have a need to know everything. If she wants a locked room that she has the only key to, that makes sense to me. Still I want her heart, her laugh, her tears I want the feel of her flesh and I want her defined. I want to see her not just her likeness. I want her smile I want all the expressions of her face. So you're walking along the beach. The relationship is new for the most part you are with her facsimile but if you look down you can see her feet, not just her impression. I can build from that. She is steady she is with me. You want my view on seduction? You have to accept a basketful of contradictions, you have to read the book accept there will be constant re-writes you have to at least see her feet from day one. If you want to make it to the top you have to start at the bottom don't forget there are some great stops on the way up. Seduction? love between two people that's important. You wouldn't treat your career lightly. Get it right. Make sure she leaves footsteps along the beach. That is how you seduce a woman... ...listen to her ...respect her interested in her career ...her wants, her needs ...her opinions ...remember ...don't talk a good game act.
07/10/2014 Sponsor Justin Bordner Contest Name The Heart Of Seduction I understand this is a extremely different view of seduction and might not fit what Justin is looking for. This is his contest and I wholeheartedly respect that. For my taste this poem is very seductive. In it I share what I believe it takes to seduce a woman.

Long Poems