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Long poem by Darryl Ashton | Details |

THE RETURN OF PETER PAN 2014

THE RETURN OF PETER PAN…2014  

And Introducing 
The arch enemy:
((Political Correctness and Health and Safety))

Ladies and Gentlemen: boys and girls. Peter Pan is set to strike again.

 
A sequel to J.M. Barrie’s classic tale will be published in the very near future, in which Tinkerbell will be replaced by a male fairy named Firefly, the Darling little children are all grown up, Neverland is blighted by pollution and Nana the dog, is sadly dead. 

Darryl Ashton has obtained this exclusive interview with Peter Pan to find out what went wrong. Peter says: “What has the world come to when someone like me is no longer allowed in children’s bedrooms? OK, so at first inspection things don’t sound too great.
I am someone who climbs secretly through children’s  bedroom windows. I have a friend called Tinkerbell who is, yes, a ‘Fairy’. The two of us tell the little Darlings’ to forget about their parents and come away with us on a big adventure to Neverland. But relax, will you! 
Looking’ back I guess my problems really began when I started planning this return trip to Britain after some 100 years. Do you know how hard it is for a guy like me to get the paper work together? By the time Childcare Agencies, Social Services and The Criminal Records Bureau had vetted me, the magic was wearing pretty thin, I can tell you.

Was I self – employed? Or were Tinkerbell and I in a VAT – registered partnership? Did I have a pilot’s licence, which met all compliance standards? Did I have the relevant Visa for tourists from Non – EU countries? Questions, questions! Don’t all these regulations get you down? Anyway, as Tinks and I soon came to discover, Britain has changed beyond all recognition in the years we have been away.
Our first discovery, much to our horror, was Wendy, and her brothers John and Michael, were some time ago taken into foster care. We learnt that their parents, who were in the habit of leaving them in the care of Nana the dog, had been stripped of access to the children.

TV crews chased Mr and Mrs Darling down the street and a police guard had to be placed outside their door to prevent vigilante gangs from attacking them. Well, that was all too much for Nana the dog who was carted off to an RSPCA hospital, where she was soon being seen by a strange Australian man with a beard and a didgeridoo, who said he could make her a star, on, Animal Hospital.  

Nana said she’d rather be put down, so after a quick call to an assisted suicide group called Dognitas, the old dear’s now pushing up the daises next to Shep in Blue Peter’s garden. Such a waste, she’d been trained by Norland, you know. 
But I don’t suppose that means much these days.

Unsurprisingly, the Darling children went rapidly down hill from there. Shunted from one foster home to another, they fell in with the wrong crowd. Before long, Michael was wearing a hoodie and worse, hanging out with Prince Harry’s lot. As for little John, without any proper father figure to look after him, he found solace in a new faith, changed his name to Sinbad, and was last heard of heading for the Afghan hills for a spiritual vacation. Which is why Wendy got back in touch with yours truly.

So with no one else left to help her, Wendy closed her eyes tight and sent a wish to her old mate Peter Pan. I must confess, when her message first popped up on my Blackberry, I winced. Is there nowhere the office can’t reach me these days? Even Neverland? So I made a few calls, and whaddya know? Hookie agreed to help me out. Yes, I know he’s a rogue and bounder who has polluted the whole of Neverland, after swapping the Jolly Roger for a fleet of turbo charged jet skis. 

Big mistake. We’d scarcely set foot in London before the anti – terrorism squad and Hookie was carted off to Belmarsh. You should have heard him shouting when they took him away! “I am Hook, one time bosom to Blackbeard. The only man to send a shiver up the wooden stump of, Long John Silver. The only consolation for the poor Captain was that the crocodile never made it through the security checks at Neverland Airport”. The other passengers heard that clock ticking in its belly and said they would not travel unless the croc was chucked off the flight.

As for Tinkerbell, no sooner had she returned to her old haunts than a gay rights group called Stonewall said it was totally unacceptable for her old name to be retained. When asked for an explanation, they just threw their eyebrows to the ceiling, sucked in their lips like lemon quarters and gasped: Firely was so much more ‘now’. They even wanted Tinks to change her gender, but we’re still negotiating on that. The Elf’s trade union is pretty sticky on that sort of alteration.

The fairy costumes had to go too, something to do with stereotyping. But when I showed Tinks her new thong, her little pilot light went out altogether, and I’m afraid no amount of Polish plumbers can get it started again. So now I’m stranded and alone, with only my shadow for company. Even Wendy has cut off contact after getting a six – figure deal to appear on a Celebrity show---get me out of here! All of this I can tell you, is incredibly upsetting.

What has happened to Britain these days? I know Neverlands not perfect, but it’s a place where time stands still – and innocence is preserved and I like it that way. Today’s inspectors and officials all say that they’re only interested in protecting children. But by imagining the worst of people they are only wrecking the very innocence they presume to defend.

As I was telling the tooth fairy the other day: “You know Gums, sometimes I wonder if childhood itself is vanishing”. And do you know what she said in reply: “Sorry Pete, I’ve gone private. If you want a consultation, you’ll have to pay up front”.
How about ‘Pay – as – you – go? Sorry Pete, it’ll Neverland!


BY
DARRYL ASHTON                                                      

                                        


Long poem by William J. Jr. Atfield | Details |

Nowhere Man

Nowhere Man

Star dust, the stuff of a fool’s dreams.
Oh !!!, to travel upon star dust streams
- that glorious, never ending journey -
into the realms, the space of many.

This old spirit, seems, not to fit into any
mold nor on any rung of the social latter, 
that, I think, should not, ever matter. 
And so I have to wonder ?, 
as upon this planet, I wander.

Is there any place for me ?, 
where I might fit in – one day to see ?
In my youth, some perceived me to be 
Sall Minnio, even the King, 
- Elvis Presley, - this idea girls would bring
with them, in their pursuit of me.

As an adult, I came to be seen
– an Italian, a Greek, a Mexican – 
a First Nations is what I’ve been 
as folks do the best they can.
As people guessed at my race, 
looking and looking into my face,
the essence, the spirit, the soul of this man.

Yet nowhere do I fit - I belong to no place.
Nowhere do I find a fitting space
for this German, French, British, Native, 
gene pool, my heritage doth give. 
Plus the few – long forgotten – more 
that came through the genetic door 
– open for viewing the heart of this old soul – 
where there is reflection and getting to know.

