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Long Soldier Poems | Long Soldier Poetry

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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 gianni pansensoy | Details |

Stitches and Dreams

t was half past five before sunrise, 
when darkness faded into the misty Saturday's dawn, 
just an hour after a bloody confrontation, 
but a brave woman descended into a blood-bathed
street of Lustre, 
with hungry cats and mice on that battleground, 
walking while her purple robe turned pale
with agony, pain and pity, 
completely depressed by the horrible aftermath of war, 
where bullet-ridden houses pounded by an insane belief of
terrorism as a means towards a divine end, 
and victims died as tools for selfish political propaganda, 
while thousands evacuated from the satanic bangsamoro reality
that enriched the few, 
and too many had died under the brutality of corruption, 
some were murdered by extreme poverty, 
where social justice was just an unreachable dream, 
she bled for such an elusive dream.

Yet she strolled in between ruined homes and
broken aspirations, 
through the portal where blood drifted into nothingness
and souls decapitated by a turbulent past, 
while her veil of blue moistened by tears of sorrow, 
with eyes saddened by relentless conflict, 
when the status of civilization was measured 
by the degree of human barbaric atrocities, 
and she knelt down before the walls collapsing, 
torn into pieces by an extreme hate, 
razed to the ground by religious fanaticism, 
When would they realize to co-exist in harmony? 
she asked her thoughts, 
while tears tasted like bitter almonds, 
flowing between her sweet scented cheeks.

The reason behind this violence she could not grasp, 
but to shed tears of blood, 
within her confusion was a lightning, 
where palm leaves fell without solution, 
yet she appeared with an angelic face, 
with eyes shining brighter than diamonds, 
while the moonsoon wind blew her veil, 
floating over the decomposing corpse of a soldier
entangled between electric wires, 
and the dead was brought to life like Lazarus.

He knelt down from death, 
with his camouflage uniform torn by bullets, 
but the wounds recuperated, 
he recognized the blue veiled woman in front of him, 
the divine blessed mother of Jesus, 
he wept like a child, 
and when his eyes opened, 
the  woman went back into
the holy Fort Del Pilar, 
he forgot not the message from her, 

'Son! When humans learn to depart from hatred
then there is no reason to pull a trigger against someone.'
It was half past five before sunrise, 
when darkness faded into the misty Saturday's dawn, 
just an hour after a bloody confrontation, 
but a brave woman descended into a blood-bathed
street of Lustre, 
with hungry cats and mice on that battleground, 
walking while her purple robe turned pale
with agony, pain and pity, 
completely depressed by the horrible aftermath of war, 
where bullet-ridden houses pounded by an insane belief of
terrorism as a means towards a divine end, 
and victims died as tools for selfish political propaganda, 
while thousands evacuated from the satanic bangsamoro reality
that enriched the few, 
and too many had died under the brutality of corruption, 
some were murdered by extreme poverty, 
where social justice was just an unreachable dream, 
she bled for such an elusive dream.

Yet she strolled in between ruined homes and
broken aspirations, 
through the portal where blood drifted into nothingness
and souls decapitated by a turbulent past, 
while her veil of blue moistened by tears of sorrow, 
with eyes saddened by relentless conflict, 
when the status of civilization was measured 
by the degree of human barbaric atrocities, 
and she knelt down before the walls collapsing, 
torn into pieces by an extreme hate, 
razed to the ground by religious fanaticism, 
When would they realize to co-exist in harmony? 
she Asked her thoughts, 
while tears tasted like bitter almonds, 
flowing between her sweet scented cheeks.

The reason behind this violence she could not grasp, 
but to shed tears of blood, 
within her confusion was a lightning, 
where palm leaves fell without solution, 
yet she appeared with an angelic face, 
with eyes shining brighter than diamonds, 
while the moonsoon wind blew her veil, 
floating over the decomposing corpse of a soldier
entangled between electric wires, 
and the dead was brought to life like Lazarus.

He knelt down from death, 
with his camouflage uniform torn by bullets, 
but the wounds recuperated, 
he recognized the blue veiled woman in front of him, 
the divine blessed mother of Jesus, 
he wept like a child, 
and when his eyes opened, 
the miraculous woman went back into
the holy Fort Del Pilar, 
he forgot not the message from her, 

'Son! When humans learn to depart from hatred
then there is no reason to pull a trigger against someone.'


