Best William Poems
I recognized you in an old photo
taken long before I knew you
You were among the ancient ones
The ones on whom you depended
You were brother, son, nephew
and cherished grandchild
I recognized you by your quiet demeanour
gazing with those watchful gentle eyes
I have witnessed that look many times
I am sorry I have not asked you more questions
Too often I am too busy to make time
Please tell me stories about the ancient ones
the ones who laid your foundation
Tell me about your happy and your sad.
What did you dream about for your future?
Have your expectations been met?
What is your greatest joy?
Two photos, one of you, one of mom
a handsome man and pretty girl
Were they taken before you were one?
Your family knew you both so well
They gifted you a lifetime
they knew you would endure
Together you have traveled far
You have accomplished so much
Another photo of your VW Bug
The six of you with that seventies vibe
you were all accustomed to close spaces
You and mom were courageous adventurers
You moved to this strange new world
This big empty city with ghost-like streets
white unfamiliar faces
I can’t imagine how scary it must have been
the sound of voices you could not understand
In a country that was not always welcoming
How did you survive your lonely?
Hours and days working away from home
You persevered, knowing what was important
Family has always been your priority
You were not seduced by the unimportant things
You are a good man William
Slow to anger, gentle of spirit
You see with kind eyes
I appreciate your smile
I appreciate being part of your picture
Your gifts have been passed to your children
your children’s children and their children
Your ripples have traveled far
There is another picture of us
We are standing on a staircase
Your children their spouses
and with children of their own
Without your breath
none of this would be possible
You and mom together
are the heartbeat of our family
Your Ninety years have been well lived
Thanks for blessing us all
Thanks for being a good and faithful man
Happy 90th Birthday Dad
You are greatly loved!
By Richard Lamoureux
Dedicated to my wife's dad for his 90th Birthday.
Birth begins the tragedy in us. Life's
First sound is a blank scream
Against sorrow's hidden portends of strifes
All we know are mirages and dream.
Mother took the news staring at the sky
She must have cried inside
For I have no evidence else. There's no why
For it ... how my rage defied
Her callous front ... he was her first boy
The only hero she spoke well
Of, his name was the formula for joy
In our house: anecdotes tell
Of his escapades ... youth defying fate
He had a cat's tenacity for life
And from evil wills found a golden gate
Of scholarship and exotic wife.
I remember when the years pulled him back
All he came with was a bag
Of books, and a couple suits in novel sack
His eyes time warped, a lag
Of missing years and loneliness enfolding him
But he was handsome still
And my soul cartwheeled at joy's fresh brim
Those moments that he filled
When eyes first contact spelled pride to claim
This aristocrat like a medal
I could wear. So young he was, her true flame
The son of love's sweet recital!
And many days sitting in his shadow, I heard
Him dream big things like stars
Far away, warm things like a fluttering bird
Things made bright to cover scars
In the sore of memory. His mind was his cliff
A risky place in the high winds
And closer to the edge for the Grail he'd drift
O how the giddy world spins!
He died in Kingston: William came and went
And my mother looked at the sky
But until she died, about his memory was silent
And I forever wonder why.
I loved him, you know, he was the first best thing
A poor child had to claim or show
The world ... with him I was no more common. A king
He made me in his gold of glow
Something that I looked forward to meet in me. I,
Like mother, been silence since
But sometimes my heart just heave and would cry
For time this love cannot rinse
And I that moment cannot comprehend, that death
Gave no notice to his lauded day
And like common dust on a wild wind's balmy breath
My brother was swiftly swept away.
To a sapling, the truth is its own root system. Unseen, it delves into the darkness of the earth, not to impress the wildflowers or imitate the towering oaks, but to find its own necessary water and anchoring stones.
It does not worry if its roots twist in an unusual direction, or if a neighboring pine grows taller faster. It only knows its own need for depth, for the truth of the soil beneath it.
For this, above all: To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day; Thou canst not then be false to any man.
So it is that the young tree, in its steadfast authenticity, finds its voice. The unfurling of its own unique leaves and the branching of its limbs become a blueprint of its inner resolve.
It draws nourishment from the darkness, and in doing so, reaches for the light. As its trunk strengthens and its canopy spreads, it does not have to consciously decide to offer shade to the weary traveler or shelter to the nesting bird. Its generosity is the inevitable influence of its own secure growth.
For how could a tree, true to its own deepest needs, produce a withered branch? How could it, when anchored so profoundly in its own being, not provide for the life around it?
