Long Food Poems. These are the most popular long Food by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Food poems by poem length and keyword.
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sometimes i talk to myself,
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all.
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister,
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it.
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room,
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy,
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her?
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse.
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat,
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why?
because daddy yelled
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...
Now as the years passed by everyone became so tired
the heaps of things scattered around became too much to bear
some benevolence was certainly grand but this was too much
the two felt unable to undertake the long arduous journey
so it was agreed their sons Bam and Muss would go
setting out they followed their fathers footsteps back to the cave
Eventually they arrived at the bottom of the valley to see just ruins
Bam said " Lets look for tracks" and soon they found a path
Travelling for days they followed it deep into new territory
until in the far distance they saw some huts in a clearing
As they approached they were surrounded by the natives
who took them to the Shaman who said " I foresaw your coming"
Seated they feasted and chatted telling the Shaman about their fathers
like them they found the food very hot and spicy gulping down the coconut brew
and drifted off into a mysterious sleep that took them back to the monolith
entering through the gate of light they found the Druids gathered
and saw the Tree of Life was half restored. " Your fathers did well " said the Druid
" but things still need to be Adjusted. We have one gift for you to take back "
"It is the gift of Tranquillity together with Benevolence it will help restore the balance
but you will need to journey on from here to the spirit world and talk to the old Gods
and with a bright flash the Druids vanished leaving one shiny stone on the ground
the young men picked it up and found themselves once more spinning through time
until they found themselves in a very strange land. Here was the home of the Gods
mighty Jupiter roared " You men are fools with your wanton destruction of things."
"Yet you come to us expecting our help in putting right the world's balance."
Mars the mighty war god then spoke " There are three tasks you must complete
before we will help you. First you must clean out the Royal Stables and re-bed them"
The young men set to work it took them five days to complete this onus task.
Returning to Mars who hummed and accepted their work with praise. "Now go
to Venus she will give you your next task, mind she is a hard goddess to please."
When they met her she looked at them and laughed. " Never have I seen such
puny specimens. I doubt you have the strength to complete even a simple task.
Still if you you succeed you will be nearer your goal, and she pointed at a rocky
place, clear this and make me a garden I am bored of having no where of beauty
to sit and reflect and to entice my lovers into my arms. Build it so I may sing my songs and enthral the heart of Thor too long he has been impervious to my whiles. "
Bam and Muss started to clear the site but there was one rock that was massive
it defeated all their attempts to smash it up or even to roll it out of the way
so they went to the Royal Stables and explained their plight to Hermes " That
is easy" he said " Take twenty horses they will soon remove it for you, mind
you feed them well or they will cease to work for you. They need the freshest
hay grown from the clover fields A ton or two will do the trick and keep them happy."
First it took them another week gathering in the sweet hay which they then fed
to the Royal Steeds. Already happy with their clean stables they were happy to help.
In no time at all they cleared away the massive bounder leaving the ground ready
now it needed to be tilled and planted. Soon the ground was ready and flowers of
rare beauty began to grow spreading enticing smells and the Gods were pleased.
"All it needs now are some benches and arches and a lovely fountain then I will
surely ensnare Thor's heart." At last all was done to her commands and Thor
wandered over and seeing Venus sat near the fountain was captivated by her
charms. Of course they had one more task and this one was for Thor himself.
He wanted a new thunderbolt spear made of the finest silver from Hades mines
Hades said they could mine as much as needed in return for their hard work.
At last after many hours of toil the had the silver needed now it needed to be forged
and tempered. For this they needed a furnace and blacksmith so they asked Vali
for his help. He started a mighty fire in the furnace and when it was hot enough
added the silver and when ready forged it into a mighty spear. "Here take it to Thor"
he said. Thor was delighted with it and said " You have completed your tasks here
is the gift of Temperance take it and restore your world's balance and harmony."
They picked it up and were whisked through time back to the lake. They hastily made two more shrines and placed the rocks inside their safety, immediately they all started to glow. They could feel the currents emitting from the rocks and over time harmony
returned and the Tree of Life began to again thrive and protect.