There have been some who would pass 
this face of many – this face of looking glass 
refraction – to see truth – a Redman’s blood in the veins 
of this First Nation soul – the spirit which remains
for this old soul, the essence of my spirit, 
even in times when many would not tolerate it.
And so, it is not a wonder 
why this soul seems to flounder, 
cannot find anything sounder,

between the jagged, ragged edges 
of created, keen, sharp - wedges 
between who and what I am, and
where it is I could possibly stand.
There is not – it seems to me – a place
where I fit in, can stand, turn and face, 
see a possible niche – a place to belong,
before, my life is almost gone,
as I look back upon all the roads, 
- the stories, the tales, the heavy loads –

I have travelled, yet know not what will be told
of what rung, on the social ladder I hold,
what plateau to find shelter in ?,
what plane to fly above, be comfortable in ?,
what place to rest my spirit, my soul within ?,
what space can I find to forget all the sin ?
I have walked with the sane and insane.
I have talked with the educated and uneducated.
I have been in the company of intelligence and unintelligent.
I have laid with the secure and the insecure.
I have laid with passion’s fire and frigid’s cold.

I have known the moral and the immoral.
I have known those of faith and the faithless
I have known the killed and the killer
I have known those who have taken their own lives
I have known the givers and the takers
I have known the movers and the shakers
I have known the honest and the dishonest
I have known the psychic and the blind. 
I have known the truth sayers and the bullshitters,
The fast lane, the slow lane, the middle lane I’ve moved in.
The sober, the drunkard – I’ve been and been with.
The strong, the weak – I’ve been and been with.

The used, the abused  – I’ve been and been with. 
The users and the abusers -- I’ve known and know me.
The wealthy, the poor – I’ve known and know me.
Financial wealth and Spirituality -- I’ve known and know me.
The saver of a life -- I’ve known and was me.
The living and the dead -- I’ve known and know me.
Having a brush with artists has been my fate. 
Having acted up with entertainers has been my fate. 
Having had words with writers has been my fate.
Having become a rhymer, like my forth cousin, has been my fate.
I have played with players – strummed a note or two.
I have laid with singers-- sung a note or two.
I have laid with dancers – danced a step or two.

I have struck an arc alongside a welder – a time or two.
I have sprayed painted cars alongside a painter – a time or two.
Hammering out metal with body men – I have done.
Twisting wrenches with mechanics – I have done.
Busining along side business men – I have done.
Being a lover, I always thought, was my forte.
Being a husband, I thought I knew how to play.
Being a father, I thought I knew I would stay.
Being a friend, I thought was always my way.
To be a son – a child’s dream.
To be a brother – not to be it seems
as all the above drifts downstream,
leaving one to wonder, what life really means ?
Life’s journey can be a wondrous mystery !,
 
when one leafs through the pages of his history.
One’s life can also be a disastrous story ?, 
one of little hope, dim light and no glory.
So what is left for this old fool ?, 
but to carry on breaking the old rule, 
rules that make it possible to call oneself a poet, 
something I never call myself, a poet, and I know it !
I do the best I can
That is who I am !
Being a carny – traveling with The World’s Finest show.
For a couple of seasons – that is all I did know.
Being a dishwasher, a server, a busboy, a waiter, a manager 
of a restaurant, many dimensions of life. I was egger  
to come into contact with, to try and understand. 
As fate would have it, understanding never came to this hand.

Today, a bum – forty eight years ago – father said
“ the best dressed bum in town ” would be my stead.
What goes around – at some point in time – comes around.
There is some truth to this, that I have certainly found.
Even though I have touched the edges of many a life. 
Many places, pieces of each and everyone, not one has been 
a place for me, a place I felt I belonged, the places I’ve seen
do not leave pillows for my spirit,  beds to rest my soul, rife
with uncertainty, is my state, almost every day
I can find no place, no space for me to play.
Looking into this distorted collage 
I wonder if it is but a mirage ?
My flaws lie in the heart of my feeling !, it is my sin !,
this belief that there is no place, no space where I fit in.

B. J. “A” 2
May 1st 2004


Long poem by Darryl Ashton | Details |

WELCOME TO COALITION AIRWAYS

WELCOME TO COALITION AIRWAYS!


(After being treated to a flight on Air Force One recently, the Prime Minister could be tempted to order his own official plane. But he’d have to work hard to get the Lib Dems on board. So what might a flight on Coalition Airways be like?)

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, not forgetting members of the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender community. This is Captain Cameron speaking, but you can call me Dave.

Please allow me to apologise for the lengthy delay in our boarding process, caused by unforeseen technical glitches with our state-of-the-art automated retina recognition scheme and the arrest of several passengers for alleged racist remarks while passing through security.

We also apologise for any inconvenience caused by our new seating allocation system, which is based on proportional representation and is designed to ensure equality of access to all sections of the aircraft.

I am also very proud to announce that in keeping with our fairness agenda, passengers earning less than £10,000 a year fly free on Coalition Airways. This is being paid for by a 50 per cent surcharge on passengers in Tycoon Class.

Flying duties today are being shared between the Captain and Co-Pilot Clegg. Please don’t be alarmed if the aircraft experiences sudden changes in direction. Your safety and your comfort is our number one priority.

Would all passengers being extradited to America please keep their handcuffs and shackles fastened at all times and remember to wear the special orange sleep-suits provided. 
Passengers fitted with electronic ankle tags are asked to switch them off for take-off and landing as they could interfere with our navigation equipment.

Our purser, Mr Osborne, will be passing among you collecting airline duty, carbon taxes, mansion taxes and VAT at 20 per cent. In our efforts to keep costs down, we regret to announce that full-fare passengers in the higher-rate tax bracket are not entitled to free children’s meals.

Alcoholic beverages will be available, priced at a minimum 50p per unit ABV. Sales of intoxicating drinks will be tightly restricted to prevent anyone going berserk in the Strangers Cabin and head – butting other passengers.

I would like to take this opportunity to welcome aboard those couples embarking on same-sex honeymoons. They will receive unlimited complimentary champagne for the duration of our flight. Cabin crew will also be distributing landing cards, which must be completed in full. I would remind you that the terms ‘husband’, ‘wife’, ‘mother’ and ‘father’ are now illegal and should not be used on any official documentation. The correct term is either ‘partner/spouse’ or ‘progenitor’. Failure to comply will result in arrest by our air-marshals, a fine of £10,000 and six months in prison.

Those of you planning to connect to onward flights to Scotland will have to complete separate customs and immigration forms and produce your passport at border control. We do hope all the passengers enjoy our in-flight meal service, which is being freshly prepared in the galley on the top-of-the-range barbecue presented to the Captain on his recent visit to America.

We try to source as much as possible from reputable British companies. All the crockery in Tycoon Class has been supplied by Royal Doulton, from its factories in Indonesia, and our cutlery is forged from the finest Sheffield steel, in India. 

