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
Randomling 34: My Window
Blue sky pokes its face
through the canopy of trees.
Heat wave is over!
Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
binibining P.oiNkk | 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.oiNkk | Year Posted 2014
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 | Year Posted 2013
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 | Year Posted 2013
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 | Year Posted 2013
Long poem by
uriel wisdom | Details |
I Am Who I Am
Date: Wed, Dec 23 2015 at 8:11 PM
I don't wear no disguise
My True Self I can't hide
Without God I don't want to Rise
I like to look at the Storms Rage an Waves an its tides
I not Surprised of the Storm preys on my Demise
God is real and He's not far to find
I fight to win the ultimate prize
But this not a race between you and I
I can prove I'm not like these other guys
Light in me bright as the Sunrise
So I got to let my Sun Shine
But the Moon comes an tries to make the Sun Die
Life is a roller coaster but it's a fun ride
Just to ride it one time
I like to let my wings Skydive
An fly like an Eagle through the Cloud Smiles
If you want to fly with me be ready for the Clouds Vows
The Storm in this Life
No need to be afraid when the Thunder Sounds
Got to be Strong when Weak & Strife
Won't pay you to fly with me through the Nights
Cause I'm destined for great Heights
An we all destined in destiny's Sight
To meet her you will have to fight & Sacrifice
To choose live Right
Use your God Given Gifts to Strike
Your Art from the Sparks
That you Draw
Life is like a See Saw
Still Unique from the feats of my Flaws
Come to my room you'll see all the Writings on the Wall
If God not clapping for me there's no need for a Applause
I take a Bow when I get Heavens Standing Ovation
I Mediate on Mountains right now I'm on the Appalachians
Just for Higher Meditation
At a Height of Elevation
Just to listen to my Higher Self for Revelations
The Evil & Good Thoughts that's Incinerating
I can feel negative energy when it's Waving
I Listen to the music in my heart an Listen to what it's saying
We can be Godly and Satanic
Show Love & Hate in the Same Formations
Off and On Manipulations
I'm chasing God & Greatness
I'll be damned if the devil take it
They say you got to fake it to make it
Nah I'm to be Patient & Dedication
With Concentration until the Conformation Confiscated
I'm too Thorough to Let Fakeness be my Acceleration
I'm Second Guessed but I don't agree with those Calculations
Or those Estimations
See here's the real Equation
I had to do Division & Multiplication
In my Circumference in my Radius
Trying to put my mark in the Pavement
From starting from the basement
To the Maintenance
To get to the highest level of the skyscrapers
I Thank God for all the Favors
An for Jesus being my Savior my Lifesaver
I see myself as the White Ranger
Fighting with my Light Saber
Against Dark Vador
Through his Dark Capers
I see the Dark Vapors
Alot of times I wish I had a Eraser
To Erase alot of unwanted choices
That made me Poison
Through my Voyage
I could of Avoided it
An Destroyed It
Instead I made an Appointment Visit
Still with my Ointment Anointment on me Written
But I'm to live with it
If you could feel what I feel it would be intensive
It's not over until God Say it is Finished
You can't see me Scars but my flaws in a Blemish
Respect for Who I Am with Suspicions from the Critics
I am still Well Winded
I don't need to fit in
I'm not a Chameleon
Cause I'm not Bending
An I'm not Blending
We is not Mixing
But I am a Chemist
When it comes to Inventing Inventions
An going through Dimensions
I write Riddles with Symbolism
You can Understand if you Encrypting Hieroglyphics
I'm a Spiritualist
I'm not Religious
But I Know God living
That's because we got a Kinship
You can learn if you study His Manuscripts
The Blueprints of why we Exist
I have Spiritual Gifts
& Psychic Wit
I'm on a Psych Trip
Using the Vastness of The Mind Ticks
So I get to using Wisdom & Enlightenment
To Release the Little Giant
To Release the Lion
To Breath out the Sirens
Inside My Mind Spiraling
Striking the Strings of The Violins
An Play the Music Inside That Spins
Copyright © uriel wisdom | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Stephen J. Vattimo | Details |
There once was a nation that was like a beautiful tall sailing ship
It’s mast were like redwood trees lined up in a forest
They bore the stainless white sails of opportunity to catch the winds of adventure and prosperity
This nation that was like a beautiful tall sailing ship
had a proud history but it wasn’t always full of smooth sailing
They had met many different faces of the storms that occur in this fallen world
They had battled their way through many storm by their faith in their Creator
He through his holy Spirit He gave them the strength of nerves of steel
He place a burning will to fight to over come their foes in them that no winds of a hurricane could blow out
He gave them a lantern of opportunism that no doubt could swallow up with it’s darkness
They rowed their ores against the waves of civil wars that tried to saw their ship into two halves
They fault against pirates who tried to commandeer ships from other lands
to plunder their booty and subjugate their crews under tyrannical rule
There came a time this nation that was like a beautiful tall sailing ship
became prideful and place their faith in their successful adventure they had and in the booty they had acquired
They decided to mutiny against the Creator
In their deluded mines they tied Him up and abandoned Him on an uncharted island
The nation that was like a beautiful tall sailing ship hoisted their sail of opportunity
to catch the winds of adventure and prosperity
when they were on their way
they took the tools that the Creator gave them to safely navigate the oceans
and threw them overboard
They decided to seek a new destiny by exploring uncharted waters
They were met by a hideous fierce ogre of a storm that open it’s mouth and swallow them whole like they were a small piece of bread
The once strong like red wood trees masts had become dry rotted by the spirit of un- thankfulness and were easy for the storm to snatch them away along with their
the storm toss the ship from one wave to another like a clown juggles balls at a circus
The spirit of courage melted inside them and they coward in a corner
For they no long had the Holy Spirit with them to give them nerves of steel
To ignite flames of a fighting spirit in them
To give them a lantern to shine a guiding light of optimism when they were lost in the darkness of hopelessness
The crew of the nation that was like a beautiful tall sailing ship
Could have use their ores to row toward safe waters
But they didn’t have the compass of the Holy Spirit to morally guide them in the right direction to the safe waters
They no long had the map the creator had given them so they could find out where they were in relationship to the boundaries of the safe and treacherous waters.
