Narrative Birthday Poems

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Details | Narrative |
 *Note:  A 60-year annual tradition that involved a mysterious visitor leaving three 
roses at the grave of writer Edgar Allan Poe on the anniversary of his birthday 
ended in January 2010.  Curators of the Poe House and Museum are at a loss to 
explain who left these gifts and why they stopped.  On many occasions people kept 
vigils  near Poe’s grave during this period that began in 1949, but no one ever saw 
someone leaving the roses. In the morning, however, they were always on his 
grave.  Poe is considered the father of the American short story and 
his poem The Raven is one of his best known works.

Once upon a midnight dreary, Poe heard a tapping at his window
     While grieving the loss of his young bride, a maiden “angels named Lenore,”
A radiant teen whose long, black hair in gentle breezes would billow,
     Tapping at the window ceased, but suddenly it was heard at his door

Upon opening it, a Raven flew in repeating, “Nevermore”
     At first he welcomed this odd visitor until Poe whispered, “Lenore”
When he heard his word echo, the strange Raven he began to abhor
     He asked if he’d see his bride again and the bird replied, “Nevermore”

Though Poe died in eighteen forty-nine, a mystery evolved much later
     A century after his death, his grave had an annual visitor
Roses were left on his birthday by someone whose love appeared greater
     Who had left these floral gifts forever stumped the Poe House curator

Perhaps the answer can only be explained by reincarnation
     Did the Raven embody the spirit of Poe’s beloved Lenore
If so, perhaps the Raven returned again in a life rotation
     In human form she visited to lay roses on the earthen floor

And upon her death in two-thousand nine, she took to the skies once more
     A Raven who now joins the flock circling above her late husband’s grave       \/
Could it be her spirit remains with Poe, as it did in life before                         \/ \/ \/
     Bringing him in the afterlife all the roses a poet could crave                     \/ \/ \/ \/

For those who consider this possibility totally absurd
Just consider the fantasies Poe created with the written word

By Carolyn Devonshire
Contest Title: “Among the Dead,” sponsored by Constance LaFrance ~ A Rambling 
Poet ~

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

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and she said Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams but today I live in my daughter's happiness All my goals I left behind to watch her reach her own All my friends I do not see,to stay with her at home Money might get tight,but what is money compared to pure joy of a child What is money compared to her almond eyes Success lies dormant on shelves for years to come But what is success compared to first giggles to first steps, first mouthfuls and her little grabs Compared to gurgles and babbles to first time she calls me mama and hold on to my hands What is beauty in the world compared to a pearl This innocent child,a coloured coral petite pretty girl Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams But today I live in my daughter's happiness I had my days of wine and chocolate eclaires roses on doorstep,unsigned love letters with spiced cologne and enticing words Today I live in my daughter's shadow To watch her live her own dream I watch her bloom in autumn gardens from princess of hearts become queen Tomorrow I will not be here She might not get to see the white of my hair the wrinkle in my smile But,today she knows I love her long more after petals wither long more after a mother's hug fades long after I shine from the sky.
Dedicated to my beloved Christina with love Happy first birthday wrapped with barney hugs and Winnie the pooh kisses :-$:-|B-)

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2013

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     It was my seventh birthday party, mother had everything planned,
Decorations were in the dining room, invitations sent out, balloons;
          And on February first, I was going to have a party with all my friends,
I will never know why mother did not just cancel that party but she didn't.

     I was so excited about it, all of January I was trying on my birthday dress,
But at the party, I sat at the head of the table, quiet and with no emotion;
          I remember all the kids with their birthday hats on and playing with balloons,
The cake was in front of me, the candles lit, but I was just sitting there.

     Someone took a picture, I still have it, my mother and grandma behind me,
And they were weeping, but not because it was my birthday, but for Suzanne;
          You see we had just buried her the day before, she had died a tragic death,
I told my mother after that I never wanted another birthday party, please.

     The newspaper ran the story of my sisters accident on the front page,
Girl, killed under wheels of gravel truck, Suzanne, aged eight years, daughter;
          Of Mr. and Mrs. of 405 Rideau Street, was crushed to death beneath the,
Dual wheels of a fully-loaded gravel truck at Clarence and Chapel Street.

     It was the years first fatality. The truck was southbound on Chapel Street,
Shortly after noon, the driver told the police that he saw the girl on a snow bank;
          She suddenly darted and then apparently tried to stop as she saw the truck,
Her feet slipped and the icy street and she slipped beneath the heavy dual wheels.

     She was killed instantly, Mr. and Mrs. have two other girls,  age 4 and 6,
That clipping is fading but I usually read it every birthday, to remember;
          My mother said to me, why not just change the date of your birthday, dear,
But I refused, it is my destiny to have this day reserved to remember Suzanne.

     And I have never celebrated another birthday . . . and never will, ever,
You see I was on that snow bank also, I watched my sister disappear and die;
          Then mother and I stood together and watched her blood soak the street,
I will never forget my mothers screaming, it will echo in my soul forever, forever.

             No wonder my life has been tormented but especially on my birthday !
January 25, 2016


For the contest, Birthday Party, sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron

First Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

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Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.

Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.

My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered. 

In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised, 
But it is to be called someone, 
Who can be respected.

To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.

Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013

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Glen Campbell – A Special Person
      It was September 4th, 1968 and I threw an empty suitcase into the trunk of my car, telling Joan, my daughter, that I might not be home to celebrate her birthday. She would turn 13 the following day and Wanda, my wife, had planned something special. As I dropped her off at school she had no clue as to what was in store.
      Joan had become an ardent fan of a young Glen Campbell and he was due to be in town that very night for a concert.  We led Joan to believe we had given up all hopes of taking her to see him since my travel plans would probably keep me out of town that night. Joan reconciled herself to the distinct possibility she would not be in attendance at his concert. She was a very understanding young lady.
      When I returned home that evening, Joan was advised we would celebrate her upcoming birthday with a simple dinner out and maybe a movie. As we drove, Joan was very animated and proceeded to tell us of all the activity of the day. She didn’t pay much attention to where we were headed. Her chatter told us she wasn’t on to our plan.
      Well, when we approached the Music Hall in Houston, TX Joan realized where we were and became so excited I thought she was going to faint. She shrieked with joy and showed the textbook signs of one about to see their idol.  I don’t believe we had ever seen her so excited.
      Wanda had managed to reserve some wonderful seats, center stage 3 rows back. We took our seats and soon were enjoying watching our daughter watch this young performer transform the audience, mostly young people, into an almost hypnotic state.  We had joined Joan as fans of this young man from Arkansas. He was really putting on a great show. But something special was about to happen. 
      He finished the first half of his show and we sat there and listened to Joan excitedly chatter about what was taking place. 
      About halfway through the 2nd half Glenn pulled up a stool, sat down and asked, “Is there a Miss Joan Posey in the audience?” Joan was literally dumbfounded. We acknowledged to Glen that indeed she was here. Glen looked at here and said, “Well, tomorrow you’ll become a teenybopper. This one is for you.” He proceeded to sing “Hey, Little One” and there were probably as many tears in Dad’s eyes as in Joan’s. Her insistent question was, “How did he know?” repeated time after time.
      Wanda, in her fantastic way of pulling off the impossible, had written to Glen Campbell, in care of the Music Hall, and told him of Joan’s upcoming birthday. It would mean a lot to her if he could only wish her a happy birthday.  It was a long shot and he only received the letter some 2 hours before show time. Someone on his staff picked up on it and took it from there. He finished and instantly became a very special person to two proud parents. Joan became an instant VIP since almost half her class had been in attendance. It was a most memorable time and Glen Campbell will always have a special spot in our hearts…. Jake

Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2013

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As I woke up this morning instantly I begun mourning For I should be holding you this special day but I know that there is no possible way Wondering if you'd think that I would forget is just one more thing I am left to regret I pray that we will be re-united together again real soon till then I've blown you a birthday kiss I sent via the moon Overwhelmed I feel as if I love you even more today yes today is special after all it is your birthday But I couldn't forget you no if's, but's or maybe for you were blessed forever to be my baby You are now my six year old baby little girl and no one on Earth could ever love you as well Known now for eternity making this a very special day t'was only this day you became my daughter in every way

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

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Ok let's go up to the fire tower, talk with Ranger Ricky, Heh, heh,. What's so funny Harry. When I was a kid we use to watch the Ranger Ricky Show. He would run Popeye  the Sailor cartoons and every week He would say "An a very Hap-py Birthday to the viewers."An a very Hap-py Birthday to Harry, he is 8 years old today.He helps his Mom around the house by doing the dishes and sweeping the floors. Morning Rick, morning Harry, I've been expecting you.  I have some bad news, the  avalanch started at the top of Demons Bluff. Your chances of finding those kids are slim and even slimmer finding  them alive. There is some good news, 7 members of Killington Rescue have joined the search.That's great, the four of us have 2 advantages, we only have to climb 50 feet to the top of the mountain. Demons Bluff is on the otherside, down hill with very little snow
for 3 quarters of a mile. What's the secound reason asked Billy. Harry cooks as well 
as he knows this mountain, he is an Ace Rick, stop! Alright, I have 5 thermo-laser poles, should we bring the 5th one. Yep, I'll carry it.
                                           To be Cont.

   Author's note: This all took place in less than a 5 minute span if you think we were Dilly-dallying

Copyright © HGarvey Daniel Esquire | Year Posted 2012

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“Birth day” is the actual day one exits from the womb, (thereafter, “birthday”, is but a colloquialism for the anniversary of that birth).  Well … today is mine.  I’m finally old enough to drive … (times 4.56!).  Now, I’m old enough to vote … (times 3.476!).  One of my sons, too, this month, will become a half-century old … which makes me realize: I’m older’n dirt!

It is truly amazing:  Once you reach this age, it really, truly is incomprehensible that so many years have passed since taking that first breath – because our minds don’t allow us to think we’re “aged”!  Our thoughts tell us we can still lift that couch … or a 100 lb. sack of seed … or a box of twenty books.  But … the actual attempt proves our minds still have their roots in the concrete of yesteryear, while our bodies  are entrenched in the reality of … today, (that’s easily confirmed by a quick glance in a mirror!)   Contrary to popular belief … we are NOT as “young as we feel” … and to defy reality by allowing our minds to trump our body’s limitations, when it comes to physical exertion, is courting a hospital stay – or worse.

For those of us whose physical attributes have waned, we have great difficulty in accepting the fact that we now are relegated to the task of “watching”, not “doing”.  That’s the final hurdle we, of necessity, must overcome before we can truly accept … aging.  Our children, whom we used to tell and guide in what they could/should do, and when … have now matured.  We’ve taught them as best we could, and it is now their turn to drive the carriage – and, if we’re lucky, and don’t try to “boss” them, we may be asked to become passengers.

There comes a time when our day in the sun becomes a rocking chair in the twilight.  We need to prepare ourselves to recognize that change of circumstance and situation.  

It’ll be difficult for some of us … because WE’VE always been the one “in charge”.  If we are to survive with our dignity intact and retain relationships with those we love … we have to find a way to hand over the reins – and MEAN it – to the next generation which we ourselves have spawned.

Our remaining decisions will be:  Whether or not to re-bait that fishing hook … or what channel to watch … any decision more meaningful will need to be made by … our kids.

Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014

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 June 1987. All is well as we sit celebrating 
 my 30th birthday in the best little bar and 
 Dance club in our quiet little town. Empty 
 B52 shot glasses line the table and the 
 mood was PARTY. We all sat laughing and 
 enjoying the evening but then I hear
 a birthday shout out with a dedication
 for my favourite song.
 Dee de, da da Dee de de daa da
 Dada Dee de dada de de de daa da
 Hu hu
 Now I’ll never be able to tell you in which
 order these take place because in my opinion 
 it all happens at once. Your blood pressure 
 rises to 200 over 140, my eyes were popping 
 out of their sockets and I was stumbling 
 to the dance floor with all my friends. We 
 weren’t about to miss one second more then 
 we had too of dancing to our favourite song. 
 With our legs already to go it starts
“Here comes Johnny singing oldies, goodies
 Be-bop-a-Lula Baby what I say.”
 Out on the dance floor that night
 we danced our hearts out and still to 
 this day, when I hear that electric organ
 Playing Dee de, da da Dee de de daa da
 my blood pressure rises my eyes open 
 widely and I start rocking from deep inside
 As I sing. 

 The Walk of Life by
 Dire Straits
 I Love Rock N Roll

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Friends , I present to you a slice of History about the ancient Greek scientist and 
mathematician Archimedes , who ran naked across the street
of Syracuse , in his birthday suit, after he discovered the Theory of Buoyancy , with which he 
could find out the quantity of pure gold in the Kings crown ! Kindly read my 'Prose poetry' !

Archimedes: The First Pioneering Streaker
                Of History ! 
             ( Prose Poetry)

There lived in the third century BC, in the Sicilian
town of Syracuse, 
A Greek mathematician called Archimedes.
He was tasked by King Hiero of his town, 
To find the purity of gold in his crown; 
Suspicious of the goldsmith having mixed
in it , 
Some impure material of inferior kind, 
Which he wanted Archimedes to find ! 

Archimedes lost in thought one day, 
Entered the public bath on his way! 
And as his body began to get submerged, 
He happened to notice perchance , 
Water spilling over from the tub ! 
The answer suddenly flashed across his
And he jumped up leaving everything 
Wearing only his birthday suit! 
Running through the street of Syracuse , 
Exclaiming, ' Eureka! Eureka! ', 
(I have found it! I have found it!) 
Perhaps to become the first streaker of 
While establishing the Principles of 
Buoyancy! @

Archimedes, son of Pheidias the astronomer, 
Studied at the great Alexandrian city, 
Remembered even this day for his pioneering
In Hydrostatics, Mechanics and Geometry! 
With his ingenious mechanical discoveries, 
Held the great Roman galleys of Marcellus 
at bay, 
For more than three years, as Plutarch says! 
Later one day, while lost in deep thought, 
Trying to resolve a problem of geometry, 
Refused to hear Marcellus' bidding ; 
To be slain by the Roman soldier who had
come to fetch him! 
O those Romans, with lesser brains and more 
brawns ! 

And some hundred and thirty years after his
death, in 75 BC ,
Cicero, the Governor of Sicily, 
Found the tomb of great Archimedes, near 
the Agrigentine gate, 
Over grown with bushes and thorns , 
Lying buried in the scented dust of History! 

                                               -Raj Nandy
                                                New Delhi
@ Principle of Buoyancy = any floating object displaces its 
own weight of fluid ! Wt. displaced by a crown of pure gold and 
the one already made could be compared to find the truth !

Copyright © RAJ NANDY | Year Posted 2010

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"In the unmanifest [timeless (0)-soul] dimension, the ground of [eco-syntax] Being--that perfect, empty no-place [holder "Zero"] where there is only absolute stillness--you could say that God [Timeless Eternity] is peace.

Before the universe [spacetime] was born, resting in that state of [timeless] perfection and ease, it could not have been more [or less] peaceful, because nothing [potentiating everything spaciated] had yet occurred.

But when [timelessness co-arising into "Time"] God decided to become, to take form [in-form OVER ex-form co-gravitational function] this whole process of [universal through personal] creation and destruction, friction and emergence, was set in[carnationally] motion [ionic and ergodic and thermodynamic eco-balancing toward spaciating, then speciating, then individual egoing, then global ecoing struggling with our co-arising Win-Win co-creation].

That is what you are, that is what I am, and that is also the nature of [bicameral Polynomial Time Left dominant over recessive NotPolynomial timeless informing] God, in the manifest realm [Special Case, physical-ecosystemic Exterior Landscape as languaged by egosystemic metaphysical mindbody Interior Landscape, co-arising as co-gravitating].

What does this new understanding of God have to do with love [synergy of life-systems]? This is an important question, because the common [Business As Usual Left-brain dominant] idea is that love [Left] is God [Right], and God [Left] is [pulsating diastatic-pos OVER diastolic-neg] love [Right]. many of us, spiritual [natural] love [synergy] means compassion, forgiveness, [co-redemption as co-gravitation] and unconditional [bicameral] acceptance.

That is one kind of love. But that kind of love is the expression of God [Yang, in balancing precessive stage, toward Win-Win diastasis] as Being--the reflection of the mystical revelation that everything is already [potentially and coincidentally, coexperientially] perfect.

What happens to love when God becomes the [r]evolutionary impulse, or ["struggling with"] Eros?

That's the emergence of a very different form of love [synergetic precessive dynamic]--the expression of God as [Yang optimized Continuous Quality Improvement, Positive Evolutionary Psychology] Becoming.

In an evolutionary worldview, God's [therapeutic messianic] purpose is perpetual development [of health and beauty, goodness and truth], or vertical [ly therapeutic] ascent.

So in this context, the expression of the greatest love is an insistence on higher [eco] development. 

It is not the kind of love that's going to accept you as you [ego-centrically Left-brain too-dominantly] are.

It's a kind of love that always wants more [co-investment value in health], and is therefore always challenging to the [overly competitive] status quo of the personal ego and the [eco]culturally [de]conditioned self.

