Best Old(A) Poems
A warm, September day, so many years ago;
our home was then aboard a large Marine Corps base.
Expecting our first-born with new moms shared, and so
my neighbor, friend next door, came over to our place.
A favor asked of me; to watch her newborn girl,
her little babe, just two weeks old, a precious one,
with chubby cheeks and rosebud lips, a tiny curl
upon her head. To play with, watch her, oh, what fun!
Day after, all went well in early morning hours;
drank bottle in my arms then slept in her quilt bed,
bound snuggly in her wrap of white with pink flowers.
Before long, Mama picked her up, and off they fled.
That next day haunts me still. Forever, will I mourn
the overnight crib death of my dear friend's newborn.
September 21, 2015
Contest: I Will Never Forget
Sponsor: Silent One
Form: Sonnet in Iambic Hexameter
True Story from September 1958
War, Evil Beast, Just What The Hell Is It Good For
War the Evil Beast what the Hell is it good for
A calamity brings death and great destruction.
Nation against nation, death and misery scores
Onto mankind all its deep savagery it pours.
A darkened force that wipes away precious life
Destroys our happiness, kills the innocent kids.
Ghastly the power unleashed and tragic strife
In Germany the Jews into dark cellars hid.
War gifts battlefields strewn with the dying and dead
The wailing and gnashing of teeth, wars black reward.
Torn up battle fields were brave men and women bled
Pain and suffering, written about by brave Bards.
O' Lord pray we thy light, wonderful saving grace.
We plead, stop insanity in the human race!
Robert J. Lindley,
Dark Sonnet, April 20th, 1973
age 19
Note-
In my small town there were two young men that tragically died in that war.
sad but Teddy Talley , a nineteen year old, a young man from my hometown died there.
Back then there were thousands of our citizens that cried we shouldn't be there.
An endless memory we all have, for it has a purpose, a meaning
Questions bloom in our hearts as to why things happen the way they do
The path I walk truly takes me all around, smile and cries, doubts a few
But allow me to answer my question to you, can you hear me speaking?
I can still taste the light, the ugly bright that blinded the eye
I wept, a different place it was, cold and vast in size, and I no longer was alone
Another person held me high it seemed, and across she was my mother, O' joy was in her cry
New feeling came about, I felt weak to all, I no longer felt protected by the a wall of stone
Growing up was even harder, born into a poor family, my luxuries were limited, but I tried
Finding my self as the center of most jokes, I truly did drop my hear out and it cried
All along that road lost I was, with a million questions in mind, yet no one to seek for an answer
My dreams became my escape, the only strength I did have was hope her self all in anger
Life turns just as fast as it begins to walk its path
Little did I know it be I to feel a truly hurtful wrath
I saw many hearts shatter like glass falling on concrete into a thousand bits
Black hearts walk all over, purple they turn as life hits
Period. A new chapter, 21 years old a new me born
writer a poet? Born a servant? Born a writer? Born to write poetry in His service
A new path given to my feet, where it can walk free of pain from a thorn
Dreams follow, hope walks ahead, but my faith holds hands with my heart
A flower awaits, her petals ever so green
Beauty lives in her, astonishing sight, a more beautiful soul I have never seen
I a lost seed, wish to grow along her side as beautiful as she
A new heart, a new vision for darkpoet is dead, on his grave blossoms a purple tulip
Ninety years old a life fulfilled
The things I've seen and done
Sometimes filled with heartache
And others just memories of fun
My wedding day jitters I'll never forget
The happiness and joy I felt
The day I met my Saviour
As I went to the altar and knelt
In college I was the Leader
That everyone aspires to be
I was the one calling the shots
The rest were just following me
High school was my careless years
And girls were my reason to live
I remember how my direction in life
Was based on the guidance you'd give
Would I ever catch the tooth fairy
As she crept beside my bed
And I knew that santa and Jesus was real
Just because you said
These memories for me could have come true
And my life been long on this earth
But for me this life was not to be
For I was aborted at birth
This piece was not written to judge anyone, only to encourage much thought and prayer
before making such a big decision
My first car is starting to smell old
Like my grandparents house that they no longer live in
Reminds me of an antique store
With trinkets and wooden and things I’ve never seen
It smells of a jacket
In the back of the closet
That no longer fits
My first car took me anywhere
When anywhere seemed like so much
It took me to games and stores and houses and places I shouldn’t have been
But it always got me out
My subtle savior I never remembered to thank
My first car was old a decade ago
It was rusted and I never heard the end of the jokes
But it was mine.
