Long poem by
Brian Johnston | Details |
- - Chapter 2: Adult Responsibility (With Some Breaks) - -
By ten years old, no weekends off,
Or Saturday cartoons,
Although I did have cash to spend,
I felt my life in ruins.
I dusted cars in my dad's store,
And cleaned its toilets too,
I fixed truck tires as I got old,
Not much I couldn't do.
A trip to two month summer camp,
I learned to shoot and sail,
At twelve years old, a pioneer,
Canoed explorer's trail.
Near tragedy on my return,
My sister paralyzed,
A late victim of polio,
My conscience brutalized.
Felt guilty leaving her alone,
While I frolicked and played,
Brotherly love had been displaced,
Her protection was waylaid.
The washers, dryers, I repaired,
And freezers with no chill,
Then televisions came along,
Tube testing my new skill.
Assembling new farm implements,
And posting parts on hand,
My driver's license opened doors,
‘Collected bills' firsthand.
On Sundays we would go to church,
To hear the preacher tell,
Because my dad was not with us,
His soul would burn in Hell.
Dad's Channelled Poem-
[‘It's bad news when a preacher comes.
They all want stuff for free.
I have to feed my children too,
I've problems they don't see.']
Three years of summer music camps,
In Junior High reborn,
I played piano in dance bands,
Took lessons on French Horn.
My French Horn teacher laughed out loud
When I walked through the door,
‘Your lips too thick, please stick out tongue, '
Now rolling on the floor!
‘To take your money is a crime, '
The German said to me,
‘You've no high notes, ' ‘I know' I said,
‘Mom loves French Horn you see.'
Most summers were our busy time,
We all worked hard till dusk,
My ‘tail rung through a ringer, ' (1) la, *
The time for ‘smart mouth' (2) brusque.
But then the job that I loved best,
Flat tractor tires in field,
A chance to meet a farmer's girl,
The country's charm revealed.
One summer worked a cattle herd,
Two thousand cows were planned,
By cutting, wind-rowing (3) the grass,
Soon haystacks dotted land.
Dakota winters could be fierce,
The temp forty below,
The stacks were shelter from the wind,
A shield from blinding snow.
We'd use a horse for round-up, la! *
My God that was a thrill,
Except for blisters on your ass,
Or when you took a spill.
I had not ridden horses much,
You're so far from the ground,
The horse not knowing you from spit, (4)
Disdain can be profound! '
There was no time for niceties,
And work to do, ‘C'MON! '
If horse and you somehow part ways,
No choice, you climb back on.
Our ranch was all on ‘Indian Res., ' (5)
By river loop enclosed,
In South Dakota's Lower Brule, (6)
A twelve year lease proposed.
Land acres more that twenty thou.
Covered by native grass,
A chance like this was very rare,
My father could not pass.
The river's edge a solid fence,
No barbed wire to maintain.
The nearest town two hours by road,
Our days were mostly work and sleep,
With meals our only break,
Except for weekend groc'ry trips,
No chance for love's heartache.
Till I discovered farmer's girl,
Who lived half way to town,
Contrived a way to go to church,
When Sunday's call came down.
The church's name not one I knew,
The people all seemed nice,
To escape Sunday's usual fare
Was worth most any price.
Played music we could sing,
The pastor beat foot-pedalled drum,
We made the rafters ring!
I told myself, ‘there's something strange,
The music's gone too long, '
Emotion peaking and yet I
Somehow did not belong.
With music's end the sermon broke,
The world's sure end was near,
Time now to sanctify all sin,
‘Repent now! God's word hear.'
For God's quite mad, this cannot stand,
No doubt that it is prov'n
Those rockets from Canaveral
Are shooting holes in Heav'n.
I was in shock, glued to my seat,
The flock their garments rent,
And I the last one in his seat,
No sin did I lament!
At last not knowing what to do,
I left and went outside,
And knew whatever happened now,
I hadn't found my bride.
August 20, 2014
* When I was in the American Peace Corps in Tanzania, East Africa we had a group of 7
surveying assistants that were always with us in the first year and that we became very
close to. Their conversation was always sprinkled with 'la' and I thought it was kind of
cute. Like they might say to me, 'Why don't we stop in this village for some food, la.'
They used this word kind of like I use the word ‘OK' in casual conversation. 'You've got
food in your teeth, la.' I really enjoyed this idiosyncratic affectation.
(1) 'tail rung through the ringer' - Early washing machines did not have a 'spin cycle.' So
to get the excess water out of your clothing you would ring out the water from each item
of clothing first before hanging it on a clothes line to dry completely in the sun. So the
phrase 'tail rung through the ringer' means that you are all out of energy, and very tired.
The energy has been squeezed out of you by your job like water rung out of newly
(2) 'smart mouth' Someone who likes to talk back to authorities, or who just complains all
(3) 'wind-rowing' - To rake newly cut grass into long rows called 'wind-rows' that could be
more easily picked up and bailed then by yet another machine.
(4) 'not knowing someone from spit' - To have no respect for the person at all.
(5) ‘Indian Res’ – Land that Indian’s were given official title to by the American
government in an attempt to placate and domesticate them.
(6) ‘Lower Brule’ – A huge tract of Indian Land contained in a large meander of the
Missouri River. Although the mouth of this loop is only one mile wide, to get from one side
of the meander by river is over 28 miles. Lower Brule is owned by the Cherokee Indian
Long poem by
Mario DE PAZ | Details |
So bridge to bridge, of other things speaking
Of which my comedy does not take care,
We walked; and reached the top, when seeking
For watching the next slit, then we stopped there
Malebolge to see and crying vain;
And I saw it strikingly with no glare.
As the Venician dockyard attain
On winter boiling the tenacious pitch
To caulk their worn out wooden boats again,
Since these can’t navigate – differ by which
Has been renewed in wood and oakum has
In panels after trips with fixing rich;
Or who cares the prow, who the poop whereas
Someone oars builds, other wraps shrouds around;
Who mizzen and main sails mends as well as -:
So, not by fire but by divine bound,
Was boiling there down a quite thick mud,
Which soiled the bank everywhere on round.
I could see it, but in I saw no dud
Else than bubbles which for the boil came out,
And all swell, and deflate as a tide flood.
While there down my eyes tried closely to scout
My guide, telling “Look at there, look at there!”,
Pulled me to himself from my place of stake-out.
Then I moved as man who acts to late bear
To see events which avoid is better
And who is strongly undermined by scare,
But, when he sees, to escape can’t fetter:
And I saw a devil black behind us
Running up the rock faster than ever.
Ouch how his aspect seemed to be vicious!
And how ruthless appeared his act to be,
With open wings and so light on feet thus!
His shoulders, which were superb as was he,
With both his hips encumbered a damned then,
And he of feet held muscles with no plea.
From far he shouted: “Malebranche again
This one of Saint Zita’s elders I throw!
Submerge him, since I go back to catch men
In that land where they much abundant grow:
But Bonturo, all barterers are there;
To yes, for money, they transform a no”.
Down he threw him, and on the hard rock bare
Turned round; and mastiff loosened was never
In so much hurry a thief to ensnare.
That dived, emerging upset however;
But devils who of the bridge had the top,
Screamed: “Here Holy Face can’t endeavor!
Here swimming like in Serchio is a flop!
But, if you do not want the bites of ours
Have care for any emergence to stop”
Then beat him with many whips and bars,
Told: “For you is better that covered dance
So that, if you can, to steal empowers.
Not different from cooks who so enhance
Their aides in middle of caldron to dip
Meat with hooks, to avoid floatage advance.
The good master “In order that you skip
That you are here”, told, “you must crouch low
After a stone, so a screen you can grip;
And for offense to me any could throw,
Don't be afraid, already I learned,
Since the last time spent here I could know”.
Then he surpassed the bridge quite unconcerned;
And when he had arrived at the sixth bank,
Important was that all fear he had spurned.
With the same fury and with the same swank
Dogs come out against a coming poor man
Who help asks at once when he fears be yank,
Those so came out behind the bridge and ran,
Against him then directing their claws all;
But he shouted: “None of yours do harm can!
Before your hook could my body appall
Should one of yours come forward now and hear,
And then the clawing me should not befall”.
All screamed: “Malacoda must go, it’s clear!”,
So one then moved on – and the others stood –
And came close telling: “Why are you here?”
“Do you think, Malacoda, that I could
Show me when here”, my master replied,
If I had not to your attacks screen good,
Without divine will and lucky fate guide?
Allow us go, since is in heaven set
That I show to other this savage side”.
At this his pride was so hardly unset,
That he let the hook to fall to his feet,
And told the others: “with no hurt we let”.
And then my duke to me: “Oh you that seat
Well crouched down here between the bridge stones
Safely now with me can the way complete”.
By which I moved to him fast to unknowns;
And devils came on forward then them all,
So I feared the treaty fault in my bones;
Same way I saw the soldiers, I recall,
Come out from Caprona after the pact,
Seeing many enemies to appall.
I got me close with all my body packed
To my duke, the eyes well fixed with no turn
Toward their appearance making me racked.
They moved down their hooks and then “His back stern”,
Telling each other, “we ought to touch?”,
And answered: “Yes, I would do, no concern”.
But the devil who spoke that way such
Before with my duke, turned back very fast
And told: “Scarmiglione, to stop you must clutch!”.
Then told us: “Beyond you cannot go past
This rock, because it is completely gone
Just to the bottom the sixth arc at last.
And if going on you like as was drawn,
You now should go just up this cavern through;
Nearby you find a rock with new way dawn.
Yesterday, five hours more among now flew,
Twelve hundred and sixty six years ago
This way was broken while before was true.
To that end I send of my guys a row
To inspect if someone from pitch gets out;
Go with them, no bad behavior will show”.
Alichino, and Calcabrine come about”,
He started, “and Cagnazzo also you;
And Barbariccia will drive all-out.
Libicocco and Draghignazzo come through
Graffiacane and Ciriatto fanged hard
And Farfarello and Rubicante mad too.
Around the boiling lime you have to guard;
These ones must be safe until the next rock
Which as a whole over stands the sinners yard”
“Ouch, master, what is I see to unlock?”,
I told, “I pray, with no escort let go,
If you know how, I prefer alone walk.
If you are wise as normally I saw,
Do not you see that their teeth harshly gnash
And with their lashes bad intention show?.
And he to me: “I want you don’t abash;
Let them to gnash as much as they are sod,
Because they do so for the sores who splash”.
They turned along the left embankment odd;
But each first had his tongue to strict pass
Between teeth, toward their duke, as nod
And he had done loud trumpet of his ass.
Long poem by
Allyssa Pate | Details |
I fall down
deeper and deeper
the sounds of evil
dripping into my ears
and sliding down into me
filling me with echoes.
terror courses through
into each cell
turning them against
they are no longer mine
they follow another
a stronger being.
icy breezes come
they whisper to me
they say I'm bad
they call me to them
the breezes dance
hiding me from the light
shielding me from hope.
my eyes are taunted
I see people
the ones I know
they are hurt
I have betrayed them
I am hurting them
it is me
but I can't stop.
my mind is plagued
comes a new terror
a cruel joke
all a prank.
only deeper do I fall
light is disappearing
all a game
for one person
the man in the
the one who is running the show
the show that is me.
he sees me falling
I can't see him
but he is there
teasing my brain
taunting my senses
he hates me
he wants to hurt me.
he throws it
I feel the pain
running up my leg
showing my bones
releasing my blood
it is blue
my blood is cold
it splatters my face
sprinkling my features
dotting them with blue
the blue liquid drips
jumping onto my tongue
I taste dirt
my blood is dirt
blue is all I see
blue is all I become
I am blue
blue is me.
a distant shout
who is it?
a cry for help
the sound is mangled
the sound is mine
I shut my mouth
but I still hear it
chilling my blue blood
ringing in my ears
shaking my breathing
jump-starting my heart
then it's over
the scream has ceased
and silence returns
sounding more deadly than ever before.
only black do I see
the monsters' playground
the demons' joyride
and someone is hungry
it wants me
it wants to take it
it feeds on people
people like me.
objects hitting me
ghosts' fingers prodding me
as I fall
I fall down
down into this never-ending hole
filled with misery
my worst fears
how did he know?
he knows I'm afraid
doesn't help me see
I can't see why
how does he do this?
they cut me again
spilling my blood
oh, the blue
I don't even feel it
I am numb
the sound of me
a quick slashing
and they are done
I am cut
I can't see my blood
but I can see how evil it must look.
the thoughts that fell
fell down with me
they talk to me
they tell me what they see
they can see
my cold blood
it is everywhere
I am pale
I look sick they say
they see the bottom
I fall faster still
slowing for nothing
for no one
being pulled down
the puppeteer has me
he's got my string
and he's pulling
with no sign of letting go.
now I hear a song
they all sing it
the notes are cruel
they bump into the others
struggling to be heard
with no set order
it is musical chaos
he yells to me
it is beautiful
and he sings along to his song
it's made for me
musical notes are played
they come up to me
they greet me
right into my cuts
surging into my blood
they search inside me
keeping them steady
picking up tempo
they found it
the music does the talking
it says to hush
my heart listens
and I get sleepy
the music is evil
played by the man
the man in the mask
my brains sends
one final request
it says to my heart
speed up, can't you see?
she is dying
you must speed up!
I still fall
with no way up
letting go of hope
dreaming of being saved
when I already know
I'll only be dropped.
I know what
it is flesh
but belongs to someone else
they smell of dirt
they are nothing to me
they are the stench
in my nose
the smell overcomes all
all the other senses
until it becomes me
and I burn too.
even in the dark
I see something
blacker than black
they are shadows
they mock me
I fill with evil
a longing to hurt
hurt the ones behind it all
I hear him
is his pleasure
oh so dark
I'm at the bottom
laying on the cold ground
in a small ball
too weak to stand
in a pool
of dark blue blood
I hold myself tight
I can't trust
he likes my weakness
he tells me I am small
I am ugly
I am worthless
I am nothing
he laughs when I cry
I thought that
it would be better
instead of up there.
hell is not a game.
death is not an
easy way out.
do not try to visit me.
do not try to rescue me.
for I am more lost
than I hope you will
now that I am
at my fate
at the entrance to hell
at the bottom of this grave
of my eternity
and if I am truly
I'll have plenty of time
to ask myself
why did I jump?
Long poem by
Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |
A GIFT FOR EVERYONE
The Mulberry Tree & its Birds
Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years ago. Use the following URL :
When Bulbul* was warbling
On its branches
A strange big bird with round beak
Came over there
To eat Mulberry’s sweet fruits
The bird was expert
In changing its colors
Like the colorful sky
But like some arrogant child
She could not make anyone
It’s friend on the Mulberry tree.
By the time
Anyone could have spotted its beauty
It suddenly changed its colors
And became invisible,
While hiding behind the leafs
And the branches of the Mulberry
Alone the bird came over there
And alone she flew away
Without any friend
For some other tree. 10
The sparrows began to chirp
Watching a Koyal* sitting
Somewhere very close to them
On a nearby branch of a tree.
But, strangely, for all of them
A Neelkanth* also
Came over there
And opened before them
Its beautiful blue color wings.
From where the Neelkanth came
And for what destination,
It would leave no one knows.
Before the eyes
Could have feasted fully
All that, beauties of the Birds
And the beauty,
All around, the Mulberry tree
A Yellow Green bird
Came to drink,
Water filled in a Pot
Which was lying on my terrace,
Not very far off
From the Mulberry tree. 11
In those moments
It seemed to me,
As if, someone has opened
Of precious, colorful birds
For the tree. 12
Used to play often
Of flapping sound,
Of its leafs
Whenever, the wind blows
With, its strengths,
While, touching the leafs
And shaking its branches
While saying slowly
In the ears of the Mulberry
“Dear Shahtoot –
Create Music in the air”
So that, we may dance together
On the tunes of the wind. 13
And then the Mulberry
Began to show
Its beautiful dance
On the tunes
Of the fast blowing winds
And watching that dancing beauty
Of the Mulberry tree
And the beauty
Of its dancing leafs,
Often used to get filled
With an unknown
Happiness and joy
The dance of the Mulberry tree
Causes fear in birds
And then they began to make
Loud noises like crying
To show their fear and anger. 14
But, when they were happy
The birds began, to chirp loudly
They were greeting, the Mulberry
For such a wonderful dance
and music. 15
I used to get astonished and lost
Such an excellent beauty
And grandeur of Nature
Which, always reminds me
My relations with you,
O’ Shahtoot, which is as old,
As are the days, of my childhood
When we used to play
On the lower branches, of your tree
And my childhood friends
Used to come like birds
Searching the chalk lines
Made by me, on your branches
And cutting them
To tell that they have found
The treasure, hidden by me. 16
But, I always feel sad
O’ my dear friend, Shahtoot
That I could not save you
From those onslaughts
Due to which
You just vanished,
Suddenly one day
For ever and forever. 17
Now, that place
Where, the Mulberry used to smile
Every Morning and every day
Hardly get any birds
To listen to, the melodies of Koyal*
And the chirping sound
And music of
Bulbul* and of the sparrows.
Even our, kids and children
Hardly get, any opportunity
To see now colorful birds
Flying and sitting
On a branch of tree.
They almost never see
The Neelkanth* flying in the air
While showing, it’s gorgeous
Beautiful blue wings
To tell the story of its birth
O’ my dear friend
This Poem on you,
O’ my friend ‘Shahtoot’
Would make you immortal
Because, now you would live
In the hearts of everyone
And you would bloom
On the mind and hearts
Of little kids and children
Who would plant more and more
So that colorful birds may
Keep coming on their trees
And they may enjoy
The beauty of Nature which lies
In Plants, Trees, Birds
Such efforts of the
Of kids and children
Would make you immortal
For ever and forever
When they would listen to
This story of yours
And of the singing birds
Which always come
On your trees
In the season of Mulberry. 19
Kanpur India 10th November 2013
NOTE: Protected under the copyright
provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights.
*Bulbul=A sweet singing Bird of India
*Koyal= A melody Bird of India
Shahtoot= The Hindi name of Mulberry tree and its fruits
*Kilkil Kaantaa= Kilkil Kaantaa* A child game of India in which,one player makes some lines by chalk on any such object which can be searched by the other player to cut these lines and win.
In this Poem I have not placed only a small part of this unique story which would be the real attractions of my Video based on this unique story.Hope you would like that full wonderful story of my Video as and when it would be placed on my You Tube Channel. Love and best wishes..Ravindra K Kapoor
Long poem by
J. W. M. Earnings | Details |
Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California right now
Oh paint a delightful smile on my face and make me laugh with joy and happiness
You’re my ultimate addiction – you lift me higher than cloud seven
I gottah keep pace to run this race the right way…so, I want yah to stay here for a
Alright, you’re making my day…you are like my cherished Haven
Satisfaction is ours, baby…nothing’s in my way today! We’re runnin’ thee extra
Can you see it like fireworks in the sky?
Did you ever wish to be free
Like those mockingbirds and jays in the aqua-blue sky?
You and I will receive the ability to fly
The ability to show off our inner glow…yah know…soooo…
And we’ll be putting up a show…yah know…yah know…let the wicked wind blow…
oooh ahhahah ohhh…
Take away my flaws…my worst fears…my weaknesses
Give me a big applause for trying my best and can you motivate me to beat this
Let go of all worries…my bad memories…replace em with my strengths and clean
up all of our “emotional love” messes
Gather around me, my stinging, beautiful bees…I’ll try to pass the test…and you’ll
do the rest just in case…
I get pleasure off of your applauses…your full attention…give up your aggressive
side and your anger…take out the trash that’s filthy with strife and clean up your
act! We need peace and that’s a fact! You need to give me your surreal
satisfaction…We feel like we’re top dog right now! Who’s boss? We are! Come on,
sistahs and brothahs, let’s BODYQUAKE! Let’s dance! Let’s embrace this terrific,
tranquil trance! I fancy you, baby…don’t hit the brakes…
Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California
Don’t stop, darling – stay with me for a long while! I know – I act silly and
Me: I’m wingless…I’m invisible…
I’m incredible...yet, I can do the impossible
Fighting negativity, so I can be me –
Instead, I invite positivity and kiss sunlit glee
Everyone: You’re a gift, not a curse
You’re a cure – you’re a lullaby in reverse…
Everyone: Rehearse to me our freedom
Rehearse to me our liberty
Rehearse to me your satisfaction
Rehearse to me – we’ll take action! Oooooh yeaaaaah
I was once stuck in the pit of my misery and poverty…He’s my Amazing Grace and
more – his words are tattooed everywhere in my body…
But now I’m free as a bird out of her cave
Beyonce and others: Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California
Don’t stop, darling – stay with me for a long while! Let’s break the law and let’s
shop at the mall
You’re my ultimate addiction – you lift me higher than cloud seven
I gottah keep pace to run this race the right way…you made my day by giving me
the energy and confidence to run the extra mile
Alright, you’re making my day…you are like my cherished Haven
Satisfaction is ours, baby…nothing’s in my way today!
Can you stay here for a while? You sing to me your lullaby with a sugar-and-spice
Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California
Let’s swing about and stand tall when we encounter dangah!
Fight with all of your might and be proud that we fought the good fight! Now,
everything’s black and white and everything’s alright!
You’re *my drug of delight!x3* I promise my love towards you wo’t bite – if it
does, it means I want you and your surreal light as soon as possible, even if it
means going through a perilous plight!
Rihanna/Beyonce (duet): You’re my beloved disease…
You put my heart and mind at ease…
Please…please don’t reject me again
Where have yah been? I see your eyes – chaos and guilt brewin’
Eminem/Rihanna: Sing to me your lullaby with sexy style and a brilliant beat
I’ll dance naughtily – you make me feel neat and my feet are tappin’ and tappin’…I
can’t stop my feet!
I don’t care about California’s heat!
I’m dreamin’ about California and its cheerful, sun-drenched summertime
My time spent with you ain’t a waste of time! You and I’s love is extremely
Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California
Dance with me and go with the flow with em all!
Beyonce: Come here…fly to me…don’t be blue
Rihanna: If you only knew…that I loved you
Lady Gaga: But, I guess I was that bizarre girl that came out of the blue…just b/c
I’m eccentric, doesn’t mean I ain’t wild and epic…
Lady Gaga/Eminem/me: Come along with me…we’ll be on our own
Speechless, but having the time of my life
Making a cherry-top decision – it’s my mission to call you up on my telephone…
*ring ring ring*
There it rings again…you left me breathless – don’t provoke me to anger and
Everyone:For, it cuts me like a sharp, jagged knife…
Rihanna: You won’t see me cry… all my life…
Beyonce: *no more singing* That’s a good ending, girl. Good job. *pat pat*
Me: what’s up with that cool ending, RihRih! That was tight!
Rihanna: Thanks a bill *giggles* I took that from my song “Cry”…I won’t deny it…
Lady Gaga: You’re crazy good, but I like crazy good people like you
Adele: Nevermind I’ll find someone like yoooooou! –
Rihanna: I’m sorry to come across as rude, but who invited Adele?
*everyone points at me and everyone laughs*
Beyonce: Oh my word…I shouldah known..it was silly Davey Wavey!
Me and Rihanna: Uhuh…mhmmm…*we crack up with laughter and can’t keep a
Long poem by
Eileen Manassian | Details |
Where gladiators fought for life,
we meet to fight for love
The constellations in the Roman night sky,
celestial spectators, bathe the Colosseum
in the white blood of light
The night is throbbing with the heat of our battle,
our cries, more passionate than any that have gone before
A short while earlier
A well paid bribe found us in the remains of the Ludus Magnus,
the remains of the old Gladiator School in Rome
where lies buried
a hidden entrance to an underground tunnel
You pull me with you into dark underground world of legend
By light of a flickering torch,
we travel into the entrails of the behemoth,
coming in time upon the holding rooms
My breath catches
I hear the sounds of man and beast
carrying through the thin layers of time:
Slaves, criminals, debtors, all awaiting their fate…
Animals pawing, grunting, starved for food
Dying to kill to stave the gnawing pain
Waiting to be lifted up into the arena
Waiting to fight
Waiting to live or die
We break into the hypogeum
The crispness of the night air stings us
The vastness of it all paralyzes all thought
Rome comes ALIVE
The resurrection of history enflames us,
and as we mount those final stairs up to the arena,
I feel your excitement blazing through me
Your grasp is almost painful in jubilee
“We are here…HERE!” Your voice is laced with the sacred.
