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Long Remember Poems | Long Remember Poetry

Long Remember Poems. These are the most popular long Remember by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Remember poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long poem by Joe Flach | Details |

Straight to Hell - A Short Story

I was a seventeen year old senior in a coed, catholic high school.  Our gym classes however were still all boys and all girls.  My senior year we had gym every other day and music every other day in the same time slot.  The music classes, therefore, were also all boys or all girls.

She was a twenty-eight year old nun in her first teaching assignment.  She was in way over her head.  She was about five-foot-four and weighed practically nothing.  The nuns in our school no longer wore habits and I remember thinking it was a good thing because she would probably fly away like Sally Fields.  If you don’t know what I mean by that then you are too young to be reading my story.

The music class was a mad house.  She could not control a room of twenty some boys bound and determined to make her life hell.  I mean, music class?  Really?

We never did the homework assigned; never answered her questions seriously; never believed her threats at discipline; wouldn’t accept the demerits she tried to hand out; and basically goofed off for the hour that was supposed to be dedicated to learning about music.

For some reason, she seemed too proud or too green or too determined to go to the principal or another teacher for help; and, sensing that, we knew we could get away with our childish behavior and so we did.

One day, a handful of us “got in trouble” and she said she wanted to talk to us after class.  I was the only one that actually stayed.  She tried to lecture me on my bad behavior but I guess my smirk was evidence it was not sinking in.  Then, she started to cry, and for the first time I saw her as a person.

“What am I doing,” she cried.  "I can’t do this.  I am trying; I am really trying, but I am not cut out for this.  Why are you boys so mean and hateful?”

I stood up in front of her not knowing what to do or what to say.  I felt like a real jerk.  I was a real jerk.

Tears poured down her face, which I finally recognized as being a pretty face.  She bowed her head and just sobbed.  In my awkward seventeen year old manner, I slowly opened my arms and allowed her to lean into me.  And I hugged her while she wept.
   
At seventeen, I was no ladies’ man, and this crying nun was the first woman I had ever held so close to me.  I could feel her breasts pressed against me; the heat emitting from her body; and, the delicate nature of her womanly form in my arms.  I knew then that I was destined to go straight to hell for the thoughts that were going through my head and the feelings I felt between my legs.

She pulled away and whispered, “I am so sorry, I should not have done that.  You may go.”

I simply said, “You know, you are doing fine, you just have a class of a bunch of butt holes”, and walked out of the room.  It was that night that she started coming to see me in my dreams.  To hell I go, for sure.

I wish I could tell you I had the moxie and the influence to whip that class into shape, but I did not.  The mad house continued with one less student joining in the fun.  I tried my best to behave, answer her questions, pay attention and feign interest in the topic of the day – but I was just one in a sea of monsters.  I stayed after class and after school a few times to talk with her, ask her how she was doing, and see if I could help in any way.  She was actually starting to get the hang of things and was able to focus on the few classes that were willing to learn.

At the end of the school year, I was one of the few students who had not enrolled in a college for the coming year.  Because I was one of the better students, it caused a little bit of a fuss and a number of teachers talked to me about the huge mistake I was making taking some time off before going to college.  It seems they were all convinced that if I did not start into college in the fall, I was doomed to never go to college.  I challenged them by saying what they were really worried about was their statistics of percentage of students who went on to further their education.

During the last day of classes, the music teacher asked me to stay after class.  It appears, it was her turn to try to talk some sense into me.

“So, I hear you are not going to college,” she said.

“No, I’m going to college … some day, just not this fall.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.  Take some time off.  Work.  Nothing.  I don’t know.  Why is it so important to everyone?  When the time is right, I’ll go to college.”

“They just care about you.”

“Bull loney,” I said, only it was another word.

She smiled at me.  I had been dreaming about her now for six months.  I changed the topic.

“Have you ever kissed a boy?”

She laughed, “You know, I grew up the same as every girl in this high school.  I did have boyfriends.”

“Yeah, but have you ever kissed a boy,” I challenged.

“No.  Not the way you mean.”

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?”

“No.  Never,” she lied.

“If I told you I will register for college if you kiss me, will you?”

“No.  I believe you when you say you just need some time off.  I think that is a good idea.”

Then she walked up close to me and stopped a heartbeat away.  Suddenly, she reached down between my legs, grabbed the crouch of my pants and said, “Just don’t let this thing get you in trouble.”

She abruptly turned and walked out of the classroom while I tried to catch my breath.