The shade it casts is an effortless gift, the fruit it bears a natural bounty. The tree does not fake a thicker bark or pretend to bear different fruit; it simply is. And in its quiet, undeniable existence, it nourishes the forest, making the very ground around it richer and more whole.
Its integrity is a silent echo in the wilderness, and all who pass beneath its leaves are better for it.
~~~Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite~~~
An all round performer was Mr William Kite
He trained and rode horses, but also walked the rope tight
He worked for Pablo Fanqué the Wells Circus owner in 1842
But his work gave inspiration for John Lennon to do.
Mr William Kite would never have dreamed.
That his skills as a performer would inspire a song theme
As he performed on his head, while balancing on a rope
A trumpet in his mouth, and he played a damn fine note.
When he was with John Sanger, who was equestrian minded
William appeared for a spectacular night, the poster has reminded
The celebrated horse called Zanthus was even there
With Mr William Kite to perform - boy what a pair
This poster impressed John Lennon so...
It inspired him to write about William and the show
Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite, the poster does show
Inspired quite a few lyrics as all Beatles fans will know.
What they may not know - but I am impressed
There is a man called David with whom I am blessed
He is the great great grandson of William by whom Lennon was inspired
But better than that David is my half brother it has so transpired.
The Beatles Album Cover is "Sergeant Peppers Lonely Heartclub" which potrays the poster of Mr Kite
The quintessential of nyctophilia, wrapped in bridal attire, slowly and slowly as in somnambulism there goes the heroine of timeless tragedy to supersede her lovers feigned insanity.
Her beloved father is no more, being killed by her suitor's intrigued tyranny;
ignored to be drowned, to burn in the flame of plotted felony.
Jilted, to be startled by the selcouth performance of her handsome wooer's vile strategy;
there goes the most beautiful heroine ever to be the victim of fated irony,
immersed in senseless lunacy, to vanish from the sight of Hamlet's fatalistic eyes to bid adieu to the agony,
slowly and slowly to be disappeared into melancholic darkness from the dazzling maniac opaque sight;
there goes the Danish heroine of evergreen tragedy.
William Henry Gates
Never lifted weights
He spent his time in the loft
inventing a thing called Microsoft
5/28/15
In order to understand , you should go to the poem "William part 1 "
Your back ..I thank you ! I know many disagree with the love one may choose to have with same sex , I ask you this time ..try and see past .
I lost contact with William for a long time .
Once going to the blues fest amongst hundreds in Line, for the porta potty
The sign said "vacant " I opened the door , It was William who thankfully was dressed !
We Laughed and had fun , something different though he had become .
He told me he fell in love with a Man , he said the man was Hiv positive and so was he . They used no Protection in Intimacy. What William did not understand , the man he loved dearly, had full blown Aids , William died soon , as he contracted a higher grade of the Virus . He died within one year .
I did not know of Williams demise, Until My Brother showed up with a friend at my door .
My Brother asked if they could come in , The friend he had with him lost his Brother .
It did not take long when I poured him a drink , he talked about William his Brother , that is when I began to think.
That was when I knew ..The Brother that he spoke of whom died so suddenly , was William .
With a wish to his Brother , please if it's the last thing you do , Find my friend, "the Platinum Blonde " tell her , I will always love her, he in death , had forgotten my name , it was the love he remembered ..the love stayed the same .
The man said he looked for many months and gave up , distraught he could not find This friend ,as he promised his brother on his death bed.
My Face turned white , as I saw the resemblance ..I put the two together .
It was a message Heaven sent . He too then realized , The Angel of William sent him right to the door of my home that cold , rainy , night.
This is for My beautiful friend , Never have I met one like you, with so much Life .
I miss him and to this day he will not be forgotten . I love you too .
always , your Platinum Blonde .
I shalt ne'er be a famous bard such as William Shakespeare.
From mine pathetic poetical quill he hath naught to fear!
Mine immoral mot, "Where'er thou mayest be let thine water flow free",
I fear shalt ne'er compare to Bill's immortal line, "To be or not to be!"
"He hath eaten me out of house and home!" could be said of mine cat!
(Why could not I have conceived that line - all I can say is drat!)
"A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!" cried Richard The Third!
(If I had said that, people would have deemed me quite absurd!)
"Brevity is the soul of wit!" and thus "This is the short and long of it!"