Mine in a way a lot of things never have been
Mine like a name
Like a part of myself
Of my past
Of my shame
My first car doesn’t run
It doesn’t putter and shutter like it used to
And I can’t curse it anymore
When it doesn’t turn on
It died before I could say goodbye
When I thought we had more time
Seems like an old friend maybe
That just won’t text back
Seems like a dumb silly promise
Like maybe it will whine at me again
If I turn the key
But it doesn’t
And it won’t
Today, I awake to see the sun
Not the case...for everyone
Grateful I am, to turn another page
To live another day...to age
Aches and pains grow more severe
Each day, each week...every year
My hair, turn gray...little there be
The strongest lens...I need to see
My ears are quiet, need hearing aide
Growing old, ya know...senses fade
Wrinkled hands, shriveled skin
Broken heart...deep within
'Cause I've grown old, a long lived life
Had some kids...had a wife
Watched my children grow each day
Until they wed, and gone their way
Many friends have met their fate
Why am I, to go...so late
I've done some good, I've done some wrong
I'll do some more...ere, I say...so long
To all my friends, I love you...much
I felt your love, I felt your touch
Thank you, friends...your precious gift
Your love you've given, my soul...a lift
A Contest on Aging Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
6-6-2019
Two Boys And A Wise Man ( Story/Poem )
Once there lived a wise old man. He lived on top of a hill.
Everyday he would sit outside his porch and look down.
He was very old and had a long white beard.
The thing was that he could not see. He was blind, but he
was very wise. People came from everywhere to see him
and to seek his advice.
In the village also lived two young boys, that were kind of
mean. They wanted to play a trick on him. One said to the
other - let's play a trick on him. We will get little bird and
hold it in our hands, than go to him.
We will ask him , if he knows what we have, if he guesses,
then we will ask him if the little bird is dead, or alive? If he
says he dead - we open our hands and let him fly. If he says
it is alive, than we crush him.
They went up the hill with the little bird. They said - wise man,
wise man. The old man answered - yes, how can I help you?
The boys said, can you guess what we have here? The wise man
said - a little bird. They said yes, but is he dead, or alive?
The wise man answered - he is whatever you want him to be.
If you want him dead - he will be and if you want him alive - he
will live. It is up to you, What do you want? The two boys left, they
knew they could not trick the wise man...
04/20/2014
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
Note: The moral of the story is
that no matter how old a person
is - That person can be wise...
THIS IS A SONG DONE BY CARRIE UNDERWOOD I WANTED TO SHARE WIT ALL OF YOU.
Little boy,6 years old,a little to use to being alone.
Another new mom and dad,another school,another
house that'll never be home.When people ask him
how he likes this place,he looks up and says with
a smile upon his face,
(CHORUS)
This is my temporary home,it's not where I belong,
windows and rooms that I'm passing' through.This is
just a stop,on the way to where I'm going,I'm not
afraid because I know,this is my temporary home.
Young mom,on her own,she needs a little help got
nowhere to go.She's lookin for a job lookin for a way
out,because a half way house will never be a home.
At night she whispers to her baby girl,someday we'll
find our place here in this world.
(CHORUS)
Old man,hospital bed,the room is filled with people he
loves,and he whispers don't cry for me I'll see you all
someday.He looks up and says,"I can see GOD'S face.
(CHORUS)
THIS IS OUR TEMPORARY HOME.
