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Long poem by Louis Borgo | Details |

Why Question No Question Question Is Now

I was born on death of arrival on birth.7:01 Am,  one of the coldest days  to record,
I battle for my life for every beat to every breath I was born premature.

Being born premature I was born with learning and mental illness and despite 
Of the disadvantage I broke barriers of stereotypies and prejudices that would follow.

Why Question that it is a recession does it mean mental illness rise? 
No Question the research from
ashbournenewstelegraph co ukHomeRecession worst, blog.atoshealthcaretagof
recession on mental health, thefiscaltimes, RecessionsSilent Mental Health... would include That facts does not lie, 
Question is now who is listening. (those R website just without dot coms) 

Why Question in the headline it’s the mental ill that’s making headlines
 No Question they all ask for help put the system ignored or failure report those demeanor read between the lines…
 Question is now could that have been your family or friends so why make fun of the mental ill to feel inferior? 

Why Question they say that people with too much education is at a higher risk of become mental ill? 
No Question they say that mental ill can’t have weapons if so then why is it 1.5 million roughly in the military that has sometime mental ill with weapons? 
 Question is now that Bill Clinton stated on Cnn that gun laws will never go away because (forgive me if I miss quoted)  the voters don't hold the people they voted in office to there word to do so.

Why Question that a person got to do a violent act before you determine that there mental ill and if that is so why do we have prisoner that could be mental ill
 or, is it one in same being and state from a television host “to do violence you must be some type of mental ill” it would be simply, if he ask the first question I stated then fumble with his words No question my doctor said if you are depression more then three day then in there book a person is mental ill 
Question is now why have smoking been written in constitution or some states and you know what type of smoking I’m talking about so who is to blame.

Why Question that the medicine they give us that can make you aggressive, more violent and sometime even suicidal but when go to sue them it was not enough evidence to prove but ten years later you can’t sue because the statue of limitation but time has ran out
No Question a comedian made a joke about the same thing was it a joke or was it a movement you tell me much luv to him! 
Question is now is if a person life is more valuable  then a buck if not why is  manufaction  a G over one prescription not knowing all side effects.

Why Question what is the debt ceiling as well as the glass ceiling seems to be something to keep minority from stepping in the next class because it all revolved around money and who is usually get short stick? (the poor) 
 No Question food stamps being cut, health care require and we have been in a war or wars since I been born I guess my generation was a victim of society the Lost Generation indeed,
no wonder inmates believe government own them. Now question does this facts lie? act lies if so why is history books rewritten in college every semester? Question it now

Why Question in the bible it speaks to the effects things will never be heard or seen would happen
(1 st Corinthians 2: 9)  I paraphrase that….. No question Jeremiah 8-9 once again paraphrasing  the people that became of power and knowledge used it in the wrong way and god later destroy the city
 Now question god spoke lyrically and God creation us in his own imagine and I have research that a person can come out of depression naturally but does the doctor tell you that? 

Once again it is a small percent of mental ill that does violence and most time they are the victims. I have giving my life to science I have giving my blood for 10 years and im only 25 years old my doctor told me by year 2020 it should be cure for my disease being born which such a disability may you know I gave my life to science so child like me will never know of harass words to endure.....

I will probably die before 30 or 40 because of malpractice and my disease Why question, No Question, Question is Now what is the definition of crazy and that of mental ill? 
My last statement is, I am the not only person that speak out for mental illness October is mental ill awareness would you like to say you spoke for reason? better yet chance.... 
(a poet and still running)


Long poem by little known nothing | Details |

Tell Him, please don't read if you are offended about words against God

She's dying over and over again
From the insanity of the missing 
The heart will repair 
Though I wouldn't dare say this
At the sky she stares
Continuously
She says life must go on
I must go on

I don't want to be without him she says
As she opens the second bottle of vodka 
If I'd had a choice I'd of gone with him
But I'd never wish for him to ever feel 
This crushing feeling
Not for a instance

In the night she thinks I'm sleeping
But I hear everything

Dear God
I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time ?
I know your a busy bloke and that,  
your tired with all these voices shouting up at you, 
I would be too.
But I thought I'd give it a go.
I know your the universal spirit and there's  lots on your mind, 
so I tell you what I'll talk and you can just listen, 
give me your views at the end.