During the graduation ceremony I saw her sitting with the other teachers and shared a private smile with her while walking back to my seat after being handed my diploma.  I would never see her again … outside of my dreams.

I often think about my high school music teacher and my ticket straight to hell.  Unfortunately, I never heeded her advice.  That body part of mine she grabbed ahold of for a fleeting second those many years ago, has gotten me in trouble time and time again.


Long poem by Mario DE PAZ | Details |

Dante's Divine Comedy translation CANTO IX

That color vileness painted on my face
When coming back my duke to me I saw 
His new squeezing inside much more took place.

He heedful stopped as man hearing to draw;
Because his eye could not reach much far more
Through the black air and too for the fog flaw.

“At end we have to win this battle bore”,
Started him, ”Unless…. Someone offered aid.
Oh how late is other reaching this shore!”.

I saw clearly well how he had to fade
His speech at start when he reminded then on,
Telling different words respect he made;

But not less frightening gave his speech gone,  
Because I bethought the truncated say
Probably the worst unwilled sentence con.

“In this hard bottom of the mournful tray
Never is who descends from the first grade,
Which only for his pain no hope must pay?”.

I asked this question; and he “I’m afraid
It’s quite rare”, responded, “That among us
Be somebody who my same journey made.

It’s true that here I had one time to pass,
Conspired by that Eritòn cruel indeed 
Who retrieved the spirits to their corpus.

It was recent that my flesh was naked freed,
When she allowed me enter through that wall
A Giuda’s circle’s soul to keep had need.

That’s the lowest and darkest place of all,
And the furthest one from the turning sky;
I know well the path; thus do not appall.

This swamp whose stench around is very high
Encircles the mournful town all around
Where to go without wrath now we can’t try”

And told me more, but memory I confound;
Because my eye attracted full my mind
Toward the tower burning top then bound,

Where toward one point were fastly aligned
Three hellish furies fully with blood stained,
Who had members and acts female defined,

And with greenest hydras looked like were chained;
Small snakes and sidewinders they had as hair,
So that their fierce temples were hard constrained.

And he, who well recognized their despair
Of the eternal weeping the wild queen,
“Look”, he told me, ”The wild Erinni scare.

This is Megera whose song is grim obscene;
Aletto is the one crying on the  right hand;
Tesifon is in the middle”; and hushed serene.

With nails each one hers breast there wildly panned;
They stroke themselves by hands emitting cries,
So high that alarmed I held the poet grand.

“Medusa will make him of stone in guise”,
All of them were telling while looking down;
“Teseo’s assault we did not yet chastise”.

“Turn back your face and cover it facedown;
Because if Gorgon shows and then you see,
You could never go back to upper town”.

So spoke my master; and exactly he
Turned me back, and did not hold my hands,
Before that with his hands I covered me.

Oh you who have a mind which understands, 
Admire the doctrine which is hidden here 
Under the veiling of strange verses stands.

And was just coming up with waves’ smear
A din of noisy sound, so full of scare 
That both sides were then trembling as for fear,

Not so different from strongly blowing air
Vehemently coming from opposite heats,
Which hits the wood and no defense aware

Breaks the branches, strongly strikes and out beats;
Full of powder goes on and full of pride,
Wild animals and shepherds to flee hits.

 He moved to me and told: ”Your sight now guide
Up there toward that very old dirt grime 
And look closely where that smoke is more wide.”

As frogs which seeing forward on time
The adverse snake in water away flee
Until each one is hidden in the slime,

 I saw more than thousand souls very stray
To escape from one front to them whose pace
Was moving on the Stix in dry foot way.

He removed that sticky air from his face,
Roughly moving oft ahead his left hand;
And only looked jaded of that disgrace.

I perceived that from heavens he was planned,
And I turned to the master; and he made sign
To keep me quiet and bow to his command. 

Oh how much to disdain looked to incline!
He reached the door and with a little rod
Opened it, which made no flak to resign.

“Oh by heavens expelled, folks dirty sod”
He started on the horrendous threshold then,
“From where does come this hubris of your squad?

Why do you kick against that will, you men,
To which nobody can cut off the end,
And many times hurted you in this fen?

What does it profit against fate contend?
Your Cerberus, if you remember, still
Now has goiter and chin to amend”

He then moved his pace toward the road ill,
And didn’t speak to us, as to appear
A man who aims to perform a strict will

More urgent than the one of people here;
And then we moved on feet above that ground,
Safer after the saint words and no fear.