It is also our policy to feature a selection of traditional British dishes. Today we are offering a vegetable lasagne, prepared by the gourmet chef Ed Balls-Cooper in his subsidised second  home kitchen. Unfortunately, the steak and kidney is not available, as Mr Pickles, the chief steward in our Community Class cabin, ate all the pies.

We also pride ourselves on the stringent security measures taken for your safety and convenience. In the unlikely event of you spotting a fellow passenger trying to explode his underpants, please alert a member of the cabin crew. There is no cause for alarm. It may simply be a case of mid-air turbulence caused by Chef Balls-Cooper’s vegetable lasagne. 

The hacking of mobile phones in flight is not permitted. Smoking is strictly forbidden anywhere on the aircraft, including the washrooms. Dogging and cottaging are allowed, once we are airborne, but we would kindly request that no more than four passengers use a single washroom at the same time.

Given the need for budgetary restraint, this aircraft has been designed to perform a joint civilian  and military role. Consequently, we will be diverting via Syria to bomb Damascus and descending to 3,000 feet to allow members of our special forces to deploy their parachutes.  

During this time, we may experience some anti-aircraft fire, so all passengers will be asked to fasten their seat belts and assume the brace position. Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologise for the continuing delay. I have just heard from our ground crew that our flight today will have to be postponed.

Even if we do manage to get airborne, there is a possibility that Co-Pilot Clegg and several members of the cabin crew will abandon the aircraft and parachute to earth in an attempt to save themselves, in clear breach of both health and safety guidelines and the Coalition Airways Agreement.

So I’m afraid I must ask you to deplane in an orderly fashion and take all your belongings and rubbish with you. As part of our ongoing commitment to combating climate change, we intend to empty the bins on this aircraft only once a fortnight.

Thank you for choosing Coalition Airways. Normal service will be resumed in 2015.

Here endeth the flight.

THE END


BY
DARRYL ASHTON   

      


Long poem by Brian Johnston | Details |

So Many Questions

(A both serious and fanciful encounter with God)          

1. There are so many questions that I have for God, 
Oh my love, don't you feel the same way? 
While it's true that we may just have met in this poem
You must know that I care what you say.
Like who made the Creator and then who made Him? 
To infinity this clearly goes.
But a 'whole universe' that 'exists on its own? '
It's orgasmic! And that curls my toes.

It seems possible God could create this strange thing
Which some atheists call 'the big bang, '
Which puts God the creator at source once again
'Self-creation' becomes boomerang.
In the end science usually makes simple right
And in this case that doesn't seem odd
For it's clear that although God explains 'the big bang, '
'The big bang' just can't explain God. 


2. Now some people think that for the Church to survive
That the Bible must 'un-airant' be
Though that leaves many liberals gasping for air
And I certainly mean to include me.
Didn't Christ turn established Church square on its head
And accuse experts of speaking trash
Their self-aggrandizements the flailings of the dead, 
Their pronouncements the value of ash? 

So where in the Bible does it claim to be true
That each man's take on it is Gospel? 
The foolishness of this thought clearly would make the
Deity of mere men possible.	
And Christ spoke in parables, while I am on it, 
While they may contain truth, are they true? 
Shifting sand's the ground literalists stand on, 
I don't want God's Church built there, do you? 
 

3. I suspect overall that our God is too small
Modeled after folks tied down with chain, 
A God that's too small is really no God at all
And our saying we know Him just vain. 
Today's Kingdom of Grace has become one of fear
As we try to trap God with His Word, 
Surely our doing battle with Father or Son	
Trying to save ourselves is absurd.

So what does it mean to believe in Christ Jesus? 
And how can I be cleansed in Christ's flame
I think it is clear you should be different from Satan
And he certainly knows Jesus' name.
In fact one could divine Satan knows Christ is real
A fact Satan will take to his grave.
But Satan's not willing to walk in Christ's footsteps
And that's whom God chooses to save.
 

4. Surely there's nothing wrong with our questioning God
For God commands us, 'Forbid them not, '	
'Suffer the little children to come unto me	.'
Does that sound like God's wrath is our lot? 
It is true of course, we know that God gets angry
But His essence still always is Grace.
It is not who you are, it is just what you do
That can make Him get into your face.

With Karen Armstrong now alive on the scene
It is clear that God's heart is still showing
When she says 'Doubt is not the opposite of faith...
Certainty is! ' A huge debt to God I am owing.
For certainty is certainly not my standard
And sometimes that does give me pause.
But the Grace that I feel in God's presence
Is what brings me to peace with His laws.


5. So now that we've managed to clear up some big stuff
Let's tackle some things that are fuzzy
Like Jesus would frequently call God his 'father'
But God could not have a thing, does He? 
I'm sure that some ladies will not be too happy
To hear that God's not one of their clan
Remember the Bible says God's church is His bride, 
Not much room there for doubt He's a man.

Women
'But if that's really true He's not me, more like you, 
No way could that ever be called fair.
Thanks a lot! Doesn't seem much like heaven to me
Woman still dragged around by their hair.	'
Men
'Hold on now, wait a bit: Please! let's not have a fit
Seems like men have a right to feel blue! 
Even though we are all getting married to God
Recall men are to be His bride too! ' 


6. If science and traditional faith disagree
Then it's clear that there is something wrong
One could ignore it but both come from God
So take care if the science is strong.	
Intelligent scholars of Biblical truth say 
Creation is six thousand years past
But science proves this wrong over 4 billion years
In one universally huge blast.

The Bible was written two thousand years ago
For folks who knew little of science.
When you speak to a child, you know he's not adult, 
And you use what we call common sense, 
Not hard to accept that the Bible is dated, 
Don't stew over it for heaven's sake.
This isn't a sign that our God would mislead us, 
He who died for you is not a fake.


7. And now for an odd bit, just where does Science fit
With God's gift of Grace for the many? 
'Seek, you shall find, knock and it be opened to you: '
As good a definition as any.
'Every good and perfect gift comes from the father.'
I am grateful to God for His Word.
And you devil's children who call God's gift evil, 
For repentance I offer a bird.

Our God's revelation to man is ongoing, 
With faithfulness through all the ages
The only requirement of mankind it would seem
Is willingness to turn the pages.
Not just pages of Bible but pages of stars
Which are surely God's heart written large.
Let us follow Him to where new worlds conquer fear 
And our service to LOVE so discharge.

