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Long Cat Poems | Long Cat Poetry

Long Cat Poems. Below are the most popular long Cat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cat poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by David William Breidenthal | Details |

Your Sanity

Stuck in place…
Free in space…
you’re insane 
I’m as sweet as sugar cane…
Whatever happened to your unique personality?
Whatever happened to your sanity? 
Has it transformed to insanity?
I like the way you make me feel
Oh, you don’t have to make it a big deal
I love the way you lie about me 
Right behind my back
I never needed you in the first place
I don’t want you back! I don’t want to see your hideous face!
You pushed me in the margins…and you threw me away
You took advantage of me as if it was another boring and laborious day!
I don’t want you back, 
So go ahead and run away with your pack!
I’m the last magazine, 
Left alone on the magazine rack
I don’t want you to see my cry a river…
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Do you see my ocean of emotion? 
Why are you sponging in melancholy?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of serenity
I don’t want to bleed without you…
But you’re rather bittersweet 
You boast way too much – that’s just neat…
I hate the way you treat me – like B.S. literally  
You think you’re better than everyone else – 
I think otherwise, you stinging bee!
You are literally bad to the bone
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Do you understand what I’m saying? 
Do you consider my plea?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of serenity
I’m a loner, talking to myself again, 
Walking all alone…in the streets of shame
My happiness is hardly ever shown – this feeling of rejection has no name
Feelin’ this shame without a name…
I know these feelings might seem lame,
But they’re real to me – 
I’m jaded corrupted
Am I the cause of your misfortune?
Am I a singer, singing out of tune?
I miss you, but at the same time, 
I’m happy that you’re gone
I’ve never grown out of my fears of losing you – that’s sublime!
But, it seems like I can’t move on
Move on…man…just move on with this life
Though I might be the victim of strife
Your envy and heartless comments stabs me like a knife
And you ask if I’m alright…
Good riddance, you weren’t my ecstatic delight! 
You disowned me 
You joined the pack…
You rejected me…
You never got my back
Instead, you stabbed me in the back…
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Do you even remember who I was? 
Your friend who would make your 
Heart jump with glee?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His… 
His compassionate child of jubilance
Am I of any significance? 
You are a wolf in sheep’s clothing
You will feel my loathing…
I’m gaining fruitful insight 
That you lack tremendously
Your thoughtless words 
Made me taste your envy and vanity

Whatever happened to your sanity?
 
Whatever happened to your sanity? 

What are you afraid of? 
Returning to your misery?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll accept you in His family 
We’ll all sing with merriness 
In our hearts, we’ll never let our passion 
Get in the way or our lament will stay
God is our Father and 
We need to honor Him 
And obey every single day
I’m surrounded by my enemies now….
Save me…deliver me from them, 
For they use their bullying ways
God will answer our prayer in His own time – 
It might take hours, it might take days…
Until He takes full action
But He wants us to have a cheerful heart, 
Beating vigorously with gratification 
My emotions are ganging up on me…yah see? 
Will you ever leave me be?
I’m fighting this battle for my own sake…
I will watch you suffer and slowly, but surely break
Don’t take it easy, you’re getting it the hard way
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Whatever happened to your singing, uplifting me?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of tranquility
Tough luck, you jerk! You’re so berserk! 
You’re like a madman…
Bombing the city and doing abominable work!
 
Maybe you’ll find your courage another day
Do me a favor and unchain me free from my poverty
Maybe we’ll be in good terms 
And in the same demented boat
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Why are using uncalled for profanity?
I can relate to your eccentric insanity…
I need you to do me a quick favor and 
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of serenity
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll craft His miracles of mesmerizing euphoria 
Free me from this abhorrent agony 
Keep on pressing on with your uplifting ecstasy…
You would win my heart 
If you’d be so kind to make me a root beer float
You are the opposite of gravity, 
Lifting me higher than the mountains 
That used to stare me down 
The morning will be brought back to life 
Sooner than you think
I’m not in the brink of total disaster – 
I trust you won’t break my heart 
Like you did in the past…
The past’s wicked adversaries reduced me to sorrow
IS there hope in store for Tomorrow? 
Please tell me if it’s so…or this envied grief and curiosity will grow…
You wouldn’t catch me before I sink 
I’d like to thank you – that was sarcasm
I’ll give you a wink that signifies my appreciation of having you, you little brat 
But, you and I have gone through hardships in our personal lives…
I should’ve not of trusted you, but you were as mysterious as a bat! 
You were as sneaky as a black cat! 
You are so deceptive…so corruptive…so inattentive…but I still love you 
Hey! Don’t even try to step on me over and over again like a mat!
I won’t let you stomp all over me like that! 
My faith towards You will never shrink
As long as You’re here with me…
That’s what matters most, you see?
I would like to visit you 
We’ll meet eye to eye one day with a smile on our faces – 
Not a trace of dismay is seen and we’ll share our embraces
I really don’t know what to do or say
I’m speechless, but I’m fatigued, 
So let me lay my head on Your shoulders for a while
I want Your relief to shed Your perpetual peace on me, 
Wiping away the despicable bile
Rinsing away the mixed emotions, piling on me for a while…
It seemed like a long time 
At least it’s all over – at least I don’t take pleasure in committing a crime