Long poem by Cyndi MacMillan | Details |

THE STAND

The eyes of Sarlissia were as large as the seventh moon of her parent's planet. Not yet five, she stood before one of the bloodied walls of the Commons, her shimmering skin almost translucent after a year of near-starvation.  Hope was gone. She'd been caught. 

Until now, she'd managed to survive the culling of her people, the Atramillons. Quickly, so quickly, she'd become apt at hiding from the League of Cleansing and their vicious hounds, laying low in rodent tunnels or remaining still for days in the tight, mud caves of a nearby bog. 

Six times this season, she'd travel North to the city of her birth, risking execution. Praise the Maker-Being, there were those who did not hate her species, those who endangered themselves and their families by being merciful.. Many of the Others offered her small amounts of food and water, a pair of shoes, one had even provided her with a knife. Sarlissia realized what would happen to those who had helped her, and though she now faced her death, she refused to call out, choosing to protect her protectors.   

Most windows of the nearby homes were dark, but she could still see several curtains lift.  The Others who had cared enough to give her scraps were a mere forty feet away. But she took small, shallow breaths and accepted that she was soon to become light and join all those who had been culled before her.

"Rot, where are your parents?" one of the soldiers asked. 

Sarlissia bit her lips, tried to still the quiver that had begun in her knees. 

"Clip her. Then we won't be able to shut her up."

Four heads turned as a door opened. 

It was Marion, kind Marion who'd given her more than any Other. Sarlissia shook her head, beseeched the kind lady with her eyes to turn and leave. 

Instead, Marian dashed towards her, wailing. One soldier lifted his assault rifle, but his Sergeant pushed the weapon down. "Wait!"

"Please, don't!" Sarlissia cried. "I am ready to die."

Marian reached the child, stroked her softly glowing cheek. "We have been silent too long. And I will no longer stand by to see the slaughter of the innocents. May your kind forgive us, one day."

"Stand aside,"The Sergeant called.  "They must be eradicated."

"I will not move." Marion lifted her chin. "You will have to cull me, too. Son."

The Sergeant shifted."Mother, they are not human, they are worse than vermin, capable of destroying the logic of nature, capable of-"

"What? Changing shape, healing, traveling through time? Yes. I know."Marion sighed. "What have you done, Thomas? My God, what have we all done? Can't you see that she means no harm? Her species deserved a chance. It was a mistake, one mistake-"

"One mistake that changed the course of history. Mankind cannot chance that kind of power in the hands of those we do not know and are unable to trust. Order must be restored, no matter by what means. No matter the cost. It is for the good of the many."

"Are you hearing yourself? We are the monsters, can't you see that? Marion shielded Sarlissia, her voice gruff. "Do what you must do and I will do what I should have done, long, long ago."

Sarlissia tried to move, but Marion held her fast.

Suddenly, several doors opened. Sarlissia began to weep, unable to control her fear for her beloved Others as more and more began to run towards her. Shame of jeopardizing these kind strangers consumed her.  She should have stayed away. 

Soon, there were dozens of Others around her, united in their want to save her.  The crowd grew to be hundreds.

The soldiers stood frozen, uncertain of what to do. Before them stood their friends and family, people they had known their entire lives. 

It seemed like a century until the Sergeant lowered his rifle. One by one the other soldier did the same. Weapons fell to the ground. There was a moment of silence, of stunned disbelief that Law would be broken.

Then Sarlissia looked up, smiled at Marion and nodded. The Others parted and the glowing girl walked towards the soldiers. 

She reached out and light traveled between her and the Sergeant, seemed to sing in the air around them. He dropped to his knees and began to weep. 

Sarlissia leaned forward, pressed her forehead against his and whispered, "Hush, I forgive you. After all, you're only human"