Brian Johnston
December 17-19,2013

Poet's Notes:
Whew! This poem is another one of those 'where did that come from' poems. I want to let go of it, YET IT KEEPS  ON GROWING LIKE THE 'THE BLOB! '

So don't be surprised if I offer new stanzas.
Think I feel something else clearly perking.
I'm taking requests to so if you have a pet peeve 
Just forward on to me, don't be shirking.

Love in advance, 
Brian

PS: Thank you God


Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

The Mulberry Tree And Its Birds Part Two

A GIFT FOR EVERYONE ESPECIALLY FOR CHILDREN The Mulberry Tree & its Birds IMPORTANT NOTE: Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years ago. Use the following URL : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5dpe5_GRKE One day When Bulbul* was warbling On its branches A strange big bird with round beak Came over there To eat Mulberry’s sweet fruits The bird was expert In changing its colors Like the colorful sky But like some arrogant child She could not make anyone It’s friend on the Mulberry tree. By the time Anyone could have spotted its beauty It suddenly changed its colors And became invisible, Before others While hiding behind the leafs And the branches of the Mulberry Alone the bird came over there And alone she flew away Without any friend For some other tree. 10 Suddenly, The sparrows began to chirp Watching a Koyal* sitting Somewhere very close to them On a nearby branch of a tree. But, strangely, for all of them A Neelkanth* also Came over there And opened before them Its beautiful blue color wings. From where the Neelkanth came And for what destination, It would leave no one knows. Before the eyes Could have feasted fully All that, beauties of the Birds And the beauty, All around, the Mulberry tree A Yellow Green bird Came to drink, Water filled in a Pot Which was lying on my terrace, Not very far off From the Mulberry tree. 11 In those moments It seemed to me, As if, someone has opened A treasure Of precious, colorful birds For the tree. 12 The Shahtoot*, Used to play often The Music Of flapping sound, Of its leafs Whenever, the wind blows With, its strengths, While, touching the leafs And shaking its branches While saying slowly In the ears of the Mulberry “Dear Shahtoot – Create Music in the air” So that, we may dance together On the tunes of the wind. 13 And then the Mulberry Began to show Its beautiful dance On the tunes Of the fast blowing winds And watching that dancing beauty Of the Mulberry tree And the beauty Of its dancing leafs, The birds Often used to get filled With an unknown Happiness and joy But, sometimes The dance of the Mulberry tree Causes fear in birds And then they began to make Loud noises like crying To show their fear and anger. 14 But, when they were happy The birds began, to chirp loudly As if, They were greeting, the Mulberry For such a wonderful dance and music. 15 I used to get astonished and lost To see, Such an excellent beauty And grandeur of Nature Which, always reminds me My relations with you, O’ Shahtoot, which is as old, As are the days, of my childhood When we used to play Kilkil Kaantaa* On the lower branches, of your tree And my childhood friends Used to come like birds Searching the chalk lines Made by me, on your branches And cutting them To tell that they have found The treasure, hidden by me. 16 But, I always feel sad O’ my dear friend, Shahtoot That I could not save you From those onslaughts Due to which You just vanished, Suddenly one day For ever and forever. 17 Now, that place Where, the Mulberry used to smile Every Morning and every day Hardly get any birds To listen to, the melodies of Koyal* And the chirping sound And music of Bulbul* and of the sparrows. Even our, kids and children Of today Hardly get, any opportunity To see now colorful birds Flying and sitting On a branch of tree. They almost never see The Neelkanth* flying in the air While showing, it’s gorgeous Beautiful blue wings To tell the story of its birth O’ my dear friend Shahtoot*. 18 But, perhaps This Poem on you, O’ my friend ‘Shahtoot’ Would make you immortal For ever Because, now you would live In the hearts of everyone And you would bloom On the mind and hearts Of little kids and children Who would plant more and more Mulberry trees So that colorful birds may Keep coming on their trees And they may enjoy The beauty of Nature which lies In Plants, Trees, Birds And Animals. Such efforts of the Of kids and children Would make you immortal For ever and forever When they would listen to This story of yours And of the singing birds Which always come On your trees In the season of Mulberry. 19 Ravindra Kanpur India 10th November 2013 NOTE: Protected under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights. *Bulbul=A sweet singing Bird of India *Koyal= A melody Bird of India Shahtoot= The Hindi name of Mulberry tree and its fruits *Kilkil Kaantaa= Kilkil Kaantaa* A child game of India in which,one player makes some lines by chalk on any such object which can be searched by the other player to cut these lines and win. Note: In this Poem I have not placed only a small part of this unique story which would be the real attractions of my Video based on this unique story.Hope you would like that full wonderful story of my Video as and when it would be placed on my You Tube Channel. Love and best wishes..Ravindra K Kapoor


Long poem by J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

Sing To Me Your Lullaby with Sexy Style in California

*Chorus*
Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California right now
Oh paint a delightful smile on my face and make me laugh with joy and happiness 
somehow…
You’re my ultimate addiction – you lift me higher than cloud seven
I gottah keep pace to run this race the right way…so, I want yah to stay here for a 
little while
Alright, you’re making my day…you are like my cherished Haven
Satisfaction is ours, baby…nothing’s in my way today! We’re runnin’ thee extra 
mile!
Can you see it like fireworks in the sky?
Did you ever wish to be free
Like those mockingbirds and jays in the aqua-blue sky? 
You and I will receive the ability to fly
The ability to show off our inner glow…yah know…soooo…
And we’ll be putting up a show…yah know…yah know…let the wicked wind blow…
oooh ahhahah ohhh…
Take away my flaws…my worst fears…my weaknesses
Give me a big applause for trying my best and can you motivate me to beat this 
race?
Let go of all worries…my bad memories…replace em with my strengths and clean 
up all of our “emotional love” messes
Gather around me, my stinging, beautiful bees…I’ll try to pass the test…and you’ll 
do the rest just in case…
I get pleasure off of your applauses…your full attention…give up your aggressive 
side and your anger…take out the trash that’s filthy with strife and clean up your 
act! We need peace and that’s a fact! You need to give me your surreal 
satisfaction…We feel like we’re top dog right now! Who’s boss? We are! Come on, 
sistahs and brothahs, let’s BODYQUAKE! Let’s dance! Let’s embrace this terrific, 
tranquil trance! I fancy you, baby…don’t hit the brakes…
Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California
Don’t stop, darling – stay with me for a long while! I know – I act silly and 
immatcha! 

