Best Richmond Poems
Rev up your engines
O, youth of today
The challenge before you
Is to find a smooth way
To ease out the old
and bring in the new
Without transforming the world
to a dark witch's brew
You've seen what can happen
when we cave in to emotion
The protests of Summer 2020
dissolving into unbridled explosions
Where he who shouts loudest
or longest claims victory
Wherein Seattle, Portland, Austin
and Richmond are awfully sorry
Please equip yourselves well
Mark the landscape of the age
Your hand steady on the wheel
of Improvement - not rage
Categories:
richmond, change, inspiration, motivation, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
I noticed her two weeks ago.
She flew into my physics lab
like hell itself was after her
and tripped as she sat down.
She's always late for classes,
stammering her apologies,
flustered and myopic, her glasses
barely perched upon her nose.
Accident-prone, she barreled
through the library like Grant
attacking Richmond, giggling nervously
as she checked out her books.
To me she is a treasure, a whirling
dervish dressed in black and white,
always black and white, like for her
it's some particular religion.
I asked her to the movies. She acted
like I was the first who'd ever taken
interest, she was flattered but she
flatly and decidedly said no.
She had thrown down the gauntlet,
so I set out to woo her with my wit
and charm, taking every opportunity
to bump into her when and where I could.
Finally she acquiesced, and when
she slowed down enough to smile
and chat and laugh and joke with me
my heart was hers to keep!
Categories:
richmond, love
Form:
Quatrain
June 6, 1944, known as D-Day, allied troops landed on the beaches, an
unpleasant day that started in the early morning hours in
Normandy, France, and turned the tides of World War II. The
effect was the beginning and the liberation of Western Europe and
tanglement from Nazi control.
Exhausted they'd given their lives and we remember them.
Each soldier has their own story of the chaos;
none are the same as they were moved by impulse of the moment.
Their heroism and bravery displayed by troops
has served as inspiration to all our Allied countries.
7/14/2018
Poetry Contest: Juneteenth
Sponsored By: Edward Ibeh
John Lee Richmond pitches baseball first perfect game on June 12, 1880.
United Colonies changed their name to the United States on June 7, 1775.
Navy Captain James Lawrence said, “Don’t give up the ship!”, on June 1, 1813.
Electricity is discovered by Benjamin Franklin and his kite on June 10, 1752.
The Treaty of Versailles was signed to end WWI on June 28, 1919.
England crowned Henry VII King on June 24, 1509.
Emst Enno, Estonian poet and author born on June 8, 1875.
New York held the first fly-casting tournament on June 18, 1861.
Tour of the U.S. by the Rolling Stones started on June 2, 1964.
“Happy Birthday to you”, was first sung on June 27, 1859.
Categories:
richmond, courage, death, history, world
Form:
Acrostic
Paper art was tongue steeped wet,
Midnight’s swim in gel.
Tactile only silhouette,
Dense unseen new shell.
Dawn’s hot shower could not clean,
Midday’s warmth woke me.
Slow cures had tapped time’s canteen,
Blotter’s spell rinsed free.
Categories:
richmond, psychological, senses, summer, travel,
Form:
Quatrain
Ferret Legging
You never know what you’ll find on the net
Nothing much surprises me there and yet
I found a sport that takes no native skill
Just a strong pair of pants and a real strong will
Competitors’ trousers are tied neath their shin
Before two ferrets are securely placed in
Their belts are then fastened to prevent an escape
And that’s where the very strong will should take shape
Each competitor then stands in front of a judge
As long as he can trying so not to budge
Neither ferret nor man can be drunk or be drugged
And no underwear worn so your parts can be hugged
Pants must be loose so the ferrets can roam
From one leg to the other and their movement shown
Each ferret must have a full set of teeth
That have not been blunted or anyway sheathed
Ferrets have claws like very sharp pins
And teeth like a carpet tack that they can sink in
And ferrets are biters and you’ve got a pair
So your “tool” may be bitten and you better not care
Competitors can attempt from outside their pants
To dislodge a ferret that’s latched on by chance
The winner’s the guy that outlasts the rest
And stands there the longest in this little test
Scotland’s the country where this all began
And the record is held by a brave Scottish man
The record’s been set that will be hard to beat
Five hours 10 minutes and still on his feet
Unfortunately the sport’s been dying out
With PETA and others protesting the bout
But if you’re in Virginia, in Richmond next year
And go to the Highland Games there I hear
They may have a ferret or two up their sleeve
That you can insert in your pants I believe
And if you can just stand there for six hours or more
You can bring the world record right here to our shore
But first grab some loose pants and maybe a kitten
Practice with that getting use to being bitten
Work up to a cat and then up to two
That is exactly what I thought I’d do
Then I thought again and again then I thought
Can a lesson be learned before that lesson’s taught?
So I tried to imagine how a ferret would feel
Could I stand there a man without a girly squeal?
Would I be embarrassed or pass out from fright
And I thought and I thought and I thought that I might
So I’ll go on record, this sport’s not for me
But if you’re game to try it, that I’d go to see
Categories:
richmond, animal, sports, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
There's an old English song called All Jolly Fellows That Follow The PLow. The tune works fine as is for the chorus and with the verses if the tune for the 3rd and 4th lines is repeated for th 5th and 6th. Well, it works for me but my singing has never been much hindered by tunes.
It was after that big game one long gone September,
the score line was one I’d like not to remember,
in a small Richmond pub not too far from the ground,
we all settled down with our sorrows to drown.
We were well on the way, as were most of the crowd,
when in came a young pedlar a shouting out loud.
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
Cried the barmaid, “How many do I get to a yard?”
“Madam, four if they’re soft or three if they’re hard”
She felt for the soft ones, she wanted a lot,
but the more that she squeezed em the harder they got.
She found not a sausage was e’en a bit soft
so she told the young pedlar to go get far offed
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
Said the pedlar, “Why madam no need to be rude.
And in fact what you told me was verging on crude
But you don’t look so bad for a foul mouthed old sow
so step on outside, if you like, with me now.
If you play your cards right I might squeeze your left breast.
If I find I like that I might squeeze all the rest.”
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
Said the barmaid to pedlar, “You are a right jerk,
I’m a barmaid and never do mission’ry work.
But if you're near to the shops and you buy me some eggs,
I might squeeze that there pimple you’ve got ‘tween your legs.”
Then she said something that made the whole crowd guffaw,
“And will you stop off at home and please check the back door?”
“
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
For Cyndi MacMillan's pub song contest
Categories:
richmond, happy, humorous, me, old,
Form:
Ballad
William the First was our last king to come uninvited
though invincible armadas have sometimes been sighted.
Foreign kings were imported in cases of doubt.
Native kings had the habit of getting thrown out.
In the War of the Roses none tipped the scales
till the fray was joined by young Richmond from Wales.
A house like the Tudors for to bring to an end
on virgin queens you may safely depend.
Then came the Stuarts, who in Scotland had root,
but being too tactless, they were given the boot.
Though of Orange the house was not without fame,
some Irishmen spit when they hear Billy’s name.
George the First from Hanover as in matters English ill versed;
for affairs of state a state of affairs by no means the worst.
George the Third, however, spoke English quite well,
so Yanks up in arms told the Liberty Bell.
Thus Frenchmen and Dutchmen, Germans and Danes
have made their subjects rack their poor brains.
But the history of monarchs whose accents were poor
holds even today many lessons in store.
At the hustings all parties will promise us aught,
but after elections some memories are short.
“A kink is a man, no less and no more,”
said a very wise king as he sat on the shore.
“Let each of you here, thane or serf, be astute.
Don’t expect me to do what I plainly canute.
Categories:
richmond, england,
Form:
Couplet
He made no move at all
As the alarm clock went off.
But ten minutes later,
It was obvious he was awake.
He lifted himself out of bed
And went towards the bathroom.
He shaved himself
With a Gillette Techmatic
After having sploshed himself
With a double handful
Of icy cold water.
He washed again, dried his face,
Put on some Monsieur de Gauviche
And got dressed.
He wore a Brutus shirt,
A Tonik suit and a pair of
Shiny brown boots.
He was six foot two,
And he smoked sixty Players
Medium Navy Cut cigarettes
A day, and he lit each one
With a Ronson lighter.
His name was Titus Hardin,
And he had the biggest
Wardrobe in London.
He was a fair-haired man
And very good-looking.
He was thirty two years old
And a bachelor,
And lived near Richmond, Surrey.
He was immaculate,
Wore long sideboards
And a long moustache,
And his hair was shortish
And well-combed.
His shirt was light blue,
And he wore a dark blue tie.
He wore two rings on each hand.
He washed himself
After his usual breakfast
Of toast, black coffee and health pills.
He cleaned his teeth thoroughly,
Put some more cologne on,
And then went to do
His isometrics.
His name was Titus Hardin,
And he had the biggest
Wardrobe in London.
He was born in London in 1940.
