John told me, a few weeks ago,
About this place,
A land far away from any and all,
Somewhere problems don’t exist,
And everyone stays happy.
I asked how to get there,
My eyes colored in starlit blues and painted hues,
He told me simply,
“You ride a bus there.”
I asked where it went,
“It's a bus to nowhere.”
“To Nowhere?” I asked,
“To nowhere.” He responded.
“Its a place near and far.”
“A place where no one knows who you are.”
“A place where you can be content with just living.”
“A land of civil rest.”
I repeated to myself,
“Nowhere..”
He told me so succinctly.
So effortlessly.
I thought it was real.
Then in my older years I realized,
There was no sunshine in John's eyes.
As I really realized.
The bus truly went
Nowhere.
Old Mr.Meow says,
"It's story time now!
Come children and listen to me."
They gather around
And he set his tea down...
"Where shall I begin, let me see...
There once was a girl
As small as a pearl
And so she was named by her Dad.
Unable to find
A husband in kind
Her father gave all that he had.
So he send word
To King Eggward
Hoping for a reply.
Although the King
Was crack-brained he
Was also a very sweet guy.
King Eggward knew
Who for the girl would do
For his nephew was orange but small.
He sent word back
For the family to pack
For a long trip in the Fall.
To a land far away
Called The Orchard so they
Could find the Apple house there.
Where his nephew the wee
Lived a life full and free
And the couple would make a great ‘pear.’
When they arrived
To find this little orange guy
a terrible tragedy befell!
In the field where they went
Just where the King sent,
Found Only applesauce full of eggshell!
Quote by: Michael Bassey Johnson
“Beyond the veil lies what our eyes cannot see,
skin cannot feel and consciousness cannot absorb.”
A parting thought in the middle of ordinary time
flesh wants to stay but the heart wants to soar
inside a broken temple the intervals of misery persist
and so she flies on, into a world untouchable as dawn;
She is a castaway in a land far away
a daydreamer disentangled from the rip tide of reality
a torn vessel gliding through a shroud, most High.
Forty cubits long and twenty cubits wide
she fits in the palm of His hand, like a small Jesus.
It takes three hundred Sacred Angels
to appease her ear-shattering cries
Each time she flies here to this place,
her wistful sadness disappears.
This is a place where all good girls go to die
where the agatat sound of a tearing veil
and the arcanum whisper of God prevails,
A place where a child is heard and paried in love.
Long long ago in a land far away
Was this slave girl named Gedophamee
Worked as a prostitute to earn some dough
Name was pronounced “Get-offa-me!”
At an athletic festival in Roman times
Male athletes performed in the buff
Preventing arousal while they competed
They imbibed and downed other stuff
At the opening gala ceremonial parade
One lady exclaimed “Oh! Limp Dicks!”
Ever since that momentous occasion
It has morphed into the “Olympics”
IN THE LAND OF ENCHANTMENT
Once upon a time, in a land far away
There lived a world of magic and play
A fairytale for children to escape and dream
Where the impossible was more than it seemed
Enchanted forests full of fairy lights
Flying carpets, unicorns and dragon flights
Wizards casting spells with a flick of their wand
Mermaids swimming in the depths of the pond
There were princes and princesses, brave and true
Fighting dragons and monsters, even a witch or two
The heroes and heroines all had a quest
To save their kingdoms and prove themselves the best
Friendship, love, and kindness ruled the realm
A world of wonder, where anything was at the helm
A place of hope, where dreams could be found
Where courage and imagination knew no bound
In this fairytale for children, there was always a happy end
Where good always triumphed, and evil would bend
A world of magic, where anything was possible
A place to cherish, a land to inspire and marvel.
Write a Sweet Fairytale For Children with a Good Outcome Ending, ie Nobody gets hurt :) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
I see the destruction
Flashing flames on the TV screen
It’s 2003 a time marked in history
A fiery storm rains on a city—Bagdad
Buildings aflamed that make a fiery grave
No discretion implementing
A war based on lies
Human lives sacrificed and
Young men maimed in their bravery
For what?
Desert mother
I hear your cries in the night
Tears flow from your eyes turning into crystal beads
As they fall at your feet
Prayer beads roll on your numb fingers
Quivering lips voice
Prayerful sounds for sons of the desert
Fighting to fulfill an unknown prophecy
Brave hearts fighting in valor to defend their rights
Strong warriors
Who will die with their shoes on for a cause
They know not of.
The rest of the world sleeps as your heart is torn.
Tomorrow the thunderous roar of bombs will cease, and
A new peace will dawn when morning comes.
Desert mother
Then its time to dry your tears and mourn
And the mothers of a land far away
Where eagles fly
They too will mourn along with you
For they too have sons
Who have fallen for a cause
They know not of.
When I was a young boy
I dreamed of this land
And the freedom to go
In a future unplanned
In a world of adventure
With so much to see
There was much to explore
For a dreamer like me
And I thought of the trains
As they sped on their way
In a typical run
On a typical day
And I smiled and waved
To the men passing by
As I stood by the tracks
With a gleam in my eye
And a love for the train
That was moving along
With a big, heavy load
And a loud, happy song
But the years quickly passed
And the railroad died
And the vision I saw
Is a dream on the side
For a loud whistle blows
In a land far away
And the message it brings
Is a caution today
That a life should be led
By the vision you see
From a fast-moving train
That is wild and free.
"The summer night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree
Peace comes to them on quiet feet"
Whose hearts, like sages, so free
Balsams just like purple-dark stars
Shining as though from the floor
Glowworm-bubbles as if from Mars
Knocking the night angels door
Mingled with the breeze so charming
Moody melancholic minds
Happiness-filled and hearts warming
Singing litanies of saints
Beggars, refugees, and dogs stray
Seem to sleep so peacefully
Somewhere in some land far away
Lullabies heard leisurely
01 June 2021
Choose Your Form 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
A long time ago in a land far away
Lived a shy young fellow, quite awkward they say
So shy with the fillies
He pretended his willy
Had influenza and couldn't come out to play
A long time ago in a land far away
Lived a shy young fellow, quite awkward they say
So shy with the fillies
He pretended his willy
Had influenza and couldn't come out to play
A repost
Windrush
The windrush scandal has me incensensed, the way they treat people because of their skin they wanted to deport them and take them away To countries they could well have never even been.
Britain had urged them and cried out for help then shuned and treated them like scum. They must have wondered why they had bothered to come .
As time went by their children grew older and had children to . Who got on with their lives just like brits do .Until the day when A letter came their way. Telling them they didn't belong and that they couldn't stay.
Then the police came along and took them all away to be locked up when they did no wrong and told their families to move along !
Some of them got put onto planes and flown to a land far away. They had nowhere to go and no home of their own.All they had were their possessions and a cheap mobile phone !
One wife decided enough was enough , she wouldnt loose her husband and fought against the law. The government decided that the evidence was poor and decided they could stay.The rules were changed and they were free again to live another day.
Dreams of the Nutcracker
When I am older,
I will sweep you off your feet.
I will take you from here,
2 a land far away.
Birds will sing,
and no one “unkind”
will be allowed.
There will be
pretty colored flowers,
everywhere,
there will be fish,
in the pond.
When I am older,
I will be a fireman,
and save you from the fire.
When I am older,
I will be a medic,
and heal all wounds…
When I am older I will be,
an officer,
a soldier,
an Indian Chief.
When I am older,
I will be “all” that you need.
Until then…
Dear Lord,
I am a small son,
asking for Your Glory,
Shine Bright,
on to the princess
of my life.
Until
I am older.
I LIVE IN DREAMS OF MY OWN REALITY
I DAYDREAM IN MY OWN WORLD OF FANTASY
I DREAM OF A LAND FAR AWAY BEYOND MY REALITIES
I BREATHE IN WATER BENEATH A WORLD UNKNOWN TO US
I WHISPER TO MYSELF TO HEAR THE DREAMS THAT SURROUNDS ME
I WALK ON A LAND FULL OF RED SAND THAT BURN MY FEETS BENEATH
I SWIM IN DEEP WATER TO FEEL THE SEA COOLNESS OF MISTY AIR DROPS
I DREAM OF DREAMS THAT I NEVER DREAM BEFORE
I LISTEN TO THE CRACKS IN THE WALLS THAT TELLS ME TO DREAM AGAIN
I SING AND DANCE TO DREAMS THAT DISPAIR ME IN MY DREAMS
I WANT TO DREAM AWAY
I WANT TO DAYDREAM AGAIN FAR AWAY BEYOND MY REALITY
Was he wrong to suggest
“All poetry, in a way, is about death.”
He was in such earnest
I was obsessed with that research
One may write of the loss of family:
Usually a parent, more unusually of a child
Then, too, families are lost voluntarily:
Divorce, foster homes, sibling rivalry gone wild!
Another may write of an aborted career
The miseducation of his or her youth
A “calling” may be from God, or less clear
Alas, hate and scheming, are part of this truth
Yet others may chisel out a poem, or ballad,
With haunting memories of a land far away
Of lover hung, exiled, drowned. More hallowed and sacred
Is your own love lost, shared … or unhallowed matrimony
So, there I had it, a monk weeping over lost purity
A maiden having valued not her virgin birthright
Are losses, or deaths, mediated by individuality
Even seasons gone, is a temporary death and flight
For in the grand scheme of things – I say Abba-Father
The seasons do cycle back on no man-made, circular invention
All things teach, preach, - are good, says the Creator
If love makes room for love of the Author of Resurrection!
© Anil Deo for 20170402
A long time ago in a land far away
Lived a shy young fellow, quite awkward they say
So shy with the fillies
He pretended his willy
Had influenza and couldn't come out to play
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