*Bridge*
Me: I’m wingless…I’m invisible…
I’m incredible...yet, I can do the impossible
Fighting negativity, so I can be me – 
Instead, I invite positivity and kiss sunlit glee 
Everyone: You’re a gift, not a curse
You’re a cure – you’re a lullaby in reverse…
Everyone: Rehearse to me our freedom
Rehearse to me our liberty 
Rehearse to me your satisfaction
Rehearse to me – we’ll take action! Oooooh yeaaaaah
I was once stuck in the pit of my misery and poverty…He’s my Amazing Grace and 
more – his words are tattooed everywhere in my body…
But now I’m free as a bird out of her cave

*Chorus*
Beyonce and others: Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California 
Don’t stop, darling – stay with me for a long while! Let’s break the law and let’s 
shop at the mall
You’re my ultimate addiction – you lift me higher than cloud seven
I gottah keep pace to run this race the right way…you made my day by giving me 
the energy and confidence to run the extra mile
Alright, you’re making my day…you are like my cherished Haven
Satisfaction is ours, baby…nothing’s in my way today! 
Can you stay here for a while? You sing to me your lullaby with a sugar-and-spice 
style!

Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California 
Let’s swing about and stand tall when we encounter dangah!
Fight with all of your might and be proud that we fought the good fight! Now, 
everything’s black and white and everything’s alright!
You’re *my drug of delight!x3* I promise my love towards you wo’t bite – if it 
does, it means I want you and your surreal light as soon as possible, even if it 
means going through a perilous plight! 

*Bridge #2*
Rihanna/Beyonce (duet): You’re my beloved disease…
You put my heart and mind at ease…
Please…please don’t reject me again
Where have yah been? I see your eyes – chaos and guilt brewin’
Eminem/Rihanna: Sing to me your lullaby with sexy style and a brilliant beat
I’ll dance naughtily – you make me feel neat and my feet are tappin’ and tappin’…I 
can’t stop my feet! 
I don’t care about California’s heat! 
I’m dreamin’ about California and its cheerful, sun-drenched summertime
My time spent with you ain’t a waste of time! You and I’s love is extremely 
sublime! 

Sing to me your lullaby with Sexy Style in California 
Dance with me and go with the flow with em all!

Beyonce: Come here…fly to me…don’t be blue
Rihanna: If you only knew…that I loved you
Lady Gaga: But, I guess I was that bizarre girl that came out of the blue…just b/c 
I’m eccentric, doesn’t mean I ain’t wild and epic…
Lady Gaga/Eminem/me: Come along with me…we’ll be on our own
Speechless, but having the time of my life
Making a cherry-top decision – it’s my mission to call you up on my telephone…
*ring ring ring*
There it rings again…you left me breathless – don’t provoke me to anger and 
befriend strife
Everyone:For, it cuts me like a sharp, jagged knife…
Rihanna: You won’t see me cry… all my life…

~!@#$%^&*()_+=-0987654321`~

Beyonce: *no more singing* That’s a good ending, girl. Good job. *pat pat*
Me: what’s up with that cool ending, RihRih! That was tight! 
Rihanna: Thanks a bill *giggles* I took that from my song “Cry”…I won’t deny it…
Lady Gaga: You’re crazy good, but I like crazy good people like you
Adele: Nevermind I’ll find someone like yoooooou! –
Rihanna: I’m sorry to come across as rude, but who invited Adele?
*everyone points at me and everyone laughs*
Beyonce: Oh my word…I shouldah known..it was silly Davey Wavey!
Me and Rihanna: Uhuh…mhmmm…*we crack up with laughter and can’t keep a 
straight face*

~!@#$%^&*()_+~!@#$%^&*()_+=09##@^%%$^543@11~


Long poem by jack oritx | Details |

THE TOUR

THE TOUR 
WHOA! 
Stop right there my friend! 
For there’s no place in where you can run and hide  
So stop and listen  
Listen to the voices warning you to go back 
Screaming out to beware of the horror that flows through this young child’s mind  
Opps too late! 
You just had to do it  
Didn’t you  
You just had to enter into the darkness of this fallen soul 
Well don’t just stand there come closer since its to late 
To turn back now 
Ready?  
Okay then welcome to the horrors of this poetic mind 
For in here you’ll hear and feel what’s like to be me 
For you’re in my world now and its not a pretty site 
So where do you like to begin 
Oh I know 
Why don’t we go and see what my heart is up to 
Shall we  
Heart: this is umm oh I’m sorry but you never told me what’s your name is 
Oh well it doesn’t matter 
Heart, do you mind telling my new friend here how you continue to beat inside of this old wrap body of ours  
My pleasure I may beat but what I really want to do is 
Explode from all the voices that whisper to my soul 
Late at night 
Thanks heart and speaking of our soul 
Let’s go see what she’s up to okay  
Oh come on don’t try to run away now 
I tried to warn you before but you didn’t want to listen 
No 
You had dare to challenge the demons that rule over 
My heart, mind and soul 
So let’s just move on  
Hello Ms. Soul, I’d like for you to meet- 
Damn I really must learn your name anyway 
Would you mind telling my friend here 
How you continue to live and breathe through all of this everlasting pain  
Am I breathing?  
For day after day it feels like I’m suffocating from  
All this torment pain that flows through this child’s body 
For if you’d take a closer look inside of this old soul 
Of mines you’d see that I’m slowly dying from the inside out 
For maybe there’s a God above who’ll hopefully 
One day will forgive this child of mines 
Or 
Maybe the devil below who can hardly wait to get 
His ferly hooks inside this soul  
For if we aren’t allow to enter in neither one then  
Please I’m begging you please let me go and allow 
Us to burn in eternal peace  
Whoa! 
Even I’m lost for words let’s just move on before 
You start whining again 
So just sit back and relax as I introduce you 
To the most horrifying part of our tour 
The disturbing words of this child’s poetic mind  
Well thank you for that lovely intro and let me say  
How brave your young friend is for coming this far 
Frankly I never thought you’d make it  
Any way I know that I’m just blabbing for I know 
How you must feel I bet you’re just dying for me 
To just shut the hell up so you could get the hell 
Out of here 
Am I right? 
Of course I am so let me get to the point then you’ll be free 
 To go 
We come into this world without any guardian angels 
To show us how our life is going to be 
For I’m just a young child whose soul’s more than happy 
To welcome the bright lights of an icy hell that fills 
My heart  
And before you open your mouth to interrupt  
Let me save you the trouble since I know what your  
Going to say 
You’re going to say 
That these feelings will not last forever if I just have a  
Little faith 
Well let me tell you that forever has been here and gone 
My friend 
And to this very day this child is yet to believe that her day of faith will ever come 
For I’ve shown you all of my soul’s silence 
I’ve told you all of my heart’s torments 
But most important I’ve shown you the real me 
Not the happy outgoing person that I always  
Pretend to be 
For don’t you think that I’d love to forget how I’ve  
Been raped of all my innocence, faith and trust 
And have them replace with numbness, shame and pain 
But I can’t blame you for the sins of this child’s past 
No 
That would be useless since I could never be the person 
That so many of you wish for me to be 
So that completes the ending of this tour 
How did you like it 
Aww it left you pretty speechless huh 
I had a feeling that it’d well don’t just stand there 
With that stupid look on your face go get the hell out here 
That’s it just turn around and walk away 
Oh one more thing before you go I never did get your name 
Well it was very nice to finally met you God 
Now please get the hell out of here before you get trapped 
Within the walls of this wicked disturbed mind 
Oh hey wait! 
Could I just ask you for one small favor before you go 
I can  
Hey thanks 
Okay umm now bear with me cause this ain’t easy for me 
To ask 
But okay I really never learned how and nobody ever took  
The time to teach me and it’d mean so much 
To me if you’d open your heart just for a second and say 
 A prayer for me then maybe in that same split second I’d learn how to undo all the pain that ever been 
For one day if you shall remember me 
Remember what you’ve learn here today I want you to look down from that holy thorn of yours that you call heaven 
But I warn you, your eyes will burn from all the flames 
But don’t be sad 
For just as so many have forsaken you I’ve chosen to forsaken you 
Since the day I was born 
And yes, I’ll burn and forever vanish in a blink of an eye 
Why? 
You dare to ask well since the day you’ve placed me  
In a place named hell to live 
And love don’t you think its only natural that I would want to die here too 
Just think about it 
Copyright © belong to jack 2006 


