Best Ago Poems
I remember, oh how I remember
the years that have gone by.
Our doors were never bolted
our windows never closed.
Women had part-time jobs
knocking on doors all afternoon,
their comely voices bidding:
Madam 'tis Avon calling for you.
Meantime grandma would sit
outside the house and gossip
with friends who passed her by,
whilst we would wander all alone
in fun parks or green meadows,
flying our gaudy coloured kites,
and gathering cowslips for our dear mum.
Going home after forty years
I came back to conquer my fears
Brush with the law forced me to go
Many, many long years ago.
The old homestead no longer stood
With its old porch of sun bleached wood
My folks had died, I got to know
Many, many long years ago.
Met with friends , they too had got old
Drank some beers, old stories were told
We'd built a dam, stopped rivers flow
Many, many long years ago.
Was going home a big mistake?
Had to know, a chance I did take
Demons gone , wasn't always so
Many, many long years ago.
Written 15th July 2019.
Writing Challenge 1, July 2019 - Repeating Refrain Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Dear Heart.
I have died so long ago.
The pieces of my bones were buried in Sheol.
It was so dark where I lay now.
My flesh is rotten and almost gone.
I have lived once in this world,
Where a loving family I was involved.
A dearest mom who loved me so,
Loving siblings I treasured most!
I'm a free-spirited young lady.
I love to entertain the world,
Wind hums as I hit the notes.
The nature became my hidden world.
I was once a fruit in a tree.
Until one day, a harvester picked me.
Still unripe, too young and fresh.
He stole my innocence.
Too many years past and my seed grew.
I have started bearring fruits.
But the harvester did not content,
He pulled me out from where I'd been.
He murdered me on one darkest night.
Then buried me beneath the ground.
I'm so helpless, no voice to shout!
My breath is counting one by one.
Until I surrendered the last air in my lungs.
I have died so long ago.
This girl that you used to know,
Isn't the one who writes a poem.
She had died so long ago.
She walks every night to find her home.
Not so long ago beneath a bright blue summer’s sky
There your eyes met mine how wondrous was the sight;
We walked together hand-in-hand long into the night.
Not so long ago I held you firmly in my arms
That we should never part or you wander from my side;
We promised then our love to share never more to hide.
Not so long ago in a hostile foreign land
I held your picture tight, and kissed your lovely face;
I wondered how you spent your day, longing for your embrace.
Not so long ago I heard your familiar, lovely voice
Though we couldn’t touch I wiped away your tears;
I’ll be home before you’ll know it to quiet all your fears.
Not so long ago you found me standing in a crowd
There our love embraced and never to let go;
I cherished every single moment more than you should know.
Not so long ago I watched the autumn’s setting sun
With shadows growing long and hours passing by
We tasted love’s sweetest nectar, and sorrow’s bitter cry.
Not so long ago beneath a bright blue summer’s sky
There your eyes met mine how wondrous was the sight;
We walked together hand-in-hand long into the night.
three years ago today
i still regret you went away
though tears have dried
and crying stoped
you seemed to live within each drop
the words i use everyday
three years ago from today
i cry for you this very way
today's no different from anyday
i mintioned you on many days
and touch the things with death
you gave
i wish the wish i always have
to be with you as i once had
i haunt the places you use to be
how i got there is a mystery to me
not by my power but maybe Gods
these three years have been real hard
beggining with you my greatest loss
what could i gain that you it cost
today is the day i could go mad
and tell them all that i was sad
today a day to destroy myself
but concentrate on something else
today's a day for me to use
to show the world my bitter blues
but prove a fool for love sake
as if three years it did'nt take
This happened to me twenty-two years ago. I thank God I am still alive.
I feel the ripple in my life's cycle,
impending risk that could rape my soul.
I look in the mirror, but no tears flow.
A virus cramps my shallow feelings,
an ominous glare that obscures.
The pungent smell of disinfectant
the impersonal looks of nursing aides,
the indifference of certain medics,
the fearful looks of other patients,
the smell of living death.
The surgeon comes,
examines,
prods,
feels
listens.
Like an auctioneer's hammer,
going, going, gone.
The verdict is announced,
a triple by-pass,
serious but operable.