Long poem by Dylan Irvin | Details |

Phantom Journals

Phantom Journal Entry 1
 Wednesday 8:03 A.M.
I found Jesus at a bus stop this morning. He recommended that I comb my hair. I told him if I had any nails I would hand them over.  Monty  found a shoe full of vomit by a dumpster. Someone had an interesting night. This apartment smells like stale french fries. Frank is still sleeping on the counter next to Mr. Coffee. There is a stray cat clawing at the windowpane. The town is gradually waking up. The park across the street is filled with shirkers. My mind is still living in last night’s conversation. But I don’t remember it very well.  Shit, I’m going to be late for 

Phantom Journal Entry 2

Wednesday 11:13 P.M.

Work sucked. I think the bartender is an alcoholic. She hides a flask in her bra. It fell out when we were in the stall together. Frank is sprawled across the kitchen floor. Monty steps over him to grab a beer. The stray cat is now sleeping on the windowpane. Nothing ever changes from morning to night. Except Monty is drinking coffee and not beer. 

Phantom Journal Entry 3

Good Friday 9:47 P.M.

The ocean left the brine. The girls here are all made of smoke, and their dreams are living in my beer. The worms are drunk on the stove. Frank passed out hugging the toilet. Monty takes a piss right next to his face. Some girl just asked me what I was writing. I told her that I was rewriting the Bible. She seemed confused. Her hair wasn’t combed either. The guy at the bus stop would be ashamed. I can’t remember his name though. The television can’t stop spewing poorly scripted ‘reality’ shows. This Friday isn’t very Good. 

Phantom Journal Entry 4

Monday 3:12 A.M.

My eyes are broken garage doors off the tracks. I’ve drank too much Red Bull. She keeps waking up and asking me for water. Apparently her mouth is in a drought. A dead soldier lays between her breasts. Frank keeps drooling on the carpet. My favorite ash tray is tipped over next to Mr. Coffee. This desk keeps hiding words from me. Monty wonders how much a plane ticket to Hell costs. He never sleeps.

Phantom Journal Entry 5

Thursday 12:31 A.M.

It smells of raw fish and bleach in here.  My palms are sore. Monty told me to stab myself with pencils to make sure I could still bleed. So I did.  That girl ordered me a pizza. But I forgot it under the couch.  The medicine chest is nearly empty. When Frank wakes up he is taking a trip to 5th Street to get more. I wonder if they sell bandages there? Will Mr. Coffee brew marijuana for us? My brain is starting to throw up. 

Phantom Journal Entry 6

Thursday 12:38 A.M.

This desk keeps mocking me. I offered it to the guy at the bus stop, but he said he didn’t want anymore wood. The dishes are now a chemistry project. But Mr. Coffee is always clean. I can’t get this girl to stop showing me her tattoos. I miss the bartender at work. She got fired tomorrow. So I bought her a new bra. The medicine chest is empty now. Frank is never awake when I write.

Phantom Journal Entry 7

Thursday 4:30 P.M.

I finally got the garage doors fixed. I guess they weren’t closed enough.  There is a ghost that keeps haunting the hallway in my dreams. She is pretty hot. Except she keeps tilting the pictures on the wall.
The thirsty girl still won’t leave. Neither will the cat. We may have found the cure for cancer in our dishes. But probably not.  Frank is talking in his sleep about stepping on rats. Monty is listening to Beethoven while he attempts to write poetry. He is an awful writer. 

Phantom Journal Entry 8

Monday 1:49 A.M.

The guy at the bus stop asked me if I wanted to drink his blood. I told him I wasn’t thirsty. The water was running from the shower. Frank was dreaming in the tub. Monty ate chicken wings with the tattooed girl. I can’t remember her name. I think that cat is hungry too. Mr. Coffee wants to go to sleep. There is broken glass sticking out of my feet. The sky is bleeding white. My mind begins to masturbate.

Phantom Journal Entry 9

Sunday 3:33 A.M.

The brine is looking for the ocean. The girls here are all made of smoke, and their realities are dead on the floor. This desk is growing a face. The medicine chest is full. Monty picks up a filthy habit from the black lake. I haven’t seen Frank for a few days. He must be under the couch. I robbed the guy at the bus stop. Turns out he didn’t really save much. The thirsty tattooed girl shattered Mr. Coffee last night. I will miss him dearly. Now my shot glass is spawning worms. 

Phantom Journal Entry 10

Tuesday and I don’t know what time it is

It’s been 369 days since I last wrote an entry. I’ve simply had nothing to say. Monty is living in the streets somewhere. I think of him every time I buy a loaf of bread. I wonder if he found out how much tickets cost? That cat finally starved a few weeks ago. I married that thirsty tattooed girl. I still don’t remember her name though. Frank went to sleep in someone elses apartment. Never did talk to him much. The worms are all marching in a line. Someone stole my medicine chest. I think it was Monty.  The guy at the bus stop was thrown into an asylum. But somehow vanished one day. The garage doors are now closed on a regular basis. That ghost finally straightened out the tilted pictures. I think I’ve been combing my hair a lot better lately. I am still a phantom to society. But that’s okay. Nobody knows my name.








