Best Residency Poems
I've grown rusty and unused to summoning words from a blank page - but FINALLY - there's something new to describe. School (11th grade) is over - at last - and... more.
There's a party tonight - a REAL, honest-to-God, in person, PARTY - for about 30 of us. Yes, vaccinations are documented. Life seems to be beginning again.
I'm eager, like a boxer before the bell or a racehorse at the starting gate. I'm an animal, long constrained, who knows it's about to be set free.
I'm as disorientated as an awakened dreamer and I find myself laughing, drunk with possibilities as I try on clothes for preliminary impressions.
It's hard to quash tremors of impatience.
I'm sick of helpless, indifferent, pandemic necessity.
I'm SO tired of boredom, circling me like a vulture, in my panopticon palace - that I opted for a respite of pure terror - I'm SO clever.
I'm skipping my senior year of high school and heading off to university. I'd rather die than risk spending another year in my room(s) - I almost went crazy .
There's a paper on my desk, white as a bride. It says "ACCEPTED for fall term 2021."
I’m trying not to let on that I’m afraid. Is desire always a tangle of impossible, contradictory impulses?
I've decided that my life is my only real possession - my own, small, life-or-death riddle to solve.
I want to live with intent, like I'm aimed at something and I'm going to chase happiness like it could be caught.
My luggage is open - like alligator jaws. I stare into those tan, Ghurka depths - rigid with anxiety.
My sister (home on vacation from her surgical residency) sees me eyeing the empty bags.
"Are you worried?” She says, “You look worried."
I normally find the sister-teacher-coach vibe irritating, but now, somehow, it seems reassuring.
"No," I lie - then - "A bit," I admit, close-lipped.
But that's a later worry =]
p.s. I write short stories too =]
When it comes to being a good father what do most young black men see?
Can they picture their fathers passing down any legacies?
Do they remember any male bonding or talks on how to be good men?
Do they have any perceptions or even comprehend?
Unfortunately too many households are single parent with only a mother in residency
Caused by incarceration, unemployment and dysfunctional inadequacies
Too many don't have a clue of what a good father should be
As the father factor in their lives was one of obscurity
But God is the ultimate father figure to each and every man
And if you desire to be like Him read His words and follow His plans
To become a good father you must examine the Holy Scriptures
And hopefully you'll be able to obtain a good father picture
Now tapping into God's heavenly Twitter account
And Facebooking the Gospel to see what its all about
Fully prepared to formulate, cultivate and stimulate your spiritual life
So that your behavior and way of thinking lines up with Jesus the Christ
A picture of a good father is a man who leaves a financial legacy
So that his children won't exist in a state of abject poverty
By showing them how to save and how to invest
Leaving a fruitful inheritance and a full hope chest
A picture of a good father is a man whose vine is rooted in a strong foundation
And structured to lift him up in godly formation
Respectful, resilient, loving, loyal and kind
Of strong moral conviction and secure in his mind
Knowing who he is and what he could be
And having healthy relationships with every member of his family
So if you're broken, bitter, angry and have any doubts
Seek God and a professional to help you work it out
And i say this to all women and I hope you receive
You need to let a man be a man to his family
Stop disrespecting him and put your anger and pride to the side
He is doing the best he can so work with him by walking stride for stride
A picture of a good father is a man concerned about his community
Who comprehends we live in a global society
A man who gets involved and not stay isolated
As we are all a part of this world that God created
A picture of a good father is a man who loves and respects his family and community
A man strongly rooted, striding humbly and secure in his spirituality
why do I love you when all haste say's
that I shouldn't first there was rome
the way the sun danced behind me
over venice canals then there
was Kabul the hints
of the infamous mauve sky catering
to my thighs I could even see how
downtown munich bathed beneath me
an yet all I could envision is that day
that way we danced at Langley
how could our entire surroundings
become so bleakly crafted
above ancient tongues desire
of youthful follies why do I love you
let me count the ways
when everything is said
I guess I loved you more
when I thought you were dead
somewhere over Arlington road
meaningful gestures created
with karma and military orders
us sailing out to sea a quiet vessel
wearing my name on the backside of forever
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Inspired by my residency in Munich Germany
The local priest asked me to pray
I did but I had doubt
For a while I lost my way
and I was holding out .
For me there could be no relenting
I had yet to learn how to grieve
There could be no repenting
because I had ceased to believe .
I was angry and hurting
and to my eternal shame
From the truth I won't be skirting
Even the good lord got the blame.
In my mothers house feeling sorry for myself
Sorting through the things that charities might sell
I reached up to the cupboards top shelf
and my mum's favourite CD fell.
Then and there on the radio
I heard her favourite hymn '' how great thou art ''
Why I started to cry i'll never know
but I opened up my heart .
In the car on my way home
Tears streaming down my face
That hymn now played for me alone
The good Lord I once more embrace .