"Don't worry, man!"
I look up at the wall
that surrounds my cell,
and see Him hung
on old worn wood.
Is it so difficult, Lord, to die?
Am I on my own in here?
Will I survive?
A tear trickles slowly down my cheek,
but now my inner self is lit.
I wake up from my stupor.
Life is a pattern,
mapped 'til our death,
but no man walks alone.
I smile,
I receive faith.
A glow illuminates my soul.
Tomorrow I may be dead,
but I am sure, Sweet Jesus,
I will survive, for meekly
I accept Your will.
The day I went out, you all smiled
"Welcome my sweet, my precious child!"
Tired, still you rocked me to and fro
Many, many long years ago
"What's that?" I'd ask innocently
You'd smile and answer patiently
All things I asked you seemed to know
Many, many long years ago
My peers and pressures took their toll
Got out of hand, lost all control
You picked me up and helped me grow
Many, many long years ago
Now all alone, independent
Lived life that's great and resplendent
In my hands was you in photo
Many, many long years ago
________________________________
July 12, 2019
Written for "Writing Challenge 1, July 2019
Repeating Refrain Poetry Contest" by Dear Heart
Second Place
The ancient prophecy foretold
so very long ago ...
has finally arrived
Coming swiftly on eagle wings
The howling wind carries piercing night cries,
as open iron claws fall
from the mountain sky
And the slumber days, shown many moons ago,
has awakened death — cursed faces
carved on the fallen totem poles
So many, many moons ago,
my careless people were told
by the Almighty Spirit
not to pray to their vain wooden idols,
whom they worshiped in the forest groves
A flood of tears would one day wash upon the shores,
and bathe my people in the ashes
of their burnt fallen totem poles
Our unheeded shamans foretold
of a white pestilence cleansing of the land,
and our idol hearts would be broken
Visions of rivers of blood
from a snow-capped mountain would flow
As foretold ... so many moons ago
We should not have slaughtered the innocent
of our enemies, whom we last fought ...
giving them no mercy shown
Now our wooden sins have revisited us,
with the steady waves of pale crested sails,
seen upon the new moon horizon shores
This changing color of the evergreen leaves
and red clay soil
was foreseen so many moons ago
And the fate of the ebony mane buffalo
is the spirit path we now weepingly follow
Yes, the fall of my prideful people was foretold,
so many moons ago
And I cover my bowed chieftain head
with the ashes of the toppled totem poles
It wasn't all that long ago when covid
choked the world with it's grasp.
People became anxious, some belligerent, when
asked to merely mask.
While others stock piled toilet paper to
wipe their sorry ass..
A million Americans suffered.
A million Americans passed.
Our health care system became overburdened
with such a daunting task..
People craving answers, turned to the experts to ask.
Our Ex. President gave misinformation with a
racist slant, calling covid the "Chinese virus",
he'd over and over recant.
Innocent Asian citizens were aggressively attacked.
This former President refused to abide by the precautions that
were advised. He wouldn't wear a mask and the medical community he criticized.
How many of us Americans would still be here today, if we had
stupidly injected bleach as this President once did say?
Four years wasn't all that long ago dear friends.
Is this the type of leader that Americans want again??
Mine eyes espy thy golden hair
No crown of gilded jewels more fair
Wither you go, you go with grace
Sweet one, ye who are so fair of face
I beseech you, tarry here a bit
Canst thou come and by me sit
I come to ye on bended knee
Oh, thou art the very heart of me....
Death,
thou boisterous ancient foe,
you crept in surreptitiously,
and bore a hole in our hearts.
It's 14 years now,
14 years of longing.
For seven years, the torrential rain battered us,
and we almost succumbed to the intensity of the rain.
Then,
a Moses arose,
lion-hearted damsel
and the lineage was rescued.
Father, I ache and bleed daily,
as I remember your tilling and planting seasons.
You planted many seeds in us.
Father, a little seed has sprouted,
and has borne many fruits,
succulent fruits indeed.
I wished I could give you a bite,
Alas,
the curtain was drawn 14 years ago,
and now you are a complete dust.
Adieu, my father!
Adieu, the muse that brought out the poet in me.
The pain, grief and sorrow that I felt after my father's death forced me to look for a way of expressing the pent up emotion of anger and sadness; poetry gave me the answer. Over the years, I have fallen in love with poetry and no one can break the union
My heart decided long ago
That life is for adventures, and
That bound'ries flow like rivers flow.
Though people told me what to know,
I'd weather ev'ry reprimand --
My heart decided long ago.
I fought false rhetoric, and so
Set out across an unknown land,
Where bound'ries flow like rivers flow.
I'd learn from flower, deer, and crow --
I'd sail the sea -- walk soft, white sand --
My heart decided long ago.
I felt the winds of wisdom blow --
The breath of Life, and Her command --
That bound'ries flow like rivers flow;
And on Life's river now I row,
My destiny within my hand;
My heart decided long ago
That bound'ries flow like rivers flow.
Long ago I was given a medallion, a gift from a beautiful women
when she gave it she said "remember"
Whenever I look at it, I remember
The night, the music, the snow falling outside, the frosted windows
This medallion has a flower engraved on it, with the word love
When I look at the medallion a song plays in my head
a beautiful piece of music called Europa, it haunts me still
A night when love was held like a beautiful painting
by two souls lost seeking fire with hearts of caged emotion
where a timeless sense of forever was burned
into the fabric of our wants and needs
I can still smell her perfume, still, feel the smoothness of silk
still see the candles flickering she lit before playing Europa
On a small table, the empty wine glasses reflected the candlelight
in a glimmering glow
She led me into an unknown world with a smile
where every sense was opened and spilled
Of all the memories I hold close, none as tight as this one
The night I was taught romantic theater
by a beautiful woman and her music
3/14/21 contest I Remember
sponsor Malabika Ray Choudhury
July fireworks bring together families and friends
for a much needed vacation from worries and work.
Picnics at and on the lake just for memorie's fond taking.
I remember the days of old when watching a movie
outside amongs't the stars and moon.
Playground equipment of a slide and swing
nestled right next to an entraptment framed
sandbox.Oh to be youthful and exuberent again.
Lightening bugs flickering into the night.
Today's movies consist of many smaller theatres
jam-crammed tighter together than a can of
sardines. An alignment of multifleck'd multiplex
light beamed shows across the screens.
Remember when Fizzies were the rage-Just
dropp them in a glass of water and sniff the
boquet of different fruit flavored bubbles would
tickle the nose. Ah yes, different flavors of instant
soda pop in a colored aluminum or plastic glass.
Just like Alka-Seltzer-only better tasting.
Can you remember back wearing shorts and
igniting sparklers and black pills of instant snakes
arising from the sidewalks or street.
Yes those times were just real amazin', and real, real neat.
Long ago, there came to the garden in which I’d been planted
a stranger who admired me in the spring of my life.
Tall was he; dark and gorgeous too.
He kept visiting my garden spot while singling me out
from the other lovely blossoms surrounding me
and who also called this large garden their home.
Sweet words he whispered through the garden fence.
His words became the susurration of the almost daily breezes
which he brought with him to caress my petaled face.
As he became less a stranger,
I longed more and more each day
to see him watching me outside the garden’s fence
which protected me from strangers,
or so I thought . . .
One day this handsome man flung open the gate to the garden.
Taking me by surprise, he strode right up to me
and stroked my blushing cheek.
Unaccustomed to unsolicited attention such as his,
I could do no more than stay posed there as always,
trembling all the way to the bottom of my stem.
Simply catching a glimpse of him
became all that I was living for that spring.
And although my soul was bursting with poetry,
I knew my role as a fenced-in rose.
Unable to voice my thoughts to him,
I could only bask in the warmth
of his amazing gaze, which eventually
I noticed being cast upon other flowers too.
Toward the end of that short spring season,
my spirit began to wilt, for I knew that this man
would be passing by no longer.
Here I stand as usual in my garden space,
for always I grow back, blooming again and again.
Many springs have come and gone
as well as some of my flower friends I used to know.
Others have withered away forever.
I too will wither away when only God can say,
and the handsome man my soul once yearned for
is but a melancholy memory of unrequited love,
which more importantly, I can look back on and realize
was not real love at all.