Long poem by
Herbert Siao | Details |
It was like a whisper-
My wife delivered the sad news-
"Your grandfather was dead."-
And so he was-
Her eyes was awfully sad-
Touched me gently on my back-
He was old-
The time I started to noticed him around-
He was a relic-
He talked about the war-
The warring in the land-
Dispute over religion-
The greatness of the past Presidency-
How Marcos summary killed young idealist-
How my uncle survived the bullet-
And wrote a letter to Imelda to help him-
The hospital bill in exchange of his ideology-
How he comes on this land-
Answered the migration call-
In the Southern Philippine-
He was young-
He loves democracy-
He went to street and joined the protesters-
To end up injustices-
He tilted the land-
Grow coffee and Avocado-
He sniffed the salty wind of the Celebes sea-
As he stood at the cliff of Matutum-
Sometimes they sale fruits in the public market-
Those years of the early 60's-
While my mother was just a kid-
Then we came-
My cousins and us-
We sat at the table-
Trembling in the dark of dawn-
That was during our summer escapade-
While grandma prepared for us a hot milk-
Then he walked near beside-
Staring on us-
Preached the narrative of his life-
As I perceived-
He was a learned man-
Our pillar collapsed-
My knees gave up-
I sat on a bench-
My body drenched by my cold sweat-
My eyes drawn beyond the wall-
Like I search things on the mirror-
Tears lined on my eye-
An innocent face-
Stared back from the reflection of the clear pond-
"Eat it..eat it..eat it..",my older cousin whimpered-
We wore straw hat-
And a checkered polo-
And the place was cold-
That morning, we went into a brook-
We forgot time went by-
It was already two in the afternoon-
"Let's go home!", I don't recall who said that-
We walked briskly-
Hold a big salmon on our hand-
We were afraid-
The sky was slowly given up from the dark-
The rain started to pour-
Then we saw him-
He was there signaling us to halt-
Tending his carabao-
We gathered on the sofa-
Only the flickers of the light glows-
He sat on the dark corner-
Listened the radio transistor gibbers-
The mountain loomed in silence-
The radio announcer talked about the cold front-
The wind outside whistled-
At school he asked on us sometimes-
How things going on-
He bragged about it-
To his neighbors-
On his house at Tieza-
There was this book rack-
I sat there often-
Those stories about the Greeks-
The Filipino contemporary authors-
Because of that I love to stay in the library-
Hand gripped the yellow mongol pencil-
Scribbling some words on crumpled papers-
And hid it somewhere-
At college he went to our house at Silway-
He watched the television-
I read silently the Doveglion-
Near beside him-
He was weak and knew his end was coming-
I touched his head always-
He breath weakly and coughed-
How I love my old man-
My son likes to play beside him-
He was on his death bed-
Then my wife-
Was standing right in front on the workplace-
She looked at me on the eye-
And I knew the smile of there is something-
I knew he was gone-
Long poem by
Bambi Graf-Burnham | Details |
MY MOTHERS EULOGY:
CAROL JEAN MOELLER-SCHUMANN
All I wanted was the first ever out of your mouth IM SORRY before the devil collected your soul.
But take it with you... What else is new?
You lived your entire life lying, pretending, pimping, sucking souls with an innocent smile and thick sugar coating.
SIXTEEN YEARS IN TOTAL of psychotherapy and I didn't even dent the cycle! That astounds me.
Without doubt, all those who love and follow you, have millions of 2+2's without me breaking the silence; yet say 4 is me being crazy.
The last falling out between us was because I refused to help con 40,000.00 from my oldest sons girlfriend... But somehow all of these people and family around you can't see it.
Otherwise smart, educated, successful, and productive citizens...
Sixteen years of doctorate counseling... IM THE CRAZY ONE!
Sixteen years that you proclaim I'm crazy -
And lying. YET NEVER ONCE CALLED MY THERAPIST NOR MET ONE?
I do not understand this.