Returning to their village they recounted all to their fathers who were amazed
that the Shaman and his people remembered them. They were amazed by all
that their sons had done to bring this about and celebrated their feats. Now
Temperance took care of people's overboard Benevolence bringing in its wake
Peace and Prosperity (and no more piles) while the gift of Tranquillity brought
Happiness and Love and so the Natural balance of things was restored
I hope you all have enjoyed this epic if only it was so easy to put the world to rights
we would have an even lovelier world
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
PART One,,,, as she saw it.
The mountains and the meadows were always so beautiful this time of year.
It seemed as if a fresh new world always came to life. The high cliffs turned sharply downward. As I sat listening to the ocean tides smashing against the walls of the mountain below. There was a mild breeze blowing from the south. The grass in the flower covered meadows moved with the breeze. The sun shined so brightly I thought it would melt me at times.
As I stood up from the log where I was sitting by the emerald forest, the breeze pressed my dress against me. It formed to the soft round curves of my breast, down through the curves of my waist pushing against my yielding hips. As I blinked from the sun, I saw him there in the distance. I had thought I was alone. But there he was, starring straight at me. What would I do and where could I turn? I knew what kinds of thoughts men had, my mother told me all about them. I saw that he was beginning to move my way !
I saw him there as he saw me. I was paralyzed, not knowing what direction to move. Though as I watched him from afar, he did not seem dangerous as my mother always warned. Still, I could hear her words like a tape recorder in the back of my mind.
Should I dare take my eyes from his? I could see his eyes were dark, maybe brown, or even midnight blue. What ever the color, I could tell they were smoldering with restrained passions. His hair was long to his shoulder blades. I knew that because it moved with the wind. He had broad shoulders with long legs. I knew I must not let him reach me. If his arms entangled me , surely I would never get loose. And, I'm not sure I would want too. Even though I heard the words of my mother, running in my head.
I could feel the tiny beads of sweat trickling down between my breasts. I was not sure I should take my eyes from him as I leaned down to pick up the fan that had slipped from my hand to my bare feet.
PART ONE,,,, As he saw it .
The winter snow had melted and yielded to the bright warming rays of the spring sun. The bears had come out of hibernation with their new born looking for food. The mountains and the meadows were born again, new, fresh and alive with life. Everything was beautiful and as it should be. Birds singing, their mating songs blended with the crash of the surf against the steep cliffs of the mountain. Nature was at peace with itself, and I came here to share in this peace. To be alone with the earth, or so I thought.
I found a place to sit on the grass hidden among the flowers in the high meadows. So I could enjoy the gentle breeze blowing while watching the forest animals. The warm sun caressed my body and warmed me. It was a prefect day, yet something was missing. A day like this needed to be shared with someone, someone special. Stretching, I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, just across the enchanted forest. Of a beautiful women. It couldn't be possible as no one knew of this place. I had come here for years and had never seen a another person before. Yet, there she was. Dressed in a dress the wind made love to, pressing it to her body. Clinging to the sensual curves of her breast, down to her firm waist and full inviting hips. I suddenly felt drawn to her and stood up. I knew she had seen me as she was starring back at me, as I stood staring back at her. She was a vision. And I was afraid she would vanish if I approached her. Yet, she seemed to be smiling, calling to me as I started walking towards her. I remember the stories my grandmother had told me of the enchantresses that lived in this forest, but I did not hesitate. I would give to her anything she wanted, anything she desired.
As I approached her I realized she was real. She seemed to be looking at me, daring me to come closer. All the stories of the enchantress my grandmother had told me flooded my mind with a warning. Yet, she was so beautiful, so inviting and I couldn't take my eyes from her. I was slowly losing control with each and every step that brought me closer to her. I knew I was lost as I felt the heat of my desire to be with her, starting to take control. It was a struggle not to run to this beautiful creature , with the golden hair, and angelic face. As I came closer I couldn't help but notice her sensual breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She seemed to be smiling, challenging me with everything that made her a beautiful, desirable woman. A woman this sensual, this beautiful, this desirable was surely the enchantress, and I was hers. As a bee is drawn to the flower, I was being drawn to this women.