---- the---?----beginning------


Long poem by Vee Bdosa | Details |

THE SERB DOG

            The Serb Dog by Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
     There was a bunch of soldiers standing around watching
a house burn and somebody said "Was that somebody screaming,
did you hear somebody scream?" 
     "Shut up idiot," said the lieutenant. "You don't want
the Serbs to have anything when they get here do you?" He
was from Dodge City and some of the other guys called him
Cowboy. Most of them had joined the unit in Naples and this
was their first assignment in what used to be Yugoslavia.
Now it was Hell.
     They could hear faint gunshots coming from over the
hill and everyone knew time was running out. Around the
corner a bunch of people was being herded out of town but
not everyone wanted to leave. They could hear some of the
older peoples voices pleading not to be put on a bus, but
nobody knew what else to do. The children only cried and
some of the soldiers tried not to think about the children
crying. Finally they heard the bus door slam shut and the
sound of the engine as it roared into movement then
gradually the sound disappeared behind the distant gunfire.
     "I heard they signed today," said one of the soldiers.
"Did you hear,
lieutenant, about them signing a ceasefire?"
     "Let them sign," replied the lieutenant "I will sign,
too. Torch that house over there. Who cares about another
cease fire?"
     "Why didn't you join the Croats, Cowboy? What ever made
a nicefellow like you sign on with us cut throats?" Everybody
snickered but Cowboy got over being irritated by their
remarks the first week. 
     "They didn't offer enough money," he snapped.
     Suddenly a dog came running down the road and one of the
soldiers said "Get that damned dog!" Everybody started
shooting at the same time and the dog started running and
jumping and yapping all at the same time then disappeared
behind a house. 
     "That's one lucky dog!" somebody said. 
     A captain came running up and said "Why were you guys
shooting at that dog?" 
     One of the soldeirs said "It was a Serb dog." Somebody
else said "It was in heat!" 
     "Well don't shoot no more dogs," said the captain.
Then the dog stuck its head out and a shot came from across
the road, shattering the stone building right next to the
dogs head. The dog let out a yelp and started running down
the road, away from the soldiers. 
      "Look at that dog run!" shouted the captain. "Don't
anybody shoot! I like that dog! Run Dog! Run Dog! Don't
let them shoot you!"
      Just then a volley of gunfire echoed from behind
the buldings and bullets could be seen hitting the ground
all around the running dog, then some bullets struck the
dog and it fell over without a sound. Some other soldiers
came around from behind the buildings across the street
from where the dog had been and they were laughing.
     "That was my dog!" yelled the captain to the other
soldiers.
     "That was your dog?" asked one of the men.
     "Yes, I said so!" repled the captain. "Didn't I just
tell you it was my dog?"
     "You just killed our dog!" snapped the lieutenant. 
     "We thought it was a Serb dog," the soldier said. "How
could we tell it was your dog?"
      "Well, you be careful about shooting dogs from now
on!" snapped the lieutenant. "Good dogs are hard to find
around here."
      "That dog was rabid!" laughed one of the soldiers
who shot the dog.
      "That dog was in heat!" laughed a soldier in the
first group.
      "That dog is dead!" said another guy. Everybody
started laughing.
      "Get back to torching those houses," said the
captain. 
      Suddenly they heard the dog yelping and when they
looked down the road they saw it running again. Everybody
started screaming and shooting at once and the dog
disappeared into a bunch of bushes just as some bullets hit
the dirt all around it.
      "That's the luckiest damned dog I ever saw!" said
the captain.
      "Guess it wasn't a Serb dog after all," laughed
the lieutenant.
      "Guess not," said a soldier. "No Serb dog could be
that lucky."
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Long poem by Loch David Crane | Details |

The Mojo Trick

The Mojo Trick
Loch David Crane
June 1979

Sweat-sticky and hot! The P. I. is not
	a comfortable place to be;
but sit here and perspire (as though by the fire)
	and I'll tell a tale to thee.

I was coming alive in a Philippine dive
	after Mojo and San Miguels;
 the raging fire in my stomach went higher
	but my sea legs rode out the swells.

I began with a pitcher of Mojo that hit
	a spot in my appetite;
and glass after glass I drank till the last
	and soon was feeling just right.	

Then a hostess sat down in a low-cut gown
	and asked "I sit with you tonight?"
And I nodded OK in a nonchalant way
	so she seated herself on my right.

Now the hostesses here are all drink San Miguel beer
	And the same is served all around;
but it don't show much class to charge five times' a 	glass
when serving's the same size per round.
So you pay a dear price to drink beer over ice
	which is how it is served in P.I.;
if you buy a girl beer when she says "I work here,"
	then she knows you're a Big Spender guy.

So I looked at this girl and my mind began to whirl
	and the Mojo played a trick.
Her face was so funny – a nose like a bunny –
	I wouldn't let her flick my Bic!

I won’t call her ugly, but with that funny mug she'd
	make customers run and hide;
you could send that girl in to a crowded room; then
	watch as horrified man stepped outside.

So as I drank my beer with a grin ear  to ear
	I said "My name is Billy, I think."
She was hardly demure; she said "My name is La Tour.
	I love you no lie.  Buy me drink."

Well I should have said "no," and let the chick go
	but I wasn't alone in the place;
and the thought of all night with this dog was a fright
	though her body was nice – but that face!

I thought "just one more brew,” cause I'd only had two,
	and I said that I'd buy her a drink.
Then she gave me a grin with her toothless brown chin
	and my self image started to sink.

But because I was shy (I'm just that sort of guy)
	I just couldn't tell her to leave;
so I stared at the band and I drummed with my hand
	and I brushed off the lint from my sleeve.

Well the music was fine; but the bar girl's next line
	was to say "Are you married, young man?"
And I saw my way out and lied with a pout –
	told her I had a wife in Japan.

So she finished her beer, and was soon gone from here,
and I ordered two beers to celebrate;
I was lucky, I thought, not to get caught
	between her and a magistrate.

For the Philippine girls wear long dresses and curls
	and use perfume and makeup for baits;
for to marry a guy, seaman or G.I.,
	means a free trip back to the States.

Then a man from the crew asked me "What's wrong with 	you?
	Why did you let that girl go?"
And I told him her face was scare spots off an ace
	but he looked back at me and said "No."

I called for "beer 12" and started to delve
	into my pocket for money;
my friend said "I'll buy," and his cash didn't lie,
	and "Mind if I sit with your honey?"
I said "you can do just what you want to do,"
	and I said that I couldn’t look at her;	
but he thought she was cute, had a nice bod to boot,
	so I nodded to go ahead after.

But beer thirteen made my vision grow keen,
	and I saw what a prize I had missed;
"I have drunk too much brew!   She was beautiful, too."
	as I saw him voluptuously kissed.

I thought "How could this be? She said she loved me! "
	My hand shook; my ice cubes went clink.
I heard her say to him "My name is Tuptim.
	I love you no lie.  By me drink."

So I smiled. I was glad; I was no longer mad
	'cause the Mojo had clouded my eyes;
I realized then she was after my friend, 
	and I hoped he was quick with his lies.

So it's "sailor beware!" In Olongopo there;
	where the girls fish for guys in the bars;
and though I often roam, I always come home,
	– single! Thanking my lucky stars.

– By the Phantom of the O2 level

(O1 and O2 are Officer’s and Civilians’ quarters on the USS Kitty Hawk; I taught English aboard several ships at sea, in the Program Afloat for College Education.)


Long poem by David William Breidenthal | Details |

My Savior and I Share Irresistible Love

*Verse 15* 
I found the light at the end of the darksome tunnel
You make me dance with a gratitude of attitude… you make me marvel…
Rihanna: Save me, oh savior…rescue me, oh sexy savior
Rihanna/Beyonce/Lady Gaga/me/ Christina Aguilera/Maroon 5 main singer/Bruno 
Mars/etc.: Out of the blue…x3
Lady Gaga: You’re bliss, like going a-top of mount Everest
You were the best, though you put me to the test…
But, I’ll keep trying my best and just dance
It will be ok…it will be just fine…doodadooda 
Just dance…we’re stuck in a sugar-coated trancex3 j-j-j-just dance,
You fancy pants! We’re spiraling in a trance…
Rihanna: Save me, oh savior…rescue me, oh sexy savior
Beyonce: I must add, honey – I must add
Give me the best you can, boy…
You make me loving you so baaaad…
It makes me sad to depart from yah – we’re a toy,
Broken into two…
Half of me can’t live without you…

*Chorus*

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…
Take away my flaws…
And give me a big applause
Let go of all worries
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!

*Verse 16*
You’re a satisfaction, making me a baby-blue hue…
If you only knew…how much I truly love you
I truly love you…I compliment you…I adore you…
I obsess over you…I don’t know what you would do
If you h-heard these words, out of  the buhbuhbuhbuh-blue…
Rihanna: Save me, oh savior…rescue me, oh sexy savior
Rihanna/Beyonce (duet): You’re my beloved disease…
You put my heart and mind at ease…
Please…please don’t reject me again
Where have yah been? I see your eyes – chaos and guilt brewin’
Rihanna: Save me, oh savior…rescue me, oh sexy savior…
Rihanna: Save me, oh you naughty savior…rescue me, oh sexy, surreal and 
beloved savior…I’m as strong as a soldier…

*Chorus*

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…
Take away my flaws…
And give me a big applause
Let go of all worries
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!

*Verse 17*
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: Answer your phone…x3 Don’t leave me alone
On my own, I’m a broken bone…dry as a bone
But, I just wanna shout:
What now? I just can’t figure it out
I don’t wanna wait it out – I need you as quickly as possible…I need you not to 
depart from my arms and tell me if I’m on a good start
I need your satisfaction without a smack of doubt – 
Our love is irresistible – so magical, it’s so crystal clear that you’re here with me in 
heart
You're a wonderful savior and we share our irresistible love...I'm hoping this 
delicate heart won't shatter apart . . .


Long poem by David William Breidenthal | Details |

Haven't Forgotten You

Sipping in solitude inaudibly,
I feel left behind like an orphan child, 
Waiting for a stranger’s ride, 
I was left on the front steps of someone else’s house and I’m left to be
An introverted child, brokenhearted, but slightly has a wild side
It’s as silent as the grave 
I act as if nothing’s happening, 
But commotion is surrounding me 
As if I’m the ship, 
Caught in the middle of the wistful, reckless waters 
Train me to walk close behind you
I don’t want to feel…for you neither do I want to feel
This blasted bittersweet emotions, 
Making me weep with many tears of bleakness
Hopelessly, I walk the mercy road alone, 
Since no one’s willing to risk their lives for me..
What am I gonna do? Play the victim now? 
I’d rather travel on my own
I’d rather disown this feeling I feel – it’s so real, you see?
Do you hear me calling to you desperately?
I’m losing my direction – I need you, reliable emerald compass you!
 Who designed you so articulately? 
Who found an emerald stone this beautiful?
Who granted me luck tonight? Can it be?
Can it really be you? 
You haven’t forgotten me after all…
After all, I haven’t had a day without you racing through my mind
Now, you’re hidden gold – a fantastic, splendid find!
I thought I was blind…but your shine is making me blind!
I close my eyes in attempt to feel my way through darkness
I have found you…at the end of the tunnel…
I slip unto the sparkly pavement and we huddle 
Underneath the bridge and the traffic overhead
You kissed me with hope pressed on your lips, flawless as ever – 
I don’t feel dead with dread…I don’t feel like I’m…actually not losing my head!
When you leave my sight, the daylight dims
When you depart from the light, my heart feels unsettling whims
The river will keep on flowing as long as you postion me next to glistening sunset
The atmosphere is changing and the wind is whistling its sad, sad tunes of regret
I’m a stranger to love, but it seemed like love met my eyes and I fell in love
Love at first sight is on another level of brilliance 
Do tell me: are you an angel from up above?
Are you a tranquil, heavenly dove? 
I don’t want to pretend that you’re here when I’m proven wrong…
Are you real or are you a fantasy? 
This isn’t the end, so let me lend you a helping hand 
The world will merrily share with us its happiness
A happiness that was unknown to me…
life’s an everlasting, admirable song
It’s well-written from the start 
Keep spinning with me like a merry-go-round
If you refuse to do so, I’ll be left all alone in the abyss
I’ll be dancing with my lonely ghost of a mistress…
I’m seeking to be with you
For future progress and also because 
My heart has declared its love for you…
Didn’t you get the clue? 
Haven’t you known long ago? 
It’s a love, shimmering anew!
But, I gottah get a grip…
or we’ll never have the time of our lives forever,
You mend me like a wound on a soldier’s leg –
I’m unsure if you still love me, 
however, you encouraged me to endure…
You’re not a curse…if that’ll make you feel better, not worse!
Let me repeat that with a little more emphasis – you’re not at all a curse
You’re a dream come true, a gift, an oath, a bliss-healing cure!
There’s a way for us to escape our mighty fearsome fates
We’re on thin ice – do you mind if I hand you a pair of skates? 
Slipping and stumbling and falling on my bum, 
Happily blushing and brushing it aside for a time
I feel like you’ve chewed me up like distasteful gum
I know we had a good time tonight, 
but I want your night to be…well…sublime…
And let the time flip on like an ancient dime 
I haven’t forgotten you – I’ll pick you up from the grime of the past
It’s time to be partners in crime!
My passion towards you is so extremely vast 


Long poem by Audonus Taylor | Details |

Real Words

My false reality is a normal man,
owned by financial security, slave to
the essentials and more, much 
more.
My desired existence is that of an 
artist,
a wordsmith, a bard, a writer with 
potential
beyond measure and degrading 
limitations.
Lately, the two overlap and become 
one
for sake of survival...