Dysfunction running so profoundly deep that your followers deny 4. Not one of them have ever called or met my counselors either.
But lie and slander lifelong.
Your journeyman Dawn who points at me, graduated as a RN but was denied her nursing degree when they found her two felony pimp convictions.
But I'm some dope whore.
I was first in family to get a college degree with a 4.0 gpa. But that's not talked about...
Carol, you sold both of your daughters out to prostitution and profited off that for most of your adult life.
No thank you either. You told people you come from money but lowered yourself marrying Dave out of love.
And he helped you pimp and profit!
Judgement day is upon you and you can't fake out God. But if you're soulless, maybe you skip judgement and know your place.
In these last years, you've taught me hate.
And I had intense counseling to reassure myself that looking forward to the end and feeling relieved were not the sickness they feel like. And my anger at your selfishness choosing to die in your lie like it is dignity. I could not do that. But I did not sell my children or profit off them either.
Oh well, more wasting of pleas for your love, any apology for having no love for me, lifelong invalidation and abuse to your death.
Devil be gone!
For two years I told you what Cody was doing, you blew me off but pulled him close and, again, PROFITTED from selling out a child. Your 20 year old grandson serving ten years federal prison time should be YOU IN THERE!
That's when my hatred for you solidified and I feared for every single child near you.
Watching you teach 3 year old RAMYAH, who is your very dark skinned mixed ethnicity great grand daughter, to use the word NIGGER. Just last summer...
Yes, I look forward to the end of you with great relief!
What a mess you are and leave behind.
You belong in hell.
Good bye Carol.
You were no mother to me. You are my enemy and worse nightmare.
I didn't dent the cycle. But I'm not living a lie, keeping your dirty secrets, and my soul is intact.
Sorry for you.
So it is I who tells you that I am sorry.
Hope that's all you wanted too.
Your oldest daughter Bambi.
Long poem by
Tiana Tillman | Details |
If I only had a few more minutes before you passed away
I'd tell you all the things I didn't get to say
I'd sit down with you and reminisce about our cape cod days
Go over one more time the particular day you walked my way
When you asked me, "can I meet your friend", and you and taryn danced the night away. It was no doubt, meant to be and your family instantly grew to three, taryn was your rock and Jordyn was your number one girl. Within a year you got the news you family would grow to four. I remember when you called me after receiving the news, you kept asking me if it was true. I told u yes cuz taryn wouldn't play a joke like that on you. You were going to be an exceptional father as you already had proven to be. As expected, You embraced the role and a new glow came over you that I had never seen before. The love the joy that shun through your eyes as your family became a family of five. a memory that will never fade in our minds. You worked day and night to provide your family with anything they did need.
I was amazed to see how much you changed throughout the years right in front of me. Your sacrifice, your drive. It was much too early to say goodbye. To a man who's smile alone warmed our heart, a man with so much love of life. From Haiti to Oregon, You played such a prominent role in everyones lives. Your spirit and values will carry on, especially through your daughters eyes.
I'll miss our talks, I'll miss the laughter, I'll miss your relationship advice
I'll miss you telling me to be happy and just enjoy life
I will cherish every word you ever said, even the ones I didn't understand
I will make sure the girls realize you are right there still holding their hands
Looking over them protecting them the best that you can
I will continue to bring my friend back to the joyous state I know you would want her to be. You'd tell her to keep your head up taryn, my love cuz I live inside of you too.
To wipe our tears and go on with our days.
Live life to the fullest and don't question gods way
If I had just a few more moments with you, there's so much more I would say
I'd thank you for the beautiful Angels you brought this way
I'd thank you for showing my friend the definition of true love
God blessed her with your presence in her life
Because You were truly heaven sent from above
For me the words unspoken never really needed to be said
More than just a friend you were like no other
You will always hold a place in my heart, because u you were my brother
Your love will never be forgotten
The fun we shared, The laughter, the cries
We know the hurt will ease in time
The joy you brought, with all of your love and affection
You will always be so much apart
Apart of your soul mate taryn, Your daughters Jordyn, taelyn and Jaxyn
Although we miss you, we are comforted your presence will never leave their side
So from this day forward, my brother, Dalo, WE CELEBRATE YOUR LIFE
Long poem by
Prince Rage | Details |
Who or What are these People?
