Long poem by
Reshad Yahyaie | Details |
Once there was a girl with a tough personality. She was considered to be a friendly and talkative. She was extremely tough regardless of love and crashes. She had wishes and dreams but was never sure when it’s gone come true. She was hard working always to satisfy her family and be a great daughter. She was tough about love but at the same time she knew a special and incomparable person will come to her life, who will be very different than others. When and where she will meet him, she never thought about it because she believed that we shouldn’t look for love, the reason was that love comes itself. However let’s see how and where she finds that special person.
One night after working so hard of her project she was bored.
“Oh God I am so bored let’s see if my friends are online I will talk to them but at the same time gone download a song” she got online but unfortunately non of her friends were online so she thought to herself why don’t I make a new friend she requested a random boy who she never knew before. After a week passed and that boy accepted her request but they never got the chance to talk to each other.
“Oh this boy looks so cute but why can’t I talk to him” although she wasn’t trusting any boys but her heart would tell her that this boy seems to be a good boy. So she used to leave an offline massages for him in order to contact each other and be friends. One day they both were online so their conversation started.
Boy… how are u and how did u added me
Girl… I’m fine thanks well I was bored last week so I randomly added u.
They started questioning each other and she asked him have you got a brother or a sister he answered I have 5 sister but no bro. She reply but I have 2 sis and no brother. The time of Salah came and she had to pray and she asked if she can leave the conversation and pray but he was surprised that she prays. After she did her prayers she asked him why were you surprised when I said its time for me to pray? He reply afghans who live in foreigner most of them are not religious.
Weeks passed and one day she was so excited.
Girl… You know what
Girl… I have a new baby sister
They kept contacting each other even though he had exams on that time but he would still take out some time for her. At the same time he would study for exams.
Few month later they became best friends and one day he told her that he like her but she didn’t understand what does he mean by like. She called her best friend and told her he told her that he likes her but she doesn’t know why he said this because he loves her or just a simple like.
Hey dude … he told me he likes me but I don’t know what he means by that.
My Friend… ha ha stupid liking is the first step of love I think he loves u.
She also liked him but she needed time to know him more. He was so innocent and respectful boy she had ever meet. They became so closer and their friendship turned to love after a passing of time. She didn’t know much about his family and background but however she loved him and thought he is a right person for her life partner.
For every relationship to became stronger and trust worthy it needs time. Relationships are like building a house. Some relationship ends fast because it was build quick and the foundation was not strong enough but some relationships last forever the reason is that the foundation which that relationship was build was strong. The foundation of every relationship is trust, promises, honesty, truthfulness, modesty, respect and most important thing is a true love. Be the kind of person you would like to be with. Some people come into our lives, make footprints on our hearts and we are never the same. People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.
She always wanted someone who is respectful and modest towards girls. Someone who is honest but she never saw any boy with those qualities in him, she only saw those qualities in him. Even though she faced so much hardships, impenetrability and tests in life however she knew that when Allah tests you, it is never to destroy you, it’s to teach us something in life that we do not know. When he removes something in your possession it is only to empty your hands, for an even greater gift. She learned so much from those test and tried hard to become better Muslim.
Now they know each other and they love each other a lot. She has a full trust on him more than herself. Even though they sometimes have argument for some Issues but their love is strong enough and they are a smart people to find the solutions. No matter what we face and how we act towards it but it shouldn’t affect a person’s trust and love in relationship because it’s so hard to make one and takes a second to destroy it. This was a good story. It’s sad that it takes a long time for people to understand values and life. We as people are so consumed with our own lifestyles and duties we have made for ourselves.
I miss him more then he could ever know, I often ask Allah why did he have to go? I fell in love and he means so much to me, if he could look into my heart then he could see. I found something so special and it is for real, being without my love is so hard to deal. I'll be here waiting until I can be with you again, because not only are you the love of my life you are also my friend.
I just want to tell you,
I think of you every moment of the day.
And how much I love you,
Words could never even say....
I just want to tell you,
I love you with all my heart.
I wish for us to be together,
Never shall we be apart.