The crew of the nation that was like a beautiful tail sailing ship
Could save them self and what was left of their ship if they would untie The Creator and retrieve Him from the uncharted Island they had abandoned Him on in their deluded minds
To Swallow their pride and humbly call out to Him to rescue them from the cure hands of the storm
To confess and repent from their muteness ways
To ask the Creator to restore their ship and to enable them to sail their ship once again under His banner
By using the compass and map He has equipped them with to safely navigate the ocean of the world
Written by Stephen J.Vattimo
Sail By God's Compass And Map
Copyright © Stephen J. Vattimo | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Walter T. Ashe | Details |
"Two Trees: Mr. Oak And Mr. Bamboo"
A terrible wind storm was approaching and blowing everything out of it's path!
NOTHING....not one thing at all, could withstand it's awesome wrath!
Two trees saw this storm coming! YES!....it was coming their way!
One was Mr. Oak, the other Mr. Bamboo and very different things did they say!
* (Oh yeah, by the way, these two trees could talk!)
Now Mr. Oak tree was strong and mighty and was so solidly planted.
When in the distance he saw the wind storm, Oh!...he raved and he ranted!
"I am a mighty oak tree and I'll neither budge nor move,
what does this wind storm think it is, it's power I will disprove!"
"I don't move for any reason, and couldn't care less what that reason is!
I am the mighty oak tree and move in a breeze!!!...What madness is this???"
My stubbornness will see me through and when all is said and done,
I will still be standing right here, Mr. Bamboo, with this battle won!"
Mr. Bamboo looked too in the distance and he just so simply smiled.
It was as though he hadn't a care in the world,
though the wind storm was away less than a mile!
Mr. Bamboo looked at Mr. Oak and said quite philosophically,
"You know, sometimes bending even a little bit can help with flexibility!"
"See I do bend rather than resist and I come back stronger each time!
This helps me to avoid becoming stiff, even well into my prime!"
Mr. Oak glared hard at Mr. Bamboo and said "I don't bend for ANYONE!
When that wind storm gets here, I'll show it who's the boss,
and this will be over and done!"
The wind storm arrived with great intensity and everything was blown to and fro!
Mr. Bamboo was yielding and bending, Mr. Oak was shouting "NO!.. NO!!... NO!!!"
Mr. Bamboo was bent so far down, he was literally kissing the ground!
He then heard a "SNAP!", a "CRACKLE!" and a "CRASH!"
and Mr. Oak tree then fell down!
The wind storm moved on and the worst was over,
the clouds blew away and the sun came out!
Mr. Bamboo started rising up slowly, he moved as if he was a young sprout!
Mr. Bamboo looked over at Mr. Oak, who was clearly broken in half!
He was lying on the ground splintered and shaken,
the ultimate price paid in the storm's aftermath!
"I don't understand what happened!" Mr. Oak said, "I was so mighty and strong!"
"Nothing!...NOTHING could move me! Why did this go so wrong?"
Mr. Bamboo was empathetic and looking for the right words to say!
He sighed, looked at Mr. Oak, and this reply he did give that day....
"Yes, you were so strong and mighty and determined to stand your ground,
but there are some forces of Nature that will dumbfound and truly astound!"
"I tried to tell you about yielding, which is the natural way!
Yes, you will bend and be bowed down, but you'll spring back stronger and stay!"
So I wish you the best in your new life, where you will be surely stable,
and you will most definitely stand sturdy and strong,
as a new oak dining room table!"
Copyright © Walter T. Ashe | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
cherl dunn | Details |
Let the storms of rage pace us by my friends, for we have our islands
Of friendships resting in calmer waters, shelter coves of treasures devotions
Never to be rocked away, or relinquished!