Long poem by Ruben O. | Details |

Drink Responsible - Slogans -

.
                         Can you hear me now? Good!                                 
                       I can't seem to forget you                                         
                    I love what you do for me                                          
                 It must be love                                                             
              between love and madness lies obsession                       
           Like always. Like never before                                        

At the sign of the                                         cat 
have a break, have a                              Kit-Kat                    
Tastes so good cats ask for it by name 
                                                      Schhhh ... You-know-who       

I'd rather die of thirst than drink from the cup of mediocrity
                                                                  Perfect to you
                                                                       Purely you 
There's a smile in every Bar                                                                                   
               Obey your thirst                                                                        
               This Bud's for you                                                
One a day helps you work, rest, and play                     
               More fun than rum                                             
               Drink responsible                                   
Heineken open your                                            world                                                
Because  that's
                                              i                      n
                                 k                                              d
                          e                                                             o
                        h                                                                 f
                        t                                                                m
                                                                                      o
                                                                                m
                                                                         y
                                                                  o
                                                             u
                                                          a
                                                          r
                                                          e
                                  
 ... nobody can say no to the honey nut O              
a bowl a day keeps the bullies away         

                           
                   Our plans are based on yours                      
                   You have my word on it                    
Be the first to know                       
Who we are                                 
                The "no problem" people  
                                                   Only smarties have the answer           
                                                   Making it all make sense 
                       
Drink responsible                    
                       Because that's the kind of mom you are                
Sometimes you've got to break the rules       
                       Blow your own bubble                           
You're invited                                       
                       Catch our smile?
Everything we do is driven by you                                     
Driven by what's inside                                            
                       We'll take more care of you                                 
                       You asked for it.                You got it                            
We know what it means to serve                 
On your side                                              
Allied on your side     
      
You're in good hands  
We make it happen     
We'll be there                           
Get the feeling                       
Im lovin' it                                   
You are the controller                       
Only on Playstation                    
                                 You are now free to move                
                            Unleash the beast       
                       Is it in you?       
                  Do you dare?   



About this poem:
To "write" this poem, I used slogans, short and often memorable phrases
used in advertising campaigns. Below you can find the name of the product 
(or the company) in order of appearance.

-Verizon Wireless; Wind Song; Toyota; Honda; Calvin Klein; Saturn
-Mercury; Kit Kat; Meow Mix; Schweppes
-Stella Artois; Wella; Dell; Hershey's; Sprite; Budweiser; Mars; Malibu;
 Captain Morgan; Heineken; Rice Krispies; Cheerios; Applejacks Cereal
-Assurant; Isuzu; CNN; Guardian Life Ins; Auto-owners Ins;
 Smarties; Microsoft
-Captain Morgan; Rice Krispies; Buger King; Bubble Yum; Red Hills Inn; 
 Pacific Southwest Airlines;  Ford; Subaru; British Airways; Toyota; USSA;
 Nationwide Mutual Ins; Allied Ins
-Allstate; IBM; Chevrolet; Toyota; Mc Donalds; Microsoft Kinect; PS3;
 Southwest Airlines; Monster Energy; Gatorade; Curious.



Long poem by Ralph Sergi | Details |

A Film Noir Movie

By the lamppost at night
with the pale moon shining bright
but obscured by the fog
I saw her in the harbor
standing where my boat lay moored
but she knew that
her azure eyes beckoned me to come
smoke from the cigarette in her hand
trailing upward and blending with the mist
and the gold braid around her wrist
I remembered my gift

I stood transfixed
if only for a moment
then I walked to her slowly
and tipped my fedora 
and the little joke we shared in love
I asked,"Where have you been all my life?"
Waiting for you, she said
I laughed at her resentfully and said
You left me here from this place
without a note, without a trace
I scoured old haunts, you weren't there
you left as if you didn't care

Remember our walks along the shore
your favorite drink,that special place
in the cafe by the window
where the sun would shine on your hair
and leaving a golden glint
like it did on my boat
when it was in full sail

Then one day you went away
our love became a mystery
that was never solved
now your'e here and I ask you why

There was a war, she said
I lost this guy and you came along
to fill the void and share my sorrow

I loved you, Jake,  your silly hat
the way you tipped it, the boat , the cat
who begged for fish after each catch
she paused and lit another smoke  .
took a puff and exhaled and said


Then one day , he showed up , his name was Clive
the guy I mentioned had survived
and left his tags with a guy who died
and he became an MIA
he was hiding out in Mandalay
involved in something, he wouldn't say
but he wanted me there, he promised me fame
I was a singer, you know
and all the dough that I could want
or all I could take
I just had to know how to play the game
Then I thought of you Jake
and what we had
and I told him , No

He got mean, Jake 
and threatened to expose me 
for what I really was
and I couldn't bear for you to hear
my sordid past, my constant fear
we're both alike, you and me, he said
We'll take what the world has to give
and  grab  it by the throat
or I’ll destroy you if you don’t
As time went by,it didn't take long
to see he was singing a different song
His lies and schemes, the other dolls
I lost my respect and I didn't care
I had to get out, I needed a plan
to rid myself of this rotten man