Copyright © Reshad Yahyaie | Year Posted 2013
Long poem by
J. W. Earnings | Details |
I grieve for your safety, sis, and I pray for you almost every day –
Depression does leave a big impact on us in a negative way
But I think you think I’m crazy…tell me if I am…
My heart’s devouring curiosity, pain and sham
And still – there’s questions left unanswered…
I feel awkward…I feel unheard like a loner at school, hovering around, yet
Staring at a blank screen before me…hurting my eyes a bit to a certain degree
I see that I have a long way to go with my writing process
I see my past unwind – set me free…the time will never leave me be
I’m living in a fairy tale, never truly bowing down to true success
Let me be…let me flutte like a butterfly out of its cocoon
Let me be who I want to be…let me shine bright like the moon
I’m glistening in the moonlight – I love you more than before
I wish the night away…hoping for some sunshine
I’ll stay with you till the day I pass away
We’ll fight this depression wars…if only you were mine
We’ll go through remorse and romance
Together…forever…we’ll dance in a serenity-indulged trance
Do you hear the wind, whispering their “goodbyes”?
Clear skies beam upon me for a little while at last!
Nothin’ but joyous skies feels therapeutic to my eyesight…
Forgetting the dilemmas that I’ve encountered and the horrid past
Clear baby blue skies hang above our heads in polished delight
Can you see right through me?
Will you ever see me in this reality?
You are bothering me, DEPRESSION!?
All I see is dismal clouds passing me by, accepting derision as a friend instead
of a foe
Should I just move on with life? Why do I feel the urge to cry?
I stab myself with frustration and hurt badly – I feel guilty for your crimes and
your sympathy will never show…let the wicked wind blow!
It pierces like an arrow that flies by night, hitting bull’s eye
Regret shouldn’t get the best of me
Why should I have an unwanted guess by the name of Anxiety?
I’m alone at last…but the future is left unknown
And, yet I don’t groan and God’s my backbone –
I accept the truth of it all…
These scars won’t heal at all,
Can’t help but be in the helpless frame of mind and the shattered state
The stars dim when city lights illuminate the ebony skies, revealing the
cemented ink painted in the atmosphere, unwavering without a smear of fear
Hold on to the bars before you – hold on to me, my love – I can’t help, but
hesitate – I keep thinking of my future, fretful fate
Please wait for me till the dawn scorches aflame like the planet Mars, but until
then – turn the wheel! Turn the wheel!
Hold on to the rope of hope – it won’t harm us, my dove! I can’t escape my
ruins, but I can change for the better and pick all the pieces up and sweep
away the debris - all we are is dust on the ground, rising like the horizon of
the sunset…stimulating our eyes with undying appeal
From where the sun now stands,
I’ve been succumbing to tragedy and preparing for the battle that lies ahead
How I wish upon Tomorrow to see you smile and lock hands
With me…with me…and go ahead of me – put your doubts and worries to bed!
Borrow happiness from me instead! You don’t have to return it back –
If it’s something you lack…come on and open up a crack!
Your hands as cold as ice in Antarctica…it’s frostbitten and I freeze to the bone
You’re concealing this warmhearted soul within you…do you want to be left
But, I won’t leave you without a trace, hiking this mountain on your own!
I know it’s dying to come out without a doubt like the dawn,
Shyly pushing away nightfall by projecting the sun in the sorrow-whelmed
Giving us sunlit glee…converting into flourishing ecstasy – God has my back!
Put your heart at ease and make Depression your slave –
Desert it forever and pick a different route to tread on…self-control keeps me
Oh! Perhaps, you were naturally made for me, but I must behave
I’ve had harder days than you – I’ve been through so much worse
Are you a refined, splendid gift or are you just another wretched curse?
You restored peace to my verse, angel of ambitious bliss, spreading about
good news with glorious grace!
(I can see your halo, spinning around and round and round your head like
Though I was tattered and torn by remorseful spirits, you were my childlike
You and I dismiss the blues and we figure out the mystery’s many clues,
placing our feet in other people’s shoes with empathy traced on our face!
I put my daily worries and distrust to sleep… I can see you weep…
The laments hits us too deep…I’m out of luck…all I thought I was was a loving
But, I was enchanted by the mirror and what it reflected with jubilation that’s
as shiny as a silver, noble sword –
A new spirit, radiant with compassionate, elegant elation …my heart beats in
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2014
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
Enjoy our parting day
the young girl child,
now full-grown wise Elder,
the brother she had taught to flex male muscle
without overbearing her Sister Gaia powers.
On this classic sun-baptizing fragrant May morning,
reflecting this same gently caressing day I was born
into earlier centuries of flowering cultures,
she prepares to leave me
as the length of our pilgrimage together
grows long enough to tip more poignant hello
into operatic final exit goodbyes.
I remember what I might have felt at two,
when she joined me
inviting me into our special shared world,
loving our polycultural identities,
nondual twins since infant-fairy magic,
not having previously known
how lonely love is without her.
Now, to stare remaining years ahead
without seeing and feeling her morning through evening present voice,
facing my own ecology of each Ego identity dying alone,
inevitably without her, or anyone,
dying without incarnate memories
of unconditionally cooperative and active love.
at two or three,
toddling outdoors in my most terrifying wild ways
exploring gardens and barns
chickens and pigs and milkcow domesticated wildness,
and returning to your crib to report back
all these wonderful worlds we would welcome
if you could only learn to walk and talk
I need not say farewell
as I learn to see forward as dying
into these deep rich memories
of learning to walk and talk with Sister Gaia's Welcome,
yet sometimes tipping, Wagon.
disappears as we stop over-investing in dominant negative
Yang, outweighing Yin's more integrally inclusive flow powers,
politically and economically,
personally and as a species,
intergenerationally and cross-culturally
now under-invested in polyculturing mutual-equity cooperative investments.
What is our mutual time-investment balance on this farewell date?
Do our mutual equity values line up, match, balance, absorb any lifetime losses?
Sister Gaia's regenerative trends
grow ever deeper cooperative equity-reinvestment designs,
policies and procedures for further self and other development
through EarthTribe Revolutions,
WinWin Life as LoveGame Health Theory.
We give evil, dissonant farewells,
nondual negative Janus-faces of Yang/Yin imbalance
by seeing these toxins and poisons
and personifications of DeviL,
as other than absence of good
Yang/Yin balanced nutritional Co-Creation Stories.
This Final Farewell Memory
Earth's Embryonic UnFolding
of Love as stretching BiLateral Time's Black Hole
(0)Rigin Tipping MidWay ReVolutions
Yang(+) = Yin(-,-)
ThermoDynamic Prime Eulerian Co-ReGenerative Universal Function
Intelligent ZenZero Tao-Balanced fractal RNA-iconic-ionic enlightenment
as Time's bilaterally unfolding regenerate matters
of EarthTribe's healthy enculturating-revolving futures.
remembering my original embryonically environmental Hello,
Here We Are
incarnating in and out,
back and forth,
up as down,
Yang-out as Yin-in.
While Autumn farewell bears time's reputation for messy falls from grace,
this is prophesied in spring seedling beginnings
bearing message memories merging coarising births
of EarthTribe multigenerational,
His/Her Creation Story,
coarising nondual identities,
within Earth's ecology of regenerate-revolving design,
polyculturally deep enriching outcomes,
by turning down RightFisted AnthroSupremacy
to balance Left/Right Zero-Centric EcoSystemic Investment
and divestment, double-negative equivalent
WinWin DiPolarity Outcomes
ReGenerate Network Game Theory Development
from BiLateral-Temporal Prime Relational (0)-FractalFunction.
Enjoy this parting day
I have so loved beginning again together,
our mutually co-invested Creation Story.
Enjoy our continuing
final farewell day.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Scribbler Of Verses | Details |
someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...
(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)
a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband
who was in exile at the time...
in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...
the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...
one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...
the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay
the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...
the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...
a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...
the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...
by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...
but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...
the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...
the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...
and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...
the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...
she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...
the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...
‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...
the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...
the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...
Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...
then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...
the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...
a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...
the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...
Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...
This was in the mid-1970’s...
Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...
the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...
a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...
a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...
and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...
and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...
(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
Long poem by
Laura Loo | Details |
Listen to poem:
And the cemetery was ageless...