There across the sea is something on top of the steeple?
It looks like people? But with a different neck? Should I pet or let my bird peck at it? I cannot tell what it is. But from what I can see upon is that there are numbers of them maybe, there are even different kinds of them.
I wonder will I find one who speaks my tongue?
From the looks around of it. I see that everybody is either similar or different from the head and on down. I see angry people, I see careful people, smart people, even dumb people. But the most of rare things I have never seen was an extreme person with the never to act like a black sheep bull!
This boat is heavy lets pull it to shore.
Before they awake and then we would have to catch them before they learn how to explore.
Let's give them a break, away from civil war and general warlords.
Iran and Iraq wars,
Post-Bush words of how great it is to take somebody oil.
Let's ignore the world.
They turn their backs on it before the chance to speak would be no more than a beep. But when they do, all you can hear is the words coming straight from the Louisiana birds.
Lets take a much closer look at these people...
They have a cool walk,
They talk smooth,
They can do what another person do and make it cool.
These People don't wanna be used.
These People don't wanna be the ones who are still being abused.
These people are close to blowing their fuse!
What would the world do if these people was to ever get loose and learn the means of what it means to be misused and abused?
As a person made from other people who are made from a genius who sits above a steeple.
I am only looking across this gate
This wooden gate.
To see about reasoning with these people to make them see that we don't need no more evil, but to my belief in people with big egos. I would have mistaken these people as creatures unlike me and you. And that should have been put down eons ago. Because now I am looking down from this tower and I see that these people would not have survived. If somebody didn't pull out a gun and killed a revelation type of guy.
The world would always be a genocide, but it don't always have to be. If these people look ahead into the future and stopped memorizing on the past. They would stop having false gas or getting a plastic ass.
But when I look over this African wooden gate that's placed on the warm African sand.
I cannot help but to wonder will I ever meet these people in the near distance future.
And they have an amazing story to tell after they put a ban on the people being in jail and shut down all the wholesale. Of whore sales and prevail through the black veil of hades and his underground version of hell.
- Who or What are these people.
Long poem by
Denise Hopkins | Details |
written 14th July 2013
My sorrow, is overwhelming my 'entire' soul
for in my jaded life, my dear "Nath" would be the last breath taken away
Why does God, continue taking those that play the most 'critical' roll
my life is 'never' going to endure, any hint of ease.. no way
Heart heavy, loss and pain all consuming me 'again'
God, I plea with you leave me those that I 'love' these day's
It's become 'that' part of the year, my Nathan was taken due to 'my' curse
tears flood my entire being, why do you always insist I live entirely 'alone'
Sorrow just in this year now at 'half point' has finally taken the 'full' toll
I no longer see, any thing as my destiny that I shall 'exude'
When, will it 'ever' be my turn, I wait..to become the next called to heaven
"am" I not worthy, of your abundant grace?
You, seem to take 'everyone' I 'entrust' to a faraway land
Nathan Reide' these are my tears containing, the 'most sorrow' I've ever let fall
But, every memory of you and me, stop all of the pain
just, another pain and despair to add to my life's endurance 'till'
I long, for peace, joy and 'any' kind of life would do me,
at this point of my life, I can not take anymore, seriously, lighten up on me!