No matter how far you have come, there will always be farther to go [into (0)-interest economic and politically regenerative system incarnation]. 

This love [synergetic integrity of ecosystemic memory] is infused with [r]evolutionary tension, and it generates [co]-creative [fractal] friction.

The idea of God as [co-diastatic experience and memory of octave truth as beauty] peace and Love [of beauty and health] as [synergetic] compassion is an ancient ideal, one that took root in the human [bicameral] heart and mind long before the [comprehensively polyparadigmatic] knowledge of [Taoist-TippingPoint-Balance as Revolution] evolution emerged.

While it remains as powerful and as relevant ever, [sic] this idea of [Time as spaciated, then speciated, universal positive ubiquitous energy] God is only half of the picture. Now we understand the nature of [Time] God to be both [yinyin (-,-)] Being and [Yang+Polynomial] Becoming, [co-arising ZenZero] emptiness and [co-gravitational of mythic romantic resonance] Eros.

And discovering what God [Eco-Spaciated Time] as Eros actually looks like and feels like within [Interior eco-messianic Landscaped Bicameral] us and between [bicameral] us is new territory. 

When you embrace this [r]evolutionary interpretation of who and what [and why] God is [stimulating dialectical bicameral eco-balance], then you realize that yes, God is love [synergetic integrity of ecosystemic Win-Win memory] but love is a dynamic and dramatic will toward higher [Earth-centric co-] emergence.

It is [EarthyHuman natural-organic dialectic-systemic] God trying to evolve, through you and through me, and most importantly, through us. "

["us" = all Earth's RNA/DNA health v. pathology struggling toward positive optimization of regenerative eco-systems within cooperative universally synergetic TransParent timeless fractal-networking RealTime Win-Win Group (0)-Soul Geometrics of MindBodies as Time (-,-)1 = Space +/(-,-)0-Cubed, bicamerally reversed as +1/(-,-)0 Ego/Eco Deduct/Induct as Inhale/Exhale reverse of time's seasonal unfolding, pregenitors predicting their progenitor dipolar appositionals.]

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

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Imagine self, becoming 27.
Admired the elders.
Glad that prediction of not making it, does not exist.
Confused about if I can make it in the future.
Learn, thus, selves shelves.
I cannot imagine.
Hence we can.
Age is a number.
Eggroll to Paracetamol 
Breath like a baby
Next step, TV dinners at 60.

Copyright © Moses Samandar | Year Posted 2015

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Little Preshy Preshy trying to impress hidden fresh buttons
So down to earth i could pick you up even if i fumble
You sister hood my hood-ness in me till my ears turn into functions
You child a sister with a train of smiles that bottle passion

In birth you must have had piles and styles of 
life's appreciated stanzas in all poetic judgments
I bow before your spirit, for you Queen your surroundings with pounds of outstanding heart flames 
Love should give you unexpected roses not stains
This poem is a gift i long to plant in your gifted chest believe me
Though words can never paint your born day in fine art sickness,
its my remedy
The world is field with smiley diseases of felonies

Take a flight to nowhere and return with more clans that know your temple
Press the birth button while killing fears
Impress Isabel with a doorbell for she cleans her heart with smiles far from cooler bags
Your circle is shielded by hugs and lipsticks
Impress Isabel with a doorbell for she cleans her heart with smiles not illegal favors 
Let Preshy Preshy row before her words start drilling bad manners in your day 
Happy day

(c) Raymond Ngomane

A dedication to Isabel's Birthday

Preshy Preshy : A nickname given to girls named Precious.

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2014

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Birthdays will come, ...We can't make them go
Some filled with excitement, some simply ho-hum
Others we dread, because they remind us
Of the swiftness of years, that are falling behind us

It marks off the years, and the the day we were born…
Acknowledgement comes in some custom or form
Perhaps we must please, or try to conform ….
         to the norms of our peer's celebration.

Perhaps if we're lucky,..a nice dinner to please
a gift, or a chat.... a candle or cake... the singing “the” song….
There's nothing wrong with all that!
But the older we get, no piñata to pictures to frame

So to recall one “event”…this birthday I spent…
Nice enough, I suppose …but the day decomposed 
We rushed to this place, on a workday eve.  
Not much time to dine, we'd be home by nine
A restaurant table….just a few of us able
No balloons, no cake, no candle, no flames
But acknowledgement, just the same

Over plates of ravioli…and eggplant parmesan
So nice….. but did I notice a few yawns???

Then one special moment, that won’t be forgotten
My little blonde grandson….who gave me a gift
He reached into his pocket…with a shy little grin
Said, “Here is Darth Vader….He is all that there is"….
And opened his hand, and his eyes so sincere
And gave me a gift to remember for years...
"It’s all that I have, I almost forgot
I hope you will like him..... I like him a lot..
"But he's yours if you like him….It's all that I’ve got."
"Happy Birthday Grandma…."

Happy Birthday To Me !!

For "Birthday  Party Contest: Sponsor Nayda Ivette Negron
Revised 2/9/16

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011

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Under the moon light we gathered;
Giving listening ears to grandpa’s trembling lips,
As serene dusk and silence embraced
Once upon a time onsets his tip.

There was the first garden of untold beauty;
A gift to the first man with overwhelming privilege,
 In which the first sin stunk humanity;
Engendering the first punishment as a badge.

Did the creator miss the creature?
Where else could they go in this plight?
These posers came like rapture,
While grandpa laughed to our naïve insight.

Still, he continued with an annunciation,
One Gabriel, one Mary in Nazareth;
Actors of act 1 scene 1 of salvation,
Here, faith steps on Everest zenith.

Nine months passed to zamani’s womb,
And the expected saviour came,
Gold frankincense and myrrh exchanged tomb
To seal Christmas fame.

