Best At Length Poems
I was inattentive in Science class one day
When the teacher at random looked my way
I didn't look up, I wouldn't dare
There's no escaping that intense glare.
Asked me to explain to the class
Newton's Law of Gravity and mass
My mind was a blank, heartbeats louder
For an answer, I started to flounder.
I stood before the class trembling with fear
"Gravity," I said..., and then oh dear!!!
I fell off the stage on to the floor
How the class with laughter did roar.
The children tittered in great amusement
They didn't know my sad predicament
The teacher said, "You've demonstrated gravity"
"Although you did it with much levity".
At length, I returned to my seat
With much applause did they greet
Now I look back upon this and ponder
I decide to listen and not let my mind wander.
She sat beside the waterfall
where gushing thoughts cascade,
like tears that flowed along her cheeks,
her heart set to invade.
He left alone for pastures new.
A scribbled note in haste
he wrote then fled, as cowards do,
her heart a barren waste.
A lightning bolt out of the blue
that pierced her heart; she bled.
Much later on the ache still hurt;
her feeble wings unspread.
She dared not heed the tumbling sound
as water crashed on rocks.
How fit to let death end the pain!
She started down the walk.
But just before the water’s edge
a voice called out, “Be Ware!
The road you walk is treacherous;
for God’s sake, stand right there!”
He turned her round, and saw her face
spill tears upon her gown.
He whispered in her windswept hair
“One misstep and you’ll drown.”
“Please, let me go, you do not know
what burns here in my breast.
I need to douse these flames and find
my sweet eternal rest.”
She struggled then against his arms,
the longed for end so near,
and yet he held with all his might,
spoke words to still her fear.
And when all limp she leaned on him,
this man she did not know,
he soothed her as he said these words:
“I will not let you go.”
Drained of resolve she let him lead
from rock to lush verdure,
as reassurance kindled trust,
his hand was firm, secure.
They sat beneath a shady tree.
Engrossed, they talked at length,
and in the process she revealed
his presence gave her strength.
He held her hands, looked in her eyes,
his heart worn on his sleeve
as they agreed to meet again
before she had to leave.
She touched his face, with gentle grace,
leaned in to kiss his cheek;
her lips just trembled there a while
enough to make him weak.
“You’ve saved my life, and now I owe
the greatest debt to you.
When next we meet, after we greet,
I’ll give you what’s your due.”
He smiled into her upturned eyes
and said these simple words:
“I’ve been repaid with sweetest kiss
my heart and soul you’ve stirred.
We’ll meet again, and when we do
you will forget the past
for then, my dear, I’ll make a vow
of love that’s sure to last.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Paul Callus & Eileen Manassian ~ Sept 2019)
(A Callman Collaboration)
We talked at length
The hours we passed
The life you lived
Oh the horrors
So many men's live snuffed
Oh Arizona, a dedication
Whose souls be at rest
Amidst oily scum
And so many others
Sightless eyes watch
The world in disintegration.
Yes, you’ve seen
Many unimaginable horrors
Those only Man can inflict
You’ve grasped my heart
I watched you whither away
A hero by all accounts
God rest your soul
Oh gentle man.
God rest ye gentle man.
My heart aches
With your passing
Now I have your cherished one
She that you know
Rested in my heart
For years and years and years
The one that tended you
All that time
Oh yes, that woman of women
She is in my arms
Forever… my very first love
The thought of whose love
Brings tears to my eyes
Together… finally…
Forever.
Never
Worry…
Never
Forget…
Just so you know…
Semper Fidelis... you are my hero Donald Canan,USMC, WWII veteran Western
Pacific... he told death to get bent. May God Rest your soul.
Thankless job, I think watching
as Thurman tries to teach the young man
The lad sitting up
on the tractor
like a proud young pup
is full of piss and vinegar
half the time not listening
and half the time telling Thurman
how much he already knows...
As Thurman patiently slumps
his still-sturdy but ungainly frame
against the tractor
fingers strumming his red suspenders
a good-natured grin
slowly spreading
across his grizzled face
gleaming behind think glasses
I see a glint of soft amusement
at this grandiose greenhorn
Thurman has lived through
the Great Depression, and then
the horror of hand-combat
in World War II
one of three from his unit
to make it through-
so there is nothing this little ingrate
can possibly do or say
to break Thurman's composure today
he remains uncommonly calm
and utterly unflappable
a small chuckle slipping out
every now and then
And while the young man boasts
and blusters on about
his plans for next week
Thurman is mostly quiet, until
at length, asked about his plans
“Lord willing-
and the creek don't rise...”
he begins, knowing how
much could change by then
I am able to move one’s spirit to the pinnacle of joy or drive it to depths of despair.
Not a chore to evoke passionate emotion--convey love, hate, life, and death.
Within those four small words lies our meek human existence all told.
To omnipresent Alpha and Omega, of what core lies between?
Now I sit with pen in hand to ponder many words of wit.
Gift to paint, not I, yet may cast an image to mind.
Bright lavender fields coax the amorous duo
to mingle with its deep, heady scent.