Between those famed arches…XIX and XX
You and I all and 50,000 ghost spectators
Here at the East Entrance
The Gate of Life Looms above us
True gladiators passed through these very gates
Here the applause coursed through their veins
And thundered to the captives below…
Here I stand
Quivering with the knowledge of all this night means to me
That thunder reverberates through MY body
I can hardly breathe
Your eyes are looking up at tiered levels
while mine look ahead
There is the walkway connecting the east to west
At the far side is the Libitinarian, the Gate of Death,
through which dead gladiators were dragged,
their bodies dumped in the Spoliarium
to be stripped of clothes and armor
Life and death
Here, they converged
Here, they fought
On this night
I will strip myself of my clothing and armor
I will let down my defenses
and give in to your onslaught of passion
Here… I will die to all but your eyes
I walk, quietly, with purpose
Here….in this place...
my virgin blood will be spilt
Halfway between life and death, I stop
I turn towards you
My voice reaches you on the night wind
“Come to me!”
I see you move towards me
My mighty gladiator
You who have fought my demons
You who have slain my nightmares
You who have held in check
A savage desire for possession
As you stand before me
I wonder if you know
Tonight is the night
You will plunder and ravage
to your heart's delight
your just reward
You find a place to keep the torch upright
You see the blanket I’ve spread on the ground
I answer the question in your eyes
With the curve of my lips
I steady my hands as they work to undress me
I feel my body burn in the warmth of your presence
Your eyes undress me faster than my hands can,
and yet... you are....immovable
You stand transfixed
You wait until my only covering
Is my flowing hair
"Make love to me
Here, now...be my gladiator
Come...claim your prize."
I reach out my hand to you
and in a moment
before my next intake of breath
you've come to life and crush me in your arms
Your mouth claims mine
like never before
your tongue explores
it takes what it will
You pull me in to you
Your hand in my hair,
my breath is raptured by your sheer strength
Your mouth travels along my neck
Hungry….like a famished animal finally set free to feast
You devour as you reach my cleavage
I lean back to let you savor my breasts
For the first time
You’re down on your knees
your tongue encircling my navel
going round and round and dipping inside
This prophetic dance of what is to come
washes over me
as you lower me to the ground
In a moment, I’m looking at the stars
The two brightest ones being your eyes
You are above me
You are everywhere
Kissing tasting touching feeling pleasing
Finding my voice, I pant...
I’m gasping with the effort
of all I need to say...
of the weight of feelings...
raging within me
"Don't...hold back anymore
Your hands reach for mine and pin them down
My breasts heave, my body rocks
as I feel you plunging into the moistness
that your very presence always creates in me
But never...to this luxuriant degree
Pain mixes with pleasure again and again
As I hear your grunt and groan
Your ecstasy comes in manish moan
And I close my eyes to the Roman night sky
To the world
I am reborn in you
I hear your victory cry
And feel your jubilant release inside
They fought for life
We fought for love
My fingers run through your hair
Your head is pillowed on my breast
My heart beat a reminder
Of what you have won
A gladiator’s reward...
in the arms
of the woman
For Justin Bordner’s Contest
Make Love to Me in that Ancient Place
November 16, 2014
Long poem by
Kim van Breda | Details |
OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21
ON 1ST JULY 1990~ THE ANGELS DID SOMETHING ALMIGHTY
FROM HEAVEN THEY SENT US OUR LIFE-LONG DESIRE-A PRECIOUS DAUGHTER TO LOVE AND ADMIRE.
TRUE TO YOUR NATURE YOU ARRIVED WITHOUT FUSS OR PAIN--THE FIRST TIME OUR EYES MET WE KNEW OUR LIVES WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME
AS A BABY AND TODDLER YOU MADE US SO PROUD
YOUR VERY LONG HAIR, GREEN EYES AND SMILE-
ALL THOSE GOOD LOOKS MADE YOU STAND OUT IN A CROWD
YOU STARTED TALKING EARLY WITH MANY VOICEPRINTS
YOUR CHARM AND GOOD LOOKS HAVE NOT STOPPED SINCE
YOU LOVED YOUR DOLLS AND PRAMS-- DREAMT OF BEING A “SINGER”
AND VERY QUICKLY LEARNED HOW TO WRAP YOUR DAD AROUND YOUR LITTLE FINGER
YOUR BIG BROTHER DEVON--BEST FRIEND AND PROTECTER
MOST OF THE TIME YOU GOT ON PERFECTLY TOGETHER
FROM AN EARLY AGE YOU SHOWED YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING
AGE TWO AND A HALF YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING
TO SWIM UNDER WATER AND DO MANY LENGTHS
THIS WAS CLEARLY ONE OF YOUR SPORTING STRENGTHS
AT AGE THREE YOU COULD BARELY WAIT TO START PLAYSCHOOL
“MISS INDEPENDENCE”, WAS YOUR GENERAL RULE
THE SLIDE AND JUNGLE GYM WERE YOUR FAVOURITE SPOTS
AND TO OUR HORROR YOU WOULD CLIMB RIGHT TO THE TOP!