Copyright © Emerho O. Samuel | Year Posted 2014

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I didn't get lost in the forest that day, it was my beautiful friend Angels Birthday- when night turned so quickly from day ,when the light just faded away. 
The rain pattered uncaringly on my sweating fybromyalgic hair ,no we didn't get lost that day, so it's not fair. Its just something we are not going to say. We set off at 6 in time for a jaunt , to walk and talk on the way - our tall giant friends the Ancient ones watched us go we were sheltered and safe -  
Showing their glory and mushrooms on which  grew upon them, their burls poison seeping out - So lost in talking, we didn't even see that light give up on our way out. 
When the darkness curled we couldn't see any more burls fondly, yet dangerously around we creeped. My happiness began to seep. My leg was falling asleep. The biggest trees I ever did See. 
We could be going in  a  spiral but there's no one to blame grr,
what a blinking shame - time goes on and you don't say much, as you all know that your lost, so I speak up. Shall we get back? You know the crack? Don't wanna get lost or hurt my back!  
Darkness now not my friend at all, yet amongst good souls and friends I wont fall,do we go left or right here? all we had was phone light no gear,good old modern technology no torches here. An app that gives you light that turns off when it feels like... it starts seeping you in fear....Then suddenly you hear
The road ahhhh ecstasy,follow that noise I said with glee.  
That forest I didn't get lost in I have conquered yay. Up to the road we gleefully trundled and yet again, I say, is it right or left,no signs, nearly bereft . Only cars passing so fast on the Savernake Road fast enough not to care it showed.  
I jump out and flag one down as I'm prone to doing in town, in an emergency and always the angels answer, divine interaction has been earned in another chapter. A tired chap in his White Van had just driven 600miles ,yet decided he can stop for us three weary jungle born folk with smiles, and hope , who probably looked such a joke, he diligently told us which way to head and then a few more yards not lost instead. God I needed my bed.
We were at the entrance I originally drove to the campsite in! Irony working as it does when your my kin! We weren't lost in that Forest anymore that day, yes  time warped, wet, yet bonded, in dismay. You share your soul on a journey no easy adventure this one. Wiser, lessons learned and ready to emerge. Into civilisation come on.
Oh and Happy Birthday by the Way.

Copyright © Gail Lewis | Year Posted 2016

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I sit on the floor and wait from dusk to dawn, for a new day will soon be reborn. I count all 
the blooming flowers, and count down the long hours, while mum takes her shower. 
Today's the day, for it's my birthday. I hope I get A car, or A guitar or maybe even become 
A movie star, but that's asking A bit too much of me. I walk around singing out A loud, 
acting proud feeling as if my heads in A cloud. To my surprise I start stumbling over my 
words and begin mumbling. Maybe mum just forgot about me, or are they just hiding the 
presents from me? I walk through the hall, with my head dragging looking at the floor, 
and go to bed with my heart feeling torn. It's getting late and I can no longer wait. I turn 
off my light, and close my eyes and cry having so much things go through my mind. I 
drift to sleep but then I see, mum walking in my room in the middle of the night with A 
light. It's so bright. She raises my heart like A kite, taking of it flight and she says, good 
night, and turns of the lights. She raised my hopes high and then shot them out of the 
sky. I break down and cry, it feels as if I've just died. No one remembered why today was 
A special day for it was my birthday. I look at the sky and wonder why? I light my candle 
and close my eyes, tears dripping down onto my thighs, and I start to whisper in my 
mind. "I don't want A car, or even A guitar. I don't even want to become A movie star. I 
just want to be free of this disease called poverty, I just want people to stop running away 
from me. Free me of aids so I can stop feeling afraid. Stop me from being poor, so I can 
afford to stop sleeping on the floor. Make me smile for there is no reason to smile, but 
please make my life worth while. Take me away from Africa, for all I see is people being 
raped and all the kids hearts filled with hate, I'm loosing my faith for I am living each day 
even though there is nothing to live for". A Tear drops on my candle, And puts out the 
flame I whisper in pain,This is "My Birthday Wish"
We wish for luxuries that only money can afford. They wish for water for they are poor. 
People need to learn to smile, for kids living in poverty have A legitimate reason not too. 
Be happy for what we have, and never complain for what we don't have.
- Wiko Te Maru

Copyright © Wiko Te Maru | Year Posted 2011

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Daddy Can We Have A Doggy

It was like yesterday when dear little Sally was only aged eight..
That I remembered for she had wanted a little doggy for a friend..

Aw, Josh the neighbour has just have  the cutest puppy I have ever seen…
Daddy, is it alright if after school I get to go over and play with it…

Daddy, daddy,  please get me a little doggy,  a hairy one just like Autumn…
Autumn may be hairy, but it is the cutest, the smartest  and the friendliest doggy …

Though it broke my heart, my wife and I decided against having a dog for the moment…
Don’t remember how but we did somehow helped Sally get over the disappointment…

Growing up, our lovely Sally put on inches and excelled in racket sports alright…
The daily grind  has been  school, homework , revision and sports practice, time was tight..

Suddenly she hit fourteen, she’s a teenager and  and she is excelling in her chosen sport…
Studies still come first as she delicately balances studies, friends and practice in sports..

The neighbour’s dog Autumn has long passed on while Josh now is in some college…
As a family, we have been busy and it is surprising to realise 6 years have rolled on….

Just this evening, out of the blue, just like that, Sally my teenaged sports icon said…
Daddy, daddy, I miss good old Autumn the dog. Daddy, daddy, can we have a doggy…

Daddy, can we have a doggy, please?

Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015

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Midnight at Blackfriars 
The city spires are hidden, 
It’s getting colder fast, 
It feels as though we might have 
Some snow this month at last. 
The wind sweeps keenly through St. Giles(1) 
The hour is getting late. 
Fleeting forms across the scene, 
Are making for the gate. 
December is upon us, 
The year is wearing thin, 
Parishioners from town and gown 
Now are gathering in.  
Rosy cheeks are shining, 
There’s a spirit of good will, 
We’re coming in for Midnight Mass 
The Christmas Eve Vigil. 
Forgotten is the riot  
Of Saint Scholastic’s Day,(2) 
To celebrate the Savior’s birth, 
We worship now and pray. 
Conjoining with the acolytes 
Dressed in cassock’s white, 
We’re caroling together, 
Upon the holy night. 
A gallant in best evening wear, 
Bow tie and cummerbund, 
And a high-heeled damsel on his arm, 
Is down from Summertown. 
A staff nurse from the Radcliffe,(3)  
Whose shift was at an end, 
Was seated close beside them 
Clutching at her friend. 
There the widow all in black, 
Who cleans the votive stands, 
Holds her missal open 
With stubby fingered hands. 
She blends with the congregants, 
Ignoring the celebs,  
And is back up for the service 
From somewhere in St. Ebbs.(4) 
A student in thick sweaters 
And ragged scarf of grey 
Is seated on the furthest aisle 
Hair all in disarray. 
Across the nave the prayer chairs, 
Range back in their rows, 
Filling up with congregants 
In coats and gloves and throws. 
In from the rear the friars process 
With candles all aglow, 
Up the side aisle to the chancel, 
Caroling as they go. 
Above their heads upon the walls 
Are stations of the cross, 
Reminders set in stark relief 
Of this night’s final cost. 
We see the prior in chasuble 
For the apse proceeding, 
To celebrate communion 
And give the sacred reading. 
The greatest story ever told 
Unfolds with familiar ring 
Filling our hearts with the promise 
Of Christ the new born king. 
Then with the service over, 
We make for the hall below, 
Where cocoa and mince pies and sherry 
Are served before we go.  
Outside the snow is dusting  
The chained bikes in the Fair, 
Contented now we homeward fade 
Through the Christmas air. 

(1)Saint Giles Fair - Convergence of the Banbury and Woodstock Roads in Oxford extending south the Magdalen Street by Martyrs Memorial.

(2) The St Scholastica Day riot of 10 February 1355

(3) Radcliffe Infirmary - The first Oxford Hospital 

(4) St Ebbes is a district of central Oxford, England,

Copyright © Neil McLeod | Year Posted 2013

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Brother had made me mad so I knocked him down the basement stairs.
Choicely words he hurled my way-His teary eyes reflected pain and back at me they glared.
Like a viper he laid around the house daring me to come his way.
Sorry am I now for I have no one with to play.
After several weeks had passed, he still snarled and hissed.
Only his foot- to-hip cast kept him constantly at bay.
But I grew lonely with no brother to rumble with; no one to share my day.
Then the thought struck me as a jolt of reality-tomorrow is his birthday.
Off to Mr. Green’s corner store I went for a birthday present- I had fifty cents.
I spied a red kite- asked him to rap it and back to brother as I whistled and skipped.
I presented the little red kite which brother threw down-saying you ain’t right!
Sadly I looked for a solution of how brother can fly his new birthday kite.
It was in the backyard, positioned under the lean-to – the answer to my prayer.
I dragged it out and cleaned her with new found hope and no despair.
I carried my brother and placed him in the little red wagon with difficulty as he held his kite in hand.
The school yard was empty- we tailed the kite and then pulling the wagon I ran.
The little red kite stilled high in the air as brother and I where once again a pair.
The kite soared the faster I ran and finally at the end of the day, a brother’s love had been won again.

Copyright © Mark Goodson | Year Posted 2012

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The Open door (My life’s Maze day)

Yesterday I painted my dream with the colors of the earth
like many I was afraid of the unknown’ land of dreamers’
The walls of doubt surrounded my thoughts
But to kill the shadow-(dark) is to shine light on it
And faith is ‘but’ the path we fallow in the absences of defined reality

I will not hide behind the shadows of ones long gone
Indeed you never know what you got until its gone’
As I climb above the walls of my life’s Maze, my purpose is set clear
I do not go up the ladder for the world to see me
But for me to see the world

Many moons have passed, Days have become nights
Weeks have become months, Years have become decades
But the true secrete behind the Vail of Mona Lisa
Is known best by the artist with a brush, Da Vinci had a code
Yet the portrait revealed is left for the world’s eyes to interpret

So fear not dear reader and walk with me through this open door
But beyond this door is a story you never Knew
This is a story of a child, as son, a boy and the man, you have come to know
Take no offense in the face of reality, indeed courage is not the absence of fear
But it is the strength of a hero within, without false promises

As the journey continues and we turn another page to my life’s maze
my foot print remain a mark not drawn on the ground or printed in rocks
As we have passed the ages of the soft stone
Let it remain visible in the hearts I have touched
And to the hands I held, the grip remain brotherly
The words spoken be a shied to guide and protect the broken heart(-ed)

For the earth’s beauty can only be defined
When we acknowledge that the moon, the stars and the sun
Are but one thing that give light to earth
As is the earth one with them
And we all stand to be judged but one creator above all
So walk with me through this open door dear reader
Let’s retraces the journey and discover through twist and turns
For the life of me without false promises……….

Copyright © Nobert Mathumo | Year Posted 2015

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It was not the first time, nor would it be the last time that I would observe with pleasure that which I am privileged to see only once a year.  It was Sunday morning as I drove to church.  There is no other day like this one in America and much of the world. It was no surprise to me. It's just that I will never get use to it. I'm sure you saw it also in your neighborhood.