We entered there freely and with no bound;
And I, having desire of looking more
The condition that fort tightens around,

As I was in, my eye turned to explore:
And I see everywhere a country wide,
Full of pain and of vicious torment sore.

As at Arli, where Rhone stagnant is tied,
As at Pola, to the Carnaro close
Which Italy ends and wets its coast side,

The graves make ragged all the site at most
So there in everywhere and part just made,
Except a bitter way was shown by those;

Because between the graves high flames stayed,
So that they were in full completely lit,
That fused iron would not require more grade.

Were all open the covers of any pit, 
And so much mournful laments then came out,
That plain was dreary people to emit.

And I: “Master, of people tell me about
Who, buried in those arks now we there see,
With mournful sighing we can hear to shout?

And he: “Here the heresy-arks must be
With followers, of any sect, and much
More than you think in tombs are with no plea.

Similar is buried with being such,
And their penalties are hot more or less”
And when he turned right to go in touch,

We passed through the borders of that sad mess.


Long poem by Vic Pister | Details |

When I Die

When my life has finally left me and my last breath has been shed
And the silver cord is broken and my bodies firmly dead
I shall hover near the body, download the scenes of this past life 
Noting all minutest details rolling backwards past my eyes

I’ll store these scenes ‘til later when I can take the time to learn 
What the lessons have to teach me and help me to discern
How I treated other people, made them happy, made them sad
Examine all my actions, both the good and the bad

Three days later I’ll lose interest as my focus moves away
From the world that I just left behind, there is no need to stay
For a lifetime in the life of man to God is just a day
And my soul as God on the wheel of life must move along its way

I’ll take the download with me as I move into first heaven
It’s the first stage in the afterlife, in number there are seven
Here I’ll see and feel the good things that to others I have brought
And revel in the feelings of the kindness that I wrought

I will store these in my seed atom so in future lives I’ll know
They’re the things that I must multiply for my souls’ conscience to grow
For the conscience is the souls’ voice that guides you day by day
That still small voice that warns you in what you do and say

When that’s done my view will shift then to the things that I did bad
To the hurt I did to people that left them feeling sad
I will feel their pain intensely, ten times worse when in this field
For I’ll be purely spirit now with no flesh for a shield

These painful lessons will imprint upon my seed atom as well
In some religions we are told our soul’s in everlasting hell
In the stages of the afterlife, this is your punishment in heaven
This is the third and the most painful of the total seven

The Grim Reaper now has visited with his scythe so I will know
Through natures Law of Consequence I will reap what I did sow
He has shown me all my misdeeds and caused me many tears
And this purgatorial experience may last for twenty years

When my suffering soul recovers and the pain has died away
And I’ve incorporated the lessons to never act this way
In future lives I’ll be a better man from these lessons I have learned
One step closer to perfection that my growing soul has earned

Now I can sleep, Oh peaceful sleep, a state of heavenly rest
I’ll dream the dreams I love in life, of things I love the best
All desires that my soul has yearned, not a thing I can’t create
In the Great Silence of the spirit world to help me concentrate

The colors are much brighter, the scent of flowers more sublime
The senses are much sharper, there is no sense of time
I will see all other people as pure souls just like me
And I’ll know we’re all evolving to the bliss of eternity

I will hear the mystic music of the planets as they pass
Like a thousand singing angels, heavenly peace has come at last
Every planet sings its own song, we’ve grown deaf to this below
But in this super consciousness we’re in the eternal flow

I’ll be with my friends and family and others whom I love
The ones who left before me and currently live above
There they wait with arms wide open and rejoice when I arrive
In the fourth stage where I now live, it’s utter joy to be alive

I’ve incorporated my lessons, I now recall my goal
And my mind begins to focus on further growth of my soul
I must make further preparations and my vision starts to clear
I feel I must keep moving forward for all my works done here

I now have gone through five and six, there is just one more 
In years it’s been from birth to birth one hundred forty four
The time has come to move along and leave this place called heaven
Prepare for life in the physical world, I move to number seven

My soul has gathered the material, I now know what I must do
To make some more improvements in the places I need to
I must take another body, I must live another life
To grow and liquidate more karma though it means more pain and strife

I build an archetype of the body that in future I will form
When embodiment is offered, and I can be reborn
I will see the opportunities and be able to discern
The ideal embodiment for me when the right egg meets the sperm

I will hover near the fetus, influencing where I can
And I’ll have the power to make it be a woman or a man
I will help to build the body to suit the lessons I must learn
To overcome more issues so more advancement I can earn

When baby takes its first breath and my soul is taken in
With the imprint of my seed atoms that it has brought within
Now the babys’ atoms resonate to my seeds vibration rate
Making it the perfect body for my soul to habituate

The new body will be my new home, I will live a life anew
Gain experience, learn more lessons, through the things that I will do
I’ll apply the added knowledge that I learned in this past life
More evolved than in the last one, and cause me less pain and strife

This will happen just as often as required by the soul
As it pushes ever onward, pushing ever t’ward its goal
Of complete re-integration back from whence it came
To the universal soul of life no matter what its name

Nature is not personal, it does not seek revenge
If we mess it up we have the chance to do it all again
We arrived here by this process, nothing’s changed it’s still the same
But our souls have evolved immensely since we stepped into the game

We started out as fallen angels with no experience on this plane
We’ve grown to this by coming back again and again
Though we cannot remember for each conscious mind has died
The feelings in the soul remained in our subconscious mind

And so this is the story of the cycle of the soul
As it struggles through evolution on its way toward the goal
It’s this way for all unfailing, from natures law there’s no relief
All living things go through it, no matter their belief


Long poem by Demetrios Trifiatis | Details |

ETERNAL RECURRENCE

ETERNAL RECURRENCE*


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
“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 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


1.

Once upon a time, 
The Lord of spiritual consciousness was sitting peacefully on His blissful throne 
Ceaselessly contemplating upon His equilibrium
T’ was the era of no moon, no sun, no stars, no earth, no oceans, no rivers
Just a motionless, timeless and deathless entity it was happy with His existence  

2.

Suddenly the thought of sacred motion was felt deep down in his essence
Seeking the chaos to be stirred from its core outwardly
Consequently separating the light from the darkness and all the other elements 
That constitute the Cosmos
Thus giving birth immediately to old mighty time

3.

When Time: This wizard of celestial art found himself alive
His expert hands stretched in advance, wanting to create
For that the plastic energy he took, that was everywhere around
And skillfully and patiently the Cosmos carved according to the Logos
Creating thus, the nebulae, the galaxies, the stars and all the other planets

4.

Then God looked at times creation and marveled with its beauty
But as there was no life to be seen in all of this creation
The thought of desire was born in God to inhabit every place
For that out of himself he cut myriads blazing souls
Which like shooting stars he sent downwards to animate nature,

5.

In this way, to manifestation’s cosmic sphere, the souls were beamed
Radiating their luminosity to reality’s lower planes  
Bringing with them the sacred principles to denser forms of life 
As they were passing from the spiritual, the mental and the astral
And finally materializing, themselves on the physical solid plane
Where life began on earth, with God’s will and grace!

6.

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

7.

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

8.

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 destiny
Brought me back to this ephemeral world of fleeting dreams
With a new body, new hopes, new goals but always with the 
Same desire

9.

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

10.

So, I was born once a king and another was I 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 strong man and a woman
And healthy and sick I was born and intelligent and witless
And was I born to love so much the things I once detested
And to hate passionately the things I once held dear

11.

And I was born once to laugh and another just to cry
And I drunk successively from joy’s cup and that of sorrow’s
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

12.

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
That like a beacon, luminous, to guide me waits
To my supreme destiny that GOD for me has traced

13.

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

14.

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! 


©Demetrios Trifiatis
  11 DECEMBER 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”
KAHLIL GIBRAN
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* This poem because of its length I was unable to post it in one piece for I was not a
member for life at that time therefore I published it in two parts as: “CREATION” and as “REINCARNATION.” Here is the entire poem as it was originally written.
Now, my friends know that apart from my epigrams I write... long poems as well!    
  


Long poem by Shadow Hamilton | Details |

A Journey Through Time final part revised

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   
  


Long poem by Dylan Irvin | Details |

Phantom Journals

Phantom Journal Entry 1
 Wednesday 8:03 A.M.
I found Jesus at a bus stop this morning. He recommended that I comb my hair. I told him if I had any nails I would hand them over.  Monty  found a shoe full of vomit by a dumpster. Someone had an interesting night. This apartment smells like stale french fries. Frank is still sleeping on the counter next to Mr. Coffee. There is a stray cat clawing at the windowpane. The town is gradually waking up. The park across the street is filled with shirkers. My mind is still living in last night’s conversation. But I don’t remember it very well.  Shit, I’m going to be late for 

Phantom Journal Entry 2

Wednesday 11:13 P.M.

Work sucked. I think the bartender is an alcoholic. She hides a flask in her bra. It fell out when we were in the stall together. Frank is sprawled across the kitchen floor. Monty steps over him to grab a beer. The stray cat is now sleeping on the windowpane. Nothing ever changes from morning to night. Except Monty is drinking coffee and not beer. 

Phantom Journal Entry 3

Good Friday 9:47 P.M.

The ocean left the brine. The girls here are all made of smoke, and their dreams are living in my beer. The worms are drunk on the stove. Frank passed out hugging the toilet. Monty takes a piss right next to his face. Some girl just asked me what I was writing. I told her that I was rewriting the Bible. She seemed confused. Her hair wasn’t combed either. The guy at the bus stop would be ashamed. I can’t remember his name though. The television can’t stop spewing poorly scripted ‘reality’ shows. This Friday isn’t very Good. 

Phantom Journal Entry 4

Monday 3:12 A.M.

My eyes are broken garage doors off the tracks. I’ve drank too much Red Bull. She keeps waking up and asking me for water. Apparently her mouth is in a drought. A dead soldier lays between her breasts. Frank keeps drooling on the carpet. My favorite ash tray is tipped over next to Mr. Coffee. This desk keeps hiding words from me. Monty wonders how much a plane ticket to Hell costs. He never sleeps.

Phantom Journal Entry 5

Thursday 12:31 A.M.

It smells of raw fish and bleach in here.  My palms are sore. Monty told me to stab myself with pencils to make sure I could still bleed. So I did.  That girl ordered me a pizza. But I forgot it under the couch.  The medicine chest is nearly empty. When Frank wakes up he is taking a trip to 5th Street to get more. I wonder if they sell bandages there? Will Mr. Coffee brew marijuana for us? My brain is starting to throw up. 

Phantom Journal Entry 6

Thursday 12:38 A.M.

This desk keeps mocking me. I offered it to the guy at the bus stop, but he said he didn’t want anymore wood. The dishes are now a chemistry project. But Mr. Coffee is always clean. I can’t get this girl to stop showing me her tattoos. I miss the bartender at work. She got fired tomorrow. So I bought her a new bra. The medicine chest is empty now. Frank is never awake when I write.

Phantom Journal Entry 7

Thursday 4:30 P.M.

I finally got the garage doors fixed. I guess they weren’t closed enough.  There is a ghost that keeps haunting the hallway in my dreams. She is pretty hot. Except she keeps tilting the pictures on the wall.
The thirsty girl still won’t leave. Neither will the cat. We may have found the cure for cancer in our dishes. But probably not.  Frank is talking in his sleep about stepping on rats. Monty is listening to Beethoven while he attempts to write poetry. He is an awful writer. 

Phantom Journal Entry 8

Monday 1:49 A.M.

The guy at the bus stop asked me if I wanted to drink his blood. I told him I wasn’t thirsty. The water was running from the shower. Frank was dreaming in the tub. Monty ate chicken wings with the tattooed girl. I can’t remember her name. I think that cat is hungry too. Mr. Coffee wants to go to sleep. There is broken glass sticking out of my feet. The sky is bleeding white. My mind begins to masturbate.

Phantom Journal Entry 9

Sunday 3:33 A.M.

The brine is looking for the ocean. The girls here are all made of smoke, and their realities are dead on the floor. This desk is growing a face. The medicine chest is full. Monty picks up a filthy habit from the black lake. I haven’t seen Frank for a few days. He must be under the couch. I robbed the guy at the bus stop. Turns out he didn’t really save much. The thirsty tattooed girl shattered Mr. Coffee last night. I will miss him dearly. Now my shot glass is spawning worms. 

Phantom Journal Entry 10

Tuesday and I don’t know what time it is

It’s been 369 days since I last wrote an entry. I’ve simply had nothing to say. Monty is living in the streets somewhere. I think of him every time I buy a loaf of bread. I wonder if he found out how much tickets cost? That cat finally starved a few weeks ago. I married that thirsty tattooed girl. I still don’t remember her name though. Frank went to sleep in someone elses apartment. Never did talk to him much. The worms are all marching in a line. Someone stole my medicine chest. I think it was Monty.  The guy at the bus stop was thrown into an asylum. But somehow vanished one day. The garage doors are now closed on a regular basis. That ghost finally straightened out the tilted pictures. I think I’ve been combing my hair a lot better lately. I am still a phantom to society. But that’s okay. Nobody knows my name.








