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absence abuse
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class clothes
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Long Storm Poems | Long Storm Poetry

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

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by wala na | Details |

Tahan na, Glenda -typhoon Rammasun

I can't sleep right now, and I guess I just needed to 'voice' umm type out my 
thoughts somehow.... as I type this, the wind is howling and I hear the whoosh 
of rain...and through it all, I hear a croaking frog.

At times when there are typhoons, I do tend to step outside and just watch, BE there firsthand, such a mere fraction (nothing compared to, actually), to what others experience, since I can always just run back inside if it gets dangerous. For others, the danger is real... I do like to feel the typhoon (a different aspect, I guess I find a certain thrill to it) but knowing how it can also be so dangerous, also grounds me.

Typhoon Rammasun (Glenda) has been gaining strength the past day (flights have been cancelled, classes and even government work have been suspended and a lot of areas are placed in storm signals ranging from 1 to 3)--we are at signal 3 where I am... it is slow-moving, meaning it can gather more strength as it moves and this also affects a lot of areas in the central and mainly northern part of my country.

A lot of areas here are prone to flooding, are already being flooded and the 
danger of storm surges is also very imminent... hundreds of thousands have already been evacuated, and hopefully those who refused to leave their homes earlier, took warnings to heart and evacuated.... it was still sunny this morning, so it could have been quite deceiving, I guess.

In fairness to the local governments, they do what they can do, taking preemptive measures in evacuation, with typhoon Yolanda still fresh in our hearts and minds.

What is disheartening is that those who can be severely affected would be 
those who have less in life, the informal settlers near coastal and bay areas, the 
farmers, the fishermen....as of typing this, 3 people have already been reported 
missing

There was this man featured on the news earlier, seen gathering plastic bottles 
and other trash from the bay, in order to sell, and didn't know there was an 
upcoming typhoon... 

There was a lady, who refuse to leave her home which is located in a high risk 
area, she said she'd rather ride out the storm at home, resigned, she said if it's 
your time to die, it's your time. 

Maybe it's hormones, emotions getting to me, but watching the news, saying 
our evening prayers with special intentions, I had to fight back tears. Sighs, what good would my tears do though? The heavens shed enough tears right now.

Here I am, in the comfort of my own home, safe. And others, I can just 
imagine, are feeling the wrath, with no roof over there heads. Those in 
evacuation centers, I hope they still have their houses to go home to after 
this...

 Please join me in praying with them, that they can get through this typhoon, 
safe and without injury nor death.

 I hear the rattle of what I am guessing would be our neighbor's roof. The winds are stronger now, rushing through the trees.

The frog still croaks, and I hope it will be okay (and also for all the other 
animals).


   Glenda, tahan na, tahan na.... 
      
            Glenda, hush please, hush...



** "tahan na" --- the nearest definition I can think of for this phrase would be "hush" or maybe "stop crying" 

Glenda is the local name of Typhoon Rammasun


-- to my kababayans, nette, Aiyah, and all the others, please stay safe, I hope you and your loved ones are all safe.....let's continue praying for those who are directly in this typhoon's path. Yes, the typhoon is here, but I still believe in the power of prayer, that these people be given the strength and courage to get through this typhoon, and not give up hope. I guess I just really am hoping for minimal injuries and casualties (would it be too much if I hope for zero casualties?)

God bless.


ika-16 ng Hulyo, lagpas alas dos ng umaga

**update---

Rammasun did wreak a lot of havoc in the Philippines, leaving almost a hundred dead... it also crippled electricity in a lot of provinces and cities, downing and uprooting many trees. Some areas have been declared under states of calamity.

After passing through us, Rammasun gained more strength, and turned into a super typhoon, affecting China and Vietnam. Please continue to pray for those who have been affected by it. Thank you.

Also, my heart, prayers and thoughts all go out to the victims and loved ones of Malaysian Airlines Flight MH17. It may look so hopeless right now, but like so many others, even if the situation seems so complicated, with a lot of fingers being pointed, I hope and I pray for justice, that the bodies of the victims be returned to their families. 




Long poem by Carol Eastman | Details |

That Spark of Hope

A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…


Long poem by Tuisha Sircar | Details |

Demise of the Frail and Assail of the Skies

The bird wanted to fly

But the wind wanted to blow

“Rest now bird”, said the wind

“You now take it down slow,

And let me flow.”

 

The bird accepted thinking it was a request,

And ignored the proud in his words,

She sat down on the branch to rest,

Keeping down her guards,

Unaware of what is next.

 

An hour passed,

But still the wind didn’t stop,

Now the pace became fast,

Now the wind gone, in place was the storm.

 

Unable to stand against it,

The bird felt helpless.

The emergence of automatic persuasion,

Left the bird in stress.

 

Her home is not the ground,

She lives in the sky,

Feeling gloomy and bound,

She doesn’t even try to fly.

 

She stays where she was,

And starts envying the wind,

The kind of power he has,

That brought down even the born free.

Flying is what she loves,

And the feeling of spreading the wings,

Something that cannot be expressed in words,

The beauty can only be felt within,

But when the storm persists on blowing,

The persuasion reminded the bird of a cage.

The feeling of being trapped,

Even turned down the sage,

Within the bird and now a panic engulfed,

Because everything was happening against her will,

And the storm and his manic laugh,

Harassing and shrill,

Dominating over the world with his power.

 

 Now there is water added,

Pouring everywhere from the sky,

So hard that the vision blurry and fade,

The bird now wants to hide.

And so she trusts the woods,

Under the leaves she takes shelter,

Hoping the safe place could,

Understand and help the helpless her.

But today even the trees are of no help,

The rain is too heavy,

No matter where she hides,

Towards her somehow it will glide.

 

A day passed but still the storm wasn’t satisfied,

He kept on blowing,

Kept dominating the little with pride,

But the bird was now over sorrowing,

So, she decided to challenge the flowing.

 

And it seemed like years had passed,

Since the bird took a flight,

Into the blue and those effects that lasted,

Of serenity, luxury and rights.

 

Now the tolerance was coming to an end,

Her loud chirping of frustration speaks,

And so she comes out of the safe place and,

Into the grey she leaps.

 

It’s like, she dares the storm,

Even though she knows it’s futile,

The proud in him confirms,

That the end could be brutal.

But the little now doesn’t care,

She just wants to fly.

 

The storm does see the bird’s hindrance,

But would not understand the heart,

He will do what he wants,

That is what he is doing from the start.

He will choose when to come,

His wish no one can predict,

When his fun will become,

A thing getting vapid,

He’ll spare the imploring planet.

 

 

The rain can be the reason of someone’s laughter,

It can also make one morose.

The torrent of pouring water,

Is also something he does.

If his will says,

It’ll be a shower of delight.

If he wants it to be the other way,

It can become an element of fright.

 

Now after going a mile,

The bird is in terror,

Still the storm being hostile,

And the bird being the bearer.

 

Though she is tired,

But hasn’t lost all hopes,

And so with eyes like angel she desired,

The thoughts of good and optimism.

But when she looked up with faith,

And saw the grey sky,

She fatigue and her pale breath,

But still she flies.

 

“Stubborn she is no less”,

Thinks the storm, and now he the outrageous,

Losing his charge on the rage,

The sky shines a red that’s vicious.

Then from somewhere a lightning bolt,

Suddenly strikes before the bird,

While she runs from the jolt,

Several others in her surround appeared.

She moves carefully,

But the storm is furious,

And he would not stop,

Until he becomes victorious.

 

Then a surprising tremor ripples,

Through her and little’s every part stops,

Down the bird with rush tumbles,

With eyes full of teardrops,

And her vision turns grey,

But did she lose the fray?

 

As the bird, hit the soil,

She remembered a life,

A life that never once gave her the turmoil,

But always love in rife.

Also a light that the bird saw,

When she first opened her eyes,

Now got vacuumed,

Leaving behind the blackness of demise.

 

The storm witnessed the whole saga,

But still he won’t remorse,

A beautiful little lay dead down,

Sometime else, again a creature would morose,

Because the nefarious never bows.


Long poem by Darian Rehder | Details |

Love, Death, and Rebirth

The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Her father. 

Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.

She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left 
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too. 

She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before 
And growing darker day by day 
But she wouldn't let that stop her. 

Suddenly a year had passed... and then two 
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
Anyone...

With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries 
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light 
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand

The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives 
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.

She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
It would.

So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself

She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it 
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.

That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late 
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.

She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared,  and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying

Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn

Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!

And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here

So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?


Long poem by Lyric Man | Details |

VOLCANO

Yo, Guys, 
Check it out!

Volcanoes blow, 
some fast... some slow

All right stop, 
hear me out and listen
Mountain outta nothing, 
Mother Nature's invention
Deep within the earth, 
pressure grows tightly
The molten lava flows, 
daily and nightly
Looking to escape, 
gotta find a place to go
An unexpected pop, 
or a never ceasing flow
Incinerating path, 
or a bursting burning vandal 
Spewing rock and gas, 
or a deadly dripping candle

Composite volcano, 
erie calm then cataclysmic boom
Pyroclastic chaos, 
a deadly poisonous mushroom
Deadly fiery mass, 
a leaping rock lava melody
Spreading ash for miles, 
a majestic tragedy
When the mountain ignites, 
betta get out of her way
In a matter of moments, 
she'll make night outta day
Composite volcano, 
Yo.. study and try to solve it
A spontaneous temper tantrum, 
no way to resolve it

Volcanic explosive debris, 
andesite and dacite rock
Goes off when she wants, 
oh no.. not set to your clock
Mayon Volcano Philippines, 
and Mount Fuji in Japan
Part of the "Rim of Fire", 
that still amazes modern man
The majesty of Mount Rainer, 
lies in Washington state
Pillar into the sky, 
jaw dropping she's so great 
Conical rough hued mountain, 
so steep at the vent
A composite volcano, 
BAM.. an explosive event!

Cinder cone volcano, 
gets its name from falling ash
What goes up in smoke, 
comes down in smoldering crash
Steep slopes like a Composite, 
but its flat at the top
Much smaller than a Shield, 
less deadly in its fiery pop
But what's truly outstanding, 
how quick this mount can grow
In 9 years from that 43' cornfield, 
the magnificent Paricutin in Mexico
There's the Sunset Crater in Arizona, 
Lava Butte in Oregon
These treasures known for beauty, 
and much less for brawn

Shield volcano, 
incredibly powerful without jumping
Mountain continually grows, 
as liquid fire keeps pumping 
Heat beyond belief, boiling river.. 
there's no mistaking
Takes out everything in its path, 
no lying, I'm not faking
Slow dancing combustion, 
that forms layers of smooth rock
A night and day red rumble, 
a never ceasing tick tock  
She's a five degree angle, 
of two thousand degree basalt 
Her flow over many miles, 
a deadly unrelenting assault 

Magma from the mantle burns, 
a hole in lithospheric plate
A flaming searing inferno, 
a blazing scorching lake
Mauna Loa and Kilauea, 
spatter ramparts curtains of fire
These are Hawaii's highest peaks, 
and tourist great desire.
But the tallest of all, 
on the Red Planet ya see its scars
Higher than three Mount Everest, 
Olympus Mons of Mars
She once was a warrior in battle, 
unceasing and aglow
Advancing and defeating, 
the most massive shield volcano!

But ya can't talk volcanos, 
leave Mount Saint Helen's off da map
Wouldn't be good science, 
no rhyme to reason in dat info rap
She was the most notorious catastrophic eruption, 
May 18, 1980
A massive debris avalanche, 
was triggered by this angry lady 
The most destructive in US history,
"Teach" remembers that day
When it "snowed" ash across America, 
in the middle of May.

Sponsor: Jared Pickett
Contest Name: Collaboration 



Long poem by Eve Roper | Details |

A Storming Symphony

                                               A Storming Symphony

                            The calm before the storm opened up with fury
                  Unnerving silence filled the air with almost complete darkness
                                                A storm crept within
                                                    Purely focused
                                              It swelled up and draws
                                         Through an angry, filled breath
                                         With a vicious voice eased back
                            Exploded once and for all with wet droplets of rain
                                                   A wrenching sound
                                            And a crack of light and fire
                                  Shaking everything through and through
                                             Orange fire and flickering
                                            Light reflected on the valley
                                     The silence was interrupted seconds later
                                      The fury inside continues to grow
                                              It punched a fist again
                                                With a raging crack
                            Horrific piercing sounds and bright lights danced
                                  Filling the air with a roar of angry Lions

                                         Thunder rolled across the sky
                                               It couldn't stop itself
                              And starts opening the symphony once more
                                                Fueled by adrenaline
                                     Thunderbolts of pure terror flashed
                                              Slamming and crashing
                                                     Out-of-control
                 An awful electric shock waves cracked plummeted to the ground
                               Connecting and sinking into the soaked soil

                                         A surprisingly calm came over
                                         And soothed the storm within
                                               Moving on with a view
                               Off the top of the trees and blue sky beyond

                                                The battle was won
                                            Precious crystal clear rain
                                         Soaked the life on the ground
© 4/7/2015


Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

What a sacrifice Sublime

About two thousand years ago
In the early morning hours of a cool day
When the wind was calm and the Sun had just 
Started showing his sign in east 

A small vessel boat standing near the shore
Was getting ready to move, after taking on its board,  
A number of scholars, with their heavy load of knowledge
Lying near the boat, were the bundles full of load* 
Which some scholars were trying to put on board
To carry away the much labored treasure of books* 
For its final long journey from a near by seaport

These books were translated by scholars
Both Indians and Chinese, in more than a decade
Learning in those day’s early universities
Was possible only after tough labor 
And facing hardest living ways 
The priceless knowledge of that world
Was not much known to all those 
Living in Beijing, Athens or Rome
Was being taken out of India to light-up 
The dark areas and different paths of the globe

The Indian scholars with five others 
Had come from university of Nalanda
To see off their Chinese guests up-to the port of Kalika
And wanted to go upto an inland near the shore  
To say adieu and Good Bye, to their friends on board  
The island was few miles away from the shore 
From there the guest scholars, were going to start alone
Their long journey to far Far-East on their own

Ten years companionship had tied them in a bond 
They came to say adieu to host scholars Shing and Yang
The boat was small but full of load 
With crewmen and scholars
And lots of handwritten books on board

The boat left the shallow seashore 
For the near by more deep Kalika port, 
From there the boat was destined 
For its final journey towards Far East 
Towards an unknown land and shore


The wind had hardly driven them few miles away
When a crewman saw a storm coming from west  
And saw the boat was staggering on waves
With heavy weights on it, its chances of survival was at stake

The storm was getting rough and waves were roaring high
A voice came from behind, to throw the books in sea
To save the boat and lives on board 

The host scholars, who were eight 
Knew the value of that work sublime
Took a decision to throw them selves instead of books 
To save the torch of knowledge lighted up by them  
In the form of manuscript’s load sublime 
And said only ‘Good Bye’ to those on board
Before anyone could have understood 
They all jumped into the sea and lost without a sign 
The Chinese scholars exclaimed! ‘What a sacrifice Sublime’
 

Ravindra

*manuscripts (on Bhogpatras-A tree leaf used in early days)


Long poem by Shadow Hamilton | Details |

The Drove

The trail was long and very dusty
great clouds churned up by hooves
of the vast herd being wrangled on
300 more miles of eating their dust

Bandana's tightly wrapped round faces
cries of "get up there" ringing out
bawling calves separated from mothers
hiss of hot branding irons scorching

A rumbling constantly moving mass
stretching back as far as eyes can see
horses reeling back and forth, pushing
always pushing them on, 200 miles to go

Storm is approaching as they settle down
tightly bunched up wranglers keeping watch
hard as nails falls the rain, lashing down
cattle milling round and round as flashes

Of lightning light up the sky causing 
restless beasts to try to break and flee away
tumultuous thunder now joining in causing panic
"Keep them circling, don't let them break out"

Came the cries of the foreman as they tried to hold 
chuck wagon knocked over as through camp they run
woe to anyone on foot or even a thrown rider
"keep them going south, They will stop at the river"

Gradually the storm quietens and dies down
first light shows how scattered they are
some needing to be shot where they lay mangled
the rest pushed through the river to the plains

Here they can be regrouped, lush grasses to eat
no urgency now 10 miles or so a day we push them
letting them gain some more weight, 50 miles to go
the foreman sends two men on to warn the yards

At last they see the rail tracks, only 15 miles away
"one last big push lads and we will have them there
tonight we will wet our whistles and eat like kings"
hot tubs to soak in, washing away dirt that is caked

We push them into the waiting pens as they bawl and churn
settled now with fresh hay and water the plaintive calls
of mothers looking for their calves, the wranglers push 
them together keeping the bulls apart, they will ship first

Now work is done, 800 miles or so we have driven them
it is time to relax and let our hair down, find ladies
of the night with which to dally for awhile, some poker
played, several fights break out over who gets which one

As dawn breaks low rumbles from the pens as the cattle stir
the town but for a few still fast asleep, until the train
spitting steam and smoke arrives, and buyers now alight
many offers are made and rejected out of hand, these cows

Are already sold to keep our armies fed as they war against
the Maverick Indians, that are plundering the homesteads
30,000 at first of drove, now reduced to 27,000 or so
loaded up on the train our job is done we are homeward bound    

written 09/17/2013

contest Epic Only


Long poem by Debbie Guzzi | Details |

The Adventure of My Boy and Mumbo Jumbo

.....Mommy walks and Jamie toddles inside the BIGGEST plane. 
Jamie thought he was inside its belly. The storm roars outside. 
The thunder is loud inside the metal beastie. They sit. Lightening flashes. 
Jamie screams “No!” The plane swallows them like Pinocchio in the whale! 
Jamie thought of his toy plane at home.
    The REAL Mumbo Jumbo jet roars, speeding down the runway. “Good morning everyone.” 
A voice says “This is your Captain for the flight from Bangor to New York. Once we’re above 
the clouds the weather should clear. Remain in your seats.” Jamie wasn’t going anywhere. 
“How’d Mumbo Jumbo get so big?” Jamie thinks. He looks out the port hole at the lights. 
Jamie begins talking to the plane. Mumbo Jumbo roars and whooshes, as if to reply. “Is that 
you little one?” The planes vents ask. “How’d you get so small?” “Mommy and Daddy made 
me!” He chatters to the drone of the engines. “Mommy and Daddy are makers? Oh that it 
explains it. That’s How you new my name.” Mumbo hisses. “Makers know everything. What’s 
your name, Tiny?”
    “Mommy calls me My Boy.”
    “You will be My Boy too!.” Says Mumbo. “For this ride I will take care of you and mommy.”
    “But, but YOU ATE US!” Jamie whimpers. “Why’d you do that?” 
    “Ate you? I didn’t eat you My Boy. I’m keeping you safe inside me, just like Mommy did 
before you were born.” BOOM went the thunder. Crackle ZAP went the lightening.
    Jamie screams. Mumbo Jumbo rises up, up above the storm and into the sunlight. A round 
circle of lemony yellow falls into Jamie’s lap. It was so warm. He stops crying. The clouds 
look like cotton balls out the window just like the fields in Peter Rabbit story!
    Mommy let Jamie down and he runs up the aisles. He chases the lady with the orange 
juice! He peeks in a tiny room with a potty! Suddenly, his ears hurt and he runs to Mom. 
She’s brought his old bottle and sucking it makes his ears pop! After a lunch of fruit, Mom 
gives him cookies on the small table. Soon a voice comes through the air “We will be landing 
at the airport in five minutes. Return to your seats! Buckle –up! “Daddy?” Jamie says. “No, 
the pilot!” Mom smiles. “Ready to land My Boy?”
    Jamie was bouncing with excitement. The plane bounces and jiggles across the 
runway. “Thank you!” Jamie says to both “Mum’s”
“You’re welcome.” Mumbo Jumbo and Mommy say.
    Off they go to Grandpa’s arms, and with a bye wave of wing the plane leaves.
    “Good bye My Boy.” Mumbo Jumbo roars! “See ya next time!”

	


Long poem by julie Cottingham | Details |

LONELY


I watch the passage of the sands of time
As the gold and red combine on fire in the falling sunset
Yesterday I was content
Alas my dreams now scatter unto dust
I cling in desperation try to keep hold of the burnt out ashes 
When the time comes
As the last grain falls through the hourglass
I am resigned to my demise
For I shall see her ne'er again, not least upon sunrise

Icicles in place of tears fall from frozen eyes
For I shall see you ne'er again, not least upon sunrise
I tried in vain to fight against the finality of time
How eloquent the vessel
The transparent hourglass
In different circumstances we may not of even met
Still I shall see her ne'er again not least upon sunset
Deliver me unto the ground
Beneath the storm cloud crashes 
Where my remnantsfind release
Where I may rest in ashes

Faster, falling, silently time fills the hourglass
I guess it deems fair and just
This end of days like scattered dust
In different circumstances we may of made it yet
Still I shall see you ne'er again not least upon sunset
Master of the unknown fate
Ti's you I now despise
For I shall see her ne'er again, not least upon sunrise
I tried in vain to fight against the relentlessness of time
Cat of nine so sharp so keen
The agony of lashes
Lay me finally to my rest
Dispersed in crumbled ashes

Surrender as I raise my flag
As to the end I now call time
In different circumstances would you of been mine? 
Still yet I shall see you ne'er again
Not least upon sunset
I scream and shout it's so unjust this end of days like scattered dust
Heavens open angrily
The thunder storm clashes
Don't lay me finally to my rest dispersed in crumbled ashes
Faster, falling, silently time fills the hourglass
Lord spare me from this awful place hear this sinners cries
For I shall see her ne'er again, not least upon sunrise

I drift away to different days, to childhood and girls in sashes
Until they lay me finally to my rest, a delicate mass of ashes
Faster, falling, silently time fills the hourglass
Resolute and pacified, I invite the end of time
Into the hands of my saviour I accept the death to dust
Lord welcome me from this awful place hear this sinners cries
For I shall see her ne'er again not least upon sunrise
In different circumstances, there;d be no sweet regret? 
Still I shall see her ne'er again not least upon sunset

My ashes entwined within the falling sands of the hourglass
As time departs I turn to dust
From sunset to sunrise, I see her ne'er more


Long Poems