I was wondering if you've looked in on me lately
See God 
I'm feeling incredibly unhappy, 
Distraught you could say, 
miserably alone.
I know there's millions probably billions 
I don't know the average, 
but no matter.
I know there's other's wanting your attention,
The people dying from cancer or 
The African village women screaming for you to stop the men taking their kids, 
Putting them on smack to fight there twisted gorilla wars.
Our boys in Afghanistan getting maimed and slaughtered.

So firstly I was wondering if it's normal to feel this way ?
You see I think of him so much he enters my dreams as soon as I close my eyes,
Is this your doing ?
Tell me what I have to do to stop this fog,
Tell me when I reach the other side I'll still be me,
Tell me it's ok to still cry silently,  without even knowing,
Then, 
Tell me how to stop the tears,
Tell me,  if this ache in my chest relieves,
Tell me,  I'm standing this pain to be with him again,
Go on tell me ??!!!

I'm so alone I bet you got all the Angels up there keeping you company, 
Hay I thought they were supposed to be down here looking after us ?
Point is, the real point is
You got something of mine and I want it back.


You took all my grandparents without asking,
Let them all die of cancer slowly before their time, all of them.
By the way I think you've had enough cancer out of my family thankyou very much,
Do you feed off it ?
You took my dog when I was little, 
Your know the one, scruffy little Jack rustle up there running about,
He's a proper little cracker.
Missed him awfully I did
You took my dad three times on the operating table, 
but he's still here.
It was like holding your breath for six weeks every time he went through those shiny metal doors, 
I mean what sort of a sick joke is that ?
"You can have him"
"No you can't"
"You can have him"
"I want him back"
It felt like I had aeroplane ear, 
All five of us living in an empty house moving around each other like ghosts.
If the bible's true you should know all this.
But I got an idea you haven't looked in on me at all.

I'm not blaming you, well I am sort of, 
I think your a really good bloke but took too much on,
We all do it now and then don't we.
I mean the church wrote your book didn't it, 
It's really down to Matthew , Mark , Luke, and John,
you should really send them boys down here,
I know a lot of people who want a word with them.
They're responsible for war, 
Famine and mass genocide,
Because be honest all wars start at religion one way or another don't they.

I bet if you felt one second of what I feel,
He would still be beside me, and the empty feeling,
I couldn't give a  name to would disappear.
The aftermath of such evil wars wouldn't of happened.
I don't believe you would still let our boys in Afghanistan get themselves blown up and shot in the head
I don't believe,
If you felt an instance of this loss
You would've of let Osama bin Laden get away with all the lives he took on 9/11.
The Jews getting gassed and thrown in pits of thousands

I'm Sorry I've gone off track,
What I was saying is, 
my dad told me if he'd of died when he got kidney failure 
It's God's will.
Well if it's your will, 
Do me a favour and send my husband back 
I wasn't finished with him yet.

And if you can't do that,
Tell him something for me,
Tell him I love him,
But lie, say I'm ok.
Say I'm getting by,
I got sleeping tablets off the doc,
Say I'm almost happy.
Not to worry.
Tell him I'm rushing towards death for him,
That I've stocked up on vodka.
God, tell him I'll be there soon.











Long poem by Gina Young | Details |

Mating of the Rich and Famous

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Long poem by Meredith Manley | Details |