Alas, I shan't match wits with Willie so while I'm ahead I'd better quit!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I am garnet Aphrodite,
vampire rose ~
the huntress of halcyon
wrestling with love and limerence
bleeding for the soul and spirit
of smoke-kissed sepals
stretching towards the sky
drawing you in delicate dreams
lost in luscious light
while these lips tremble
to taste the tight temperance
of true temptation…
and in the ache of aloneness
I still am fluent in
the dialect of devotion
the sacred symphony
to serenade a shield-maiden saga
choosing inner battles
for I belong where
the balm of burning balance
blooms to the sound
of thriving thorns
and murmuring myrtles...
I am not unstitched by silence
but tested by the trials
of wild-woven withdrawal ~
a sun-soaked sapphire
aligning the anguish
swirling through surging spells
connecting scattered
cosmic brushstrokes
to beautifully drape destiny
in pulsing pixels
pigmented with Seijaku...
I place my fingers
along the charismatic chest
of soft fuchsia walls,
tracing the tints of tremors
climbing as addictive vines
amidst cold crevices
to reach my skin
sighing to be within the
palms of patient passion
I will remain warmed
in the kaftan kismet
of a longing laced
in cobalt peacock promises
beaded with golden amulets
carved with cursive cravings
we are the wishful flares ~
the world cannot fathom.
but in the starvation
of collided touch
we do not phase ~
we fearlessly swell
into the deathless space of faith
where the spring breeze
phrases our
initials in sunset mauve...
O fragrant field to my mind,
paint me within the
stirring sentiments of your spine...
I own your signature ~
starry-silver strength
braiding my henna-hued hair
into a universal bun
of beloved blissfulness…
I unchain the caged darkness
to surrender willingly,
taste the warm, wet drips
of liquefied lament and life
tracing the cold cracks
within bruised veins
kissing patiently the searing surge
of anxiety caging and clawing
the pulse of pain-struck peace
the flesh beneath
the fragility of hope ~
purging the siren’s poison
of Beelzebub’s breath
love-drunk on dangerous desire
christening the mayhem devotion
carving temples from tempests
as the needles wake me to
a reality romanticized with nails ~
O reaper ... my beloved knight
aching to seize my light
fool me once more
seduce the stars
without a script
lure the lake of night
stripped of pretense
for I am your eternal flame
this heart, a mausoleum of
cremated calmness
and skeptical skeletons
a panoramic capture
of insanity unforgiven…
listen as the clouds spill
a thousand secrets
follow the shadow
of me and my truth
watch my skies abandon
the beautiful lies
I once worshipped ~
as I am now one amongst
the survivors of hearts I broke
while trying not to break,
the ruthless rhythm
of the game of musical chairs;
only the ones
who ran could chase ~
a memory condemned
as the cardinal sin ~
an alluring curse
damned with
Lilith’s signature, evermore…
The 'Bard of Avon'- William Shakespeare
Never held in his hand a spear,
But with a sharp and powerful quill,
Killed kings and princesses, summoning their ghosts at will.
Billy the kid kept roving around,
A campfire here, a cowhand there,
He traveled alone through country & town,
Always headed somewhere,
One certain day he rode into town,
His forty-five strapped on his side,
Just to stop and drink one round,
Then continue on with his ride,
He hitched his horse and went in thru,
The front tavern bat-wing doors,
He didn't see anyone he knew,
Just a couple cowboys and some _hores,
He moseyed on up, ordered a drink,
Sarsaparilla I'll have here for me!
Down the hatch, smooth as a wink,
Then he was given another for free,
He thanked the man kindly, turned around,
To leave thru the bat-winged door,
A cowboy stood up and stared Billy down,
Lookin' for trouble and more!
[Cowboy]: "Hey boy! let me teach ya how ta shoot!
Come"ere gimmee that there gun!"
"If'n ya don't I'm gonna plant this 'ere boot!
I'll show ya how the real West is run!"
[Billy]: "Mister, I'm not here ta play!"
"I've dealt with yer kind before,
"So please kindly step outa my way,
And be thankful ya don't see me no more."
[Cowboy]: "Boy! yer messin' with Danger Dan...man!"
"And yer jawin's 'bout ta seal yer fate!"
[Billy]: "Mister, yer soon to be Dan the damned man!"
"If yer gun ain't shootin' fast 'n' straight!"
"Like a rattlesnake springin' from the devils hand!"
"Billys gun cleared his holster that fast!"