Long poem by Ralph Sergi | Details |

A Film Noir Movie

By the lamppost at night
with the pale moon shining bright
but obscured by the fog
I saw her in the harbor
standing where my boat lay moored
but she knew that
her azure eyes beckoned me to come
smoke from the cigarette in her hand
trailing upward and blending with the mist
and the gold braid around her wrist
I remembered my gift

I stood transfixed
if only for a moment
then I walked to her slowly
and tipped my fedora 
and the little joke we shared in love
I asked,"Where have you been all my life?"
Waiting for you, she said
I laughed at her resentfully and said
You left me here from this place
without a note, without a trace
I scoured old haunts, you weren't there
you left as if you didn't care

Remember our walks along the shore
your favorite drink,that special place
in the cafe by the window
where the sun would shine on your hair
and leaving a golden glint
like it did on my boat
when it was in full sail

Then one day you went away
our love became a mystery
that was never solved
now your'e here and I ask you why

There was a war, she said
I lost this guy and you came along
to fill the void and share my sorrow

I loved you, Jake,  your silly hat
the way you tipped it, the boat , the cat
who begged for fish after each catch
she paused and lit another smoke  .
took a puff and exhaled and said


Then one day , he showed up , his name was Clive
the guy I mentioned had survived
and left his tags with a guy who died
and he became an MIA
he was hiding out in Mandalay
involved in something, he wouldn't say
but he wanted me there, he promised me fame
I was a singer, you know
and all the dough that I could want
or all I could take
I just had to know how to play the game
Then I thought of you Jake
and what we had
and I told him , No

He got mean, Jake 
and threatened to expose me 
for what I really was
and I couldn't bear for you to hear
my sordid past, my constant fear
we're both alike, you and me, he said
We'll take what the world has to give
and  grab  it by the throat
or I’ll destroy you if you don’t
As time went by,it didn't take long
to see he was singing a different song
His lies and schemes, the other dolls
I lost my respect and I didn't care
I had to get out, I needed a plan
to rid myself of this rotten man

There was this guy, Buck
who ran the bar, he pitied the plight
that I was in, he hated Clive as much as I
I told him I watched Clive at the end of each night
the cash he hid in a special place
no doubt to leave in a hurry in case things got hot
he would check to see how much was stashed
if it was worth the dare, we would split down the middle
and make our departure at the crack of dawn
I knew a Burmese captain who owned a scow
who asked no questions for a fee
he'd have  some cabins for you and me

Just before closing , I feigned getting ill
and called for Clive to aid me somehow
to stay awhile and give me a pill
and while he was there, Buck went to that spot
took the cash and lit out that night to wait for me.
at a pre destined place

My bag was packed in another room
I told Clive I would rest and join him soon
But as soon as he left, I slipped out 
to the back, grabbed a cab
headed for freedom away from that man
thinking of you and to make things right

She paused for a moment and put out her smoke
and I thought I saw a drop of blood
form on the corner of her mouth
she quickly wiped her hand across her face
and continued her story at a slower pace

I arrived at the pier where the scow lay docked
took one look behind me and looked at the clock
of the building where we were to meet
checked my watch that matched the time
I saw a jeep pull up and he saw me
two grips in his hand and a smile on his face
he said, I got his dough, I'll leave his jeep
It's the least I can do for that miserable creep
I said there's no time to waste
just show me the dough
we'll split down the middle and get ready to go
he said, "Oh"
I'm ready to go but my plans have changed
I'm traveling alone
but I'll leave just enough to change your luck
this one's for you and this one's for Buck

I suspected as much and I scowled as he grinned
but his mouth shaped an O as he looked down below
the knife in his  stomach pulsed  blood from his guts
too late I saw his gun come up as he fell
I fell a pain in my side and clutched my coat
I picked up the bags 
and summoned up strength to get onto the boat

I looked at the captain and said
There's double the price
if we can get away soon
get up some steam 
and head for Rangoon
the captain patched me up 
as good as he could
with the aid of some rum and a smoldering wood
to cauterize the wound

I knew it was wrong to take his life
but I was prepared to kill him
to end this strife
as a precaution, I took the knife
that we used to cut bait with 
a long time ago
the knife stirred up memories

that you and I had
that pressed my decision to leave that cad
but the wound didn't heal, the lead lay impacted
I was resigned to my fate to see you once more
before it's too late... and here you are

She collapsed in my arms and I held her tight
with tears in my eyes , her audible sighs
gasping for breath and leaning toward death

And before she expired, her hand on my face
she said
Where have you been all life, babe
waiting for you, I cried
waiting for you

A tribute to the black and white movies and dialogue of the late 30’s and 40’s 

© Ralph Sergi















Long poem by Debbie Duncan | Details |

BY THE SEA

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.