There was this guy, Buck
who ran the bar, he pitied the plight
that I was in, he hated Clive as much as I
I told him I watched Clive at the end of each night
the cash he hid in a special place
no doubt to leave in a hurry in case things got hot
he would check to see how much was stashed
if it was worth the dare, we would split down the middle
and make our departure at the crack of dawn
I knew a Burmese captain who owned a scow
who asked no questions for a fee
he'd have  some cabins for you and me

Just before closing , I feigned getting ill
and called for Clive to aid me somehow
to stay awhile and give me a pill
and while he was there, Buck went to that spot
took the cash and lit out that night to wait for me.
at a pre destined place

My bag was packed in another room
I told Clive I would rest and join him soon
But as soon as he left, I slipped out 
to the back, grabbed a cab
headed for freedom away from that man
thinking of you and to make things right

She paused for a moment and put out her smoke
and I thought I saw a drop of blood
form on the corner of her mouth
she quickly wiped her hand across her face
and continued her story at a slower pace

I arrived at the pier where the scow lay docked
took one look behind me and looked at the clock
of the building where we were to meet
checked my watch that matched the time
I saw a jeep pull up and he saw me
two grips in his hand and a smile on his face
he said, I got his dough, I'll leave his jeep
It's the least I can do for that miserable creep
I said there's no time to waste
just show me the dough
we'll split down the middle and get ready to go
he said, "Oh"
I'm ready to go but my plans have changed
I'm traveling alone
but I'll leave just enough to change your luck
this one's for you and this one's for Buck

I suspected as much and I scowled as he grinned
but his mouth shaped an O as he looked down below
the knife in his  stomach pulsed  blood from his guts
too late I saw his gun come up as he fell
I fell a pain in my side and clutched my coat
I picked up the bags 
and summoned up strength to get onto the boat

I looked at the captain and said
There's double the price
if we can get away soon
get up some steam 
and head for Rangoon
the captain patched me up 
as good as he could
with the aid of some rum and a smoldering wood
to cauterize the wound

I knew it was wrong to take his life
but I was prepared to kill him
to end this strife
as a precaution, I took the knife
that we used to cut bait with 
a long time ago
the knife stirred up memories

that you and I had
that pressed my decision to leave that cad
but the wound didn't heal, the lead lay impacted
I was resigned to my fate to see you once more
before it's too late... and here you are

She collapsed in my arms and I held her tight
with tears in my eyes , her audible sighs
gasping for breath and leaning toward death

And before she expired, her hand on my face
she said
Where have you been all life, babe
waiting for you, I cried
waiting for you

A tribute to the black and white movies and dialogue of the late 30’s and 40’s 

© Ralph Sergi















Long poem by Ian Howard | Details |

Phobia's

     Phobias
	A Bluto is not that Disney dog
	It was when a mewling 
	that I would scream 
	Should they wet my body
	And then apply cream
	
	Ablutophobia – fear of bathing, washing, or cleaning
	
	Achluo the demon that lurks
	In darkened corners
	The long toothed life suckers realm
	I am scared as the sun dims
	It seems to bare my soul
	
	Achluophobia – fear of darkness
	Acro what did they do 
	They called me acrobat 
	This will not do
	I get giddy standing on a matchbox
	Please get a net to see me through
	Acrophobia – fear of heights

	
	Agora just shut that door 
	I am staying here forever more
	Bring me food put it on the floor
	The letter box is just for you
	Don’t, Don’t,  try to get through
	
	Agoraphobia,  Fear of open spaces or of being in public places. Fear of leaving a                    safe place
	Agrap stole my feelings 
	He caught me unaware
	I am now afraid of sex 
	don’t ask me anymore
	It frightens me that’s for sure
	
	Agraphobia – fear of sexual abuse

	Agrizoo an angry gorilla I knew
	Wild as hell was kept in a cell
	As all his kind, even a timid Hind
	They scare the crap out of me
	Please let them run free

	Agrizoophobia – fear of wild animals

	A gyro is just what I need
	I will fit it to my trusty stead
	He will fly straight across that band
	A tarmac nasty throughout the land
	I cannot face the walk you see
	Agyrophobia –fear of crossing the road

	Aichmohe got in a hell of a fight
	They killed him with a pointed knife
	It will come for me just you see
	I cannot even mend his cloth
	Won’t  touch a needle at any cost
	
	Aichmophobia – fear of sharp or pointed objects (such as a needle or knife)
	

	Ailuro he lived next door 
	The bastard sits on the fence
	To me he snarls not a purr
	A Persian he is supposed to be
	Frightens the *****out of me
	
	Ailurophobia – fear of cats
	
	Algo, Away, I am pain free
	This morphine is the best
	First day of pain free rest
	Been told that it will return
	Got some gas, peace I yearn
	
	
	Algophobia - fear of pain

	Andro I’d rather be               (android)
	I am metal and plastic you see
	Electric person not man or woman
	That would be so sad
	If just a man I would go mad

	Androphobia – fear of men

	Antho the pologist got the plan
	He put concrete throughout the land.
	Not one shrub or flower seen
	Not one blade of grass green
	A flower would make me scream

	Anthophobia – fear of flowers


	Anthropo was a lonely man
	Wouldn’t mix with others so
	He lived in a cave, well just a hole
	You would see his eyes peeping out
	A shaking frame if people were about
	
	Anthropophobia – fear of people or the company of people, a form of social phobia.

