Best Michael Jordan Poems
a poet's soul is brimming with life
through tragedies and glorious highs,
we all are connected; we all deeply care;
a poet's soul speaks to the heart in us all.
this poet i have recently come to know
personfies overcoming tremendous odds
with grace, honesty and a generous spirit
this poet writes truth, deeply rooted in faith.
i feel blessed to know this kind, poet soul
his writing inspires and encourages by example
to whom do i speak of you wonder, i know,
michael jordan, poet soul; this tag is for you.
~the lovely & talented joseph spence wrote a tag
for me, this is my first; i hope you enjoy~
***thank you joseph, i hope i did ok***
Many a tribute is written
Only the writer knows why
The reason I'm writing this
He could have been goodbye
This Bakersfield boy
Smith Corner he graced
To lose his mother at 4
A young soul misplaced
Loving Grandparents
Filled an empty void
For the loss of a parent
Internal destroy
High School reached
Hooked on drugs
Degenerating body
Societies bug
He ended up here
And also there
To the age of 41
In hazed stare
An Angel was released
To look after her son
As he rose from his prayer
His new life begun
Then came the day
A son was reborn
In a town called Willows
The end of his storm
Another two Angels appeared
Michaela and Antoinette
His future path laid
All three, truly set
Mr Michael Jordan
I think your grand
You help your past
Now that's a stand
A leader, a gent
Poet and dude
To shake your hand
I wish i could
My tribute to a wonderful person whose life story always moved me.
From Willows California,
Comes one man’s poetic verse.
Who was once consumed by drugs,
But overturned that curse.
And with the grace of God,
He lives a clean and sober life.
To fulfill his life’s destiny,
With Antoinette his wife.
He has the heart of an addict,
But it’s not a choice of drugs.
It’s writing out his heart,
In the poetic forms he loves.
He’s no longer in a cell,
Under the direction of a Warden.
He’s free to write his soul,
And his name is Michael Jordan.
_____________________________
To Michael Jordan a fellow souper,
for his supportive comments,
his inspiration, and hard work here on
the soup and out in society...
Marijuana puffs
Famed hallucinatory.
Laced with excuses.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
June 8, 2010
Poetic form: Haiku
There is a very special man
caring, humble, proud
I am here to testify
and sing his praise out loud
He lives to love and spread the truth
of healing through the land
His poetry brings courage, hope,
extends a helping hand
To souls who've lost the rightous way
his heart sings loud and true
and Michael I am honored
to sing my praise to you
You spread encouragement, hope and love
to all who've been through hell
you share strength and compassion
for you know the horrors well
And now you live a Godly life
a beacon for all to see,
I'm glad you came into my life
you've helped my heart be free.
A tribute to PSer Michael Jordan, a true friend.
I miss my old friend
Michael Jordan
And sometimes I wonder
How is he doing
And I pray
To read the old gospeller again
Tumbling fire into words
Breaking Lucifer's chain
Renouncing the bitter past
And casting spells upon hearts
That wait for his spring to come
And often I wonder
Did the rain ever fall
Did the new grass grow good
As he wanted it to
O and I pray he is not sick
Nor hurting in pain
I long to read the old gospeller again
And feel the fire of another soul
Burning the wrongs of earth.
Roses are red
Blacks are white
if Hispanics want to fight
They'll bring a knife
There once played a Chicago Bull
To spellbound fans, a stadium full
His name was Michael Jordan
He jumped above the rim so high
It seemed his head might touch the sky
His dunks were legend
He made his team into world champs
Impressed on it his signature stamp
A fist-pump in the air
Yet more than all the points he scored
More than all the memories stored
Jordan really cared
He posed for photos with his fans
He'd set aside his private plans
He stayed humble
He'd just show up, a huge surprise
The kids would gape, wide-open eyes
Their tongues a-jumble
He'd play with them, and praise their moves
Then thunder-dunk, as if to prove
He's number one...
The years have passed, yet we recall
His majesty when he played ball --
And all the fun
Silver Glitter Eyeshadow
i toss my dreams in the air
letting them fall to me as i sleep
this alternate world i prefer
except that you're ever rarely there
in that distant land
where secrets i have i keep
safe from the waiting world
and waking eyes that stare and glare
*
if i were ever to lose my way
i know that you would soon appear
with glowing eyes amidst the trees
near the shining gate you call me to
i would trust and know its real
if my heart had no trace of fear
your eyes in silver glitterance
i drift to sleep and dream of you
Edited March 25, 2009 by Rosewin
A. Lemonade/Rosewin's notes for current emphasis and character growth hint:
"i would trust and know its real
if my heart had no trace of fear
your eyes in silver glitterance
i drift to sleep and dream of you"
:::YourFavoriteGhostwriter commented on The Heart of the Beast
Posted March 25, 2009
Thank you YFG I used to try to write complex poems with intricate words
:::YourFavoriteGhostwriter said about Silver Glitter Eyeshadow: What great opening lines again: tossing your dreams in the air like toys... and see, they're coming down to you again in your sleep! Wow!... You're a vivid/lucid dreamer and the way you depict these "dreamscapes" (on your blog too), the atmosphere in this poem... it's all... mysterious, enchanting, very real and at the same time "sur-real", or... "super-real" (as in supernatural - a higher world, another dimension).