Long poem by ravin Gupta | Details |

My Princess Of Imagination

                                        MY PRINCESS OF IMAGINATION
                                       -----------------------------
                                       -----------------------------

You are an empress of Heaven who descended on earth
A dear angel of God has taken birth

Your presence brings an awesome fragrance of joy
You are more beautiful than the Helen Of Troy

You resemble a symbol of peace, calmness, wonder and cheer
Like numerous scented flowers engulfed the entire atmosphere

Your presence enthralls the atmosphere with such an ardent passion
Flowers bloom, birds sing, oceans roar, Heaven rejoices in a supernatural fashion

Being a stranger but yet so familiar is an experience of mystery
I wanna be with your present, wanna be with the dreams of your future but never become your past history

I know nothing of you... but your life is a holy book written so well
Synonymous in nature to a religious novel

Every word of which would be so pious and divine
Their utterance will strengthen my soul and make it purely refined

And every word of which I wish you would share with me
And I would keep on listening with extreme curiosity

Hope this book of your life is so lengthy never ending and complicated
That while explaining me with clarity, your entire life is dedicated
Going through your inspiring life will make my mind so captivated
That in things of the world my attention will be never diverted

I would sync deep into your thoughts dreams and emotions
Explore your life like navigating through the depth of mighty oceans
The facts of your life will be as delightful as your nature
Synonymous in experience with a lifetime adventure 
                          to be remembered forever

I wish I was a memorable entity always alive in the vicinity of your thought
Some one who gifted u a special feeling which is beyond the scope of being bought
Spiritual connection with you is magical pleasure. My soul rejuvenates a lot

Your life is extraordinary, it is an eternal bliss
Similar to such a wonderful voyage, the bitter past I shall never reminisce 

Your soul resembles heaven's beauty filled with an angel's grace
I wish to find rest and comfort in such a sacred place

Worldly creatures are mesmerized by your supreme fragrance of serenity
The peace u provide, the calmness u bring resembles an heavenly entity
Synonymous to a medical replenishment of decaying souls to repair all their defects
Such that all disturbance, grief and sorrow are conquered and lose their effects

By the holiness of your spirit every evil existence shall perish
This divine revolution will leave behind only sweet remains to cherish
You bring forth the delight of eternity, a heavenly aura and shine
Which enlightens, encourages depressed souls, their lives renewed and new hopes defined

The everlasting impact of your presence inspires me to build an immortal attachment
And reside under your shadow which symbolizes an abode of holy settlement

I observe a pattern of silence in your behavior
I am unsure if this is part of your natural gesture
What is the reason for this sense of melancholy strain?
May be there is some trauma which brings you pain
Some moments of life you spend in mere solitude
What made u acquire such a lonely attitude?

I pray in your life there must not be any sorrow
Even if there is, I would willfully like to borrow
Any cloud of darkness over your life is beyond my tolerance
No power can besiege your holy throne of reverence

Alas and at last, there is something to say
I am striving with a pathetic feeling of dismay
Why I am so helpless that can not talk to you
Why are you a stranger? Am I some one so new?
Albeit a stranger, why I feel myself so close to you

Its my dream to talk to you for indefinite moments 
To disturb this peaceful conversation, i would'nt prefer ugly opponents

The passion of my imagination is beautiful far beyond the facts of reality
Where in I understand your holy life book in the sacred place with sanctity

I believe you live on earth but exist in the wonders of heaven
Alas your presence in my life may be something I am against hope hopen

Wish for an opportunity to express myself to you
Seems an awkward desire as u consider me so new

In the vision of my imagination, I will always find you near
Your divine presence eliminates any syndrome of fear
And I promise to cherish your presence in my memories till my days are over

I recognize your adorable nature rather than your beautiful look
I already defined you Synonymous to a precious holy book

Wish these feelings on your mind will have a profound impact
Finding acceptance in your life is still an unknown fact
Unknown is whether I bear that supreme fortune to experience your acceptance
Or Else you would consider me unimportant and indulge me in repentance

Wishing you all the best in your future endeavors
To honour my thoughts, please do me some small favours

Give me a true promise that you will forget me never
Request you to cherish these thoughts in your memory with pleasure
And edify yourself as heavenly princess as you are an eternal treasure

Thank You


Long poem by Terry Trainor | Details |

A Moment of Hope The Invisible Man 30

Sometimes I have the courage to think of the things that made me what I am today,
My memory takes me back to terrible things far away far off into my bitter past,
My mind like a maze of dirty black alleys that smell of waste, loss and disgust,
The losses, the drink ripped away, not happy until it was all gone respect as well.