	Aqua marine or even the wet stuff
	Is enough to drive me mad
	I stay in when there is rain
	Just wait for the sun to shine again
	A damp tissue that’s quite enough

	Aquaphobia – fear of water. Distinct from Hydrophobia, a scientific property that makes chemicals averse to interaction with water, as well as an archaic name for rabies

	Arach no, and know the score
	Those creepy creatures on the wall
	Send shivers up and down my spine
	Six legs and venom to drive you mad
	I am running already it is sad.

	Arachnophobia – fear of spiders


	Astra my name you would think of the stars
	My gaze goes up but not that far
	To the first cloud there in the sky
	If it’s the shape of an anvil I will fly 
	Fear grips me and I don’t know why
	
	Astraphobia – fear of thunder and lightning
	Atychi that was about the size of me
	The others would just make fun
	I was no good to anyone
	A failure of the first degree
	Nothing my goal, was all I could see
	
	Atychiphobia – fear of failure

	Auto matic I will seek people out
	To touch to play as long as they are near
	Don’t leave me in this place alone 
        A singularity is my biggest fear
	I will hold anyone you see I care

	Autophobia – fear of being alone or isolated
	
	Automat o no it’s not true how could you
	An advert that’s telling just lies
	Don’t all the others realize
	What you say is not true, put it right 
	It will drive me crazy I’ll keep out of sight
	
	Automatonophobia – fear of anything that falsely represents a sentient being

	Aviat o if you think I am going in that
	No I am not a scared ***** cat
	If we were meant to go fly
	Wings we would have from him on high
	Fold your machine and put it just so.
	
	Aviophobia, Aviatophobia – fear of flying
	
	
	
	
	Chaeto he was a Greek of old
	Bald as a badger so the story is told
	But why you say is there no cure 
	For him to grow some lovely hair
	For him it would give such a scare

	Chaetophobia – fear of hair

	Chemo therapy keep away from me
	Chemicals scare me I know they are free
	But to have them coursing through my veins
	No matter how good they are, and that jar
	The fear of everything for what they are 

	Chemophobia – fear of chemicals

	Chirop to or not too so I am told
	They stick in your hair best to be bald
	Now I find that my nails are made of hair
	Chirop is what I fear not chiropodist is that clear!!
	Just shave my head and cut my nails dear

	
	Chiroptophobia – fear of bats

	Chromo shines bright in my eyes
	The fear of all colours  I realise
	Now I am safe from a troubled day
	Into my dark room, I have found my way
	Knock when that sun has met its demise

	Chromophobia - fear of bright colors


Long poem by Carrie Richards | Details |

Red Tulips

Under a tree of wet blossoms, shimmering to life in the sun, one honey bee is circling around two burly men, who wave it off,  with childlike dramatics...arms flailing.   One of them, wearing heavy leather boots, leaves his deep imprints in the grass, still wet from yesterday's storm.  I wince, as the toe of his left boot squashes a purple pansy that is growing along the border. Oh dear, her prized flowers,....they are like her babies!  She has always had the greenest, thumb..and the prettiest yard on the block!
                                             
a white blossom                         rush hour traffic...              a crushed pansy
lands on her shoulder....          bees circle the tree            still beautiful in my palm...
a goodbye gesture                     droning with noise              lines in her face

 Both men seem irritated, and anxious to get on the road, as they stand next to the giant truck, which is parked against the curb. The shorter man, nurtures a butt of a cigarette between gloved fingers with such intensity, it's as if he were sentenced to be hanged at noon, and this was a final puff.  He inhales deeply, then, after a careless toss of the stub,  they both climb aboard, into the cab, and squeeze their husky frames into the cab, like two coiled Slinkys , ready to spring into action.   They start up the engine, and trails of cigarette smoke are left to mingle with cloud-white petals, that drift from the tree.

smoke spirals up         from a spent cigarette......    truck coughs black exhaust

two nosy neighbors     watch from dark windows.... crows gather on grapevine

The moving van,... a huge, battered dinosaur, wearing a big red proclamation, "TWO BROTHERS-VAN AND STORAGE",...  looks so out of place, parked along my street. I begin to feel it vibrate the sidewalk and it deafens our ears.  Slowly, it begins to roll, and we watch, as it lazily, lumbers down the familiar street.  It turns the corner, and disappears out of sight. I lean over to grab her hand, and she is crying  
and I find myself breaking the promise not to.

muddy truck tires....                                                                     
parallel stripes                      
follow from behind                   

I suppose it shouldn't matter to me now, but can't resist, and lean down to pick up the discarded, lifeless cigarette butt, and walk it over next door, to the trash can,  that still waits for Thursday's pick-up.  I blow my nose and dry my eyes.  It won't help her, if she sees me fall apart.