Long poem by William J. Jr. Atfield | Details |

Differences you say

Differences – you say !

I – me Lass – brave Helios, rides his golden chariot, 
drawn by fiery Steeds, into the vastness of this universe.

These mighty Titans, dispatched – brilliant, glowing -
ruled, controlled the blueness of this planet, the heavens.

Our bright Sun, sprinkles life giving particles, waves,
out in all directions – into the endless firmament.

Then there is the cold souled, silver shield that traverses 
that moth eaten, dark cloth, that hangs like lead 
in that dead laden space, blackness the place 
you choose to ride – your life to hide.

Oh !, if only we would climb down from the edge of fences.
Oh !, if only we would leave behind, walk away from defences.
Oh !, for us to, but if we only could, reach our dreams
Oh !, for us to, not have all those things, it seems,

that get in the way – life’s experiences, what it means, 
from time to time, - that should be left behind – long ago, 
that hang on so tightly, from fears that you won’t let go.
Oh !, for us two, to find the door, to see, understand, to know.

Oh !, for us to, for us to realize, that after the end, the winds will blow
it all away, into waves of rainbow colours that will show 
it all to have been a necessary, but unnecessary way to go.
No matter what is said and done, it all is the universes flow.

A straight line, towards your destination, is the obvious choice. 
Unfortunately, a jumble of thoughts, experiences, become the voice.

A trip – full of baggage – and around the world we go.
A carrousel ride, on each and every horse, the story doth show

A very dizzying ride it is, the point, to get to know 
is a journey, of many directions, on winds that blow  

Live and let live the life one so chooses.
Seldom is it necessary if one wins or one loses, 
not much concerned for – or where or why.
For in the end, it is all in the beholders eye.
 
Much too much involved !, much to obsessive, 
with others and the lives they made a mess – ive.
I can only wonder ?, make an educated guess, live
with my analysis and know, from the heart you give.

I cannot carry the weight of your life into today, 
for all that was, all that is, need not words to say, 
for nothing will change, not before, nor after, it’s your way, 
no matter what one chooses, or not, to express, it’s the game you play.

All has come into, become a part of, is constantly shared 
with, and no matter how it affects, it’s no longer cared 
for, for it all distracts, disrupts, disturbs the air 
that we are inhabiting - and not – it is unfair

I know that it is part and parcel of the lady fair. 
If only to the point, but you never seem to get there.
Hours and hours go by, I cannot help but cry 
as I listen and listen, understand, I do try.

Actions, activities, motion, play are the order of the day, 
board games to win, games to lose, but they cannot be had, 
for it is not in the cards – alone – one can have a say, 
only but for two, does it come though, to share and that’s not bad.

Vocalizing, expressing, gossiping, complaining are your way. 
Hours to exercise the body, the soul, the mind, it is so sad, 
for it leaves so little to share, so little time for making hay.
Not such a bad way to connect, what a great fad !

Just some of the differences that have come to be 
what is between you and me, yet there is much more to see 
that could come into you and me as we ride this rough sea 
of life, that at times you find joy in this old boy, so free.

Happy am I when you come near, when you are here.
A little hollow, a little empty, in the end, harbour fear 
that the sunshine will fade, be covered, will disappear.
Which way ?, - our ships passing in the night - will we steer.

A Mole

Will the Mole, leave her underground, black hole ?, 
to – with eagles fly – reach out and touch the sky ?
will this night hawk, this owl, venture into day light,
play in sight of shadows, created by a sun so bright 
and warm, where day creatures know the storm 
that rages throughout and within, who shout 
with voices searing, with knowledge clearing, 
with understanding of choices made by rending, 
choices made for, and by them, behind a closed door.
Living a life that has been over flowing with strife.
There is much to know, about what was laid upon her soul. 
Some can, some cannot let go, why ?, I do not know.

Can the bound, the nocturnal, the frightened ?, 
find freedom, find in the diurnal, find in fearlessness, 
a soul mate to travel with, upon day light roads, opened.
A soul mate to take into the darkness, the coldness. 
Can they be blended, one into the other, if the story be told.

Differences – are they few or are there so many ?
Are we able to live with them ?, or without any ?
There we are – two old birds on the wing, 
with different voices, different songs to sing
of any or all, to the table, want to bring.
Shed light, and let show, what is our thing 
which at times has put us into the ring.
Sparing in defence of our particular notions, 
beliefs, as we express – in animated motions, 
a light, who we truly are in the heat of the moment.
Yet the hurt, the pain created by wards, was not meant.
Yet they have lent a truth, some truth was sent 
out from the heart, the soul, life ancient 
that dictates - in the moment – what’s fates sentiment.

PS

And what are the differences you see ?
What are they ?, what is between you and me ?