The two major grocery stores in my community were closed, one of which is normally opened 24/7.  Some service stations and drug stores were opened, and so were the 711 convenient store; but the major shopping centers were all closed.  Sundays are generally tamer than other days, but this Sunday was more than tame. The massive parking lots were empty; and today is truly in a deep state of rest with most of its activities curtailed.  I only wish I had a picture of those empty lots.
Today, the absence of commerce, shopping, and the empty parking lots were in their own way making a declaration.  They were speaking with one voice and saying, "A child was born many years ago, and today we celebrate his birth"!

Many people are going to church today who otherwise would not be attending.  This group will make special efforts to attend church either out of tradition, or because they believe that a special child was born.  Some will renew or change their minds and recommit to continue going to church.

Perhaps you were thinking that I saw some miraculous event or sited an angelic occurrence.  Maybe you are thinking that I saw a magnanimous random act of kindness. Could it be that you assumed I witnessed a special sun rising or a special cloud formation?  No, none of the above was things that caused me to pause or stare, or become afraid and overwhelmed.

 Nevertheless, I observed and took note of a miracle that causes commerce to take a break.  That is scary.  I also sited the calming tide of inactivity in my route to church as if the angelic host had spoken pause to the atmosphere.   The very solemnity and tranquility of a morning like this has already shown to me that the child has shone brighter than the sun in the hearts of millions, and like a beautiful slow moving cloud, a love haven for him has been formed in the hearts of mankind the world over.   And today, the world that I witnessed, paused and bowed at his feet. Written 12272011;Edited and posted to PS 12112015; Contest, What Christmas Means To You, NA

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

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Well here I am you all called me so late
Wait on the porch
Man I have another date
Hold up do not leave they are coming to the door

Close your eyes
Man I smell a lot of smoke
Is that barbecue they cooking and more
Surprise it’s your celebration old silly man

You deserve it 
Well put the mike in my hand
I am ready to turn up for real
Back aching like a worker on a mill

Cutting down trees for twenty four hours
I might smell like musk, I didn’t take a shower
No man that’s okay you always smell bad
What dude

I am just playing and turned rolled with laughed
Its party time and the guest have arrived
Pop the bottles hit the music let’s get up and jive
Fast smooth to the beat of the rhythm

Its party time get'em
Let’s get up and fall deep 
When this party is over I am getting me some sleep

Copyright © Elisheba Yahudah | Year Posted 2016

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(May Birthstone: Emeralds)

On May 2nd, I attempted 
to enter the world,
 feet first.

To save both Mother and baby, 
the midwife's cruel hands 
reached in
and flipped me over.

My lack of cries,
a clue not understood.

Nighttime seizures, 
memory lapses, confusion.
Pills for Epilepsy prescribed 
and normal life restored.

Prayer for healing, in faith,
stronger than a mustard seed . . .
Ask, and you shall receive.
Pills dumped in the waste-bin.

Suddenly, freedom came,
as soft wind which caresses 
emerald fields of grain.

Matthew 17:20, Luke 17:6,
     John 16:24 RSV

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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"Imagine a lovely garden, tea for two and this story"....A Rambling Poet

Just nine years old but she had a dream
of serving others, of doing good.
Adults were failing, but this young girl
decided to do everything she could.

Her birthday was coming, she had a plan.
She asked her mama, who soon agreed.
No gifts wanted by birthday girl,
but rather money for world in need.

She’d heard of the children in Africa
with no fresh water to cool their thirst.
She wanted to cure all of their ills
and need for water would be the first.

Three hundred dollars she set as a goal,
which she almost reached by her birthday.
She didn’t give up, she would find the rest.
She must have three hundred to send away.

There are other children who’ve done the same,
given up their gifts for the water cause,
but Rachel’s story is quite unique
which I’ll tell you now, but I must pause

To steady my hands to pour the tea
and to wipe away this unwanted tear.
More of her story I’ll tell you now.
New twists and turns will soon appear.

Rachel was traveling with her mom,
on some good deed, I have no doubt.
A car pile up and a child was hurt.
That ‘s what this tale is all about.

Rachel died, but ere she did
she begged her mommy to finish her dream,
to get the money to Africa,
so they needn’t drink from polluted stream.

Over a million dollars raised
by tender souls who have heard her plea.
The money just keeps pouring in
from simple folks like you and me.

“A little child shall lead them”.
Dear, sweet Rachel was one of those.
She put the needs of others above
desire for birthday toys and clothes.

By: Joyce Johnson
August 16, 2011
For Constance's contest "I fancy another sad poem"  Won no. 3

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011

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He blew the instrument twice,
Ululations were heard from all corners of the palace,
He started to sing,
The drums and other instruments were heard beating hard
As the group of ten girls from Chiungwa village entered the palace,
Wearing traditional attires and walk on the sequence of line,
Walked to the dancing portion singing,

(The king, the Prince, today we have visited you,
We, the village of CHIUNGWA,
Chiungwa of beautiful girls,
Girls of redness far of that of sun,
Internal and external beauty girls of Chiungwa,
The girls who wash with milk and honey,
The girls of the well made cheeks,
With breasts still standing like Xhu small mountain,
The girls of morals merged to tradition.)

Reaching where the King and a Prince sitting,
In front of them
They all fell down on their side to show respect and greeting,
Until they King welcomed and ordered them to stand up,
As they stand up,
The man blew instrument,
All the instruments in the palace followed the suite,
And the song started by the girls as they stood up,
Everyone in the palace followed the song, 

(The king, the Prince, today we have visited you,
We, the village of CHIUNGWA,
Chiungwa of beautiful girls,
Girls of redness far of that of sun,
Internal and external beauty girls of Chiungwa,
The girls who wash with milk and honey,
The girls of the well made cheeks,
With breasts still standing like Xhu small mountain,
The girls of morals merged to tradition.)

