Long poem by
Victoria Anderson-Throop | Details |
FIRST GLANCE EMBRACE
She grabbed his voice
Though conference din
Sought to win his gaze--
But crowds of gabbers tottered in...
He missed the sexy nod she sent his way--
Distracted by a phone call--faded from his day.
But oh, that face....
Would not be gone....
of passion's eyes--
Fate teased in him
Brash Upward Plans--
Of course, his heart must be attached--
Her stubborn mind
holds fast to dreams,
bows to Fate--
but loathe to schemes....
In sultry dreams
The night is theirs
Palm to Palm--
All answered Prayers.
Besieged by bliss--
of moonlit kiss
she Owns his Face
sweet charmed caressing
that leaves no trace
but silent blessing
Over a shoulder
behind a pole
he saw a face
that grabbed his soul
wild hair so red
his heart caught fire
hands of grace
could capture choirs
Laugh of bells
tolled 'cross the hall
just as he moved
he had a call--
stepped out in search of quiet space,
cut short his call
yet lost her face--
She was gone...
a f_cking awful
He's lost his chance,
in town One Night.
Her essence brands,
Flays bare his heart--
But business swirls
tho' hard to place
She is a tune he can't erase
the Dreamers tryst
shake clouds above
She nuzzles love
and slips o-er him
in Passion's Glove.
Long poem by
James W Johnson | Details |
January 1, 1863
My Dear Miss Holly Winegardner,
Today is the first day of our Lord eighteen hundred sixty-three and its passing marks by calendar a lamentable separation from you of more than two years. After so long a time, can you possibly hold in remembrance the day I left you on the train in Columbus? I remember it well - far better than you can imagine.
As this war has taught me, some visions that cross the viewing of a man’s eye paint themselves on canvas that may very well outlive his own natural life. The vision of that wet winter day, the noises of the train, the sounds of so many goodbyes, the comfort of falling snow, and mostly, the way you touched the back of my hand and said, “Fare thee well, Mr. Johnson.” No awful nor fine fancy could ever rub out that moment from my mind.
Whether there be a heaven or a hellfire, that memory shall remain long after I am no more. It will continue as if it were made of stone or starlight, whichever be the stoutest. And there, resting upon creation’s most reliable foundations, no destruction, no new earth nor new heaven shall sweep it away.
That vision, blessed by your smallest of hands, has become my constant, Miss Holly. How can this be? I ask myself. Such a tender, soft hand cannot alimony a soldier’s life, hundreds of miles away. And yet, it is as true as any daffodil.
I shall not assault you, tender Lady, with the horrors of this conflict but I must mention a matter of special interest. We are presently camped just south of the Tennessee River resting our horses and tending our wounded. An engagement yesterday on McLemore’s Road cost us dearly and our entire brigade of 1800 men could have been lost were it not for our Devil General, Bedford Forrest.
We were destroying railway in west Tennessee when our position was uncovered by a Yankee brigade led by one General Cyrus Durnhum. He set up a line of defense near a small place called Parker’s Crossing - a store and a few houses actually, no more. We immediately attacked them with artillery and my company secured our left flank with dismounted troops. The Federals were surprised at our ferocity and fell back amongst some trees, taking a stand behind a split rail fence. They commenced to pour hot lead into our ranks.
Meanwhile, General Forrest sent other troops around the right flank which caused the enemy to reverse their position and fall back further south. Then the General began to parlay a surrender from them. But while that was taking place, an entire Ohio brigade surprised us from the north. Three hundred of our men were captured immediately. Fortunately, none were of my command.
I, and other officers, were with Forrest when word came of the Ohioans coming at us from the North. It appeared that we were completely surrounded. When one of the young officers told the General that, and asked what we should do, old Forrest’s face got red as the heart of a Louisiana beet and he shouted, “Charge them both ways!”
Well, this excited us to no end and the General took me and seventy-five men from my company and we attacked the Ohio left flank. (It appeared that the only ones who knew we were surrounded, was us.)
We yelled and fired with such a fuss, the Ohio boys moved back into a defensive position. With that, our force began to rush by the bewildered Durnham to the south. Expecting to be overrun and not realizing our dilemma, he allowed us to fly by without the good manners of a single By-Your-Leave.
Those Ohio men came at us strong, Miss Holly, and I thought of your brothers, Scott and Jay, knowing that they enlisted with the Ohio Federals not long after my absence from Columbus.