B. J. “A ” 2
March 15th   2003 


Long poem by Kim van Breda | Details |

OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21

OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21

ON 1ST JULY 1990~ THE ANGELS DID SOMETHING ALMIGHTY
FROM HEAVEN THEY SENT US OUR LIFE-LONG DESIRE-A PRECIOUS DAUGHTER TO LOVE AND ADMIRE.
TRUE TO YOUR NATURE YOU ARRIVED WITHOUT FUSS OR PAIN--THE FIRST TIME OUR EYES MET WE KNEW OUR LIVES WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME

AS A BABY AND TODDLER YOU MADE US SO PROUD
YOUR VERY LONG HAIR, GREEN EYES AND SMILE-
ALL THOSE GOOD LOOKS MADE YOU STAND OUT IN A CROWD
YOU STARTED TALKING EARLY WITH MANY VOICEPRINTS 
YOUR CHARM AND GOOD LOOKS HAVE NOT STOPPED SINCE
YOU LOVED YOUR DOLLS AND PRAMS-- DREAMT OF BEING A “SINGER”
 AND VERY QUICKLY LEARNED HOW TO WRAP YOUR DAD AROUND YOUR LITTLE FINGER
YOUR BIG BROTHER DEVON--BEST FRIEND AND PROTECTER 
MOST OF THE TIME YOU GOT ON PERFECTLY TOGETHER

FROM AN EARLY AGE YOU SHOWED YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING
AGE TWO AND A HALF YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING
TO SWIM UNDER WATER AND DO MANY LENGTHS
THIS WAS CLEARLY ONE OF YOUR SPORTING STRENGTHS
AT AGE THREE YOU COULD BARELY WAIT TO START PLAYSCHOOL
“MISS INDEPENDENCE”, WAS YOUR GENERAL RULE
THE SLIDE AND JUNGLE GYM WERE YOUR FAVOURITE SPOTS
 AND TO OUR HORROR YOU WOULD CLIMB RIGHT TO THE TOP!
AT AROUND THIS TIME, YOUR FIRST BOYFRIEND YOU MET-
 HE LIVED NEXT DOOR, AND HIS NAME WAS BRETT

SOON IT WAS TIME FOR  PRE-SCHOOL
YOU LOVED YOUR TEACHER--YOUR NEW FRIENDS WERE COOL
‘SPRING BONNETS’ AND THE END OF YEAR SCHOOL PLAYS
THE TEDDY BEAR CLASS GAVE YOU SOME REAL SPECIAL DAYS
NEXT WAS ‘BIG SCHOOL’ AND YOUR FIRST CLASS
WE WERE SERIOUSLY ANXIOUS BUT FOR YOU JUST ANOTHER ‘MISS INDEPENDENCE’ TASK
LETTERLAND, MATHS AND LEARNING TO READ
YOU EXCELLED AT ALL THAT WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED
YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS CONTINUED THROUGH GRADES 2, 3 AND FOUR
YOUR PLACE IN THE SWIMMING TEAM HELPED YOUR SCHOOL WIN MORE

OUR MOVE TO AUSTRALIA… SAD FAREWELLS TO YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR PETS 
BUT, GREAT EXCITEMENT YOU FELT AT ADVENTURES TO BE MET
A NEW SCHOOL--“METHODIST LADIES COLLEGE”
NEW FRIENDS--JUMPING A GRADE-- MET WITH SUCH POSITIVE COURAGE
YOU MADE US SO PROUD IN THE WAY YOU ADAPTED
MRS. WILLIAMSON SAID YOU WERE THEIR NEW CLASS ‘ASSETT’
.
THE ‘MR BEE’ SPELLING AWARD AND MANY MERITS LATER 
WE ALL GOT HOMESICK-- BUT YOUR POSITIVE NATURE DID NOT WAVER
THE DECISION WE MADE TO RETURN TO CAPE TOWN 
CAUSED YOU HEARTBROCKEN TEARS AND A PERMANENT FROWN
ONCE AGAIN A SAD FAREWELL TO YOUR NEW FOUND FRIENDS 
RETURNING TO S.A. FOR OLD ONES TO MAKE AMMENDS

IT WASN’T VERY LONG THAT YOU PICKED UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT ALL
 ADDED TO YOUR TALENTS WERE NOW TEAM HOCKEY AND NETBALL

AS YOU APPROACHED THE FIRST OF YOUR TEEN YEARS
WITH YOUR LOOKS AND CHARM, INEVITABLY THE BOYFRIENDS WOULD APPEAR
SHOPPING, MOVIES AND MANY PARTY SLEEP-OVERS
CHOOSING TRUE FRIENDS AND DUMPING THE LOSERS
DANCE SHOWS AND DANCING EXAMS… YOU EXCELLED AT HIP- HOP
 FUN AND OF COURSE THE DESIRE TO SHOP

THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL-- THE FINAL ASSEMBLY—AWARDS
TROPHIES FOR SPORTSMANSHIP AND YOUR S.R.C. PRIZE GOT MANY APPLAUDS
SAD FEELINGS AT LEAVING YOUR OLD SCHOOL BEHIND 
EXCITEMENT AT STARTING HIGH SCHOOL WOULD SOON COME TO MIND
NO PROBLEM TO YOU, IT WAS ALL JUST A BREEZE 
AS YEAR BY YEAR YOU CONTINUED TO ACHIEVE
SWIMMING AND ‘A’ TEAM HOCKY MATCHES ON THE ASTRO TURF 
YOU EVEN STARTED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF
FRIDAY AFTERNOON CHRISTIAN MEETINGS AND EVENING CHURCH YOUTH
WE WERE SO HAPPY YOU FOUND GOD AND HIS TRUTH

THE REST OF HIGH SCHOOL PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE WHILE 
YOUR LIST OF ACHIEVEMENTS REMAINED EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH
YOUR ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS WERE ASTOUNDING
COPING WITH TOUGH SUBJECTS LIKE MATHS, SCIENCE AND ACCOUNTING
IN HOCKEY AND SWIMMING YOU MADE THE TOP TEAMS
NO SURPRISE AT ALL THAT SWIMMING COACHES MOVED IN ON THE SCENE.