SONG BY CARRIE UNDERWOOD
THANK YOU FOR EVERYONE WHO TOOK TIME TO READ THIS
COLLEEN MARIE BONO
I cradled his head in my arms and sang him a lullaby,
cradling the m o m e n t,
cherishing every second more,
then, when it was time . . .
I placed him in his f o r e v e r coffin bed.
An odd bed for a little baby boy,
his little head lay on a b l u e as the sky pillow,
he wore his new blue booties,
an ivory christening gown,
and beside him a b l u e teddy bear,
someone had placed there.
As I stood in the funeral home,
I felt so a l o n e and hallow,
although many people surrounded me,
I was l o s t in thoughts . . .
thinking of that empty baby room at home,
there would be no babyhood,
where, I would pamper, coddle and feed him,
no childhood fun, no youth or adulthood,
no ripe old a g e for this boy.
No days or years to cherish him,
no beginning, just this sad end,
so, on the day of his funeral . . .
I sang him a l u l l a b y to last forever,
and I handed him over to the Lord,
I whispered, Lord, cradle my boy in your arms,
until in your time, I can once more.
The cars followed the hearse in a long line,
through the ornate cemetery gate,
and down the w i n d i n g roads with BENDING trees,
even the birds in the cemetery,
stopped their s o n g . . .
until at last, we reached the place of tears,
standing there cradled by family l o v e ,
all that could be heard, drifting,
was the lullaby, I sang . . .
_____________________
June 29, 2016
Free Verse(lost love)
Submitted to the contest, Your Best Free Verse Love Poem,
sponsor, John Hamilton
Seventh Place
_______________________
Submitted to the contest, Free Verse About Love,
sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place
_______________________
Submitted to the contest, Free Verse,
sponsor, ?
NA
I got my nickname in first grade
My memory of this will never fade
I'm 6 years old a whole world to see
mom says there's kids to play with me
I wonder if my friends will be there
Maybe they will save me a chair
I'm there now sitting in a school room
My friends aren't there I think I'm doomed
I'm sitting by a girl in the front row
She smiled at me, why? I don't know
Then I felt it start, to my surprise
that funny feeling you get deep inside
You feel like a balloon about to burst
not now, please, let me put it in reverse
The harder I tried, the worse it gets
Think they will mind if I release it
If I let it go slow so they won't hear
Maybe, they won't smell it or shed a tear
It's to late, must let it go, it's just not fair
A loud long blast is coming from my chair
I closed my eye hoping nobody heard
then came that smell, it's like rotten curd
I open my eyes willing to face my fears
I see their holding their noses and in tears
Teacher asked me, Steve do you need to leave
The kids snicker, as they shout Stinky Steve
pooping contest :-) ((Don't Ask to go to the bathroom!))
entry 5-16-2012
God Has A Plan For Me
I came into this world August 12 1986 by the Grace of God. I was Two months early and was only weighting at four pounds then. I didn’t give up then My God has a plan for me.
When I was six months old I was diagnosis with juvenile diabetes and been living with it ever since. My God has a plan for me.
In 1987 to 1988 I would not walk at all I was almost two years old before I decided to started to walk on my own.
My God has a plan for me
At five years old my father died from a massive heart attacked on the same day of my kindergarten gradation I knew something was wrong but I also know that My God had a plan for me
At six years old I was Diagnosis with Major Depression, Anxiety Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Panic Disorder, Separation Anxiety Disorder, and Social Anxiety Disorder. But I knew My God Had a plan for me.
At seven years old a close family member sexually assaulted me and I kept that secret with me now. But I know that My God has a plan for me
At ten years old I got diagnosis with OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). But My God had a plan for me
At sixteen years old I was diagnosis with Bipolar Disorder I used to fight and yell at any adults and teachers who talked to me and put holes into walls of my room. But I knew My God had a plan for me
At twenty-three years old I was diagnosis with hypercholesterolemia, MRSA but My God has a plan for me
At twenty-eight I was diagnosis with Inflammation of the Bronchial Tubes, Major Depression, Bipolar Disorder the one I have is the Rapid-Cycling, Schizophrenia and I am on Suicide Watch But I am Still here.