Invisible thinks of a garden where roses clustered with lilies scent on the breeze,
Bees found stores of honey in the petals of a thousand and one different flowers,
Lovers walked hand in hand along its winding path a beautiful dream of the man,
Bright with the embroidery of nature where children played in new myrtle flowers,

As Invisible thinks of this garden it is neglected but flowers can grow with weeds,
It could put a smile upon his face, a face that had never known any joy recently,
He hopes a gardener can covert this garden get rid of ruined waste, back into Eden,
Tending all the beautiful flowers that spring up with the weeds and smell gladness.

If he helped the gardener in his quest a hand might hold his and guide him through,
Maybe a hand would go around his waist to support him as well as guide his hand,
Dare he wish that the guiding hand and the support would be his angel from heaven,
A dear person to help him clear his garden and walk down the winding path as lovers.

An angel that would smile at him maybe hold his hand and squeeze it so very gently,
Would the angel talk to him and tell him that one day they would be together again,
Her beautiful grace shining warmly as she looks up to him, to her he is her hero,
Not a drunken mess that cannot cope, not a dirty vagrant, but her knight her love.

The tenderness of this beautiful scene in his poisoned mind became real he smiled,
He grinned as she sat down next to him as close a she could get then wriggled closer,
Warmth from her body not only warmed him but gave hope this what he has waited for,
She whispered sweetly she loved him and would be waiting for him and they kissed.

Invisible woke with a start and was she not by his side, was she ever with him,
A dream another heart wrenching let down and how could he have dreamed the dream,
It was so real he still felt the warmth, the impression of her hand holding his,
But it must have been a dream his own mind conspired to deliver the hardest blow.


Lost in a grief so deep, his loneliness complete he talks to Sam his imaginary friend.

These days get worse Sam they really do please help me,
I need to change but I need my drink more what can I do,
But I need to change so desperately Sam can you help?
My world has cracked and I've fallen into the crack,
But what I don't understand Sam that I was once good,
If I had any courage Sam I would be laying in my coffin,
Why does life drag you along with it I don't want to go,
Just a bit of icing on my cake Sam it is freezing cold,
Did you know this is where I was brought up my friend,
Did you know that most of the people that walk past I knew,
Sam! I know many of there people but they don't know me,
Why do they all walk past I wish somebody would help,
Maybe when I have drunk more cider I might feel better Sam,
I can remember being happy but not what being happy is like,

As Invisible sits drinking shoppers give him a wide berth and they look at him with hate.

These people Sam they look at me as if I have hurt them,
The people they are not our sort of people they hate me,
Has the world changed like I have but in opposite ways,
My life is full of sorrow drunkenness and dreams Sam,
Old sorrows wont go away new sorrows should take over,
So we have to face both the old and the new that's bad,
At night I try to close my drunken eyes it all returns,
Sam is that the same as you can you close your eyes,
Can you remember the valleys Sam the ones we used to play,
When we ran about all day Sam in the sun rolling in grass,
The old stream that twisted and turned, it had lost its way,
Floating lolly sticks watching them bounce away on ripples,
Buying bangers in November and throwing them into the water,
What I wouldn't do to go back for just a couple of hours Sam,
Just to feel the innocence and try to bring it back to now,
To enjoy what there is to enjoy and maybe get better Sam,
But that will never happen Sam we are lost on an island,
A well populated island but an island all the same Sam,
People are not like ships they don't bother to rescue people,
They just walk around or just walk away all the nice ones gone,
I remember my school Sam it's now been knocked down and left,
It has all gone, all gone no primroses in spring or bluebells,
Do you remember Sam the bluebells used to nod in the wind,
But they have all been built on, whats the use in talking,
Nothing changes from bad to good Sam remember that, eh Sam,

Still drinking his cider tears well into his eyes his nose runs and begins to quietly
to sob. He sits on the shopping parade seat, shaking as he sobs. His throat has a lump
in it so he stops talking to Sam. Invisible sinks his wet face into his overcoat
hides his misery from the people that walk past he just sat there lost and confused. His
greatest sadness an angel paid a visit to the maze of dirty black alleys that smell of waste,
loss and disgust,


Long Poems