THEY CULTIVATED YOUR TALENTS FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH
EVERY YOUR NIGHT YOUR PASSION SAW YOU DOING MANY LENGTHS
WEEKENDS OF GALA’S AND NATIONAL SWIMMING
S.A.SHORT COURSE, YOUR P.B’S, AND FAIR SHARE OF WINNING
TOGETHER WE CELEBRATED YOUR PLACE IN   W.P. SCHOOL CHAMPS THAT YEAR 
SO PROUD OF OUR BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER ALWAYS AHEAD OF HER PEERS 
.
FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY YOU BECAME SO INDEPENDENT
 STARTING YOUR STUDIES AS A B.Sc. STUDENT
IT WAS ALSO THE YEAR YOU LEARNED TO DRIVE
GOT YOUR LICENSE—DAD SPOILT YOU—NEW CAR—RESPLENDENT


YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN THE LORD STILL REMAINS FIRM
AS YOU WALK AND GROW SPIRITUALLY DAILY WITH HIM

SO MUCH HAS CHANGED, AND YET SOME THINGS REMAIN
YOU BEAUTY AND TALENTS SO EASILY MAINTAINED
YOUR  LOVE OF SWIMMING AND OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN WATER
YOU KNOW WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR NO. 1 SUPPORTERS
AND NOW YOU ARE 21, SWEETHEART 
YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD OF YOU-- TODAY IS JUST THE START
IT SEEMS LIKE JUST YESTERDAY THAT YOU WERE BORN—
OUR DAUGHTER~LOVES BRIGHT SHINING LIGHT~ WE ADORE
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED IN EVERY WAY 
WISHING YOU GOD’S RICHEST BLESSINGS ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY
HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY GIRL

TO HAVE YOU AS A DAUGHTER HAS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE
-YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE OUR MOST BEAUTIFUL TREASURE-

(FOOTNOTE: OUR DAUGHTER WILL BE 23 THIS YEAR, HAS COMPLETED HER BSc. AND HONOURS DEGREE’S IN PHYSIOLOGY AND GENETICS AND NOW DOING HER MASTERS DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE. SHE IS ALSO A PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE—DOING SWIMMING, CYCLING AND RUNNING AS ONE DISCLIPLINE)


Long poem by Brian Johnston | Details |

A Mom, Three Girls, Two Cigarettes, And A Sparrow

Part I.

Harvest time was winding down, 
I was taking lunch in town, 
After spending six long hours plowing stubble.
Washing up I met a man, 
Guessed he was a harvest hand, 
His combine crew, he said, was fixin’ to move out.
He was wearing dungarees, 
We exchanged some pleasantries, 
His grease stained clothes revealed he’d no fear of trouble
As I left to join the crowd, 
Well, the cafe was quite loud, 
Chose a corner seat where I would not need to shout.

From my new seat had a view
Of the whole room’s retinue, 	
Men and women who make a livin’ from the dirt.
A table seating seven, 	
Which could have held eleven, 
Was where my new acquaintance waited for his lunch.
A young woman with three girls, 
Blonde hair all done up in curls, 
Joked with and teased an older boy with a clean shirt.
The youngest seemed the cutest, 
Still with girls there’s no sure test, 
It was clear that these seven were a charming bunch.
 
Well quite soon our meals arrived, 
As I ate I still contrived, 
To simply take in all the action I could get, 
Even though I felt quite blest, 
How I longed to be their guest, 
What a gift to be their dad, uncle, or brother.
Then, ‘Oh God, ’ there came a shock, 	
And it hit me like a rock, 
As this loving mother smoked her first cigarette.
It was like my best friend died
And deep in my heart I cried
As quietly she lit up and smoked another.

Excuse me if I’m unkind, 
But all this brought back to mind, 
A smoking relative whose life was soon to end.
Her choice couldn’t be undone, 
For her daughter and a son, 
Her addiction's death came too late with no one spared.
God has a lien on my heart, 
He promised we’d never part, 
Required just that I serve Him by being a friend
To others in my pathway, 
(Whether they’re pure bred or stray)           
My most personal assets always to be shared.
 
I felt God’s call to action, 
But doubting words had traction
I had a C-note that I concealed in my hand, 
Walked to the group of seven, 
Prayed all the time to heaven, 
And as a joke said, ‘Are you all on safari? ’
Told them I was a farmer, 
And attempting to charm her, 
Praised her family in some ways I’d fore planned, 
She beamed at the attention	, 
Was surprised when I mentioned, 
That I also had designed games for Atari.

I said, ‘You might think this strange, 
But do you have plans to change
Your smoking habits? You smoked two after eating! ' 
She smiled, ‘Of course I’d like to.
But somehow I never do.’
I opened my hand, ‘It’s yours if you’ll quit today! ’
I knew she could feel the Love, 
With one source, from God above, 
It guided her heart to miraculous meeting.
She looked at my outstretched hand, 
Crying, ‘I don’t understand, 
This can’t be happening to me, there’s just no way! ’
 
She still couldn’t quite believe, 
And with heart out on her sleeve, 
She looked up at me and said, ‘You’re kidding, aren’t you? ’
I answered, ‘Give me your word, 
That these changes have occurred, 
That you will never smoke again, and all is good! ' 
She turned to her three daughters, 
As if to check the waters, 
Asked them, ‘Should Mommy bid her cigarettes adieu? ’
Well the girls all screamed out, ‘Yes! ’
And I really must confess, 
The mother’s smile convinced me she too understood.

She didn’t try to hedge her bets, 
Handed me her cigarettes, 
She took some paper and a pen out of her purse.
I guess I looked kind of blank…
‘Write down who I have to thank, ’
She said, ‘I want to write and tell you how I’m doing.'
As I handed back my name, 
She said, ‘Oh look! They’re the same! ' 
And I found myself rejoicing, ‘I have done worse.’
Fifteen years though now have past, 
Oh, My God, they went so fast, 
There’s been no word, but no doubts am I pursuing.

 
Part II.

On returning to the field, 
My work’s promise was to yield
A speedy death to any green weed still growing.
I have farmed now many years
Know just how to shift the gears
Of a tractor which out-pulls five hundred horses.
Things were going pretty good, 
When, by landing on the hood
A sparrow made a mockery of all knowing.
To start off the hood is hot, 
A place to rest, it is not, 
Yet he seemed quite content as I ran my courses.

Engine’s roar did not phase him, 
Its harsh sound sure was no hymn, 
I was plowing fast over ground that was quite rough.
He’d bounce forward and then aft, 
Even slide in the cross draft, 
But it seemed like the little sparrow did not care.
I thought maybe he is sick, 
Perhaps his brain isn’t quick, 
Then I thought, ‘He likes me, ’ and I stopped feeling gruff.
Some days I serve sea gull schools
Circling my tractor’s dust pools, 
A moving smorgasbord of insects that rise there.
 
My friend wasn’t there for food
Which helped establish a mood
Of brotherhood like I’d felt in the restaurant.
It felt closer to caring, 
Something more than just sharing, 
Though glass stood inbetween, his eyes stayed locked on mine.
If our dance was like a dream, 
No enticement did I scheme, 
The sweet gift of his presence wasn’t meant to taunt.
When at last he shook his head, 
And into the sky he fled, 
I understood, by God, his visit was divine.


Long Poems