Frozen Soul Within Her Heart

    Frozen Soul Within Her Heart-  
	  She's Terrified to Feel  

Her shadowed past still haunts her-
each night as every light-
fades back into the darkness,
as ghostly beings rise.
She gave her heart to someone,
and promised ne'er to change,
the feelings that belonged to him,
and ne'er her heart to age.
Yet in her own desires,
and every wond'ring dream-
the aspirations that she felt,
would only cause him pain.
He swore he'd never leave her,
and that he'd love her true-
that every day he'd wait for her,
and no one else would do.
Within a year that promise he'd broke,
as he- lost in his passion-
danced and wooed another girl,
and soon was holy wedded.
As any foolish girl would do-
she continued to hold on to-
the memories and the broken dreams,
and the promise of “I do.” 
Looking back she now can see,
that neither of them were,
perfect for the other-
but the feelings still remain.
And truly in all thankfulness,
she escaped a nightmare vow-
But still it often feels,
as if his own opinion,
left her feeling as if-
no one really wants her.
And in reacting to the pain-
the broken hearts and dreams,
the bitter end of being wanted-
and loved for who she is,
she seems to be the girl that leaves,
that can't remain in place-
because if chance should open her heart-
she's terrified of what that might mean.
If she remains in a single place,
and watches his children be born,
or slowly recognize the fact,
that another is creating a heart-storm,
she's terrified that she'll learn to feel-
and have to once again,
give way to emotions bigger-
that she won't be able to reign in.
she's scared that if she'd stayed
she'd forget to learn to fly-
that she may lose the desire-
to escape the poisoned night.
That if she'd stay the constant sight-
of friends so close to her,
will eventually get lost among the thoughts,
of wanting something more to be.
Already she's been used and tossed,
a toy thrown in the wind,
a passing thought of shape and form,
to ne'er be thought of again.
Yet, even beyond that there are a few-
who seem to follow her every move,
who seem to wish that she was theirs',
and that “their” story would be the Truth.
she's scared that if she'll stay,
these emotions will actually get in her way-
and those people who she calls-
her friends and respects,
will become so much more
than any of that.
As crazy or weird-
as any of that may be,
she's scared that she'll mess up-
the friends she has around her.
That she will become this stalking girl,
the ex's worst nightmare in real life unfurled.
Time is said to heal the wounds,
how much time- no one really knows.  
Her darkest deepest secrets, 
her hidden- longing fears-
are silent as the grave,
yet always whispering in her ear.
She doesn't want to be a toy,
a object for the rest of her life,
an image that guys can idolize,
at a “never commit to” pace. 
She's scared that she'll end up,
lonely and lost and old,
the old spinster, old maid, old friend,
that watches her siblings kids.
As friend after friend,
or acquaintances too,
readily pair up and leave,
She's left to watch their progress,
and wonder when it will be 'me'.
She's so deeply deeply lonely,
the pain inside her chest,
is palpable and tangible,
although she keeps it hid.
And all of these emotions,
are locked up inside of her,
no one knows that she's so lost,
or confused as some don't believe her to be.
She's terribly lost, confused, and small,
and is it so wrong to want it all?
To be loved and touched and thought about,
above all others and cared for throughout?
Maybe someday, when she's 74-
sitting in a rocker outside of her door,
her 'lonely' path won't seem as bad,
as it does this night- as she sits on her bed,
and wonders and waits and wishes away,
but all of this pain- seems is her permanent mate. 
And so she's left to simply breathe-
and fight and claw each day-
to find the strength to continue-
as she desperately cries and prays.
And beneath all of the surface, 
below the sunny sky-
frozen soul within her heart,
she's terrified to feel.

~Meredith A. Manley


Long poem by Timothy Jacks | Details |

My Grandfathers Dying Wish

See problems they no worry Timothy
He was raised by his Great Grandmother
One day she taught him
Miho you can make life beautiful or ugly
Work hard, find a woman who has a strong back
Beauty fades it doesn’t last long
Now let me tell you 
A woman with a strong back may not be your perfect companion
Times are changing, I think Faith is more important these days
I say okay Grandma, can I have the horachata now that you made me
No hush up! You can have it when I’m finished talking
Timothy come your poor Grandfather wanted you to have this
It is his Journal and I have never read out of it
She hands it to me
I am struck by it’s cover, it is brown and plain
Yet it spoke to me by it’s elegant style
These words were printed on the cover “Blanco Vendetta”
I was drawn and pulled in untill I was covered by the spell
The first page I open too it says “My first Mil Besos”
The Temptess that blew my heart away
I turn to page 33
It says “The story of an Apache Warrior”
There are no rules to an Apache Warrior when it comes to fighting
He says if you are my enemy I don’t care how but I’m gonna kill you
Page 41 is like a fist full of words thrown across the page
Barrio boxing, The protection of the Shield of Faith
Brokenhearted for my careless speech has left her heartbroken
Strengthened by Love “Amor”
Nourished by the sunshine in her hand
There is healing in its beams
Blessed by her presence Del Dios I am Greatful
I’m like Grandpa what did you say wrong
Then these words come to me
Give her your full attention when she speaks to you
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
So I close it and my finger brushes a bookmark
It’s the Last page
It says To: “Timothy my son who is as mighty as an army”
I Thank you for the Greatest Gift
For the Greatest Gifts are as small as your small hand that touched me
I plant these seeds and they will take root and grow because you are good ground
Timothy let me say That without you I would of never found my Faith in GOD
Listen for it is your Grandfather who is dead and speechless
Timothy you see the good in everything
And I know you will understand my words clearly
If a man gives you his word
Promise me not to plan your future on it
And if you give your word my son
Do everything in your Power to fulfill it
AND NEVER Promise more than you can deliver 
For it is better to put out more than you promised
Everyman is considered unwise when he appears foolish
I wish I could give you some insight about women
But your Great Grandmother may help you better than I can
But never timothy, Never be quick to fall in Love 
Or give your heart to a woman
Listen carefully to her words when she speaks to you
Cherish Her give her your full undue attention 
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
Love your neighbors as yourself
And do not strive against another man
If he has done nothing wrong to offend you
AS much as it is possible live peacefully with all men
And it is okay for you to speak these things with your Great Grandmother
She is a very wise and God-fearing woman
Amor take the greatest care of her, I Love you Son
Timothy when the time comes to avenge my death
Hit harder then you ever have before
But not in a Duel son, not like an open Vendetta
Marry his daughter Maria
The one who is pretty and Two years younger than you
Oh! He will suffer greatly!
And it will kill him to know that I chose this way to repay him
And remember son to be ready to fight any man at the drop of a hat


Long poem by S.T Nchindo | Details |

I Pray For Mother

 Taken from the Novel, ''The Thirteenth Year''  By S.T Nchindo

Dear mother
I seek no special day
I need no remainder
I set no alarm
To bring you to thoughts
Each day, I know you are gone
My heart soars with sadness and fear,
Secret tears still flow


Your departure was so soon
My desire was to see you each day
Oh, mother!
Does it really have to be you?
Death, depart from Mothers
They are irreplaceable
Life so special
Our home we shared,
Is never the same

Thy blood, in my vein doth flow
My gratitude, thus remain eternally
Thy labour, I had food
Thy love, I walked with no shame
Thy understanding, I had education
Oh, mother!
You were simply the best


Mother
You gave life to me
In your shadow, I had shade
You called me Mother.
For I carried Grandmother’s name
Oh, mother!
It is a feeling well cherished
It felt so great
Who will call me that again?
I forbid my thoughts to go deep
For the deeper it goes, the more it hurts
I had solace,
For your voice never parted with my ears
In my dreams, you remain featured

My sister and I are heartbroken
However, we are all grown up,
Death has no right
You passed on,
No sight of your grandchildren
Could you have hanged around for a while?
They do something for you
Fetch water or call you grandma

My spirit soars
You aren’t returning
My time is fleeting
My journey just begun
Soon will be joining
Aren’t afraid of death no more
For my journey's end is certain
There, I shall find shelter
Jesus, my Sheppard
Will lead me home
My eye shall delight by thy sight
Talking and laughing
Just like we used to 

Death is victorious,
Yes, for now.
The stage, so irreparable
Even to God, it is irreversible.
It is not well with my soul
It aren’t easy, lesson ought to start
To miss you
To live without you
Surely, my spirit is willing.

                                                
Even after life is gone Mother
In my heart, your unconditional love lingers on.
Even after, you have left my sight
My thoughts, your light shines brightly
Even after you are gone
In my memory, you forever live on

Because!
In life, I loved you mother,
In death, I still love you
I have done my part
I have spoken to God
He answered saying,
“I only take the best.”

  My lesson is complete
  Your life is celebrated Mother
I have peace in my heart
For I am reconciled by God’s mercy
My father in heaven comforted me
Now I know you are happy there
The pain I felt
The pain that tortured me
Was just fleeting
It’s never coming back
Brief was our meeting
And brief was my pain 

You departed with all my tears
With all my strength
With all my hope
And with all my faith
 God gave me a thousand reasons to smile
Your life, is a life well lived
Rest in peace dear mother,
It was the will of God
Who am I to question him?
I never did when you were given to me
Somehow, I knew this day would come

I have grown, I know
Split salt is never all gathered
Split milk is never gathered
I vow to carry thy love
Thy desire for me I carry along
I cannot bring back the golden years
I have lost life so precious.
Heaven has gained.
Farewell dear mother
Our meeting is certain
Our meeting is soon

To my God, and my King 
I honour you
You called her to peace
Away from this world of confusion
In that land, hearts will never break 
This I know	
For the bible tells me so


Long poem by S.T Nchindo | Details |

I Pray For Mother

 Taken from the Novel, ''The Thirteenth Year''  By S.T Nchindo

Dear mother
I seek no special day
I need no remainder
I set no alarm
To bring you to thoughts
Each day, I know you are gone
My heart soars with sadness and fear,
Secret tears still flow


Your departure was so soon
My desire was to see you each day
Oh, mother!
Does it really have to be you?
Death, depart from Mothers
They are irreplaceable
Life so special
Our home we shared,
Is never the same

Thy blood, in my vein doth flow
My gratitude, thus remain eternally
Thy labour, I had food
Thy love, I walked with no shame
Thy understanding, I had education
Oh, mother!
You were simply the best


Mother
You gave life to me
In your shadow, I had shade
You called me Mother.
For I carried Grandmother’s name
Oh, mother!
It is a feeling well cherished
It felt so great
Who will call me that again?
I forbid my thoughts to go deep
For the deeper it goes, the more it hurts
I had solace,
For your voice never parted with my ears
In my dreams, you remain featured

My sister and I are heartbroken
However, we are all grown up,
Death has no right
You passed on,
No sight of your grandchildren
Could you have hanged around for a while?
They do something for you
Fetch water or call you grandma

My spirit soars
You aren’t returning
My time is fleeting
My journey just begun
Soon will be joining
Aren’t afraid of death no more
For my journey's end is certain
There, I shall find shelter
Jesus, my Sheppard
Will lead me home
My eye shall delight by thy sight
Talking and laughing
Just like we used to 

Death is victorious,
Yes, for now.
The stage, so irreparable
Even to God, it is irreversible.
It is not well with my soul
It aren’t easy, lesson ought to start
To miss you
To live without you
Surely, my spirit is willing.

                                                
Even after life is gone Mother
In my heart, your unconditional love lingers on.
Even after, you have left my sight
My thoughts, your light shines brightly
Even after you are gone
In my memory, you forever live on

Because!
In life, I loved you mother,
In death, I still love you
I have done my part
I have spoken to God
He answered saying,
“I only take the best.”

  My lesson is complete
  Your life is celebrated Mother
I have peace in my heart
For I am reconciled by God’s mercy
My father in heaven comforted me
Now I know you are happy there
The pain I felt
The pain that tortured me
Was just fleeting
It’s never coming back
Brief was our meeting
And brief was my pain 

You departed with all my tears
With all my strength
With all my hope
And with all my faith
 God gave me a thousand reasons to smile
Your life, is a life well lived
Rest in peace dear mother,
It was the will of God
Who am I to question him?
I never did when you were given to me
Somehow, I knew this day would come

I have grown, I know
Split salt is never all gathered
Split milk is never gathered
I vow to carry thy love
Thy desire for me I carry along
I cannot bring back the golden years
I have lost life so precious.
Heaven has gained.
Farewell dear mother
Our meeting is certain
Our meeting is soon

To my God, and my King 
I honour you
You called her to peace
Away from this world of confusion
In that land, hearts will never break 
This I know	
For the bible tells me so


Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

Circle of Life - A Pet Story

It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
   his untimely end.

He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends.  I do care.”

Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.

So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?


We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.

Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.

He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.

“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.

And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…

There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight 
   to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.

“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy.  You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats.  It’s up to you”.

As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred.  I almost cried.

On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.

But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.

But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.

For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea, 
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me.  Please, take me”.

“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.

In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.

Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.


Long poem by Alfred Vassallo | Details |

Chasing a Rabbit Soft Toy

Destiny made me the last one 
out of a six pack family,
I don’t know how I found mum’s tit 
but I did, thankfully.

I was born white with black patches all over, 
I was very cute
unlike my brothers and sisters 
who frequently gave me the boot.

I was always playing by myself 
though mum joined in my fun too
she was a big and agile creature, 
once she told me I was tried and true.

It wasn’t long before I was separated,
knowing not what future it will bring
I only missed my big and agile mother 
from the beginning I wasn’t one for quibbling.

That they I left I was given the name Jack
I was still very young but made to work hard,
early in the mornings sprinting and chasing,
chasing and sprinting often taken off guard.

Few months later I was sold to a new owner
a kind man who named me Meadows Joker
by this time I was getting good at my job
I was going well without the need of a choker.

I have passed my trials with flying colours
I was not judged classy just good for my grade
the first task came on a Monday evening,
I was very excited and posed well at the parade.

The flag went up and the rabbit was on the run
the gates opened unfortunately I was left behind
I was ashamed of myself and couldn’t face the man
who came a patted me, obviously he didn’t mind.

Next time I will do well and make him very proud
my chance came a week later installed in trap three
I was on the alert and as the gates opened I flew out,
unfortunately the one next to me bumped me free.

I was angry and furious but also disappointed
when I fell I hit my bottom, oh my, oh my I was in pain
my master again was very helpful and understanding
rubbing some cream on my bum to ease the strain.

Third time lucky so the saying goes and I believed it
the next race I was entered I won so easily and with pride
I saw the owner laughing coming straight to me full of kisses
I was full of emotion and in all honesty I also cried.

I ran ninety nine races in all and winning seventeen of them
at fours years old I injured my hock not severely but painful
the master did not hesitate and he retired me instantly
taking me to his home as his pet, to me he was so faithful.

I lived with him and his wife until I was thirteen years old,
I was cared for, fed properly and loved as if I was their son
I could see him heartbroken and dismayed when I died
being the runt of the family only I was the loved one. 

Please note Meadows Joker was truly my greyhound and all that I stated in this poem is factual. I confess that when I wrote the last stanza a tear popped out of my eye. I truly loved him and I still miss him.
Penned Wednesday 16th July 2014 and I dedicate this poem to all pet lovers.
Meadows died on Thursday 25th February 2010 at 17.10.







Long poem by James Clark | Details |

The Babaji Wheelbarrow

It was a dry, dusty day when I saw the wheelbarrow, with long handles made of dark wood. 
The wheel is struggling as it carries its burden, but it manages the job that it should. The man pushing appears to be crying, his eyes all puffy and red. It’s time to move on, but I wait,  I wait for him to reach me instead. The wheelbarrow has a dark green cover, such a sickly, metallic sweet smell underneath,  such a heavy lump in my throat,  “don’t lift the cover!” but regardless, I pull back it back to see.
The first thing to strike me, such a tiny hand, tiny fingers all bent into a fist, and an inch below there in my big gloved hand, the smallest most delicate wrist. Her face is held together by bright orange thread, her eyes are searching the stars. Her crown should still be there, on that beautiful head, where she lays, crumpled up inside her Dads cart. I put back the cover, swallow hard and just stand there, my head, Jesus Christ I can’t think,  my pounding heart tearing itself apart inside my trained body, at this beautiful little angel in pink. 
Her father, his eyes screaming toward me sobs gently, silent rage and yet deafening shock. Why can’t I bring myself to look into this man’s eyes, oh Lord, grant me some breath that I may talk. To say sorry, to ask why, to just speak in his tongue, to show him that I really care. I realise that I could never find words, I’ve no such tragedy to compare.
I walked away from the blue wheelbarrow, thinking that I could leave it behind. But every night as my daughter hugged me, that wheelbarrow crashed into my mind. Whenever she cried my stomach went tight, when she laughed those dark clouds disappeared, whenever she told me she loved me, I knew that I had nothing to fear, but yet so much. The wheelbarrow changed me forever, drank me to illness, and brought my whole life to the edge. I couldn’t switch off from that sweet smell, and I couldn’t explain that to friends. 
 I will never forget, such a small wrist in my hand, such beautiful soft lips kissing the sky. Such a pretty pink little dress, though stained red with blood, those clear and lifeless brown eyes. I wish that I had asked for her name, what to call that three year old victim of war, so small and so beautiful with those innocent eyes, my body aches that I can’t wish so any more.
If I could explain to people, about my demons, in one image to make them understand. I’d draw that blue wheelbarrow with the green cover on top, and that sweet delicate wrist in my hand. Two days after the wheelbarrow I became a Father and to my comfort, for the rest of my life I will know. No matter how often the wheelbarrow returns, I have my daughter, here for me to hold.


Long Poems