Suddenly she reached down to pick something up. It was just then I noticed she was barefoot. As she bent over to retrieve what she had dropped, the sun reflected off her spun gold hair. and radiated a golden brightness that was almost blinding. Her dress shifted allowing me to see that her body enhanced her dress, rather then the dress enhancing her body. She would look beautiful in anything she wore. The heat of my desire for her was beginning to consume me with it's fire. I felt the beginnings of ,,,,,,,,,,
Nov. 18 1992,,,, Short story I started to write, A friend ask if he could write from a males point of view.
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.
Molested the first fifteen years of my life. My mother remained silent the whole time. As the molesting continued all those years. Forced to live a pretend life all my childhood. Beaten and punished every other day. For no reason other than being a child. After all this I figured I was a unwanted child. My mother couldn't love me abusing me. She brought me fancy expensive clothes every year. To cover up all her verbal, mental, and physical abuse. She tried to hide me from people, family and friends. So that they wouldn't see the embarrassing scars and bruises. Sometimes so bad I couldn't even go to school the next day. Or I would get into fights or act rude to get a suspension notice. That would have allowed my body to heal. One time I even tried to get ex-spelled. However, it didn't work. I only came home to more beatings. Her boyfriend watched and help hold me down on the floor as she would beat, and beat, and beat. Maybe this gave him a idea that it was ok to abuse me. Being that my mother was already doing it. Yeah! From the outside looking in my childhood was perfect. Every child wanted my seat. Name-brand clothes, shoes, computers, and almost every toy in the Jc Penny catalog. From the inside looking out I was screaming to get out. Scared, alone, abused, and still a child. So there was nothing I could do. I had no brothers or sisters at the time. All my family wouldn't believe me.No! Not him they would say, and did say at age fifteen I started getting older, and more developed. I had to put a stop to this. So after talking to some school friends. I decided to talk to my mother about what was going on. So later on that night I called my mother in to talk to her. I had told her what had been going on. while she was a work, and out late shopping. She in return asked me to draw a picture of his *****. As if she didn't believe me on the spot. What! I thought to myself. How could she ask me a thing like that? After one hour she finally called the police. I was brung in also for video questioning. I told them what had been going on in the house while my mother was away. The police in return asked me "what took so long for me to tell" I replied" I was scared, alone, and threatened. I had no one in the house to protect me. From my mothers abusive ways. I thought people would tease me." The next question was to my mother. The police asked "How could you live in the same house, and not know that your child was being raped?" My mother sat quietly and had no answer. So she got charged with neglect. My mother's boyfriend got charged with child molestation, and a few other things. I can't remember them all. After all that I was still scared, but finally free. Free to be a kid again.
Awh, hell the relationship between my mother and I went down the drain. After trial she hated me even more. Every day she was threatening to kick me out of the house. I was only sixteen so she couldn't just kick me out. Yet! She even got so angry at times. She went as far as not letting me communicate with my newborn brother. She even told people to keep him away from me. That hurt me so bad everyday. I prayed to God everyday to soften my mother's heart, but it never happened. When I turned eighteen she finally kicked me out the house for real. With no place to go, no money , and no food to eat. I ended up living with family and friends until she let me back in. I don't know why, but I thought things had changed. About a week after moving she called the police and told them that I was prostituting. Which was a lie. Thank God I didn't spend time in jail. Due to her lies and deceit. I never thought I would have to leave my own mother alone. However, after that incident that was my final decision. Sporadically I call her to hear her voice, and check on my brother. Unfortunately she never answers the phone. Her guilt for abusing me won't let her answer the phone.
I moved to Albany, NY for a fresh start. A new beginning! There I met more friends, moved into a brand new apartment, and fell in love. I wasn't expecting to fall in love, but I did. With a adorable, hot, and sexy Italian guy. For the first time my life was great, and I was happy. I even tried some plus size modeling, nursing, and I started self-publishing my writings. I was accomplishing things that my mother never encouraged me to do.
After about four years I started feeling homesick . So I came back to Virginia. Wow! What destruction was happening. My whole family fell apart. Nothing or nobody were the same. They all became police property. That was a sign to continue to stay away from them. Continue my happy life. Continue self-publishing my stories. Praying to God everyday. that I remain successful. This is a true story. Unfortunately it happened to me. From a mother who brung me in this world. Only to use and abuse me my whole entire childhood. Then pretend that nothings even going on.
Copyright © 2008 #03
4/12/2008 // (Edited: 1/22/2013/lp
(a historical glimpse of humanity's rise)
*This poetic epic begins with the
greatest sin against humanity
*This poem is dedicated to all
serving and protecting the
¨Basic Rights of Mankind¨
Once, mankind was forgiven from sin
but continue to embrace it like a trend
After the Flood many nations strolled
some didn´t want true history told
All mankind has got to realize
humanity had been vandalized
A few condemmed HIM to a Cross
and mankind became a hope lost
His testimony was like no other
a promise bonding men as brothers
So, was it hate, shame or pride?
The Shroud of Turin now abide
Something embedded itself into minds
their egos separated mankind thru time
From images of Christ to the Sphinx
mankind altered their faces with ink
Societies increased across the land
but some became marauding bands
Enslaved many to learn their ways
called indentured servants nowadays
Learning finally opened many minds
forbidden to most throughout time
Conquering became a lust
many thought they must
Barbarians embraced warfare
believing in war over prayer
Some journeyed to build
but most decided to steal
Robbing nations precious gold
slaughtering the young, and old
another story that was not told
Saw oppressing others was nice
ensnared some as their sacrifice
Oppression increased in the land
because of the barbarian's plan
Their business began to boom
and corruption shot to the moon
America, land of morality and hope
still someone was signing for dope
Capital´ism made a few very rich
sin and immorality, Islam tried to fix
paganism and Communism a glitch
a conflict to shove Christianity in a ditch
Old governments embraced the Klan
still got history's blood on their hand.
Kept society busy with Santa Claus
knowing its origin is spiritually false
They knew global warming was real
maybe too late, this just sent a chill
Interested learning secrets of the brain
Drug gangs driving societies insane
Kids with little future left in sight
hopes dwindled like the Knight
Then, later came Robin Hood
with good news from the wood
Someone revived human rights
still, some decided not to fight
No need for humantarian crises
diabolical plans rolling the dices
These sinful plans between hands
slaughtering the lambs of the land
We need to fix this mess
before we come to rest
Most of world history twisted
some are now rying to fix it
For some Nations, it was too late
capital'ism quickly sealed their fate
Africa was a continent very rich
...now realizing it is in a ditch
never should´ve trusted Mitch
I even heard the Rossette Stone
was hidden in someone´s home
The secrets of Giza
painted in Mona Liza
Even the Eyptian Sphinx
tried to give mankind a wink
now hides her missing links
And, the pyramids contained a sacred Key
stolen by those not wanting us to be free
Someone hide Pandora´s Box
with final desination Fort Knox
Even, saw the Bible's Holy Grail
shipped by Fed-Ex Express Mall
Most gold, and precious artifacts
was found stolen, and hijacked
It´s hard for most to understand
they kept us busy with their plan
So, in this life we must cast our vote
moving forward with faith and hope
Those affected have become a scorn
got them hungry from dusk to dawn
World economies causing a recess
ego and pride got us in a big mess
The Middle East became a feast.
I wonder who planned that piece?
They say Mohammed started this fuss.
through history who dare finger Guss?