I know my mother is happy in her new residency
and is now an angel in heaven high above
To me that song was her sending me
The whispering of a mothers love .
I've opened my heart and found my way
Though I admit I'm just a man
but now when I kneel down to pray
I know the Good Lord understands.
By Darren Watson
01/04/2014
For the Whispers of love contest.
Sponsor . Gail Angel Doyle.
It is a field composed of four times more stones than grass
with a spectacular traditional residency, making its habitat almost homogenous
is this global historic street light, shinning with well spread beams.
Through its inventions of western theories of tragedy and comedy,
major mathematical principles, histiography and western literature,
political science, the Olympics and western philosophy.
All well capped by the majestic influence from its creation of democracy.
Setting up as passengers of a flight travel to the past,
the suppressed heavily added to the density of its people.
Waving with an open hand and fingers well extended
hits the mind with similar intensity to telling an irish “smell ya ma”.
The puff of breath through pursed lips and the shade of blue
stand in mythical beliefs of protection against evil.
The unbelievable stamina of the Hoplite soldiers
all sum up the beautiful historic landmark of a nation
once defined by thousands of different quarreling colonies.
The leading producer of sea sponges
with its ships more than twice as much as its continental fleets
and a global accolade of accumulating archaeological Museums.
Despite being heavily wounded by financial meltdown;
and still drinking from the deadly taste of its black soup
its highlighted prominence in history, mathematics and philosophy
together with the cultural swag of its first world features
attract yearly interested sight-seekers much more than its inhabitants
which is an enough statement, to the testament of its global charm.
Hardworking, Hard Headed
Enthusiastic, Loving, Caring, Ambitious
The Daughter Of David
In Love With Little Mix, Netflix, And Youtube
Who Feels Guilt, Pain, And Sorrow
Who Fears Spiders, Snakes, And What Is In The Darkness
Who Would Like To See Little Mix, David Dobrik, And Kian and Jc
Residency In Hemet, California
The doorbell rang.
He looked at the clock through blurry eyes.
4:29 A.M.
Who could be here so early in the morning?
He turned to his wife fast asleep next to him.
Slowly he slid out of bed, so he would not wake her.
Crept down the stairs and to the door.
Who at this ungodly hour??
Not one but TWO men stood faced away from the door.
"Who is it?"
They turn.
Police officers.
But why?
Slowly he opens the door.
"Hello Sir. is this the residency of..."
He looked passed them.
The car was gone.
Everything stopped.
He couldn't breathe, or move.
But he was positive she was in bed.
"We're so sorry for your loss."
He ran upstairs to an empty bed.
She was gone.
Bureaucrat's wonderland, admin sensational!
Dealing with legions of forms immigrational
Fill 'em out, print 'em out, copy each copy
Certify, verify, check it's not sloppy
Ensure that your mug-shots' dimensions abide
By strict regulations, for proof bona fide
Designed to deter and deny the defrauder
Tho' he is from England, not South of the border
Questions for terrorists, questions for spies
Questions for arms dealers (unsavoury guys):
“Do you like bombs and explosive devices?
Do you sell drugs at unbeatable prices?
Are you a Communist, socialist ****?
Do you intend hiding crack up your butt?
Your shotgun's permitted (so long as you've brought her
For wasting wild bison and Indian slaughter)
Hoping to join the best nation on earth?
Show me your balls and certificate of birth
(Not just the awesomest, also the wealthiest
And if you have money, we're even the healthiest)”
Fingerprints, medicals, primary screening
Interviews, vaccines and queries (well-meaning)
“Tho' thousands of dollars you've paid for this pleasure
Now enter and exit our country at leisure”
I went to school,
Learned the stuff;
Did my residency,
Suffered enough.
Got my license,
Put up my shingle.
Can I pay my loans?
Will the register jingle?
Six patients an hour,
Ten minutes each;
Assembly-line medicine:
No time to teach patients
What to do,
So they can benefit
From what I learned in school.
Gotta move on
Into the next room;
Another case of sniffles!
For this was I groomed?
I'm not saving the world,
Just saving myself;
The wolf's at the door,
My dream's on the shelf.
So it's back to business,
Better not tarry;
Gotta make a living:
I plan to get married
Before I am buried
H-A-N-D!
Ciao!
God will greet you and raise your soul,
Help you climb above meet daily goal;
As usual should I have to hate to preach,
How to write poems in school should teach.
Always to people do properly relate;
Let teacher be your divine soul mate,
As well as learn how you should punctuate,
Before Congress English tries to eradicate.
Lastly,
Use proper English for purer distinction,
Before allowing it to reach its extinction.
Also, Google residency requirements that
determine your citizenship. If done abroad,
need local US Embassy approval. If you
don't believe me, check for yourself.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran, Poet
And not a lawyer so use Harvard Review
and Google like everyone else should who
had a brain.
Sunshine flowers fairies residency established nifty pixies paradoxically complexed; termed nocturnal.
Gnomes way my magic mushroom.
In my magic garden,
You see.
Fairies coloring gnomes playing hide-n-go-seek—Why I wicker baskets lined organic paper sheathe.
Basking sunshine only stones throw away from mush made verdure.
Mushrooms of dark purple magic record inches tall/divided merely centimeters width multitude.
Cultivation combined dehydration, supremest eruct seismic expansion.
Enlargement capacity mental trance gigantic, titanic moNSTR0SIty
Comparably selfish in reality are minuscule.
The other hand's on specially unique by human normalcy size.
What we refer common little people
And
Little folk know how to party!
In my mushroom liturgy,
Trouble makes err shine sun upon may magistrate.
Fairies/pixies, even gnomes agree do little periled peeps throw one bright stoned look.
Beg your party mention not did how way cook?
6-26-16
Connection is an offering of messages as people who crossed over
Connection is spirits of those we never knew
The guides of offering life advice from the other side are special connection with the crossed over life that surrounds our energy fields, life offering, support and guidance
The comfortability of guidance works with something we are unfamiliar with
The deepest healing carries through generations of healers and stronger relationships through meditation, communication with the spirit or family lineage studies.
Our life path are provision of guides through experience as verbal communication which can however not be of a great influence
The utilities also help in developing psychic ability or offer loving support
These are as multidimensional beings, existing in physical reality but simultaneously not alone in the world
The residency of our beings does not reside in other worlds but the higher beings classifying astral spirits that are in need of healing
Desiring to be born, modernity recognizes our psychology that family patterning has issues such as addiction, incest, abuse and other complexes that are passed down to generations
These allows healing of the spirit while affecting the living
Poet
Masego Nkuna
A man and woman
Lived side to side
A tree and English house
A pen is found on former’s hand
That knows no fetterings
His tales are based on happiness
A simple life with a tree
While all the while the woman sighs
The binds of residency
She brings her ladder down to him
Slowly down the tree
To invite him into her bleak
And somehow make him stay
The scarcity of the man’s life it seems
To be her serenity
And sadly so, she is declined
By the man who bears her love
A tear then falls to the saddened house
Accentuating the depression
A drop, five drops and a shower
As the skies sang with her sadness
The sky that longed the woman’s touch
Has decided how he could love her
The hardened tree falls at the man
In solemnity he was crushed
To which befalls the irony
Her then desire was to be gone
Two bodies felled to the silent ground
The woman and the man’s
An oak that fell at storm’s command
A crime of love it seems
Love lost, unreturned and forever gone
Longings torn from the hearts
Jesus
He gave His life for a worthless society
And for those who would follow Him , He offered eternity
God almighty willingly left His Heavenly throne
And walked among earthy sinners
Offering them residency in His Divine Home
Angels must have cried tears of blood
To witness what we did to God the Father and God the Son
The Creator of creation , the most High
And what shame they must have felt
When He was crucified
They must have wondered why
Their Lord above all Lords was willing to die
For a fithy race wallowing in iniquity
But thank God He did so for the likes of you and me
We must never assume we can repay Him
For what he has done to save our souls
No wealth is able to cover the sacrifice Jesus gave
So we might fellowship and be guided by the Holy Ghost
by Joan May Donnelly Ellis August 5 2016
Steal away the idol children
Work ‘em to death,
give them no pay
Carry their cries
on a plaintive wind
Pilfer their graven image mind
Then fill it with empty thoughts
of caste assimilation
Melting pot of Ag forged oars
had a fiery green blade muzzle shade
A laden, dragging metal sound made
on Independence Day shores
Bow wishful plow sweat parade
floated a Con-stitution charade
Sleight-of-hand stump rest speaking
Skin unlock plan
was auction heresy pulpit preaching
An Elmer Gantry shout
to the easy-picking pocket prey
Allow the stolen children
to veto believe
they can vote
the forced submission pain away
Give that captive audience
some fetter sugar cain —
Plantation toil saccharin
Bedtime stories of runaway glory,
sweet liberty lullabies
Cotton candy dreamland revision
of Emancipated lies
Printed mint tales of a mythical Abolition
be pigeon drop Prop-G:
Penny dreadful bales
of sharecropper Jim Crow caw con-dition
Sell them crass coined kleptocracy
Tell ‘em their slave residency
was merely indentured democracy
Pyramid-scheme toga villains
rob brazenly
Neo-pirate flags waving freely in the breeze
Steal away the vexed children,
who lazily
worshiped so gluttonously with pagan ease
Have the hex wards of the city-state
deliver hard labor unpaid ~ Such an unfruitful taste
Then tear tax their unproductive ways
Pickpocket tier demands
is how every kleptocracy is raised
Grifter chain-of-command
is Babel Tower iron tether praised
*Prop-G is my Ebonics shorthand for Propaganda
— Romantic Warrior