I remember the day she moved in, over twenty years ago.  
We were strangers then, ...but sisters we became.
Now it seems all those years are packaged up inside those cardboard boxes, wrapped in newsprint, taped shut, now moving on to another state,  to somewhere I don't belong.
Her husband gently clears his throat, as he patiently waits by their car,  giving her one last moment.
Her eyes glisten with tears.  Mine sting too...but I had promised I wouldn't cry...so I am biting my bottom lip. A quick hug..   "Yes...we'll write...we'll visit...we'll call!   
Soon!   I promise,.........soon!"
She hands me a box of tulip bulbs.  "These are the red ones... the ones you loved so much, something to remember me by."...  I want to plant some in the new place, but have been saving some for you too"...
"Next year when they bloom, think of me, will you? A part of me to keep you company."
She walks to her packed car, turns once more with that familiar smile, the same little wave, that she gave me on that very first morning, as she stood at her mailbox.  She jumps in next to her waiting husband. He starts the engine, and soon their car is heading down the street, that is no longer her street. Around the turn at the corner, that is no longer her corner
    Tomorrow the SOLD sign comes down.  
Perhaps a new wave, another smile, someone gathering mail ...will brighten my day.          
But today, .....I will plant some tulips.

my garden awakes                                         coffee brings comfort
from muddy slumber....                              sipped from her favorite cup ... 
 lively red tulips                                                 my cat for company




____________________________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: Spring haibun


Long poem by Gina Young | Details |

Mating of the Rich and Famous

I once walked into my backyard
and found two slugs mating in a bucket
I had just learned how slugs go about mating, 
or trust-I would have been rightly confused

Here hangs a long line of slime, almost a foot long
and then halfway down the thread of slime, it begins to twist, to look like a strand of DNA
I am fascinated beyond comprehension
What am I seeing, I mean I KNOW what Im seeing- But WHAT am I seeing??

These two gelatinous creatures, that I admit Ive never given much thought to before
are forming the most intricate, delicate dance of fornication
This is too much for my mind,
and so I just sat and looked on in awe...this lasted for awhile so I unfortunately wasnt there for the seperation.

Now, Im lost in the realm of procreation, its consumed in my head every time I go back and imagine those delicate slugs.

Cats. Big, small, lions, cheetahs, tigers..I believe they all mate the same way. 
A female goes into estrus, and males come rolling in from far and wide. Marking every guidepost along the way, announcing his arrival.
The Lioness lays comfortably in the shade, waiting to be presented her King.
And the brawl ensues. Maybe hours or days. Screaming and slashing, boasting and threatening.
And finally when the lesser males are too worn out, too ashamed, given up, deflated...
The big man with all the prowess grabs his woman with his teeth, mounting her, her resisting..testing if she approves.
They are loud and vicious when they finally get down to it. And persistent.
Days go by, they barely eat, they are barely concious of their surroundings, hormones driving them.
They mate, they rest, they fight, they mate, they rest.
And then its over just like nothing ever happened. And shes left alone to gestate the next generation.

Birds. Birds vary...dogs and cats can be predictable when it comes to making babies.
But birds have different rules. Alot of birds mate for life and are monogomous...better than humans at it too.
Swans are particularly faithful, and heartbroken when their mates die.
There is a type of male bird that will spend hours upon hours building elaborate, beautiful nests,
collecting pretty, colorful things...making a comfortable space to get it on with his lady.
And then the females browse the different nests looking for the perfect living space for a very important event.
Some birds dance, they show off every beautiful move they have to earn the heart and eggs of a woman.
And we all know peacocks. The males are burdened with being beautiful, trying to catch a pretty birds eye. Quite opposite of us peoples, huh?

I could go on...but just a few more points on procreation.
Penguins, males keeping the eggs, almost starving to death to make sure they hatch.
Crocodiles burying their eggs just offshore, and just waiting to take out predators looking for yummy croc eggs.
Octopi will do some craziness where the female starves herself to death to make sure her young hatch alive.
Male seahorses defying everything we know about life, carry the babies....if they can, why...??
Orcas will nurse for up to 5 years, even after another calf has been born. The females never leave the family.
Female hyenas have a 7 inch clitoris which they give birth out of, Im grateful to not be a hyena.
The strongest, largest shark in the womb will cannibalize its siblings. Survival of the fittest.

So now Humans.
We have hormones like all the other animals, we act on them, we procreate.
But its almost as if we do this slyly. Not everyone obviously-not aimed at people fighting to have a child.
We say were making love, connecting, feeling. But how much is truly lust, hormones and instinct?
We have similarities of all animals in our mating rituals, whether babies are in mind or not.
Men act tough, or try to look so slick. Women flirt and dance and wear bright shiny objects, like shes trying to lure a magpie not a partner.
And we have our fights, we get vicious and physical, we fight and we penetrate, fight and penetrate. 
And then almost always someone walks away.

I always come back to the slugs.
Where there seems to be no pretension, no need for competition.
I could be so completly wrong about so many things.
But those slugs just seem to be doing something right.