Those men were led by Colonel John W. Fuller. I sincerely hope that your brothers were not among them. I would be forever a deplorable person in your eyes, if I were to bring sadness of this nature into your life.
There is talk that the war will soon be over, Miss Holly. Such a possibility seems outside any hope, so enduring and endless is this conflict. Yet, it must cease someday, I suspect. However, its soon-nest is a matter best settled by brighter minds than my own.
It is my hope, however, that afterward, if our separation and this war have not destroyed any chances to bring us together, that we will stand again at Black Hand Gorge on your father’s farm. Then, in the clear light of day, I hope to tell you my true feelings and the deepest longings in my heart for a future with you.
War is a hopeless thing, Miss Holly, cruel and unforgiving. There is no place for peaceful plans. Yet, I harbor one, and only one, secreted away so far that it is sometimes beyond even my reach.
So, until my return, provided I survive these present hostilities, I will think upon your tender hand as it rested on mine two years ago. Such a small thing, that moment. however, it is a vivid image to me, and its memory must suffice a rebel soldier of little rank in a senseless, bloody war.
Yours Most Sincerely,
Captain Jas W. Johnson
8th Tennessee Cavalry
Company E, Commanding, CSA
Long poem by
James W Johnson | Details |
February 27, 1861
My Dear Miss Holly Winegardner,
After saying goodbye to you, Johnny Birdeye and I traveled from Columbus to Nashville by train, then west to Memphis arriving home two days ago. Johnny’s family was glad to have him back and were grateful to me for going to Ohio to fetch him for them. You and I did not talk about young Johnny while I was there in Newark so perhaps I should tell you how I came to journey so far north and to eventually meet you.
As I mentioned in our passing conversations, I live on our family farm on Crawley’s Ridge in Arkansas. It is located some fifty miles west of Memphis on a ridge overlooking the Mississippi River basin. Our farm belonged to Mr. Raymond Bennett Dobbins, my mother’s second husband, until his death eight years ago. It amounts to about five hundred acres now, including the acreage of my father's farm, of mostly rolling, hilly land - a great deal of it wooded and untamed, but filled with a variety of lakes and natural springs. That which is arable provides deep rooting for generous orchards and vineyards. We farm some and graze some but mostly fruit out the land as much as possible.
Every year, we load some ten wagons with fruits, vegetables and nuts, and travel to Memphis several times for money crops during the harvest season. There is never enough to sell and we are constantly clearing land for more orchard space. We raise a variety of apples, plums, peaches, cherries, pears, apricots and persimmon. Our pecans are widely known, and sought after even in an area with an abundance of such nuts. We have several vineyards of grapes for jams, jellies, and wines. Even wild muscadine grapes are in abundance. We also have a wonderful stable of horses and, as you know, this is my passion.
As I told your father while in Ohio, my mother married Mr. Dobbins, after my father’s death, on the condition that there be no slaves kept by him. At the time, he owned some fifty slaves and willingly freed them so that Mother would accept his proposal. Most of them moved away to Memphis and some further west but a few remained on our place, and worked along side the rest of the family. I will tell you sometime of John, our blacksmith, and Ethel, his wife, of Alice, who works in our home with my mother. Of young Tobacco Dobbins, my friend as a child, who now lives in California, having taken muscadine grapes there to grow. He has become quite a legend there and we are all proud of him.
Johnny Birdeye’s family lives in the basin at the eastern foot of Crawley’s Ridge bordering our property. Their spread is vast covering thousands of acres of timber and at least a thousand acres of cotton farming. Johnny is younger than me by a few years, and in some ways not very mature for his age. Perhaps it is due to his upbringing in a rich family; perhaps it is just the way he is.
A year ago, he left home with a gypsy girl, and it has taken the family this long to locate him and to dispatch me to Ohio to bring him home. I think he grew up some in this year, and realized that not everything in life is as it seems - meaning the girl was already married and leading him on. Perhaps I have said too much even now.
Miss Holly, it is a trying time in which we live. Since Lincoln’s election, so much has transpired. South Carolina’s secession followed by so many other southern states is unbelievable. If Lincoln is inaugurated in March, there will likely be a fight. There is talk that my own beloved state will resign the Union in the spring.
More chilling is the cold aspect of war. Many of my friends are arranging to travel to Little Rock or Fort Smith in case such a terrible turn brings us to incivility.
The Birdeye family has a friend in Memphis whose name is Bedford Forrest. He is a plantation owner and slave trader, but says that he will build a fighting unit, if war breaks out. Mr Birdeye has offered to introduce me to Mr. Forrest, and I have considered it. Given my attention to horse flesh and Mr. Forrest’s expectation that he will raise a cavalry brigade, I am leaning toward such a prospect.
Please understand that I want no part of war - it is a horrid thing to take a life. But, if we are invaded, as I told your father I will be compelled to defend our home.
This is not the letter I sought to write to you, Miss Holly. I wanted to tell you about my time with you and how I felt since I saw you last. I wanted to tell you about my home, for I wondered how you would like it here. Though warmer, it is somewhat like your rolling hills in Ohio. Perhaps you will consider visiting us some time; my mother would love to meet you.
Yours most sincerely,
Jas. W. Johnson,
-late of Ohio,
-now on Crawley’s Ridge near Cherry Valley,
-and west of Memphis.
Long poem by
betty njie | Details |
This is not a perfect story, its a feeling that i just want to share with you. I need HELP
The love i show to everyone in my surrounding, its just rediculous the way have trained myself to become or should i just say its my character thats how i am. I hate it when i cry for nothing, its just that i cant get it, do i have to be perfect to earn something in life. Am a good dancer, a good writer as well as a good person, but what have i earned in these living nothing absolutly nothig. Have plied myself to be thee who loves all and never attempt to hate any even thoes who have shown me hatred. Deep in me i feel the agony something somewhere in my daily living is not satisfied have allow my instincts to believe that its just the human strategy we are never satisfied and can never truly and pratically be satisfied, but in my case its a bit different. I miss love, looking at the whole situation properly i cant tell who loves me and who really hates me devastating anomly. The history of my life carries untold stories within its path, i dont even know who truly i am. One thing that am very sure of is that i am always there for thoes whom i feel am bound to be there for although i could be somewhere else. In tears i sometimes sit to ask why, why do i have to be these way. Am so mean to myself as the ones am so hardly trying to be a help of, at a moment i hate myself so much that i dont want to exsist anymore, i wish to be another somebody of somewhere. Just because i couldnt once make it right to the ones i feel bound to help. I am a lost soul screaming loud for attention at some point i can explode if i could, there is such much going on in my head i have issues that i want to talk about things that i just cant keep to myself. Thanks to writing i can state it down. This is a rapid that have ever since search to write about about but i just could figure it out. I really cant tell weather my own mother loves to talk less of my dad or my boyfriend. My motto, never have up the fight for love, deep inside me am gone, empty and lost, but in my heart i know i can make things happen and watch myself work wonders i believe that. It might be hard to understand if you cant feel what am feeling in me but am completely lost. Do i even have talents? i dont know i have no idea, what i think is am just that loser that dont want to accept her destiny. There is nothing i repeat nothing in this world that cant be solved, my soul is longing for satisfaction love and nothing but the truth. The big thank you i always carry around in me goes to thee the almighty thee who created man from a thick clot of blood and gave hime life despite all what he know that would happen, who has given me the chance to live a life. Suddenly am starting to see life with a different eye than i normally used to as i am writing this,have just figured out life is me, i am my life its only me that can make myself feel just the right way i deserve to feel. Have made so many wrong dicisions, gone through so many hard ways that i could have actually safe myself from. Have given away my last penny to make another fellow feel happy and like me for thoes moments, have thrown my pride away to make a boy fall for my adventurious way, have hurt someones feeling to make another one like me, have done so many harm to myself and others. I just dont know where to head to sometimes i just feel like i should just kill myself and free my thoughts but then I always have this tiny voice in my head that always reminds me of Gods love and it works everytime, thats just what keeps me moving anytime i want to turn back. Have written a manuscript that carries living in it but its still in my laptop. At a certain point i thought putting down 28 pills in my tiny body could save by story, totally wrong thought am stronger than that. SAVE MY STORY.
What happens when you feel so lost, so devastated knowing that no one seems to be understanding your situation. When the whole world turns their backs on you, you feel empty, its a terrible feeling.
Wanting to become a somebody to make a certain person in your life happy, a wish that appears not to becoming true, wanting to publish your first book at the age of 20 but you almost 20 and nothing.
Long poem by
Darian Rehder | Details |
The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.
She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too.
She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before
And growing darker day by day
But she wouldn't let that stop her.
Suddenly a year had passed... and then two
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand
The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.
She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself
She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.
That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.
She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared, and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying
Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn
Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!
And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here
So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?
Long poem by
Audonus Taylor | Details |
My false reality is a normal man,
owned by financial security, slave to
the essentials and more, much
My desired existence is that of an
a wordsmith, a bard, a writer with
beyond measure and degrading
Lately, the two overlap and become
for sake of survival...
Concrete floors, blistered feet, and a
that I have given up on the dream,
the one goal that keeps me above
Though my effort surpasses most
general laborers, I feel the normalcy
taking hold of and overshadowing
the life I need,
the existence that calls to me like a
the nights when settling seems too
And I break my back and bruise my
so life does not implode before me.
Still, I feel the disgust in my core, in
my being, and all the signs point to
acceptance of truth.
The rejection letters, the sugar-
coated no, and
the silence that lingers past waking
into the foundation of my
How do I compete with failure?
A question that kills the confidence
over years of painting my soul on
Should I be meant to be "average",
Should I be destined to be a lost
never found the title I so desperately
Why do these words come to me so
Why do I bleed ink and bandage the
in hours of devoted creativity that
from nowhere less than a place that
soothes like home to a veteran
Do I lack conviction or skill?
All the questions are there with no
real answer to soothe my ache to
touch the impossible.
My life is in the hands of other's who
me as a waste of time for a
No insight into my work past a few
No knowledge of my struggle past a
And the silence, the god damned
is a toddler seeing death for the first
A constant and typical experience
me down to a weeping infant prone
Fear that is born of a man reaching
for purpose but grasping only the
of air stained by nothingness, the
The damage, is not for the fragile of
mind or heart, and it lasts until it has
reason not to.
It's the kind of damage that rips
very spirit of a man to the point of
mental illness and a longing to lose
Yet the pain acts as motivation to do
to "be" more...with no direction
a first step to any path or road right
And the urge to give up multiplies to
undeniable and unbearable
Like a victim to an attacker,
Just a means to survive and
of the shame of being broken in
Yet through it all, I work...
Then I do what comes naturally...
I cling to the hope that I am what I
I clench the idea that my words
And I survive on selling my time, my
for eating and living long enough to
my voice, the one that will hold their
and capture their eyes in the gaze of
My reality sits on my chest and rides
slowly sinking shoulders...
It's the nightmare made too vividly
but seems essential to this false
And though this is the only life I can
It is the words that still remain as
real to me
as the first moment I discovered
And for this reason, I swallow my
and continue to try past the hidden
tears of disappointment.
The tears that I fear may someday
confuse my eyes about where I am
and where I want to be.
Long poem by
J. W. M. Earnings | Details |
I hope you can be so
kind to hand me the
rope of hope for
Waiting for Your
Life will never get
Difficulty will come
our way in a jiffy
Believe me…when I
I had the time of my
life, stepping out
of the abyss
Doing the impossible
It was incredible –
I was handsome and I
In your eyes…in your
possible if you put
your mind to it
You and I will get
out of the poverty,
Unchain me from this
Look at me…look at
I need God’s healing
It’s driving me
I’m reaching out for
His rain to make me
whole again – to
bring back my sanity
– to wash away my
The pain’s driving
I see happy-go-lucky
birds roam free
beyond my barred
Loving you, in times
of tribulation and
solitude, is harder
than it seems
How can I mend your
broken wings and
comes our way no
Forgiveness is hard
to accept from deep
Sinful lusts hit me
day in and day out
I’m feeling corrupt
in my skin
Don’t walk away from
Don’t wage war with
them and shimmer
like rainbow gems
Used to be with you
once upon a time,
You loathed me and
envied me from the
I easily fell for
you and it was, at
My eager eyes watch
you…feel the slow
and fast rhythm of
my aching heart
Your freezing fire
and I’m scorching
I can’t say no to
you or walk away
from you – my role
in this relationship
is to be your living
sacrifice and pay
Roll the dice and go
according to His
Don’t seek me…I’m
not wise…I was the
one you despised –
you treated me like
a foe – just admit
it! Stop throwing
But I’ve risen to be
a better person –
I’m prized and I’m
Melt away my misery
and replace it with
lifting up my frown
and making me feel
free ’cause I
voice you guided me
with – honestly, I
feel prized by His
But, I’m a troubled
You wept tears of
shame and I couldn’t
You made me weep
No more! Wow! I was
drowning so deep,
But You rose me up
again and Your
miracles made me
swim to safety
I flew with fervor
in my heart – let go
all qualms and
flee…flee from the
world of blasphemy
You are real to me –
a grand, creative
You’re my brilliant
shepherd – I’ll
follow You like Your
little ugly duckling
– take me on a
You whispered these
three things that
links to Your wise
sayings and it made
me jump with cheer
than I realize,
You’re not alone,
And you’re not a
No hope in mind –
In love and blind –
still am for shore!