Concrete floors, blistered feet, and a 
fear
that I have given up on the dream,
the one goal that keeps me above 
mediocre.
Though my effort surpasses most 
destined
general laborers, I feel the normalcy 
taking hold of and overshadowing 
the life I need,
the existence that calls to me like a 
lover on
the nights when settling seems too 
simple.

And I break my back and bruise my 
ego
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 
moments
into the foundation of my 
nightmares...
How do I compete with failure?
A question that kills the confidence 
obtained
over years of painting my soul on 
blank paper.

Should I be meant to be "average",
Should I be destined to be a lost 
talent that
never found the title I so desperately 
seek,
Why do these words come to me so 
freely?
Why do I bleed ink and bandage the 
wound
in hours of devoted creativity that 
comes
from nowhere less than a place that 
soothes like home to a veteran 
soldier?
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 
label
me as a waste of time for a 
paycheck...
No insight into my work past a few 
pages,
No knowledge of my struggle past a 
query.
And the silence, the god damned 
silence,
is a toddler seeing death for the first 
time.
A constant and typical experience 
that breaks
me down to a weeping infant prone 
to fear.
Fear that is born of a man reaching 
for purpose but grasping only the 
cold emptiness
of air stained by nothingness, the 
worst kind.

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 
asunder the
very spirit of a man to the point of 
mental illness and a longing to lose 
the yearning.
It hurts...
Yet the pain acts as motivation to do 
more..
to "be" more...with no direction 
towards
a first step to any path or road right 
for me.
And the urge to give up multiplies to 
undeniable and unbearable 
reasoning...
Like a victim to an attacker,
Just a means to survive and 
acceptance
of the shame of being broken in 
every way.

Yet through it all, I work...
Then I do what comes naturally...
I cling to the hope that I am what I 
appear.
I clench the idea that my words 
matter,
And I survive on selling my time, my 
life
for eating and living long enough to 
find
my voice, the one that will hold their 
ears
and capture their eyes in the gaze of 
passion.
My reality sits on my chest and rides 
my
slowly sinking shoulders...
It's the nightmare made too vividly
but seems essential to this false 
identity.

And though this is the only life I can 
touch now...
It is the words that still remain as 
real to me
as the first moment I discovered 
them...
And for this reason, I swallow my 
agony
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 Genevieve Stevens | Details |

Venus and the Soldier Ant

Venus politely introduced herself to the passing soldier ant,
The ant did gaze for long, at the pretty crimson plant-
The ant was impress by Venus's beauty, and listened to her talk,
And even thought them pretty, the seven leaves upon her stalk-
Not to go unnoticed, were the fine spindles that lined her door,
The ant felt no more splendor, could a beautiful plant ask for-

After admiring her appearance, the ant started a friendly chat,
And very soon thereafter, landed a shiny green little gnat-
Venus's eyes diverted away from her newly made ant friend,
"Let's get together next week, then more time together we'll spend-
I have many things to do, before the sun lays down to rest,"
The ant walked away, turned around, and blew a kiss before it left-

Venus stared at the ant until it disappeared from her sight,
The shiny green little gnat was still there, never thinking to take flight-
"Come a little closer," she said, "My eyesight is kind of poor,"
The little green gnat did what she asked, then entered the pretty front door-
Venus had a wonderful sleep, her stomach was full and content,
Garden guests danced all around - they knew her energy was spent-

Venus slept in for almost a week, she had really enjoyed her guest,
Now the sun peeked over from the east, waking the flowers from their rest-
The crimson lady yawned, then smiled to greet the new day,
The birds alerted the garden bugs, it was time to get away-
It was late in the afternoon, when the soldier ant again came by,
Venus noticed it right away, from the corner of her eye-

"I was worried you wouldn't return," she said with a charming grin,
"You're so good looking, I missed you, why don't you please come in?"
The ant hesitated, standing not too close to her side,
"Good morning pretty lady," he said, "but I'm afraid I told you a lie-
I never break a promise, but the queen has called for me,
Tomorrow would be a better day, for us together to be-"

The soldier ant stared at Venus, never once blinking either eye,
Something seem not quite right, and it couldn't figure out why-
As the ant was about to leave, there landed a butterfly moth,
It noticed that from Venus's door, came a bit of bubbly froth-
Venus quickly flattered the ant and then politely rushed it away,
Turning to the moth she said, "Won't you come in and play?" 