I fear in new friends, how long..before you conclude they too will end
You bless me with a loving husband, mother, father, niece
When.. do you think you might, 'let' me see them... this is my plea
returning me back into church, I am in need off being blessed
How 'come' you did take that away from me?
faith, in me stayed 'strong' you alone know the extent
I need to move 'now' I have stayed still, and achieved what I think I was to
poet, I assume that was 'my reason' why you kept here
With that now in full swing
can you now spread my wings
You are 'overpowering' my soul, and I now do as I am told
patience, never was my best strength, have I 'not' proved to you
I'm completely at your mercy, you are the entity that drives the heart of me
with all that, I need a break between all these sorrowful times, 'may I now move'
This is the deepest of despair, I have ever endured, please see me through
I am more than 'positive' I WILL NOT make it through, another emotional trial
Not to be left here, still bleeding the way I still am...
darkness has taking more of my light I'm loosing all sight, of who is me...
My heart full of anguish and grief, depression takes her advantage, of the ease
I have nothing worth finding joy or enlightenment anyway, she will have me...
I don't have any strength to even consider the thought of even trying this time
in defending myself against her this time
She only win's by default...
Long poem by
Maz Zie | Details |
When I think of the times in therapy that I spent with Lenny, they weren't that of a therapist to a patient. They were more of daughter to father or daughter to grandfather. Like every teacher has their favorite student, he was one of my favorites of all time. This man had a sense of humor that could turn any piece of hard advice into a joke or any situation to a smile.
"Why didn't you just fix your watch instead of buying a new one? that's the problem with your generation today!" He'd say when I walked in.
"Did you call the foot doctor like I asked you to get those special made shoes so your feet don't hurt? No! you didn't listen!" He'd retort.
Some coworkers saw Lenny as short and mean tempered, but I saw his light, humorous side and pictured him more as a tough-love family member.
I noted a picture of his grandson and granddaughter sat by his bed.
One morning, I went to visit him even though he wasn't scheduled for treatment, 'he's all alone ', I thought,' 'I should probably check on him, I'll just make sure he's alright, he's probably lonely.'
As I walked by, I overheard a conversation with Lenny and his 90-something veteran, roommate, Sonny, "you know why you're here?!" he smugly explained, "your wife's pretty smart, she is smarter than me, she just just don't want to deal with you, my wife's dead. that's why I'm here." He smiled.
I kept walking, frowning on the inside and out, That was pretty mean, if it was or wasn't true.
A Frail old man in the 80s, with large rimmed glasses, a pronounced Jewish nose and a few wisps of gray hair, he was then the highlight of stressful days & a dear friend of mine. I loved to walk into his room and rescue him from the dullness that had become his life after a long stint of failing health & trips to the hospital. Perhaps, sometimes he too, rescued me.
One morning, I approached the nurses station of unit three in my building to get him, only to hear that Lenny had gone to the hospital after falling out of bed over the weekend. They told me he was far too weak to make the trip back.
My heart broke and I walked on down the hallway, fighting the tears.
"What's wrong??" A coworker from rehab approached me, seeing my blank expression. 'everything's wrong....' I wanted to explain, 'life's not fair.'
I knew this would happen, I knew deep down of how he was old and frail. But sometimes the sharpness of someone's mind and the truthfulness of the spirit can lie to us. Promising times to come. Goodbye my friend. It does not get easier but dulls my sadness once more to say...I was lucky to know you. Your suffering will be over soon.
Lenny died the next day.
Long poem by
Poet Destroyer A | Details |
~The Untold Fatal Attraction Poem~
Mid-morning she sees the sun ahead
Her death flowed in a messaged bottle
Gazing into her brown eyes upon all open sores,
Her conscience dark and gray a never-ending war!
A giant cyclone of a thousand thoughts swirled around this little girl.