Long poem by Richard Lamoureux | Details |

Road Trip

Time for a road trip, my  dad, mom and us three kids all packed into our old station wagon. I guess it wasn't so old but it sure seemed that way at the time. We had 458 miles to drive on our trip from Virginiatown Ontario to Kitchener Ontario. For those of you who are not familiar that is a province in Canada. We were off to visit my grandpa and grandma on my mothers side. This is the first trip that I can remember. Excitement coursed through my little body.

It's strange the things that stand out in my memory from 46 years ago. My mom and dad were much slimmer back then. Mom had wavey black shoulder length hair and wore those cat eye glasses from the fifties. I always thought she was so pretty in a plain and simple way. Dad wore dark jeans rolled up at the bottom and had a matching jean jacket. He always had a certain swag and wore his belt buckle to the right side of his waist. He saw himself as an innovator. I also remember the cap that he liked to wear, to me it looked like a captains cap with the nautical symbol on the front and gold rope just above the black visor.

The trip felt like it took forever, we did our best to amuse ourselves in the back seat. We played licence plate bingo and sang songs until the sound of our voices was too much for dad to take and he told us to be quiet. The radio rarely played more than static and Dad turned it off until we came to the next town.  I pressed my face up against the window and let it be cooled by the glass. I was prone to motion sickness and this made the trip feel excruciatingly long. We would stop occasionaly at a roadside park to use the rest facilities and have a snack. I was relieved to have these short breaks and quickly began to feel normal again.

As it became darker my parents layed out blankets and pillows in the back of the station wagon. The three of us kids were tucked in and we continued driving through the night. I fell asleep with the sound of the tires turning on the asphalt. We arrived in Kitchener in the early morning. Kitchener was quite a bit different than Virginiatown, our small town of 300 people. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the morning I was struck by how cool everything looked. I had been familiar to the rugged terrain of the north, mining towns with simple main streets and a restaurant, barbershop and perhaps a theatre.  In Kitchener everything looked so big, department stores, more than one theatre, numerous restaurants and several banks lined the main Street. The buildings also looked so much higher. The downtown seemed to stretch on forever. We drove to Victoria park and had a picnic breakfast. On the way to the park we passed stately homes on tree lined streets. There were beautiful leafy poplar and oak trees spreading their branches over the road. They provided an interesting contrast to the pine trees that dominated the northern landscape. Victoria park had beautiful expanses of grass and more leafy old trees with exquisite bark. I watched as squirrels  played running back and forth between the trees. The squirrels easily ran up the tree trunks into the branches; it was like a manic game of tag. I was also enthralled with the huge wooden gazebo, it was very ornate. The floor was raised and made out of wide planks, it had a white painted railing and was covered with a brown shake roof. I imagined what it would be like to make this magical place my home.

Once our parents freshened up it was time to go to our Grandparents farm. I quickly forgot about my magical home as we piled in the car. Their home was located just outside Kitchener near a small town called Roseville. After about 20 minutes we were driving in the country, expanses of open land filled with corn and wheat.there were very few trees except a few out in the fields. As we drove down the country road dust flew up behind the car obscuring the path from which we came. Finally the car slowed and we pulled up to a long rectangular gate. My mom got out of the car and opened it, my dad drove down a dip and through the gate,  granddpa and grandma must have heard the engine and they came out to greet us. Grandpa had a sparkle in his eye and I knew this was going to be special place.









Long poem by Stephen Kilmer | Details |

The Job - part 4

By 9:00PM I was ready to go.  Dark pants, shirt, shoes, and watch cap.  The classic night on the town combo setup for a not so hip killer.   But these days you could get away with it because gothic was a style.  I didn’t bring my girl with me.  I never kill on the first reconnaissance.  I did pack a knife and 32MM Walthers just encase things got dicey.  I took my time and slowly slipped up into the hills, no need to get pulled over by LAPD.   As I closed in on the house I turned off the lights and the engine and glided to within 50 yards of the target.  The upstairs lights were still on and I could see one or two shadows moving around.  I would have to get closer.  I figured I would give it about an hour after lights out and break in and get a lay out of the house and see who was there.  It was dangerous but I had done it before and learned that moving slow was the key.
  
Lights went out at 11:30 PM on the nose.  A man of habit I liked that in a mark.  I smoked and waited another hour and then slipped out of the car and moved quickly toward the house.  I went over the back fence and stopped and waited.  No dog.  Even better.   Staying in the shadows I moved to the backdoor and picked the lock.  Once inside I settled down for a few minutes to get my bearings and listen to the sounds of the house.  It is very important to know how the house sounds, how it breathes, moves, and lives before you start to move around in it.  It can give you away in heartbeat.  I calmed my breathing and started moving slowly through the kitchen.  I could smell fish and vinaigrette.  Some one had been eating healthy.  A bottle of wine was corked on the island.  The dishes were put up and everything appeared spotless.  Either there was a woman in the house or this guy was gay.  I settled for the former and not the latter.  There was definitely someone else in the house.  A familiar scent caught my attention and then faded away.  I needed to be careful.  Something wasn’t right about it this hit. Once through the kitchen I made my way to the master bedroom, which would no doubt hold, my victim.  He was asleep with a CPAP machine by the bedside and a mask over his face.  Apparently he had sleep apnea, which means he was probably taking Ambien and a combination of other sleep drugs.  I crept over to his bed stand and slowly took his medication bottles to see what he was taking.  I was right.  He was sleeping with the prince Ambien.  He was out like a log.  And even if he did wake he wouldn’t remember a thing.  Suddenly I heard footsteps upstairs.  I lay flat on the floor and froze.  Within a few minutes I heard the toilet flush.  He definitely had a friend.  Time to chill and then go upstairs.  I didn’t want to have to kill two people but sometimes it is necessary.