As I walked up to the elaborate granite bench your ashes had been buried in, I saw the forty-foot bronze angel that was watching over you during your rest. But, no angel in the world could be more beautiful than you, dear sister. You just couldn’t give up the bottle and severe mentalities caused darkness within the depth of your being. You chose to take your life and now I must choose to live even though I wish it was me. I couldn’t save you. You couldn’t save you. We couldn’t save each other. I keep your goodbye letter in a safe place in my old journal. All the entries from the time you were missing. Day after day of using my pen to express how I knew you were missing, but I also knew deep down you were gone for good. No one would believe me. I knew it though. Because I know you would’ve reached out to me….and you did not. Our mother was the last one to hold your heavy bag of bones. She shed a tiny tear and whispered, “I was the first one to hold you, and now I will be the last…” How does a mother say goodbye to her first daughter? I’ll never know how…
And the cemetery was eternal...
As I walked just around the bend towards the grave number three hundred forty-two I saw it clearly. “Michelle Marie” my beloved sister. How could I lose another sister? I always came to visit you on your birthday in late September. I still have nightmares of watching you take your last breath. So slow. So deep. So sad. You just couldn’t give up the drugs. All the highs...all the lows… The last high was your fated death. You were my sister-in-law yes, but blood in my heart. How can I judge you when I too was in your shoes? Too weak to breathe and too strong to die. Each memory I feel of you brings misery from the poor actions on my part. For if not for me, you would still be alive. It was me Michelle…me…I was the one to give you the chemicals in which you died from. I will live on knowing everyday it was me who caused your heart to stop beating. I know I did not force the pills down your throat, but I offered you your death on a silver platter. May my remorse stop keeping me up at night during heart breaking remembrances. I still have the clothes you died wearing in my closet. I shall never throw them out…
And the cemetery was perpetual…
As I walked towards the exit all I saw was death. Death of many poor souls who should still be here being loved by many. Too much suffering in these burial grounds with too much remorse. All the reasons I am alive are all the reasons I should be gone. All the memories I carry of sorrow, are the countless times I needed to live. All the times I needed to live is when I deserved the worst. For I am nothing but a lost survivor of pain poured so purely in my essence. I am not worthy of a safe burial ground. I am not worthy of a beautiful grave. I deserve my ashes to be thrown over the bridge through the breeze and over the clouds. Maybe then I will find peace and an internal balance. I have no balance, just flashes of regret and anguish…
And the cemetery was my hell…
Date Written: May 15, 2016
For the Contest, And The Cemetery Was, Sponsor, Broken Wings
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Broken Wings | Details |
I go to a place of memories
That haunt my vivid dreams
On a winding path I walk,
The path is always there ;
Old oaks bend their branches,
Of dripping leaves and moss ;
The grass is emerald green,
And many birds chirp unseen,
Chipmunks scurry here and there,
Running up and down the trees.
And all around are flowers bright
They flutter in the breeze.
She waits beyond this bend;
Oh she was my sister love.
How we liked to play and play,
Until that sad, dark day,
She went to be an angel above.
I think it was God's will.
A rose I place upon her grave,
And let me write the pain.
The last time I saw my sister love,
She lay in repose so sweetly;
Her lips were rosy in death stillness.
Arms folded as if in prayer,
I kissed her cold dead cheek,
And I will remember her ;
Sleeping in her eternal ever rest,
Her dress of the softest pink.
The years have slipped past me,
I am no longer a little girl ;
But a woman of many years,
Yet when I walk this path,
I go back to that sad day.
The day I watched sister love,
Lowered into the earth below;
Mother Earth opened wide,
And then she was a memory.
A memory that will haunt me,
In all my days that remain ;
This place of deep sorrow,
A winding path beneath the trees,
A name upon cold stone ;
In poems inspired I write the pain,
Of a my beloved sister love.
Inspired by the poem, Pictures Of Memory
Written by Alice Cary, 1820 - 1870
Among the beautiful pictures
That hang of Memory's wall
Is one of a dim old forest,
That seemeth best of all ;
Not for its gnarled oaks olden,
Dark with mistletoe ;
Not for the violets golden
That sprinkle the vale below ;
Not for the milk-white lilies
That lean from the fragrant ledge,
Coquetting all day with the sunbeams,
And stealing their golden edge ;
Not for the vines on the upland,
Where the bright red berries rest,
Nor the pinks, nor the pale sweet cowslip,
It seemeth to me the best.