Inflicting away the pain, through the comfort of others pen
The way she twisted and twisted life’s perception was out of her control
Inside she knew the glass slipper was never hers to show off
She is baring nothing but a tainted pen, walking throughout eternity’s sand
A prosecutor of misdeeds, accomplishing what, without knowing the way
Departing from her fractured self, she begins to slip into a righteous form,
Twirling her twilight's pen like a baton, spinning it to one final stand
She awakens in a dream, where her sadness does not allow the light to reform
Her body is weak and pale against the birth of her undying sun
Staring down into the deepness of every-bodies abyss
Inside all souls is where she felt lighter, than the retarded sun gives
A crimson sky follows her just to reveal her diminished soul,
A life of shunning out the city glow will always dwell deep inside her
Sleeping under society as one, insulting the taste of innocent blood
Forgetting the vengeance, in a dimension where the pen is mightier than the sword
How did she let it come to this?
In one feeling she fell in love with the spirit of the living rhyme
Watching from a cave, with a diabolical look
Refusing to grasp the self - nature and kill off the destroyer's will
A price beyond this enigmatic world, craving to be just like them
Condemning her meaning to a blasphemy of white butterflies
Destroying her poetic meaning that was destined to dance a tangle of endless rage
In love with the essence of her deceased will
She clings on to the dimness and brilliance at the same time
All corpses lost beyond the girl in question,
Sympathetic in a bizarre language, she mutters out sweetness
Her heart mended, recognizing all the adoration and poetic addiction
Exchanging the real terror, fixated by the life force of her poetic destruction
Giving birth to a new revelation
Now she will never deceive her love for the making of true art,
Not wanting to belong in this wretched world with her destroying criteria,
Her soul sails looking for a new era where love will no longer generate
As she loathes the love and decides not to destroy this generation with hate
At last, longing this one day with the angel of death
With a closing teardrop, one last thought
My death will not be the end; only the ascension~
Poet Destroyer A
Long poem by
Robert William Gruhn | Details |
Dedicated to my dearly loved and departed cousin Johnnie
who passed away peacefully in his sleep. I love you Johnnie.
I hope that now you will watch over all of us here on Earth as you stand now
with God in Heaven, His hand on your shoulder, healed now forever as He embraces you.
I hope that someday I will be able to "walk" with you both in paradise. You were one of the
most beautiful human beings I have ever known. This world has lost one of its mortal angels.
Boy of Gentleness....Man of Courage:
Just two ways I'll always remember you,
Bravest soldier who never set foot on a battlefield,
Fighting an invisible enemy still not yet conquered,
For 46 years battling that black knight called Muscular Dystrophy,
No more worthy opponent has that enemy ever met than you,
Displaying courage far beyond many human's comprehension,
Suffering unspeakable wounds from within that racked and withered your body,
Still, you smiled bravely through it all,
From crutches as a child to wheelchair as teen,
With each and every setback you never surrendered,
Loving life and understanding its true value more than most,
You watched without bitterness as other children ran and played,
Always ready to share your toys generously with a smile on your face,
That giving part of you never changed,
Even into the years of your adult life,
My cousin and wonderful friend you are my hero,
You mastered bravery beyond the call of living,
And let's not forget your greatest ally of all,
Your best buddy throughout all the years of your life,
Your beloved mother Mary,
She was right beside you through every battle,
While you both fought against the cruelest of enemies,
One that bore no remorse or pity for its defenseless victims,
Aunt Mary is a saint in my mind and another hero,
The word devotion could have been invented describing her,
Johnnie, I'm sure you are smiling and nodding from Heaven in agreement,
She is the personification of what a loving mother truly is,
Always telling everyone that her greatest wish was to live just one more day than you,
She kept that promise never to leave you behind on Earth without her,
Johnnie, I started out writing this to be a poem in my usual style to honor you,
Well, it turned out a little differently so I hope you don't mind,
This is just what came out of my mind for now,
Heck, it won't be that long before we see each other again.
I will always miss you while still on Earth, I LOVE YOU!!!!
Robert William Gruhn
Long poem by
Su Ben | Details |
Death isn’t that significant, is it?
just like life is nothing peculiar.
The importance, however, is that life is given
to an individual only once and cannot be shared with others,
whether it was acquired through one’s own will or given by God.