My God Still Have A Plan For Me.
He was born perfect in every way
Until that fateful day
When from a height was dropped
His knee joint fractured, out it had popped
Was just two weeks old a boxer pup
Went to the vets to have it bandaged up
Had a plaster cast, yet he still wanted to play
When cast came off, he limped from that day
Named him Cassidy cos he hopped along
Never a growl or bite though big and strong
Was a perfect pet in every way until cancer struck
Just eight years old he said goodbye with a lick.
He won a rosette in an Obedience Contest
Which shows you don't have to be perfect to be the best.
Penned 6 November 2014
Conception’s stain imputed sin again
my first cry swallowed by a bulb syringe.
At five years old, a chapel’s altar call
remained in me, the echo of your name.
Among a culture’s art of chase and hunt,
temptation’s treasures took my youth away,
my own Bathshebas broke Pandora’s box.
A pride unwilling for divine reproof,
evolved a spoken vengeance into blades
that would deliver the wounds my fists couldn’t.
Profane reflections gave illusions right,
the blind impatience always in my heart
to feel the edge of your permissive will,
left bones now heavy with the wages paid.
A whisper under the seas of our noise,
conviction bleeds the shadows from our hearts,
devoid of life, the chambers shown depraved.
The light of Christ’s salvation left untouched
at every worldly summit – nothing there.
Can’t get through the eye of the needle gate,
a want, to need, submit to bread and wine.
To change a man, the written Sword will carve
itself inside the soul, a life now new.
Not just what you have done or what you give,
but more of what you are that answers why.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Contest:
Sponsor:
Written: 02.15.18
The pleasure of old age
This is good morning only been up twice in the night and not
Stumbled over furniture, his wife kept filling the house with
Unwanted things. When he protest she says he lacks artistic sense.
A good morning because he was able to empty his bladder
Without sounding like a cat on a hot tin roof - yes I know-
Whoever when young thought of the simple Act of evacuation?
The pleasure it is to do so without using
A suppository, the simple enjoyment of the thriving completed.
There is, especially when old, a certain sexual pleasure of
A body that functions, it can so easily go wrong, that extra
Glass of whisky, a glass of wine one should have left
Untouched on the table, with a cloth clean as a cerulean sky.
Today he would only have soup for Lunch and no red wine.
Better be on the safe and alive. But there are moments he
Thinks “what does it matters you are dying anyway; silly man.”
God didn’t give you extra time to read slimming magazines
But to be a connoisseur of Portuguese red wine, that is mild as
Spring and dreamy as a horse chewing hay in his stable when
It rains and the farmer has gone to Sunday mass.
Why are children beaten and maimed?
Why are Black men imprisoned when framed?
Why do the poor live each day with a sigh?
Why are we born, grow old and just die?
Why do we backstab, betray a true friend
Why does the rain from Heaven descend?
Many people are wealthy, then Why is there lack?
Why is everything evil equated with Black?
We say kids are our future/a glory divine
Then Why Conyers Georgia and Why Columbine?
Between the young and the old, a generational gap
Why do we scorn and misunderstand Rap?
We have love for The Lord, and frown on abortion
Why does corporate America engage in extortion?
Once Prayers guided schools, but now it seems it's too late
Why the separation between the Church and the State?
Divided we fall, and united we stand
Then, Why does Great Africa exist by a strand?
"The Land Of The Free", in our lore it's been told
Yet, now there's few rainbows and even less pots of gold
All the signs are before us, still our vision stays blurred
Why believe a False Prophet instead of God's Word?
The Anti Christ/Beast/and Babylon's Whore
Why Osama Bin Laden and rumors of war?
I'm groping in darkness for answers with no concrete reply
So, I'll continue my sojourn...with the question of....Why?
Why? 2002