I once had a little brother,
With eyes that were dark and deep ;
In the lap of that old dim forest
He lieth in peace asleep :
Light as the down of the thistle,
Free as the winds that blow,
We roved there the beautiful summers,
The summers of long ago ;
But his feet on the hills grew weary,
And, one of the autumn eves,
I made for my little brother
A bed of the yellow leaves.
Sweetly his pale arms folded
My neck in a meek embrace,
As the light of immortal beauty
Silently covered his face ;
And when the arrows of sunset
Lodged in the tree-tops bright,
He fell, in his saint-like beauty,
Asleep by the gates of light.
Therefore, of all the pictures
That hang on Memory's wall,
The one of the dim old forest
Seemeth the best of all.
August 15, 2015
For the contest, No More Masks, sponsor, Catie Lindsay
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Jesu Johnson | Details |
The World can be
Bruising, to the flesh,
Battering, to the soul,
Beating, upon the mind ,
trying the whole body,
a dowsing of it's trials,
as I live,
trying, at times,
to replace what's rightfully mine.
But it's time,
that me and the world,
get a whole new,
When the world tries to sow it's seeds of:
Fear,Worry, Doubt, Hate, Shame,
All of those terrible things.
Devastation, and such.
I hear you, my brothers, my sisters, say to the world:
Then the world can't SHOW or TELL me NOTHING about
being pushed backwards,
but not staying down.
PROUD, & PROFOUND.
I CALL YOU, &.......
NO matter the subject, the matter, the topic at hand,
Me and the rest of the world are about to get a better understanding .
Then the world can't SHOW or TELL me NOTHING
I CALL YOU, & I GOT THIS, No matter what the world's throwin' or showin'
but that's another matter,
a different Poem .
Copyright © Jesu Johnson | Year Posted 2014
Long poem by
J. W. Earnings | Details |
At 8:30 AM,
"Get up, LAURA! Charlie! Wake up...Robert...Wake up."
No reply...no reply...just ignore my wake up calls...yell at me all you want
You make me cry...cry...just shatter me like glass...you place me in the trash, but I still feel this discontent
Deep inside of me...
There's a sea of remorse swirling around me...
At 12:15 AM,
No reply...no reply...
"What are you doing?"
I just want to cry...a river...why?
She still ignores me...now I'm feeling the anxiety...
She still jokes around with me, but I feel so angry...and so empty...
She's texting her friends again...I must talk to her sometime
She still doesn't answer my calls...she doesn't care to wipe off my grime
Sponging inside of me...
I guess I'm left with my chores for today
My heart is swelling up in dismay...and my sky turns to gray
And I pray...for relief and I just want to say...
I love my sisters and brothers, but they truly don't care for me...or at least that's what I think till this very day
This lonesome feeling sufficates me...
Go ahead and ignore me, sister
You just added another blister
In my mouth, my hopelessness avalanches all over the ground
You make me frustrated...and now my head spins round and round
And I feel bound...
By stress and torment!
Go ahead and neglect my voice
My heart is seeping out misery...pumping with fret...
while you text your friends and rejoice
In my head, my painstaking regrets torture me profoundly
You don't care to listen - live your life without me
My soul is left in the cold...
Oh! Go ahead! Let me mold...mold...
I worry about you, sister...
But you left me to dry like glue...you made me suffer
don't beg to differ...
Go ahead! Blow fire in my direction...
I warn you...you don't want to see an eruption
I don't want to be ensnared by my corruption...
Please God...pick me off from the ground...
and show me some direction
Or I'll be broken down like the titanic...
And You don't wanna see me panic...
At 1:00 AM,
I decide to pray to God for protection...
I pray...I pray...
I wait for His reply..........................
He helped me fight
my depression wars
He unchained me from the cage...
and taught me how to fly
He cherished me...
He understood me
and He still does till this day...
He healed my sores...
And He doesn't ignore my calls!
He makes me feel content
even in the midst of hardships -
I pray...I wait...I cry...
For His comfort daily...
to nourish me
when I feel ignored
Or when I'm stabbed in loathe...
I pray that Your peace be restored
In our family once more.
To fix the broken glass...to fix the emotions breaking us all
For the chaos to cease
To make the whole world rejoice...to encourage us to stand tall
Will love make us whole again?