AT AROUND THIS TIME, YOUR FIRST BOYFRIEND YOU MET-
HE LIVED NEXT DOOR, AND HIS NAME WAS BRETT
SOON IT WAS TIME FOR PRE-SCHOOL
YOU LOVED YOUR TEACHER--YOUR NEW FRIENDS WERE COOL
‘SPRING BONNETS’ AND THE END OF YEAR SCHOOL PLAYS
THE TEDDY BEAR CLASS GAVE YOU SOME REAL SPECIAL DAYS
NEXT WAS ‘BIG SCHOOL’ AND YOUR FIRST CLASS
WE WERE SERIOUSLY ANXIOUS BUT FOR YOU JUST ANOTHER ‘MISS INDEPENDENCE’ TASK
LETTERLAND, MATHS AND LEARNING TO READ
YOU EXCELLED AT ALL THAT WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED
YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS CONTINUED THROUGH GRADES 2, 3 AND FOUR
YOUR PLACE IN THE SWIMMING TEAM HELPED YOUR SCHOOL WIN MORE
OUR MOVE TO AUSTRALIA… SAD FAREWELLS TO YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR PETS
BUT, GREAT EXCITEMENT YOU FELT AT ADVENTURES TO BE MET
A NEW SCHOOL--“METHODIST LADIES COLLEGE”
NEW FRIENDS--JUMPING A GRADE-- MET WITH SUCH POSITIVE COURAGE
YOU MADE US SO PROUD IN THE WAY YOU ADAPTED
MRS. WILLIAMSON SAID YOU WERE THEIR NEW CLASS ‘ASSETT’
THE ‘MR BEE’ SPELLING AWARD AND MANY MERITS LATER
WE ALL GOT HOMESICK-- BUT YOUR POSITIVE NATURE DID NOT WAVER
THE DECISION WE MADE TO RETURN TO CAPE TOWN
CAUSED YOU HEARTBROCKEN TEARS AND A PERMANENT FROWN
ONCE AGAIN A SAD FAREWELL TO YOUR NEW FOUND FRIENDS
RETURNING TO S.A. FOR OLD ONES TO MAKE AMMENDS
IT WASN’T VERY LONG THAT YOU PICKED UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT ALL
ADDED TO YOUR TALENTS WERE NOW TEAM HOCKEY AND NETBALL
AS YOU APPROACHED THE FIRST OF YOUR TEEN YEARS
WITH YOUR LOOKS AND CHARM, INEVITABLY THE BOYFRIENDS WOULD APPEAR
SHOPPING, MOVIES AND MANY PARTY SLEEP-OVERS
CHOOSING TRUE FRIENDS AND DUMPING THE LOSERS
DANCE SHOWS AND DANCING EXAMS… YOU EXCELLED AT HIP- HOP
FUN AND OF COURSE THE DESIRE TO SHOP
THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL-- THE FINAL ASSEMBLY—AWARDS
TROPHIES FOR SPORTSMANSHIP AND YOUR S.R.C. PRIZE GOT MANY APPLAUDS
SAD FEELINGS AT LEAVING YOUR OLD SCHOOL BEHIND
EXCITEMENT AT STARTING HIGH SCHOOL WOULD SOON COME TO MIND
NO PROBLEM TO YOU, IT WAS ALL JUST A BREEZE
AS YEAR BY YEAR YOU CONTINUED TO ACHIEVE
SWIMMING AND ‘A’ TEAM HOCKY MATCHES ON THE ASTRO TURF
YOU EVEN STARTED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF
FRIDAY AFTERNOON CHRISTIAN MEETINGS AND EVENING CHURCH YOUTH
WE WERE SO HAPPY YOU FOUND GOD AND HIS TRUTH
THE REST OF HIGH SCHOOL PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE WHILE
YOUR LIST OF ACHIEVEMENTS REMAINED EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH
YOUR ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS WERE ASTOUNDING
COPING WITH TOUGH SUBJECTS LIKE MATHS, SCIENCE AND ACCOUNTING
IN HOCKEY AND SWIMMING YOU MADE THE TOP TEAMS
NO SURPRISE AT ALL THAT SWIMMING COACHES MOVED IN ON THE SCENE.
THEY CULTIVATED YOUR TALENTS FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH
EVERY YOUR NIGHT YOUR PASSION SAW YOU DOING MANY LENGTHS
WEEKENDS OF GALA’S AND NATIONAL SWIMMING
S.A.SHORT COURSE, YOUR P.B’S, AND FAIR SHARE OF WINNING
TOGETHER WE CELEBRATED YOUR PLACE IN W.P. SCHOOL CHAMPS THAT YEAR
SO PROUD OF OUR BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER ALWAYS AHEAD OF HER PEERS
FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY YOU BECAME SO INDEPENDENT
STARTING YOUR STUDIES AS A B.Sc. STUDENT
IT WAS ALSO THE YEAR YOU LEARNED TO DRIVE
GOT YOUR LICENSE—DAD SPOILT YOU—NEW CAR—RESPLENDENT
YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN THE LORD STILL REMAINS FIRM
AS YOU WALK AND GROW SPIRITUALLY DAILY WITH HIM
SO MUCH HAS CHANGED, AND YET SOME THINGS REMAIN
YOU BEAUTY AND TALENTS SO EASILY MAINTAINED
YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING AND OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN WATER
YOU KNOW WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR NO. 1 SUPPORTERS
AND NOW YOU ARE 21, SWEETHEART
YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD OF YOU-- TODAY IS JUST THE START
IT SEEMS LIKE JUST YESTERDAY THAT YOU WERE BORN—
OUR DAUGHTER~LOVES BRIGHT SHINING LIGHT~ WE ADORE
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED IN EVERY WAY
WISHING YOU GOD’S RICHEST BLESSINGS ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY
HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY GIRL
TO HAVE YOU AS A DAUGHTER HAS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE
-YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE OUR MOST BEAUTIFUL TREASURE-
(FOOTNOTE: OUR DAUGHTER WILL BE 23 THIS YEAR, HAS COMPLETED HER BSc. AND HONOURS DEGREE’S IN PHYSIOLOGY AND GENETICS AND NOW DOING HER MASTERS DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE. SHE IS ALSO A PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE—DOING SWIMMING, CYCLING AND RUNNING AS ONE DISCLIPLINE)
Long poem by
Brian Johnston | Details |
Harvest time was winding down,
I was taking lunch in town,
After spending six long hours plowing stubble.
Washing up I met a man,
Guessed he was a harvest hand,
His combine crew, he said, was fixin’ to move out.
He was wearing dungarees,
We exchanged some pleasantries,
His grease stained clothes revealed he’d no fear of trouble
As I left to join the crowd,
Well, the cafe was quite loud,
Chose a corner seat where I would not need to shout.
From my new seat had a view
Of the whole room’s retinue,
Men and women who make a livin’ from the dirt.
A table seating seven,
Which could have held eleven,
Was where my new acquaintance waited for his lunch.
A young woman with three girls,
Blonde hair all done up in curls,
Joked with and teased an older boy with a clean shirt.
The youngest seemed the cutest,
Still with girls there’s no sure test,
It was clear that these seven were a charming bunch.
Well quite soon our meals arrived,
As I ate I still contrived,
To simply take in all the action I could get,
Even though I felt quite blest,
How I longed to be their guest,
What a gift to be their dad, uncle, or brother.
Then, ‘Oh God, ’ there came a shock,
And it hit me like a rock,
As this loving mother smoked her first cigarette.
It was like my best friend died
And deep in my heart I cried
As quietly she lit up and smoked another.
Excuse me if I’m unkind,
But all this brought back to mind,
A smoking relative whose life was soon to end.
Her choice couldn’t be undone,
For her daughter and a son,
Her addiction's death came too late with no one spared.
God has a lien on my heart,
He promised we’d never part,
Required just that I serve Him by being a friend
To others in my pathway,
(Whether they’re pure bred or stray)
My most personal assets always to be shared.
I felt God’s call to action,
But doubting words had traction
I had a C-note that I concealed in my hand,
Walked to the group of seven,
Prayed all the time to heaven,
And as a joke said, ‘Are you all on safari? ’
Told them I was a farmer,
And attempting to charm her,
Praised her family in some ways I’d fore planned,
She beamed at the attention ,
Was surprised when I mentioned,
That I also had designed games for Atari.
I said, ‘You might think this strange,
But do you have plans to change
Your smoking habits? You smoked two after eating! '
She smiled, ‘Of course I’d like to.
But somehow I never do.’
I opened my hand, ‘It’s yours if you’ll quit today! ’
I knew she could feel the Love,
With one source, from God above,
It guided her heart to miraculous meeting.
She looked at my outstretched hand,
Crying, ‘I don’t understand,
This can’t be happening to me, there’s just no way! ’
She still couldn’t quite believe,
And with heart out on her sleeve,
She looked up at me and said, ‘You’re kidding, aren’t you? ’
I answered, ‘Give me your word,
That these changes have occurred,
That you will never smoke again, and all is good! '
She turned to her three daughters,
As if to check the waters,
Asked them, ‘Should Mommy bid her cigarettes adieu? ’
Well the girls all screamed out, ‘Yes! ’
And I really must confess,
The mother’s smile convinced me she too understood.
She didn’t try to hedge her bets,
Handed me her cigarettes,
She took some paper and a pen out of her purse.
I guess I looked kind of blank…
‘Write down who I have to thank, ’
She said, ‘I want to write and tell you how I’m doing.'
As I handed back my name,
She said, ‘Oh look! They’re the same! '
And I found myself rejoicing, ‘I have done worse.’
Fifteen years though now have past,
Oh, My God, they went so fast,
There’s been no word, but no doubts am I pursuing.
On returning to the field,
My work’s promise was to yield
A speedy death to any green weed still growing.
I have farmed now many years
Know just how to shift the gears
Of a tractor which out-pulls five hundred horses.
Things were going pretty good,
When, by landing on the hood
A sparrow made a mockery of all knowing.
To start off the hood is hot,
A place to rest, it is not,
Yet he seemed quite content as I ran my courses.
Engine’s roar did not phase him,
Its harsh sound sure was no hymn,
I was plowing fast over ground that was quite rough.
He’d bounce forward and then aft,
Even slide in the cross draft,
But it seemed like the little sparrow did not care.
I thought maybe he is sick,
Perhaps his brain isn’t quick,
Then I thought, ‘He likes me, ’ and I stopped feeling gruff.
Some days I serve sea gull schools
Circling my tractor’s dust pools,
A moving smorgasbord of insects that rise there.
My friend wasn’t there for food
Which helped establish a mood
Of brotherhood like I’d felt in the restaurant.
It felt closer to caring,
Something more than just sharing,
Though glass stood inbetween, his eyes stayed locked on mine.
If our dance was like a dream,
No enticement did I scheme,
The sweet gift of his presence wasn’t meant to taunt.
When at last he shook his head,
And into the sky he fled,
I understood, by God, his visit was divine.
Long poem by
S.Jagathsimhan Nair | Details |
The Story of History
Beyond those beaten days’ depleted daylight
Beyond the bathos of a pandemic bondage
With the resurrected sashay’s charmed night
Down in the dumps at the pretentious proscenium
A shy orchestration sans bark and bite
Afloat in the air of inarticulate mind games
Intuitive rains, first ever, like the touch of Midas
Informed dense minds and filled their dented bowls
Birthing the quartet of Vedas and similar works
There was this epic, longest ever , they say
Bales and bales of tales in miscible moral wraps
With a natal nugget, on tall righteous props
The Mahabharata with the Gita, like Mata, Pita
And its transcendental twin revered more
For a daily hosanna..the Ramayana with a deep lore
Banish-evil-battle-cries, confronting blasted minds
Search lights, self’s unfoldment and its kind
Her children made but never did dig history
But loved digging up its bedraggled mystery
To find bone dry drains, history’s torn veins
Below multi layered mud and muddled bricks
Twisted and labored logic on tensile testaments
Sites that suffered blights thru unknowable nights
To find the four battens , the debacle, to follow
Someone on the way labeled it Harappa .
All the while Light ruled, but rigours too brewed
Calling often for a reordering of ways so crude
Then there were slices of truce..
Of collapsed black holes the horizon was full
Faded for once their gravitational pulls
Exploding back as eternal stars ..
Alongside kings ruled and kingdoms rolled
‘ Ruler’-coaster-rides on thrones and thorns followed
Till bandit chieftains erased the all important lines
To the dance of dust from an advancing west
Battling to drop anchors on motherly chest.
Bare-faced brigands. Among their odious offspring
Some stood out to shine with a stupendous ring
Either putting up statecraft’s show pieces
Or scripting epitaphs in eponymous edifices
Till dissipated and deterred they too heard
The trenchant call of folks come from far to trade
That would spell , in time, your damnation
In manacles of measured manipulations.
Against its prolonged , protracted reticulation
Rose legit gripes from gregarious formations
That would coalesce under the one and only Gandhi
Into their momentous waking into life and freedom
Split up, as it were, into two bickering fragments
To play fitfully, for ever, their petulant fiddles
Averse to complement under demagogic detours
Falsely comfy under the convenience of inheritance
Six decades of self rule on, your children feel conned
Not for failed hopes, but for the disharmony that haunts.