The next day the ant came back, with Venus it wanted to talk,
But her door was tightly closed, so around the garden it walked-
There was chattering all around, about the "lady" going to sleep,
One of the garden bugs said aloud, "We'll be safe for about a week!"
The ant noticed other plants had company on them or very near,
Other than some faint outlines, Venus's area was exceptionally clear-

After marching around, the ant thought "What am I missing here?"
"There's something very suspect about the crimson lady, I fear,"
Then lightning fast, a memory flash, about a poem the queen once read,
About a fly, tricked with flattering words, ended up in a spider's den dead-
And there was something strange, about those outlines on the ground,
Upon closer inspection, the soldier ant was startled by what was found!

There could be no denying now, about what Venus liked to eat,
And invitations to "please come in" had been spoken with deceit-
The ant was sure that those who obliged, were taken by surprise,
And felt a terrible sadness about, how they came to meet their demise-
The soldier ant had learned what's important, when making a new friend,
It's not the beauty on the outside that counts, but only the beauty within!





Long poem by Brian Johnston | Details |

Views of a Dark Canyon

(By Youth, Beauty, and Age)      

MISS YOU, BRO! 

To: My bro, The heaven, God’s Palace

Dear One, 

All the fights
That we had in the nights, 
Cross across my mind …
And now they all feel kind, 
‘Cos they brought me near to you.
‘Cos they made us who we were….
I remember, 
The thoughts we shared.
All the dangers we dared.
All the boats we made.
And you understood, 
My silence unsaid….
You were younger than me, 
But in many ways you were the elder.
More brave, More truthful.
More loving and More youthful…
You were there for me, 
When I needed you …
But now, you are lost...
And never to return………
Even in the face of death, 
You were brave.
You died like a soldier.
And in my mind you, 
Always live like that…
You could have taken me, 
I would have readily come.
But you didn’t bother to ask.
And now, 
I am stuck up here…
I know, 
To die like you, 
We have to be brave.
Also, I know, 
To live here without you, 
I have to be brave …
I don’t know how I live, 
Without you by my side…
But life is a challenge, 
Which you can meet or refuse.
And I have decided to meet it.
Face to face, Eye to eye.
Heart to heart and Soul to soul…
You are, 
One in a million, 
One of a kind.
Like an eclipse, which comes? 
Once in a year, 
You came to me, 
Once in my lifetime…
No one can replace you, 
No one can erase you.
You shall live in My mind, 
My heart and My soul.
Forever and ever and ever…

From: Your Sis, People’s Paradise, The Earth 

Neethu Panicker
December 15,2013

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Fallen Riddle

An echo that is deep
Reaches the very core of my fears
A rare devotion from a love so dear
A driven, more compelling earth
Can't find such a name
A name I shall not reveal
For I shall not be so vain
To feel the presence of the mighty dead
The sorrow is like a singing sparrow
Trembling upon my premonition
As trees howl in this unforgiving wind
Tragedy, what a beautiful scene we've made
But a loss can only take so much away
An echo that is deep
I know how deep it weeps
To he who watches over me
Let life bring what it shall bring to me.

Beauteous Victory
February 15,2014

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Everyone Leaves / Everyone Grieves (Your Choice)      

Have you ever noticed this trend? 
It might be a drought or a war, 
Blows quick to strike and slow to mend, 
And even if I have a friend, 
Everyone leaves / everyone grieves. (your choice)              

Strangers tell me 'You seem so sad, '
Though sometimes I may find a door.
I know expectations are bad, 
But frequently I just feel had. 
Everyone leaves / everyone grieves. (your choice)              
.
It might be a dog or a cat, 
Acquaintances who are rich-poor, 
Married-single, tall-short, slim-fat, 
What experience tells me is that
Everyone leaves / everyone grieves. (your choice)              

It seems so sad every man dies, 
Still some seem to dare hope for more: 
Though I raise my eyes to the skies
The beauty around me just flies. 
Everyone leaves / everyone grieves. (your choice)      

Brian Johnston
December 21,2013


Long Poems