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Long poem by
J Eliza JAMES | Details |
Nature’s Single Dad:
The Australian Emu :
The first 55 days
Emund is busy
partners who’ll put
him to the test.
His pedigree line
has proven with time
that it is now his
turn, to be best.
He hears them emerge
from the bush as
they gather in
answer to nature’s
They dance, and then
go away, they know
they cannot stay;
there is not enough
food for them all.
They dip and they
weave as they mingle
that each has a
With his reputation,
there is no
he is ready to join
in the dance.
‘Bonk! Bonk,’ comes
the sound of another
Emulena!’ he says
with a grin.
Others move to the
side as he leaves
to greet this dancer
as she flounces in.
rhythmic movement of
hips she fluffs up
her boa, it bounces
He matches her mood.
His movements are
as they twist and
twirl in their
He does not fuss
about who takes the
lead, he follows and
their dance now is
With steps that are
light he glides to
he meets her, bows
“Sorry, we cannot
stay longer, we all
must find paddocks
It matters not
whether we all stay
we trust you to know
what to do.”
As she speaks, they
deposit their gifts,
and he hears, as in
chorus they say,
“We know you’ll do
magically, what you
to deliver these in
your own way.”
After completing her
task, Emulena stands
tall and she fluffs
up her feathers once
They follow her lead
in twos, and in
and promenade across
the dance floor.
Left all alone, he
goes back to his
duties and looks
closely at each pale
He checks all for
defects. He sees
they are perfect,
so with care he
covers every one
He sticks to his
task for fifty-five
days in sunshine,
strong winds and
He values each
treasure and tends
them with pleasure
as he, turns each
egg every three
Through his long
lashes he sees
danger coming. He
drops his neck down
like a log.
Feathers flying on
high and red fur
he needs to fool
both bird and dog.
The shells have now
turned a dark bluey
green, there’s an
infertile egg in the
This egg will be
food for his hungry
but he won’t eat or
drink, ‘til they
Each day he looks
up, and turns his
head to the sun as
it rises each
He’ll sit day and
night until the
He knows, that time
to be continued...
Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012
Long poem by
Carrie Richards | Details |
“Only girls cry!…Oh, boo hoo!” laughed my brother, (as big brothers often do)
He had been taunting me, teasing me, heckling me, as I whined, complained.
Neither of us would have won a prize, for being the angelic sibling pride,
of Kirby street one day outside, in hot July...
“You jerk!”..I cried,…a laughing stock...his mocking me..
He smirked, while our brawl played out for all the world to see.
No recourse, no remorse..(poor me!!)… I was the butt of his demeaning jokes
and by then my temper had been stoked, he had poked me once too often!
So HUGE, was my disdain for this smug, big thug, that grinning face,
so....in retaliation, for my humilation, (as an enraged little sister might do..)
I grabbed one of his model airplanes….and threw....! But then.....
it broke into shards, big shrapnel pieces…I dashed for cover...
cowering behind the hedge…waiting for his own revenge!…
Instead it left a gash, an ugly wound, I was aghast...!
Above his nose.........a bloody rose
Well, of course our Mother got involved.. .
It was resolved by iodine and bandages
And a tongue lashing...
“You could have put out his eye!! ….and then we cried, …the two of us
Well, we would repent, with orders to spend the day becoming friends...
The afternoon sun was hot in the yard….
Until, a sudden, lightning shot
..tires skidding loudly down hot asphalt
One unguarded moment fell, and things came to a halt
As if a horrible spell, was cast upon the day ….
there was a car,.... around the bend
the game we played, about to end....
his dog, (a sweet dalmatiion friend) was hit
all time suspends........
My brother’s sweet dog, who slept on his bed, was gone
The next hours painfully hung…with weight of the memory lingering on….
Ending with me alone in my bed..
Mute with grief ….remembering his words….”Only girls cry”….
Hearing his sobs……all through the night..
And my parent's cooed comfort, the soundtrack to this tragic movie
That still plays in my darkest theater….all these years later
I shudder still, have a lump in my throat…how that faint little scar,
above his nose.... can still emote…
such feelings of tenderness I felt on that day.
Over the years…we have shared many tears…
we have leaned on each other, me and my brother
Big girls will cry, just as little girls do…and big boys can cry,
..And hey,...ya' know what? ..That’s okay, too.
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012