I will always love
Treat yourself right
and walk into the
But, I’m six feet
below the surface –
He makes me rise up
like the sunrise,
with dandy delight
Pull me out of the
my wonderful state
of mind – He’ll make
everything work out
alright – everything
will work out in the
long run…the end is
only the beginning
just like the
I catch a glimpse at
the golden eagle,
I accept the sight
with arms wide open
Open up the
corridors of my mind
and get me out of
the lion’s den
Long poem by
Demetrios Trifiatis | Details |
“I am certain that I have been here as I am now a thousand times before and
I hope to return a thousand times after.” GOETHE
Each soul an ambassador was and is of God’s will and grace
A ray of divinity, a guardian of the Holy Law
Each with a specific mission: to learn or rather to remember
How to find the way of return throughout space and time
And with the divine, again, to be seen in perfect equilibrium
The day I was born, as every man alive,
I found my immortal self bound to the wheel of time
That around eternity’s circumference took me, in very heavy chains
Asking to follow obediently the unswerving path of fate;
This endless trip of return where the only constant thing is change
Since then I have died once and many times after
But death's dark palaces to hold me were unable
As my soul’s perpetual desire to follow my way
Brought me back to this ephemeral world of fleeting dreams
With a new body, new hopes, new goals but always with the same desire
Thus I journeyed back and forth the plains of oblivion
Choosing the best conditions I could, according to my karma
Trying to find endlessly the golden middle way
That unmistakably between the extremes is only to be found
But since from the river of forgetfulness each time I was drinking
I was obliged, unfortunately, to start over again
So, I was born once a king and another was born a beggar
And in turns I was born a coward, a hero, a holy man, a vicious man,
A Christian, a Muslim, an atheist, an idolater a black man and a woman
And healthy and sick I was born and intelligent and witless
And was born to love so much the things I once detested
And to hate passionately the things I once held dear
And was born only to laugh and another just to cry
So, I drunk successively from the cups of joy and of sorrow
And was born to make friends out of my enemies
And enemies out of my brothers
And was born to realize the impossible dreams and fail the very easy
And I was born to slay and to be slain alternatively for thousands of years
Thus I lived continuously the extremes of both good and evil
Striving to find endlessly the balance in my soul
Through the wisdom that was endowed upon me by the Great Spirit
Who like a beacon, luminous, to guide me waits
To my supreme destiny that GOD for me has traced
So, as was passing from life unto death, from darkness unto light
With a speed determined by me, I don’t put on GOD the blame,
All my lessons have I learned through trial and error
Up to the very last reincarnation, in body’s mortal temple
Now free, AT LAST, from all earthly desires and every karmic blame
Radiating with holiness and glowing with grace
My immortal soul, HER divine wings unfolds and soars upwards the heavens
White light blazing in perfect equilibrium
And pure now to her glorious creator returns and with HIM UNITES!
5 January 2013
“A little while and my longing shall gather dust and foam for another body.
A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind and another woman shall bear me”
Long poem by
T Wignesan | Details |
The Parrot and the Woodpecker may turn...