I don’t know how long I lay there on the floor but it seemed like an eternity.  I checked my watch and it had been 30 minutes.  Time to move upstairs.  Stairs can be tricky because they always creek and groan.  I have found that quickly but lightly moving up them causes the least amount of problems.  I was on the second floor in a matter of seconds.  Again I smelled a familiar odor.  What was it?  It seemed so familiar.  There were three doors in the hallway one closed and the two open.  I assumed the other person was behind the closed door.  I quickly checked the other two rooms and nothing.  A bathroom and a spare bedroom turned into  a study.  With the patience of a cat  I slowly tested the knob on the third door, it opened without any resistance.  I slowly pushed it open and stayed close to the floor.  I could hear gently breathing in a slow rhythmic pattern.  From the sound and the aroma I could tell it was a woman.  I was beginning to think I new this woman.  As I got closer I realized it was Anna.  I hadn’t put it together the last name of Collins but there it was, right in front of me.  I pulled up a chair and watched her breathing.  All I could hear was her and the clock ticking out the seconds.  Time seemed to stand to still.  I had a problem.  I needed to think. 


Long poem by Poetryof Providence | Details |

EXISTENCE

All that does encompass bespeaks wonder in everything
bubbling brooks and waterfalls does your glory ring
terrestrial and celestial ever fill our eyes with seeing
how can not it's splendor not fill our very being
 
raindrops in waters with their rippling wake
and mesmerize our souls does the rushing make
gentle breezes lifting dappled leaves in dance
and some say it all came about by chance
 
How does this effusion elude a single man
when everywhere one turns it's radiance does stand
Nebula and quasar adorns a cloaking sky
and some choose to call the truth a lie
 
How lofty and profound in it's depth designed
everywhere one turns does God's eminence remind
lavender and magenta do our roses wear
magnificent in color in tended gardens care
 
In florescent rainbows are a peacocks feathers
multi patterned flowers among the blooming heathers
many hues of blue stretch across the sky
changing shades of azure of the seas close by
 
In Africa's dense jungle ring tailed lemurs leap
Asia's tarsier in the day does sleep
the giant and red panda in bamboo forests eat
meerkats make their manor underground to keep
 
Springbok and Okapi migrate within the land
camels and dromedary travel in the sand
kingfishers underwater dives yet he cannot swim
the hoopoe within Europe summers on a limb
 
Golden plovers and sandpipers do the beaches run
in every nation some great cat naps beneath the sun
the ruby topaz hummingbird and bird of paradise
the chameleon changes turf and puts on his disguise
 
Through filtered teeth of whales krill don't stand a chance
and so many speculate it's all just circumstance
At the poles do penguins nest upon the ice
beneath the oceans surface unnamed fish do slice
 
Everywhere in universe within it's laws do move
meticulous and intricate does creation prove
change the axis of the earth and life would not exist
no missing links have been found and yet the lie persist
 
The precision of it's interface keeps universe intact
so cohesive is the pattern in every little fact
why is mans reason out of line with the universe
turned his mind away from God just before the curse
 
To his change the animals haven't been unblind
fear of man and his hand knowing he's not kind
mankind lost respect for law and for himself
focus is on surface and not aware of Satan's stealth
 
Melodious is the speech of birds outside of our homes
the cacophony of nature with it's many tones
explosive is the energy if the atoms split
the power to enclose it will so few admit
 
Mankind's exploration isn't nearly done
infinity a subject for learning yet to come
we've barely scratched the surface of mathematics sum
to it's fascination have so many become numb
 
To winds and tides of doctrines do so many move
who will ask the questions and arguments so prove
the laws that governs universe are so well defined
but the souls that live on earth are of double mind
 
God has stretched the heavens with a movement of his hand
futility against his knowledge cannot a man to stand
wisdom she does cry and her voice puts forth
to examine natural things and upon your course
 
Listen not to instruction upon whose path you err
take away it will the life you hope to share
Life itself is precious do not you throw away
if you follow fallen man away from life you'll stray
 
The cry of the cricket do you understand
there is speech in everything that lives within the land
do you think a crocodile you will ever tame
and things undiscovered we have yet to name
 
How little understanding exists within man's mind
to exult himself against God's knowledge is he blind
before Jah's understanding mankind's is so weak
why from another man should you your answers seek
 
Bow your will before him lift your voice in praise
take in his instruction if want you length of days
Consider what you are and what you may become
in beginning were created just like God's own Son
 
sources Psalms and Proverbs and Ecclesiastes
 
COPYRIGHT © 2009 Duboff Law Group LLC


Long Poems