Amidst wet sewage soaked dirt
a filthy small child lays
weeping for mother
a bloody heap
close by.
See?
My!
The glee
holding words
Make them express.
Giving wide literate detail.
Understand to hold a soft heart.
Else never will you touch one’s soul.
So this is merely the lone reason I compose.
Excitement and warm sympathy and fiery passion,
within many a sorrow and tears and friendly persuasion,
in absolute care I do write and lay my psyche upon each page,
then wonder at length the primary purpose of such artistic endeavors.
Who among the world’s populace might gain an insight from what I scribe?
Does this really matter at all; since rarely, if ever, is it what one says… but how.
The paintings where discovered in an old barn
The crime of the century
All six paintings masterpieces
All the locals where questioned at length and width
No one had but a single clue
Except for the local art dealer
He whispered to the inspector
I saw a very colorful van
Drive off in the night
It was not someone from around here inspector
The inspector asked Theo, did you hear anything?
The art dealer replied I am hard of hearing you see
Upon which he proffered a flask from his breast pocket
I think Vincent lives near there, off you go and ask him
When the inspector sought out this new witness
He was no where to be found
They suspected it was his van
In conclusion
Vincent Van Gogh
And was never found
Notes: In America we pronounce his name Van Go, not Van Goff
While I gaze in your eyes, cool cerulean blue,
Sifting night, straining stars through morning’s sweet dew,
I can fathom the depths of empyreal skies,
Angels fluttering by, riding wild butterflies
While I gaze in your eyes, changing, aqua-blue greening,
I’m sucked into chasms, cascading, careening,
And yield to enticements which meekly disarm,
Seeping virtuous beauty, sad sensuous charm
While I gaze in your eyes, bleeding fiery blue
Ever tempting with treasures, with pleasures for two,
Being caught at the core of a blazing sapphire
Possessing, enthralling, aflame with desire
While I gaze in your eyes, misty emeralds, deep green,
Veiling laughter and banter, and echoes between,
Then I dream, so it seems, in whatever the place,
Of your scent, of your breath, of your radiant face
While I gaze in your eyes, at times placidly blue,
Near’ as calm as the weirs in the woods all bedewed,
Forty winks relegate to a shimmering lake,
Gently floating on lilies, while waiting to wake
While I gaze in your eyes, caught engulfed in the greens
And consigning my fate unto verdant ravines,
My reactions, at length, become shyer and shyer
Reminiscent of ravens at risk in the briar
While I gaze in your eyes, restless, hesitant blues
Overwhelming sensations with turbulent hues,
I’m succumbing to waves of a storm battered sea,
Being cast like a plank, never meant to be free
While I gaze in your eyes, shadowed, Midnight Lake green
Glowing hazy with dreams, misty thoughts so serene,
Sudden silence befalls me, a fast sinking stone,
Looming lost in your eyes, I am never alone
While I gaze in your eyes, saddened, lachrymal blue,
Spilling trickles of rain, pearls obscuring your view,
I’ll attend to your anguish and feelings morose,
Lightly kissing your tears, touching, holding you close
While I gaze in your eyes, pulsing infinite green
Of the earth and of heaven and all in between,
It is simple to see that my hands can hold all
Of the treasures I find which so humbly enthral
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re bountifully blue,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning is granted to few...
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re blindingly green,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning cannot be foreseen...
Yet I hope... and I wait...
He espied her all alone
In the open by the lake
Sighed in lustful undertone
And her body craved to take.
Golden orange, rusty brown
What a beauty! Flaming hot!
She looked awesome in her gown
He seduced her on the spot.
He embraced her in his arms
Stripped her naked to the skin
Without feeling any qualms
He took pleasure in his sin.
She succumbed to the ordeal
The abuse went on at length
There was nothing else to feel
But the fury of his strength.
When the frenzy came to nought
Overcome by need for haste
Trembling wind an exit sought
And the tree was left to waste.
------------------------------------------
Contest: My Last Contest (Jan 2015)
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placing: 1st
(14th July 2014)
Contest: Not Just Any Old Quatrain
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placing: 2nd
THE MAN WHO DREAMED HIS LIFE AWAY
When I was young the Moon was lifted
Hung with tacks and thread
On a mystical ceiling of dreams
She in her skyward place I in my bed
We lay so tightly wed we two sure lovers
That all my years flew round passed us by
While from out our eyes some angels gathered dust
At length proud man at work by day by night
His busy light in flood on tissue walls
Tried describe to she and me a smoking glory in steel
And a prophet raved – “Hear! Heed!
Faith is the one checkered King
On this fantasian board a playing.”
But I like my Moon bearing such pale light
Long dead a mere reflection of life
Was old and could not rise
One day I delivered a poem
one that seemed to be premature
so I swaddled her up
and set her aside
to grow 'til I felt reassured
How she yowled and howled for attention...
how she cried so piteously!
How she coughed and she sneezed
whimpered and wheezed
then threw up all over me!