And if that is true, why didn’t you, Leo, hold onto God’s man
and wrestle like Jacob, the human trash, the crafty swindler,
until God granted His assurance of extended life?
Or, at least, cried with no food or drink but holding onto
God for His mercy for a week, like David did
when his first-born child between Bathsheba died.
I thought, however, that God would let you live longer
even though you did not beg for extended life, because
you were an extraordinary human being a man of hunger
and thirst for righteousness, because you agonized over
others’ sufferings and comforted them to lessen their burdens.
Nonetheless, we are so dull-witted and ignorant
that though death stares at us in the face we all thought
that we would live together our wonderful friend, Leo,
until the day you finished your unfinished works.
For the world of spirit is deeply contaminated with evil
and the physical things are widely polluted with unwanted
human made wastes. Instead of the present, you tried to live
in the past.
However, you always wrote your past down
in a beautiful way, and bound it as books of memory
to share your thoughts with your neighbors.
Our dear friend Leo! you visited the hospitals of lonely sufferers,
the beds of wounded veterans, who faded away from our memories,
the warriors who fought for the name of our nation to warfare in 1945 European theatres and Pacific islands; 1953 at the gloomy wet peninsula where never ending rain kept pouring; 1975 at the horrifying deep jungle surrounded by flying bamboo spears.
You visited the house of the blind for disadvantaged ones,
the house of those forgotten in old age, bringing unforgettable stories to comfort them. Yet you cannot stand still and watch the troubled times therefore you went to the politicians and administrators not in the form of a clamorous showy instigator but persuading them quietly as a hidden activist.
Although you have left us too early, we are living in your memory
and because we live in your memory, we will succeed in your dream
and continue to carry it out until our days are passed,
O, therefore, our wonderful friend Leo! Rest in peace
with your beautiful and unforgettable memory forever and ever.
Long poem by
john beharry | Details |
Dressed in my shaggy brown coat
I stand nearly six feet
at my shoulders
and weigh almost a ton
My brethren and I
once roamed the prairies
in herds of millions
grazing on its grass
which fed and nourished us
for tens of thousands of years
Running at speeds of
over thirty five miles per hour
across the prairies
in herds that stretched
as far as the eye could see
our hooves created
a thunderous sound
that shook the earth
causing it to tremble
like an earthquake
When packs of wolves attacked us
we surrounded our calves
kept our heads down
flashed our horns
and charged them
to fight them off
At times though
we were not able
to save our young
our old and ill brethren
when they were separated
from the protection
of the herd
The redskins were
the only human beings
we knew at that time
Though they hunted us
with bows and arrows
to feed themselves
and to satisfy their desire
for shelter and other needs
they did not waste
any part of our bodies
They respected us
and we respected them
We lived in harmony
for thousands of years
It was the advent
of the whiteskins
that initiated our decimation
They brought in large
that could keep up with
and even outrun us
The redskins realized this
tamed those creatures
sat on their backs
and hunted us
using their bows and arrows
like they did before
They killed more of us
but again they took only
as much as they needed
and did not waste
any part of our bodies
so we continued to
co-exist in harmony
It was that long mysterious stick
that the whiteskins brought in
that triggered our demise
From a great distance
it made a loud noise
and something hit us
that we could not see
but it inflicted severe
pain and agony
Some of us fell to the ground
and died quickly
while others struggled
but were injured so badly
that they died soon after
We were helpless against
this long mysterious stick
We were slaughtered
in our millions
They left our dead bodies
to rot and decay
where we fell
Sometimes they took away our coats
Other times they cut out
our tongues only
and left the rest
of our dead bodies
to putrefy and decay
on the prairie grasslands
that we had trod on proudly
for thousands of years
This is my epitaph
for I just saw the glint
of the sunlight
on the long mysterious stick
heard its thunder
and felt something
go deep into my insides
as I fall to the ground
I am on way to meet
my proud ancestors
who once roamed
these lands in freedom as
Lords Of The Prairies