The girls danced until twelve midnight,
Midnight under the very clean moon and lights made for function,
The Prince ordered the entire palace to be silent,
Silent as he is going to make an important announcement,
The entire palace became silent and the Prince spoke,

“I, N’wa l’le, the Prince of Vitsiza kingdom,
After a thorough thinking,
I have came to this conclusive decision,
Decision that will not be overturned or reversed,
As I have reached my point of choosing a bride,
I announce that,
I choose all ten girls of Chiungwa village to be my brides,
My brides with equal status before me,
So. I rest my decision there with no option to be challenged,
Thank you,
I will ask the song to continue and all of them  to proceed,
To proceed to stand before me and my king for blessings.”

After all these the music struck,
And all ten girls proceeded to the front,
The king gave the blessings from first to the ninth girl,
After he blessed the tenth, he fell down,
Fell down like a rotten pole,
All of a sudden there was no breath on the King,
And the heart-beating went silent,
Seems like he left the world these way.


Copyright © Mulaudzi Ndifelani Eric | Year Posted 2016

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Have you ever had something happened to you that scared you out of your wits? I have. It 
all began on my birthday last year. (This is not a true story, by the way.)

April 1st, 2009. 8:00PM
My mom threw a huge birthday party for me, everyone in the family was there. A few hours 
after the party, my mom was invited to dinner with her new boyfriend. She was going to say 
no because she didnt want to leave me alone for my birthday, but I love her too much to 
have her give it up. An hour later, my mom and Ray were heading out for dinner. When they 
left, I went up to my room, laid flat on my bed, and fell asleep.

Two hours later, I heard a crash coming from downstairs. It woke me up with a jolt going 
down my spine. I grabbed my flashlight which was on my dresser, and headed down the 
stairs. I checked out the living room, nothing was wrong. I checked out the hallway, nothing 
was wrong. Then I walked into the kitchen. Everything seemed to be in place. Just as I 
started turning out the door, I noticed somethig odd in the corner of my eye. In the knife 
rack, a knife was missing. I searched around the kitchen but could not find the knife. I 
ignored it and went back upstairs, back to sleep.

My mom came back from dinner. She screamed up to me saying, "I'm back from dinner. I'm 
gonna get some sleep. Good night, and happy birthday."

Later that night, I heard the crash again. It sounded like it was coming from the basement. 
So I grabbed my flashlight, raced downstairs. I first ran into my mom's room to make sure 
she was alright. She was perfectly fine. Then I ran to the basement and looked around. A 
lightbulb had fallen from the ceiling and broke on the ground. I swept it up with a broom, and 
put it in the garbage can. I started to climb the stairwell once again, and there I saw it. There 
was the kife sitting on the middle of the floor in a pool of blood with red footprints walking to 
the closet. I picked up the knife, slowly walked to the closet. The closet was inches away 
from me. I could hear a gasp of breath coming from inside. I closed my eyes, swung open 
the door and stabbed away. I could feel the blade penetrating something, but what? I opened 
my eyes, and realized what I had just done. Apparently, my mother was back from dinner, 
and here lies her dates.

Copyright © Daniel McGraw | Year Posted 2010

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When I was 19 in the year 1978 my husband bought me
my first birthday cake ever.My babies were there and my
mother-n-law and all her kids.The cake was white frosting
and 19 pink roses they added 19 candles.

When they sang Happy birthday and the candles were lite
my husband said"oh my thats a big fire"and begin to laugh so hard
he lost his breath but soon was ok.At that moment I began 
to cry and then my husband said"hey why the tears".

I said"this is my first birthday cake ever" the love I felt that
day I'll never forget.He's bought me a birthday cake every
year since then.Thats why this is my happiest day of my life.
                            Teresa Skyles

Entered in Carol Brown's"THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE"contest

Copyright © T.A. Skyles-Theoklapoet | Year Posted 2010

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So, it is your Happy Birthday
Do you know exactly what
         That means'
Almost like a Humna Secular
Devotion fore on this day
You have been chosen
A son of man by distention
        A child of God
And made in his own image
Today you are born
With one Soul to bear
Flesh in one body
A Spirit to make you whole
Are we expected to call this
To be only human


Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2011

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The Prince and the bridal contestants

Long long-ago
Somewhere in central Africa,
There was a village called VITSIZA,
Under the leadership of the rich powerful king,
The very rich king called ( N’wa l’la ii), very old enough,
There was a rule of the kingdom,
Passed from one generation to another,
Rule to say (One man one wife),
The prince of the kingdom was known as N’wa l’le,
On prince’s thirty birthday,
There was a function in the palace,
And the prince was on his pursuit,
Pursuit to choose his bride,
One bride,
Young girls from the village and the surrounding villages flocked,
They flocked to the palace,
Fifteen cattle slaughtered for function,
As the function took on,
All the beautiful ladies demonstrated themselves before the eyes,
The eyes of the prince,
On their pursuit to steal his heart,
To the surprise the prince watched the girls,
Girls danced before him until six o’clock sunset,
All the girls were tired and nobody was dancing,
The strange man succumb from the crowd,
The man carried musical instrument made of reed,
When the man blew the instrument,
He started to sing a song,

(The king, the Prince, today we have visited you,
We, the village of CHIUNGWA,
Chiungwa of beautiful girls,
Girls of redness far of that of sun,
Internal and external beauty girls of Chiungwa,
The girls who wash with milk and honey,
The girls of the well made cheeks,
With breasts still standing like Xhu small mountain,
The girls of morals merged to tradition,
“Can I get the ululations as I will be welcoming Chiungwa girls,
Girls to come to the dancing portion.
I will ask the drums to beat hard and other instruments as I will
Continue singing)

He blew the instrument twice,
Ululations were heard from all corners of the palace,
He started to sing,
The drums and other instruments were heard beating hard,
As the group of ten girls from Chiungwa village entered the palace,
Wearing traditional attires and walk on the sequence of line,

                   (Continued on Part 2)

Copyright © Mulaudzi Ndifelani Eric | Year Posted 2016