[Sung by TEnicayccal Cellappa] Translated by T.Wignesan
mAnkiliyum marankottiyum The parrot and the woodpecker
kUtutirumpa tatayillai their nests to regain nothing waylays
nAnkal mattum ulakattilEyE Only we in all this world
nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai our homeland to seek may not turn
nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai our homeland to seek may not turn
[Above refrain repeated twice]
cinkalavan pataivAnil From skies filled with Sinhalese planes
neruppai alli corikiratu fire tumbles down in seething showers
enkal uyir tamil Elam Our lifeblood our Tamil Eelam
cutukAtAy erikiratu a simmering graveyard on fire
tAykatarap pillaikalin While mothers rave in pain children’s
nencukalaik kilikkinrAn breasts the oppressor tears apart
kAyyAkum munnE ilam Long before they might ripen tender
pincukalai alikkirAn the buds crushed from burgeoning
pettavankal UrilE Those who begot us back home
Enku rAnku pAcattilE tossing turning in their longing for us
ettanai nAl kArttiruppOm For how many days might we linger on
atuttavan tEcattilE in the other man’s refugee land
unnavum mutiyavillai Without proper food
urankavum mutiyavillai without sufficient sleep
ennavum mutiyavillai Unable rightly even to think
innumtAn vitiyutillai when will the day dawn for us
kitti pullu atittu nankal We who played at kitti pullu*
vilaiyAtum teruvilEyE joyously in the heedless streets
katti vayttuc cutukirAnAm There now tethered others lie felled
yAr manatum urukavillai no no hearts pain for us
Ur katitam patikkayilEyE When our eyes light on letters from home
vimmi nencu vetikkitu sobs prise open our brimming breasts
pOrpulikal pakkattilEyE By the flanks of battling Tigers
pOkamanam tutikkitu there to be our hearts throb and yearn
Note: * A competitive game played by hitting a small stick with a bigger one, the goal being to cover the greatest distance. Also called in Tamil Nadu and Malaysia: kavuntA kavunti.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 1995. From the collection: “Words for a Lost Sub-Continent” (2001). Excerpted from “Kasi Ananthan: Poet Laureae of Tamil Eelam” by T. Wignesan in Hot Spring: A Journal of Commitment, Vol. 3, No. 9 (London), December 1998, pp. 17-18.
Long poem by
J. W. M. Earnings | Details |
Take away my flaws…give me your best shot – gimmee your all!
Lady Gaga: [Give me a big (applause…x3)]x3
Beyonce/Rihanna: Let go of all worries…please remain by my side and put my mind
and heart and soul at ease
Gather around me, my stinging, beautiful bees…
I get pleasure off of your applauses…giving me satisfaction…I feel like I’m top dog
right now! Discouragement won’t push me down to the ground again!
Beyonce/Eminem/Justin Timberlake/Britney Spears/me: Am I going above my
Why am I still throwing my fits?
I don’t need your envy…but your wonderful, stylish sympathy
Rehearses in my mind…set me free, angel of forever-glowing glory
All: You took me to a higher place called Heavenly Haven
You are the enlightening dove and I’m the frightening raven
But, we’re two peas in a pod – opposites attract this time around
I was once lost in a multitude – once pushed down to this dirty floor
Me: I’m wingless…I’m invisible…
I’m incredible..I can do the impossible
Fighting negativity, so I can be me –
Instead, I invite positivity and kiss sunlit glee
Beyonce: Come here…fly to me…don’t be blue
Rihanna: If you only knew…that I loved you
Lady Gaga: But, I guess I was that bizarre girl that came out of the blue…just b/c
I’m eccentric, doesn’t mean I ain’t wild and epic…
You’re my ultimate addiction – you lift me higher than cloud seven
I gottah keep pace to run this race the right way…
Alright, you’re making my day…you are like my cherished Haven
Satisfaction is ours, baby…nothing’s in my way today!
Can you see it like fireworks in the sky?
Did you ever wish to be free
Like those mockingbirds and jays in the aqua-blue sky?
You and I will receive the ability to fly
The ability to show off our inner glow…yah know…soooo…
And we’ll be putting up a show…yah know…yah know…let the wicked wind blow…
oooh ahhahah ohhh…
Stop being an attention whore...
You were the one that I adore...
Our love was priceless...
Now, my heart's weeping and in distress
Me: You’re beyond brilliant…(Beyonce: in my eyes…)
So exquisite…you amaze me – you get the hint? (I’m telling the truth – no lies…
don’t wave your goodbyes)
All along, I was in denial for so long…for oh so long…I’ve been proven wrong that
you and I can get along
But I’m singing this lullaby with a touch of wildness and surreal style, but first, let
me write this somewhat satisfying song…
Me: I’m clueless...our love was priceless - what happened to it? You broke up with
me and stomped on me like B.S.
Lady Gaga: I’m speechless
Rihanna: I’m so depressed
Beyonce: I feel so insecure, I must confess
Me: I’m trying to make good progress
Beyonce: You’re interesting beyond reason and logic…our love ain’t plastic
You’re not a brick on the wall
You’re my fantasy – you’re just that fancy & fantastic…so epic…
Give me your all…your all…stand tall – give me your all!
Rihanna: give me all you got
Me: give me your satisfaction – don’t leave me to rot
All: We hit the dead end – I guess love is the end…darlin', is it true?
Was our love nothin' or priceless to you?
'CAUSE I ain't jokin' - I'm sick with the love flu
A-and I'm left without a clue...I must solve this mystery on my own without you...