Admits tidal shifting, know I’m always beside thee no matter what quaking
Takes place, the heart rheum of cherishment's remains the same pulse beat as mine,
For true sister ship is a binding thread never to be untethered, or unbound!
Behold a quilted tapestry, made from many fabrics of silken materials, emotional
Canvas spread wide to be shared with many souls, and across vast distances,
Beauty beguiling in its depth of structure, and magnificence!
Inspirational muses lighting each other’s way through the darkness of every days,
Tangled mysteries to life, or stressful times, we the anchors firmament to the solid
Ground to realities shores, these soul sisters bounded by loves ties!
Restrictions lightning strikes threshing at us seemingly out of control, the earth
Rattles with the thunderous roar trying to rip us apart, but remember thus
At the heart of this hurricane blast, lies the islands of friendship, the eye of the
Storm remains unshaken, study and firm!
At full sail ships may drift at high tides unpredictable wakes, yet our destinations
Headings remain constant, homeward bound towards the safe harbors of friendships
Cove beyond troubled waters of the haling hellish storm!
If my boat collides against the rocks of injustice, or pains tragedies, I’ll wrap myself beneath
The warmth of my sister ships blanket, for here beneath thy covers layers of loving
I know I’ll be safe, filled with comforts arms enveloping me within mine sisters embrace!
Guiding me do these bright stars, maps of the timeless brilliance shimmering
Within my inner being, each a unique personage that means so much to me,
Lost amongst a universal black hole, by these flickering lights I alone know my way,
For in truth I’m not alone for these mine sisters led me ever onwards!
Knocked to my knees unable to walk, or reverse my sails, their winds guide
My ship, and lift me upwards by words of encouragement, prayer and thoughts
Of strengths resolve!
Blazing comets zoom passed me above, leaving me awe struck and shivering
Like a child left in the dark, but these many hands of deliverance reach out
Within this black pit of darkness lightning my way, and place these unsteady
Feet on hard earth once more!
Circle to the cross stitching, then pulled tightly behold a rose stitching of
Perfections grace, each threaded strain representing a sisters offering
Within the sails of my life, what a beauty canvas to glaze upon at twilights
Horizon sunset, it fills me with joy, hope and peace!
Do angels exist yes, I believe in them for within my treasure chest of
Friendship are wings of ivory sister ship, and petals of rose emotions,
Behold a true heart shaped box of wondrous miracles, my soul sisters whom are
The islands of shelter within my life storm!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Robert Lindley | Details |
Into A Dark Raging Storm, Tempest And Hail
Into a dark raging storm, tempest and hail
alas, sadly all was to be to no avail.
Twelve pounders broke loose crashing about
some over the wind praying in a shout.
Prisoners chained below all in great fear
great many had shed a tortured tear.
Captured when their frigate this enemy sank
praying for their life and safe bank.
Thunder rolled and invisible hammers pound
every loud creak an ominous sound.
That morn crew had blessed the arrowy sun
and good lord for all he had done.
Now hit by waves capable of breaking stone
each man felt terror and all alone.
Moment came when ship was tossed up high
and each one saw his life pass by.
Next splashing water and cursing the sea
survivors and no ship could they see.
Down it had went with prisoners in chains
sea graveyard dead,no longer in pain.
Found one life boat still there and afloat
six sailors climbed aboard the boat.
Storm had calmed enough for them to see
they may yet hold kids on their knee.
No longer daring to swear and deeply curse
thanks gave having survived the worse.
No time to mourn the stormy sea taken dead
each prayed to a merciful God instead!
Robert J. Lindley, 10-21-2015
A frigate /'fr?g?t/ is any of several types of warship, the term having been used for ships of various sizes and roles over the last few centuries. In the 17th century, this term was used for any warship built for speed and maneuverability, the description often used being "frigate-built"
(2.)" Twelve pounder"
The twelve-pound cannon is a cannon that fires twelve-pound projectiles
from its barrel, as well as grapeshot, chainshot, shrapnel, and later
shells and canister shot. It was first used during the Tudor
period and was commonly used during the Napoleonic Wars, 1799-1815.
At this time 12 lbers were largest caliber of long-barreled field
pieces, and were used both at long range against fortifications and
troop concentrations using round shot and against attacking infantry
and cavalry using canister shot. As such the 12 lber was a favorite
weapon of the Grande Armée. Later, redesigned 12 lbs were named after
Napoleon III and found heavy use during the American Civil War.
12-pounders were also carried on naval vessels of various sizes.
Unlike their land based cousins, such weapons were considered light
by naval standards. They formed the main armament of smaller frigates,
and were used on the upper decks of larger vessels, where their
relatively lighter weight would not be a problem. They were commonly
found on the quarterdeck of British Ships of the line like HMS Victory
though their main weapons were the larger 24 and 32 pound cannon,
capable of shattering the hulls of enemy warships and killing the gun
crews with a deadly shower of splinters.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015