These differences in world religions
still affecting mankind's decisions
Humanity began in Africa and Irak
but millions destituted in a shack
The Americas to China has similiar pain
but yrants' view them as a social stain
And, there was oil for food
but someone became rude
So, once again East meets West
fighting over another treasure chest
Expenses reaching trillions
recovery costing billions
death in the millions
The greatest gift is charity
why concentrate on disparity?
We need to fix this mess
or earth soon to rest
Mismanagement of world funds
resources available by the tons
The poor and depair need more
still someone's locking the door
Feeling no guilt with pride
and the fortunes they hide
Corruption and terrorism sown
by a few of government´s own
Someone´s selfish plans ahead
have now made us very afraid...
maybe baked or nuked instead
Distitute's nourishment is baked dirt
nothing else or their stomachs hurt
Most of the time with nothing to eat
weeping for a peaceful night sleep
The 3 pathways to Heaven are narrow
selfish can learn from the sparrow.
When the next ATOM splits and divide
some gonna try to run and hide
knowing they deceived many and lied
So, don´t worry about a thing tonight
soon GOD will make things alright
Then, all children will be able to play
The Prince of Peace will come to stay
So, remember before it´s over
they too needed a shoulder
The things outside of my window dry out my eyes. The egg that I saturated has mold on it. The moon decays when I speak. The stars are all just God’s germs. Lately Holly has been combing her hair with a wrench and brushing her teeth with razor blades. I don’t remember the last time I was sober. Does it matter anyway? My nightmares are born in water and I can’t afford a boat. Money is just something you use to wipe up your brains’ blood with. My neighbor says the ocean is where civilization will be reborn.
Does happiness come with a warranty? It’s been so long since I’ve gone to the store, so I wouldn’t know. My neighbor is paranoid. He carries his rifle wherever he goes. What happens to feelings after you can’t feel anymore? Holly says that the shower nozzle feels better than I do. Last night I found an artificial word under my bed. I see faces in the winter. They all look at me like I’m spring.
Some moth keeps fluttering by my window, it can’t get out. The moon calls for its soul. It has to stare at its dream through inescapable glass. Just like the reflection does in the mirror. Do colors look the same to other people? What if blue for you was red for them? Then they would literally have a red sky, and they would still be calling it blue. Holly says my brain is as good as that moth. Which, I wouldn’t doubt, except I write poetry and he commits suicide by lamp
Some guy asked me if I had someone by the name of Frank sleeping in my apartment anywhere. What a freak. My neighbor says I should stock up on canned foods. He is a freak too. I think my pencil has been drinking. Satisfaction, for me, is like frozen alcohol. Holly showers too much. She is a freak. I want to drive to New York. Who am I kidding; I’m too sober to drive.
This hotel is making me go sane! Every time I lay down I hear the snore of the one’s who have slept here before me. My neighbor tells me that we are all going to be cannibals. Holly’s brain was spilling blood, so I cleaned it with quarters. This place smells like… well I can’t make out the smell exactly. Shut up Holly.
This part is not in the instructions?
…Uh…I don’t know...go away…stop reading this… You’re still here huh? I’ve drank too much solvent tonight. The casing will never get cleaned now. You probably don’t know what that is. I feel lkie cuittng fof my fingre adn puttung ut in Hlly’s wine. I’m real gone.
Part # 4
This wine tastes like the blotches on the moon. Holly says I’m the worst person that she has ever felt. Her compliments are intriguing. That moth is still desperately trying to get out of the window. I’m just going to turn on the lamp. Anti-tobacco commercials make me want to smoke a cigarette. Last night my neighbor shot his T.V. and the recoil made him fall on his head. Apparently he died or something. That’s a shame, that was a damn good television.
Part # 8
Are you even real? Are any of us even real? What is real? I see the ghost of Rimbaud sitting on the chair mocking me. Is he real? People would call me crazy, but it’s those same people who say that one guy died for us and then was resurrected from the dead by someone who supposedly created the universe. If that’s real, then where did the creator come from? I pour out all the rivers of the world onto the concrete sky. Holly says my eccentricity makes me abnormal. Is she even normal? Are any of us even normal? What is normal?
Part # 9
Normal is someone who conforms to the shackles of society. Holly says that I need to **** her more. But that’s not the hard part; the hard part is pretending that I enjoy it. At what cost does a man finally enable himself to be free? How many bottles of hard liquor does it take? How many different drugs? How many different women? How many different faces does he need to wear? I guess the better question is; how many mistakes does a man need to make before he benefits from them?
Part # 10
I am real gone. I am the static in your television. I am a creak in your house. I am a mastodon. I am extinct. I am a ghost. My mind is six feet under but my feet are still walking. I am the core of the apple. I am not the pit of a peach. I am poetry not for the masses. I am the book never to be read. I am the moth at your window. I am a mechanism. You are a mechanism. Holly is a mechanism. We are all mechanisms working together to form a machine. A selfish, ungrateful and greedy machine that will destroy the planet Earth in which we are only guests. We take advantage of this place but it does not take advantage of us. I am a phantom and these are mechanisms that keep me transparent.
We have been observing the expanse of the parched land for many years, a land that stood the test of time and captivated by myriad dreams unfolding through the footsteps of the ages thus penetrating our lives. We gazed at the vast mountains and high lands with its luscious vegetation stretching thousands of miles from across them, Autumn on one side, Summer on the other, and Spring reluctantly emerging from a gruesome Winter that paralyzed the inhabitance of nature, stripping it from its wholesome prominence while it convalesce from the battered and bruised earth.
We languished at the sudden disappearance of the water valley and the vast landscape around it. As far as our mind could reach, and as far as our feet could travel we trod upon the visible land within our reach. Land that has never been inhabited stared at us; land that has never been farmed is waiting to be ploughed. I could hear my great, great, grandfather and my grandfather before him shouting at the boys to get out of bed, harnessed the horses and start plowing the land again.
We reminisce over acres of lands that our ancestors have fought for, land that spilled blood and claim the lives of innocent souls and fearless warriors, land that expands from ten generation, stood before us bare and empty, weeping for the souls who have fought furiously to preserve them.
This land that has fed us for more than a hundred years lay waste before our naked eyes, the land that God gave us to feed the next generation has been sold out to strangers. The land is infested with dilapidated old building and at the whistle of the wind they are destined to collapse. They spread out all around the city and is inhabited by ruthless strangers and priced high despite their aging structure.
We lament the days spent on this land but foresee hope for the future. We searched for the farms, but they have disappeared, we look for the streams but they have dried up. Our bodies are polluted with toxic substance from contaminated food washing up on our shores from the other side of the globe, food unfit for human consumption have replaced the natural food on our grandfather's farm.
Oh great God that watches from every corner of the earth, extend your mercies and cause the land to flourish once more. You have given us land so that we can eat; you have given us land so that we can have enough in time of drought. You hold the universe securely in the palm of your hand and expand it so that it can reach everyone. The land is precious in your hand, no one can bargain for it and no price can be paid for it.
When everything is stripped away, and the money diminishes, when our strength fails the land is here to stay. This is the land that will feed the younger generation; this is the land that will produce our crops. Powerful God, proliferate the land once again, mend the broken edges, and rescue your children who have been doped with hatred, intoxicated with bitterness and sedated with evil desires. Empower them and eradicate the poisonous substance from their perishing souls.
We gazed at the vastness penetrating the earth, and see land waiting to be occupied exposed to brutality, exasperate with atrocities and evil works. Great big God, save your children from the open gutters and trenches that awaits them, save the mothers, their suckling and toddlers who have been ravished from their homes and recruited into ruthless activities to torment and demoralize innocent people’s minds. Save them from the snares that await them, the tribulations surrounding their homes and the pestilence that seeks after their souls.
We traveled the entire land, and hear you calling out the young men to till the ground. We can hear you beckoning the young men to throw down their weapons, clean up the garbage and farm on their grandfather’s land. They can hear you but they are too fragile to comply; they have weakened themselves with substances that make them vulnerable and unreliable. Emerge you powerless youth, transpire from your defenseless state, purge your body with clean drinking water and start cultivating the land again.
What else do we have but the land that you have given us? No one can take it away from us because it belongs to you. Strengthen the young men to till the land again and plant on fruitful ground. Bless the earth, and endorse it with your favor, thank you for this journey you are a mighty savior.
©2014 Christine Phillips
I have been praying to God ever since I first understood the concept of a deity. Although I have struggled through life with my acceptance of and belief in the religion I was force fed as a child, the praying has always stayed with me – on an almost every day basis. In some way or some form or for some reason, it seems, I find myself praying to a God I am not sure I believe in.
Over the years, some of the things I have prayed for or prayed against have worked out in my favor. Other things didn’t quite work out the way I had hoped. So, I wondered, was this proof that my prayers are sometimes answered or simply the law of averages? It really didn’t matter, I was programed to pray and so pray I do.
This has been going on pretty routinely for over 50 years; so, imagine my surprise when, for the first time last night, God talked back to me!
I may not get this exactly right, but, in essence, this is what He had to say:
(I am not sure what font to type God’s words in, so I will just keep on with the default.)
“Joe, Joe, Joe. I have been listening to you for all your life. And, whereas I do enjoy your thoughts; your words; and your sentiments; I find it is time for me to respond.
You really do pray a lot for lots of things. Mostly good and humane things. Mostly with a pure and caring heart. But, son, you need to stop doing so much praying and start doing more stuff on your own. I am not up here to make your life easier and to do things for you.
When you were young, instead of praying for that bicycle, you should have been doing chores to earn money towards buying it. You could have cut more lawns, washed more cars, got a paper route, sold lemonade, or many other things other young boys were doing to earn money for the things that they wanted.
When you were in high school and prayed to me to help you do well in your wrestling matches, you should have, instead, been working harder at practice; spent more time on your conditioning; spent more time in the weight room; and studied harder on the art of wrestling.
In college, when you prayed for help on your mid-terms and finals, you should have, instead, spent more time studying and less time partying – I think that is something you already know.
Even when you pray on behalf of others – you should be doing more.
Instead of praying I would help old Mrs. Conner at the end of your street, you should have gotten up off your butt and walked down to the end of the street and looked in on her yourself. You could have offered to go to the store for her, pick up her prescriptions or simply keep her company in her final years.
When you prayed for me to care for the starving children around the world, you should have been volunteering to help out yourself or donating more money towards this cause. If you funneled all the money you spent on unnecessary junk food and extra meals you consumed throughout the years towards charities that help feed and clothe the poor, you could have saved many of the children you prayed that I would save.
Instead of praying that I cure your family, friends and acquaintances that you knew were ill or dying, you should have been visiting them in the hospital or writing them letters or providing assistance to their loved ones to help ease their pain.
Prayer is not the vehicle for you to be lazy and yet gain the rewards. Prayer is not a means to have me do for others what you have the power and ability to do yourself.
I am glad that you talk to me, but you have been granted the ability and means to do so much more by yourself and yet you choose to take the easy way out and pray to me – the God that I know you are confused about. Please, do me a favor, and before you pray, ask yourself, ‘Have I exhausted all avenues available to me to achieve the result I want God to perform?’
If, after you have done everything you can possibly do, then I may be more willing to consider what it is you ask for.
And now, my son, you can wake up.”
I sat up quickly in my bed, sweating and confused. Was I just dreaming? Was that really God talking to me? Then, somewhere from deep inside, either from my conscious or a left-over message from the Almighty Himself, I thought (or heard): “What does it matter? Whether it was God or not – the message is valid and something I probably already knew.”
“Well,” I said to myself, in prayer, “I will give it my best. But, is it okay if we still talk? It kind of helps to give me strength?”
I will take that as a, “Yes”.