Second part of the poem: those "glowing eyes amidst the trees"/"eyes in silver glitterance"... it could be a lonely wolf or something, it's like... something/someone dangerous, calling you "near the shining gate"... but in your heart there is "no trace of fear"... and then there you go again to this dreamland ("i drift to sleep") and meets this person/creature, some god of goddess of "the other land"? This is, well... a hypnotising poem! It attracts the reader, pulls him/her into this enchanted domain! This poem speaks to the reader as the sjaman once did (don't know if "sjaman" is English), it's truly mystic
The Goldfish Bowl
Once injected with water, sorrow becomes colorless and tasteless
Inside the glass bowl, all lives
only live seven seconds
The same route, again and again --
The beginning is the end. Stubborn as Sisyphus
Eyes watered and drifted away
A trace of love burns
I have a sister on Flower Road
She is the most colorful fish in the bowl
No brand, just serve regular customers
I've always been fascinated by the sublime sense of her up-rolling eyes
In the goldfish bowl
Happiness is greater than loneliness
The men and women of Flower Road know it
When I walk by
with my head down
Stares in the dark shoot me like arrows
My sister sleeps at dawn,
wakes at night
and easy to forget all “should”
or “should not”
Love is a thing that grows like a vine
It's message is clear just look for the sign
It's like a flower that grows from a seed
It's beauty will provide all that you need
It's strong enough to survive the hardest of task
Yet soft enough to let go of all of its mask
For there is no need to be what your not
If the one you love loves you a lot
When in love you forgive all the mistakes
And take more than you ever thought you could take
You learn to share more than you should share
As well as care more than you should care
Love is two people doing all that they can
To share in the power and joy of the land
Love is two people blessing each others hearts
And keeping the world from tearing them apart
Love is drying each others tears
And love is facing each others fears
Love is the beginning as well as the end
It's the comforting words of a dear friend
Love is till death and after its gone
The one left alone shall always love on
And after death conquers the left alone mate
Love is the other waiting at the gates
Narrative of the Year of Rat
February is like a fierce tiger dashing down the mountain
The trees and the grass were startled
The water in its inherent posture, ran and forgot
People became trapped animals roaring for their inner beasts
The streets have never been so lonely
Cherry blossoms do not understand the spring rain's pain
The old Yellow Crane is sobbing
for seeing too many sudden and hasty farewells
Those who crossed the quarantine zone were innocent
Liars claimed to innocent too
The whistleblower that pricks the hypocrite has reached heaven
Conscienceness spreads its wings
The elegy should be allowed to precede the hymn
Dark shadows should exist in the sun
March is like the thunder, all beings awaken
Some mourn, others celebrate
I am not a communist, nor a capitalist
I am a biologist and humanist
I am happy with all animals
and all humans with no viciousness
I love the leaders who treat the people with respect and dignity
and hate those who only love money and votes
no matter his name is Xi or Trump.
There is a man,
so caring, and kind,
I guess one of the finest,
one could ever find.
He writes amazing poetry,
and he helps everyone,
he is known as Michael,
California's son....
Now an author,
his books are great,
by chance I know him,
just call it fate...
Ready to help,
he makes the time,
although he is busy,
composing rhymes.
He loves his family,
it is revealed in his poems,
and if you are in his life,
it's a blessing to know him.
Thank you Michael,
for being my friend,
with your amazing talent,
you will always win...
BE MINDFUL And Respect Will Follow BE MINDFUL And Respect Will Follow. I have angels shadow Me Thru My TRAILS AND SHELTERS ME THRU MY JOURNEY PATH IN GOD NAME THRU MY PAIN.INLIFE GOD IS MY JOY AND PAIN LIKE THE RAIN .I SEEK HIM THRU MY TRUST"AND WITH HIM ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.HE IS MY ROCK" HE TRAVEL ME THRU ALL MY PATH" AND JOURNEY EVEN WHEN IM INTO THE VALLEY, HE COMFORT ME AND SHIELD ME LIKE THE GREEN PASTURES.GOD HAS LEADETH ME IN . GOD JOURNEY PATH.ALEXANDERTHEGREAT