An one- sport -nation fixated with a fixing -fame-game
Movie-obsessed , and with its TV
Blank beyond trivia and brand names.
Money and food are no problem for many
But, for too many, they are; vehicles are plenty
But roads aren’t ; laws are varied and abundant
Some redundant , but every pervert who counts
Interprets them different and funnily implements.
Health care wears a five star halo sans humaneness.
It never frees a dying adult or kid from its kinky tubes
Nor permit the company of kin to them for one last time
Ignores the terminally and unmovably sick stuck at home.
Agriculture does well, but farmers don’t ,.. and kill themselves
Petty retailers are swell making a killing, selling farm produce.
Stupidity grows muscles to muzzle humanity
Hunks grow on vitamins, video games and vanity
Freed millions press after pelf and power, plays hell
With the weak and the women , their perennial fair game
Profiteering, covert, overt, and across the board
The sick, the student, the seeker after any service
Any victim or one with a gripe being its victims
That’s by the very cream , no less, all the same
Media scream with scam and spam all the time
Even the ones,( that’s about all), with their own aims
The combined do’s of brash bravado and venality
A rash on governance and a blot on name.
Effete ethics and moribund morals, seniors mumble..
‘Equality before law’ means ’ Advantage to the outlaw’
Freedom for the grabs means restraints to many
Succour often hard-to -reach and reaching-too-late
Louts and lousy offices dot street corners and roads
Governance press after targets too disparate
To cohere or collaborate towards a wholesome goal,
Leaving holes for private or pet agendas to infiltrate.
Front-end-folks or prickly pears?
Menace, malice, avarice, lies, police…
Unrestrained delight in deliberate discourtesies.
Why -dad-anyway-Why- not- call-him-uncle-attitudes…
What does not tempt is in for contempt,
Being irreverent to the important, and indifferent
To the different, is the norm and the trend.
Democracy could well slip into demonocracy
Like when “Two wolves and a goat vote to decide dinner”**
In the absence of the Will to lift it to meritocracy?
PS: This poem ( 100 lines, 777 words, as it turned about to be ) is about INDIA, my country.
*”Mata, Pita ‘ mean Mother, Father
** Based on a quote seen somewhere.
S.Jagathsimhan Nair, 26 May 2013,
For Cyndi MacMillan’s contest.
Long poem by
Funom Makama | Details |
How the housefly gets attracted to organic decay
and an infant child traces the voice of its mother
are nothing compared to the intense attraction
Michelle and I possess on the guy owning not a strand of hair on his head
but is in command of all forms of feminine arousal
Our weakness was too glaring; our lust, too embarrassing
the chance to act rare and expensive we've lost.
All we've got is to dance to the tune of his authority
as he smiled and consented to our 'not so hidden' desires.
Now, he walks straight at us his every step, an additional load on me
I seem to carry the entire solar system on my chest.
My heartbeat, pulsations and breath are as loud as a live rock band
"I've never seen you here is this your first time?"......... He said
"Yeah, actually!".................. I said.
My friend and I responded simultaneously
our answers gushing out like a group of running horses,
mine seem to carry more weight as it tames any challenge from hers.
"So, how did two love Angels fall in such an unworthy place as this?"......... He said
"How unworthy?"........................................... I Said.
I've championed the game of words and emotions
and just as what inevitably defines the day is sunlight
so is my testament.
Michelle showed glimpse of disapproval to my replies
but my exclamation of her name gave adequate caution.
"yes, this place is unworthy, because I need to pass through seven Oceans
and seven hills to see someone like you"........... He said.
"Then you'll never find me there. I'm not a specie going extinct." ............................ I Said.
The gods of luck have smiled on the Lions once again
in preference to other cats.
The father of favour, shaking hands with the Eagle
while by-passing the other birds.
This is my exact situation as jealousy builds a castle in my friend's heart.
"So, what's your name, sweet damsel?"...... He said.
"Anna"........................................................ I said.
This is a familiar routine, his plan is as detectable
and as obvious as watered grass
but letting it turn green is what I must not allow
so that the security of my reputation is not compromised.
"Anna is a lovely name, do you like poker?"........ He said.
"No, I don't!"........... I said.
The looks of my friend, spoke 'awe' mine replied in aggression
then she flowed in complete understanding on its message on not acting cheap
especially to the one we've shown so much likeness.
"So what do you like?".......................He said.
"Going out to the Cinema or the beach or engaging in salsa".......................... I said.
Already scoring goals and dominating the game,
I felt my opponent was completely toothless and flattened.
But playing along is my aim to make him beg on his knees
which adds to my fame.
"Can we try any of those sooner?"......................... He said.
"How do you mean?"............................................... I said.
Another punch brings about another shield
and sometimes a strong defence feels more fulfilling than a heavy attack.
"Let's go out to the movies this night"............. He said.
"I'm busy tonight!"........................................... I said.
It feels like punishment to him but he takes it like a challenge
and this keeps me far from winning.
Being on top is my birth right and a step lower is deemed a sacrilege.
"What about going to the beach this weekend?".................. He said
"I'll be out of town"................................................................. I said.
Persistence could be rewarding but my protective walls
are just too thick for any form of penetration;
too high for any form of infiltration
and too deep for any form of condemnation.
"Then, when would you be free to teach me Salsa?"............................ He said.
"I'm not stable, neither can I determine my free time"..................... I said.
The game of attack and defense is never absolute
as the attacker may fall victim of a rare counter attack
or the defender, gets wary of his defense
with no chance to pull an offensive string.
Either, ending up as the vanquish despite the brilliant strategies being set up.
"Michelle, are you also unstable like Anna?"...... He said
"What!"............................................................... I said.
Envy plans on a historic transfer
while my friend poised not an aota of difficulty
and this makes me extremely furious.
She was just at the corner waiting for this opportunity
and even before it avails itself, she snatches it into her well guided belongings.
Looking at both in confusion and disappointment;
they share contacts and crack jokes.
"I'll give you a call this evening".................. He said
Nothing I said because now, Michelle is running the show.