Still I tenderly tended her bedside
and lovingly nursed her along
determined to sacrifice everything
to raise her up healthy and strong
As she grew and recovered, she wandered
and crawled over everything
and I found I had trouble containing
my rambling, unruly offspring
She became an inexcusable bounder
a wayward and bratty ingrate
who despite all my love and affection
refused to make sense or read straight
She dallied in questionable places
she idled and shiftlessly shirked
lazily lagging, ignoring my nagging
while I selflessly, endlessly worked
Firmly applied discipline to her
and structure, and meter, and rhyme
but she bucked, and rebelled, and bit me
and stayed up beyond her bedtime
We wrestled, and wrangled, and brawled,
bickered in bitter altercation
if I didn't do something quite soon
she would ruin my good reputation
At length, I decided I'd had it
we had reached the end of the road
and although she clung like a wet paper towel-
I flung her and flushed the commode!
Yesterday with its yearnings and sorrow
With shadows and sunbeams at length;
Have gone where the fears of tomorrow
Took a man whose conceit was his strength.
His transient raptures brought shame
From the temptress that ravished his soul;
Taking strength and tarnished his name
From the power he had that she stole.
Sleep on in the arms that still hold you
Let your eyes not shed all their tears;
For the hand that caressed has now sold you
To the sad treachery of defiant shears.
The Philistine put out his eyes
He was bound in fetters and chains;
The darkness that brought him captivity
Took the blood that flowed in his veins.
For the ransom of a corrupt Aphrodite
When strength was extinguished by desire;
The pillars are destroyed by the mighty
While his glory has perished in fire.
[Hymnal Measure Structure, a4,b3,c4,d3 with internal rhyme]
Come sit by my side, my sweet August bride,
We’ll speak of the things we hold dear.
Of wind in the trees and fire in their leaves
At our favorite time of the year.
Don’t you remember how deep in December
We’d listen to snow softly falling?
Though faint in the ear its message was clear,
A breeze from up north had come calling.
I wish there were more than just these twenty-four
Hours to spend in a day.
Then we’d go far, our guide the North Star,
And surely—at length—find our way.
But what to do until then, my dear, treasured friend,
As hope’s often met with dismay.
Hearing all the day’s news and questionable truths,
The will to do good goes astray.
So let’s run and hide, my wise August bride
To a place that no one can find.
On a mist-covered shore we’ll be happy once more,
As we leave the real world far behind.
5th Place, Any Poem Goes, Poet Destroyer A
Elaelana- A Nymph In the Forest
Inspired by Charles Amable Lenoir's painting, "A Nymph In the Forest"
Pronunciation:
Elaelana; Eh-lee-LAY-nuh,
Naphesai; Nah-feh-SIGH,
Mylesia; My-lee-SEE-uh
Elaelana, forest goddess, kneels beside the water lilies
Picking dainty, gem-like flowers to adorn her crown of hair;
Borrowed gems from Naphesai, her lovely sister of the daisies,
Flow'rs that thrive in shady woodlands, by the streamlet floating there.
Dressed for nymphean starlit dances in a dress of flowing creamrose;
Flawless slender arms upraised to rearrange the sable strands
Trailing from her Grecian features, pearly white against the gleamrose
Of silent lips, a little pressed, like rosebuds' tightknit ruby bands.
Ready now, so tall and stately, shadowlike drifts thro' the forest,
Joined at length by Mylesia, and her sister, Naphesai:
Elaelana, Mylesia, Naphesai, the sweetest, fairest
Threesome ever seen or heard that sang the nymphish lullabies.
I’ve got a secret to tell you, so gather round to hear
I had afternoon tea with the Queen in May this year
Her majesty was wearing a dress of bright emerald green
When she walked in the room she looked so serene
A corgi puppy bounded in and sat down on her knee
The Queen was perfectly poised whilst she sipped her tea
We nibbled cucumber sandwiches with the crusts removed
I didn’t drop a crumb on the red carpet, I hope her Majesty approved!
We talked at length about my poetry
Her majesty asked ‘could you recite one for me’
I smiled and recited an old limerick or two
The Queen then asked for a poem that was new
How could I refuse a request from the Queen like that
So I made up a poem about the corgi chasing the cat
Oh how the Queen laughed and smiled with glee
She decreed me to be the writer of royal poetry
So now I e mail her majesty every single day
My poems are read to the Queen by her valet
I’m an official royal poet and I am so excited
I hope it won’t be too long before I get knighted
Contest Tell a tall tale Sponsored by Jesse Day
07~03~16
We live the way each trice gets less
From Azure’s hue and from its ray,
And my life’s rye-coloured shirt’s
Broider becomes a tow grey.
There pale the petals of the hour
Of lilies of the light and hope,
Still, stubbornly, I’m looking for
Some thing whose breath does never stop.
And, to all World, I tell the tales,
The tales I’ve never heard before,
To convince it that Aeon still
Does stay awake in our nights’ core!
That the death’s time was never born!
That Life is only truth, at length!
That either of them has a verge,
And solely Love is with no end…