"Billy's bullet knocked the gun out of Danger Dan's hand!"
"In a single straight shot blast!"
[Cowboy]: "Uh-h-h! I ain't ever seen a gun so fast!
As the one ya shot sure coulda killed me!"
"Should ya pardon my trouble, may I ask...
What is yer name....really?"
[Billy]: "Mister, it's how ya live, not how fast the gun,"
"that makes a man a man,"
"Most my life's been on the run,
Killin's no future or plan!"
"I'm stranger to most, still livin' the past,
Feelin' bad ta what I did,
"Some crossed my path, ain't here ta boast,
I'm Billy The Kid!"
William Harrison Hardy
1823 - 1906
I believe a fair introduction is in order here.
Not that a handshake from me could ever take place anytime soon.
I was Captain Bill Hardy:
Proud Indian fighter!
And celebrated toll road builder!
I was the one who built the big road
From San Bernardino to Prescott Arizona!
And it was I, Captain Bill Hardy,
Who founded old Hardyville in Arizona
On the sandy banks of the cool Colorado.
Back when Lincoln was still warm
And the blood of Gettysburg was still not dry.
Back when the old west was coming alive
With wagon wheels and railroad ties.
Growing as a child would
With intrepid enterprise and such derring-do
The likes of which few eyes have seen since!
I came out west from New York
As Captain of a California-bound wagon train
And found a fortune in gold in Placer County.
But it was in the Arizona Territory where I later
Made my mark, and lost my fortune.
Oh my friends. I found out.
Found out what plain hard work can accomplish
And I learned of its resultant riches.
I found out.
Found out what plain greed and dishonesty can accomplish
And I learned of its resultant poverty.
Alas, I was but a survivor in life,
And that was my final legacy.
My friends, have you ever stared death straight in the face?
Have you ever seen the eyes of a wanton murderer
Only an inch away from your own eyes?
Nothing is more frightening and more sobering than that!
But I, Captain Bill Hardy, at your service please,
Experienced it first-hand that day in the scalding desert sand.
That Indian devil was right there!
His nose next to my nose!
But I got away!
Ran away from that place and lived to tell about it!
My friends, next time you come to Clark Cemetery in Whittier,
Go to the eastern fence by Dorland Street,
At the corner there, you will find my little plot of land.
It is a far cry from having an entire city named after you!
But it is a fine and restful spot.
Come closer and lean down to me.
I wish to extend my firm handshake to you all!
~Captain William Kidd~
(Narrative )
Once a long time ago there was a great Scottish pirate
And his name was Captain William Kidd,
Legend has it that he was fearless and he couldn't wait
To get his hands full in all the loot, somewhere he's hid.
King William of England praised him the highest, first-rate
And said "My dear Captain Kidd, he's the best and he's so great"
Of course he did everything the King told him to do and it was agreed
And gave him more honors and ships, for piracy to lead.
History and legend portrays him often as bloody and ruthless,
But I think that maybe that wasn't all true
Of course he sank many ships and their loots he did seize;
And many of his foes finally with his sword he also slew.
Captain Kidd! Captain Kidd!
Where are all the charts that you drew, and all the loot that you've stole?
Captain Kidd! Captain Kidd!
You'd sailed away so many times, in victory with all that gold.
Captain Kidd! Captain Kidd!
You're in big trouble, where's that treasured Island that you drew?
Captain Kidd! Captain Kidd!
Your crew sailed without you and that made you so blue.
Captain Kidd! Captain Kidd!
Sail Away! Sail Away! Sail Away!
Before they come back, and do away with your head, Captain Kidd
Sail away! Sail Away! make it quick, just sail away.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2001-2005
January.03.2016
Author's notes:
Captain William Kidd (c. 22 January 1645 – 23 May 1701)
He was a Scottish sailor who was tried and executed for piracy.
When I first read the title of his poem I immediately thought of all the new things I learned last week:
How important words in a brief letter
can have an impact on
another's decision and can affect your life.
How words that are spoken soft and carefully
can change each and
every life around you,
even some you may be unaware of.
That prenatal care is
highly important.
Just how far you can splash mud
across a truck.
How fun it is to let loose, sit in the middle
and make his day just by letting him
drive my ol' Chevy
And that an infant car seat is
not going to fit in it very well
this Fall.
Most of I learned that
young children are honest,
and if one four year old knows
you are going to have a baby,
the entire world will too.