He went to Eton and Oxford,
Had taught at Oxford for eight years
But was sacked.
He had been an Oxford Rowing Blue,
And got a degree in English, Art and History.
His father was Lord Alfred Hardin, M.P.
Titus loved teaching,
And not many people know the reason
For his dismissal at the age of thirty one.
He was nearly expelled from Eton
For smoking, drinking,
And being head of a secret society
With secret oaths, but he was
Too promising a sportsman,
And all the boys respected him
As a prefect.
He was a fair-haired man
And very good-looking.
He was thirty two years old
And a bachelor,
And lived near Richmond, Surrey.
His flat was beautifully furnished.
His name was Titus Hardin,
And he had the biggest wardrobe in London.
(This jackadandy's original title was "An Essay Written by a Guy Who Was Too Lazy to Finish It", and it dates from my mid-teens.)
Categories:
richmond, clothes, england, fashion, london,
Form:
Free verse
In better times, Anders Throne once was
a good husband and loving father,
married to his sweetheart, Rosie Smith,
who’d grown on the Chesapeake waters.
He worked as a lawyer, was well renowned,
had a little boy by the name Chester,
if fate were just he would’ve lived out his days
and saw his happiness never perturbed.
But when the war with the north broke out
to his country he was compelled to stay true,
he said good-bye and stole away north,
marching to war with the boys in blue.
His father-in-law said "Good riddance!"
and moved his precious daughter away,
to a big mansion deep in Richmond,
where he felt she could safely stay.
The war dragged on, and in the end
Richmond found itself under siege,
all in the city knew things were rough,
that there was no real hope of relief.
Day after day the big guns did roar on,
a crashing hail of fire and shell,
until one April day when the Union struck
and the town of Petersburg fell.
Unable to hold Richmond any longer
General Lee led his army to the west,
but Anders, arched into the fallen town,
hoping somehow to find his dearest.
But cannons and not the most precise of things,
and when he reached her father’s home,
he saw cinders scattered, shards of broken glass,
from the hallway ceiling’s grand old dome.
He found an old slave who explain it all,
that whoever had been inside no was dead,
a cannon-ball had ignited a great blaze,
and they died of the smoke in their beds.
Anders collapsed when he heard the news,
and roared out his agony and pain.
He railed at God,”I fought to free people!
And as thanks you go take her away?!”
Bereft of his son and his dearest love,
he walked away right then and there,
deserted the army and wandered off,
if they hanged him he did not care.
He aimlessly started heading for the west,
and as he walked along he wound find
the ‘truth’ of it all, so clear and so crisp,
took over his grief-battered mind.
God cared not for the trials of men,
nor the world that he had once made.
The beasts had it right, take what you can!
Destroy any who gets in the way.
The only rules that mattered were anarchy,
laws of the jungle, ever cold and cruel.
He was done pretending that there was a point,
manners and honor were lies for the fools…
CONTINUES IN PART II
Categories:
richmond, anger, character, faith, hurt,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Exploding Airbags
There you have it, another car user death reported in an accident..
Somewhere in Houston , Detroit a 17 Year old is the latest statistic...
As in any day, while being on the road, we risk getting into an accident..
As luck would have it, most of us survive to live and tell, to relive the incident....
With the latest technological advances in vehicular safety incorporated in cars..
We all spare nary a second thought on the issue of exploding airbags in cars...
But this latest accident, what a scary piece of news for the unwary driver...
The car being driven, it could have been fitted with faulty air inflators...
There has been a massive recall on affected cars the world all over....
Is that nice family car you are driving one of these affected car models...
In this latest accident, this unlucky Richmond girl rear ended another car...
Nothing to it, it was just a minor accident, another mishap involving cars...
In the words of the investigating police officer, most people safely walk away..
But in this unfortunate case, the sudden jolt triggered the airbag inflators...
Safe to imagine, the exploding force blasted to smithereens metal canisters...
Imagine the split second moment of flying metal shards and shrapnels all over..
What an unimaginable deathtrap in the fine cosy interior of a nice family car...
If one is unlucky, one will not live to tell the tale of walking away unscathed..
So here it is, a little info on this unintentional death that endangers all drivers...
Each time we get into our nice family cars, are they safe enough, do you wonder?
http://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2016/05/05/honda-two-more-takata-linked-airbag-deaths-in-malaysia/
http://finance.yahoo.com/news/honda-reports-10th-us-death-192952748.html
http://finance.yahoo.com/news/11-people-died-due-exploding-200801611.
http://www.safercar.gov/rs/takata/takatalist.html
http://www.safercar.gov/
Categories:
richmond, anxiety, car, community, education,
Form:
Free verse
Machiavellian schemes besmirch a murky mangrove calm
A propeller breaks the tranquil glass over an underwater farm
Neath the broken still, a peaceful giant stirs with alarm
and no consolation is found as noise churns it's quiet charm
The serene spots need to be augmented for they are our balm
Ecosystems need protection from greedy developers’ harm
Empyrean Earth for all, is in our active palms, giving alms…
(5/12/21: Custom ketch; KKMI Richmond)
Categories:
richmond, angst,
Form:
Monorhyme
Homeless On One Stormy Night
In the winter of 1984, I accepted a pastoral position in San Francisco.
The salary was not sufficient to live in the City by The Bay. So I found it necessary to obtain a second job. This relationship worked
well for two years. In the late spring of 1986, the church decided to
go in a different direction.
Losing a substantial part of my income meant that my family could
no longer live in San Francisco. So I kept my second job and moved my
family to Sacramento. We only had one car which meant that a daily
commute was not an option, not to mention the cost of such a venture.
I found a room with a dear friend and spent three nights a week with him.
I was home four nights a week.
After many months, my friend's brother needed a place to stay; so I thanked
my friend for his generosity and moved out of his home and into another friend's 50-foot boat. In a real sense, I was houseless but not boatless. I was alone
on a boat docked at Point Richmond across the Bay from my job. Here, I spent
the winter 0f 1988/'89. It was a short stay, but the memories are enduring.
There was no music, but I certainly experienced one rock and roll stormy night.
By early morning and my time to go to work, it was still dark and the power was out. I was afraid to walk along the dark walkway for fear of being blown into the water. So I exited the boat and crawled across the walkway, making sure to dodge all the fallen electric wires. Thank God I survived and went to work.
My homeless experience was much longer than these few lines. My lessons
of life learned about storms, about God's grace, and about friendships are
enduring. Yes. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
10252016 PS Contest, Being Homeless, The Seeker
Categories:
richmond, adventure, august, faith, friendship,
Form:
Narrative
'Twas Irish blood that filled his veins,
this wretched man in iron chains;
A gnawing hunger deep within
had forced his hand to steal.
The man in wig, a magistrate,
then sealed the poor man's im'nent fate,
He'd serve a term in New South Wales,
no chance to make appeal.
First Limerick, then County Cork
in cells devoid of friendly talk,
He could not bear the solitude,
it tore his soul apart.
Then came a morn one dreadful day,
they led the broken man away,
His native land he'd see no more,
all hope drained from his heart.
Those months at sea were really tough,
his frame had simply borne enough.
He only wished his soul to die,
to find true peace at last.
His spirit struggled though to live,
for surely life had more to give.
Perhaps this land of servitude
would heal all errors past.
Assigned to serve 'round Richmond town,
he kept the count as years went down.
Certificate of freedom earned
he cried with tears of joy.
A lass then came into his life,
he made that girl his darling wife.
She bore him children of his own,
the eldest was a boy.
Those early years though took their toll,
she buried him atop the knoll, But knowing that he had a son,
roots of a fam'ly tree.
He'd carry her poor husband's dream,
through generations it would seem.
Til here today I stand quite proud,
for I've his blood in me.
Categories:
richmond, history, life,
Form:
Narrative
The Day After Christmas
1811
Richmond Theater...Fire!
Last act pantomime
©deborah burch
12.26.16
___________________________
Senyru
My inspiration:
Google: "Richmond Theater Fire Richmond Virginia 1811"
Many references online: even Wikipedia!!
On 12.26.1811, the Richmond Theater Fire, became known as the "worst disaster in American history" (at that time); "598 people":
'518 adults/80 children'...72 lost and several heroes emerged. The stage curtain hid more than props from the audience that night...
If you like history... check it out on google.
Categories:
richmond, fire, history, holiday,
Form:
Senryu
It’s been a few months now
Since you don’t greet me at the door
Sleep on the couch next to me
Still find your hairs in the couch
Your crate is still in the laundry room
Empty
It’s quiet now
We all said goodbye
I drove to Richmond to bring one of your boys home
We dug a hole in the backyard
Said a prayer together
I asked, “When you make the world right will you give me back my dog?”
Then we put you in a box
In your new bed
favorite toy
And favorite blanket
Sherri wrote you a sealed letter
“From Mommy”
We all feel your unwritten absence
Categories:
richmond, animal, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse