Long poem by
Mary Oliver Rotman | Details |
Randomling 1: Matthew Macfadyen
I believe I'm in love with Matthew Macfadyen
He inspires in me a terribly bad yen
But as poetry goes
His name 'spires woes
Cause nothing rhymes with "Macfadyen”.
Randomling 2: Birthday Wishes
For my birthday, I would like a man.
I wonder---can you get one from a can?
Or maybe from a catalog?
Maybe I'll just get a dog.
Randomling 3: Yet Another Cat Poem
toddlers in fur
senior citizens with retractable claws
lions in their own minds
lunch in the minds of dogs.
Randomling 4: Desert Woes
A sage river in a field of sand:
so flows hope in a barren land;
the crippled heart in prosthetic steel,
hacked and scarred, a vulture’s meal.
Randomling 5: Dark Poetry
Follow poetry to its source;
There find heartbreak and remorse.
Follow poetry to the bitter end,
And there find death, its bosom friend.
Randomling 6: Ode to Bananas
an underappreciated fruit
sentenced to banananality
because yellow is their long suit.
Randomling 7: Untitled
this heart is closed to deposits.
There's no more room for pain.
Randomling 8: Untitled
My heart is sealed in a cold steel vault,
and I’ve lost the combination.
Randomling 9: Joyce Kilmer 2015
I think that I shall never see
A man as useful as a tree.
One has uses by the score;
The other one is apt to snore.
Randomling 10: Bedtime Prayers
Now I lay me down to sleep,
A leaden heart is mine to keep.
If I should die before I wake--
Now there’s an offer I’d gladly take.
Randomling 11: The Devil Wind
Fury with a smoky tail
Eddies of destruction
Deceitful beauty, enchanting danger
Death sporting a makeover
DON'T READ #12 IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ME TALK TO MY SON ABOUT CERTAIN ASPECTS OF THE BIRDS AND BEES_________________________
Randomling 12: A Boy's Best Friend
Your penis—it is not a toy
I told my little son.
O yes it is, he parried me
It's quite my favorite one.
Randomling 13: Fault Lines
I have a bathroom mirror
that's grown faulty over time.
My reflection is no longer true;
it's developed little lines!
Randomling 14: Shakespeare 101
“To be or not to be. That is the question.”
--Whaddya mean, THE question?
Randomling 15: Christmas?
Peace on earth to men of good credit
Who give the gift of corporate profit
in the holy name of commercialism.
Randomling 16: Musical Believer
Though my conscience sleeps,
wrapped in the Valium of
agnosticism, it awakens to
the music of Mozart--
once more knowing God
by the sound of His voice.
Randomling 17: Vacuum
I didn't write a poem when you died.
The words would not come.
Perhaps I felt too deeply,
perhaps not enough;
maybe I died too. 10/06/01
Randomling 18: Insanity
Insanity is underrated
Its drawbacks,much overstated.
How else to do what you darn well please
And accomplish it with so much ease?
Randomling 19: Dog Day Afternoon
WATER! BALL! CHASE!
salt, waves, undertow
I don't know what's going
on here, but I'm HAPPY!
Randomling 20: Opposites Attract
i am matter---love, antimatter
never to meet save to explode
i am space, love is time
parallel dimensions never to meet
Randomling 21: Puppy Love
I ride a leaky newspaper raft
Adrift on the linoleum
Anxiously awaiting an
An attack of smelly
covered in fuzz:
Randomling 22: Newton's Poultice
Apple falls from tree
Newton (ouch!) takes notice
Comes up with law of gravity
while wearing a poultice
on the solstice
Randomling 23: Ticking
And the clock on the wall kept on ticking
while my life fell apart all around me.
Sweet memories faded to shadow
as my heart fell to pieces inside me.
And the clock on the wall kept on ticking
Relentlessly ticking, ticking
While my life fell apart all around me.
Randomling 24: Untitled
a mosaic assembled from
tiles of delight and
black-glazed stones of despair
in seamless beauty
Randomling 25: Seasonal Lament
end at both end
as summer falls into the
arm of winter. arm
Randomling 26: Untitled
I didn't want
to love you.
Randomling 27: Pills
Depression is days and nights curled fetal-like
in a dark room, no interest in the world outside,
idly wondering if there are enough
pills in the bottle to kill you,
then thinking it's not worth the effort
to find out because you're dead inside already.
Randomling 28: Guilt By Association
Fresh morning light frames
the cat, surrounded by piles of
dirt and deceased plants,
Randomling 29: Bell the Cat
How do you give a cat a bath?
Maybe you can do the math.
All I know is she stinks to high heaven.
And of us there are only seven.
How many humans to bathe a cat?
Definitely more than where we're at!
Randomling 30: Muse
I want to write a poem
using the word gossamer.
Randomling 31: Ripples
Canoes rock gently
under the waxing moon.
Black water ripples,
painting a beautiful scene
under the scented pines.
Randomling 32: Sunshine Waterfall
I cleanse my face in a sunshine waterfall,
luxuriate in a sunshine shower.
Waterfall flow and warm me;
sprinkle lemon drops through my hair.
Randomling 33: Salon Treatment
Hurricanes scour everything
they touch, then rinse and blow
Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman
Long poem by
binibining P.iNk | Details |
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
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
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
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
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?)
ika-16 ng Hulyo, lagpas alas dos ng umaga
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.
Copyright © binibining P.iNk
Long poem by
Carol Eastman | Details |
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…
Copyright © Carol Eastman
Long poem by
Tuisha Sircar | Details |
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.
Copyright © Tuisha Sircar
Long poem by
Darian Rehder | Details |
The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.
She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too.
She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before
And growing darker day by day
But she wouldn't let that stop her.
Suddenly a year had passed... and then two
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand
The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.
She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself
She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.
That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.
She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared, and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying
Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn
Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!
And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here
So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?
Copyright © Darian Rehder
Long poem by
Lyric Man | Details |
Check it out!
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
or a bursting burning vandal
Spewing rock and gas,
or a deadly dripping candle
erie calm then cataclysmic boom
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
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
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
Copyright © Lyric Man
Long poem by
Eve Roper | Details |
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
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
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
Copyright © Eve Roper
Long poem by
Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |
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’
*manuscripts (on Bhogpatras-A tree leaf used in early days)
Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor
Long poem by
Shadow Hamilton | Details |
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
contest Epic Only
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton
Long poem by
Debbie Guzzi | Details |
.....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!”
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi