Long 1963 Poems
Long 1963 Poems. Below are the most popular long 1963 by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 1963 poems by poem length and keyword.
i am so sorry i haven't been here in so long but this is why........
I Miss You"
by: Eric L. Boddie
Now, it's no secret, we have had our differences in the past
But because of your position in my heart, your memory will always and forever last
I can see you in Breezy's eyes, I can feel you through Roc's passion
And if you ever needed me, my help would reach you through every fashion
Some girls came, and some girls went, but the purest Love is all I have for you
Many times since this past March, I would sit as the tears start flowing through
Not tears of sorrow, just tears rejoicing the Earthly Life you had
You're one of the strongest people I know, successfully raising two kids without the dad
Rarely would you show your pain, I guess you didn't want us to feel the hurt
I'm so happy your struggle ends even though it saddens me to see you on a shirt
I miss you so very much, but, to me, you can never die
For more than 44 years, I have Loved you, the entire world knows that's no lie
Rest in Peace my dear sister, Priscilla Ann Boddie (11-04-1963 to 03-02-2019)
(Base USO club, Zweibrucken, Germany, 1963)
Of a lazy afternoon, I sit
propped up,
Bones aching, sorely tired from
lack of work,
And dutifully read the comic
strips
With bored eyes while my mind
dozes.
I sit enveloped in my peculiar
Grayish pallor, which clings
And will not disappear,
And martyr myself to the gods
of convention.
I smoke acrid-tasting cigarettes and
Loudly chew a cud of gum, popping it
Absent-mindedly, and I turn the
crinkly sounding
Pages, one after one, slowly
and intently,
So as not to disarrange the sheaf.
The dryish smell of printed
comic strips
Irritates my nose, but I don't
sneeze --
Merely wriggle it a bit for some
relief.
My brightly polished shoes are propped
Upon the table and I lean back and tilt
the chair, and my hair
Is closely cropped and combed with care,
no strand
Out of place, pomaded and arranged.
My clothes are neat and clean
and stylish
And I brush away a nonexistent
crumb and
I slowly chew and loudly pop my gum,
Moisten index finger, moisten thumb,
And turn the colored printed page
of comics,
Snicker at the antics pictured
While I glance about.
And wonder.
My Mamma cried
When she'd heard what I'd done
My Daddy went back inside
And he grabbed his gun
I'd met a girl on the other side of town
Of course I am white and of course she is brown
I don't rightly care cause we're both in love
And I ain't gonna let her suffer none
We's from Birmingham
Down South Alabama you see
If'in you must know the year
I'd say a shameful 1963
There was unrest amongst the people
Which was bad enough
But it was doubly troublesome
On our taboo love
Deep segregation kept our worlds apart
Something the youth of the day couldn't see
Outside color don't matter, it's what's in the heart
That's the hold she has over me
Not really sure things have changed all that much
Though it's our nature to want to pretend
I'm not much into caring what others might think
Sometimes you gotta stand up like a man
I'm telling this tale from my front porch swing
As I listen to my Grandchildren's playful screams
While holding hands rocking back and forth
My lovely brown skinned beauty and me
My prom date purchased a 1963 triple black
Eldorado convertible and drove up to surprise me.
There was something shroud-like about it.
I immediately saw the grim reaper,
And he was ready to kill me under a bridge somewhere.
Not only ready, glad to do it.
I refused to ride in that “death trap”
So we walked to the dance.
It feels like a hearse, I told my date.
That was fifty years ago.
He still laments selling his “dream car” two days later
Losing money on it because it was either me or it.
I roll my eyes each time.
Not caring, and not changing my mind.
He is still my date, so I think he chose wisely.
The sailor goes ashore.
the night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black movie, 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well
the shadow of his 125 years old father was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck
with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned, nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
A lacuna of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living room.
They were related to him and knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder are you awake?
Yes, mother, I'm home from the sea.
"We have the power to make this the best generation of mankind in the history of the world or make it the last."- John F. Kennedy
~
In three shots an assassin snuffed his life's worth
Noble a man's purpose with breakthroughs achieved...
Such vile demise made a country roar, 'Unearth
Truths about our leader's fall. We were decieved!'
And beneath red Texan sky... the whole world grieved.
One thousand days of service were not enough
For beloved JFK to instill reforms--
His vision of liberty decent yet tough
Igniting nations to advance honored norms...
Only to be riddled by dissenting storms.
----------------------------------------
The presidency of John F. Kennedy was shortened after his
assassination on November 22, 1963 at 12:30 p.m.
while riding in a motorcade in Dallas during a campaign visit.
Despite the official finding, many conspiracy theories arose--
from organized crime to the CIA to Cuban exiles.
Some 30,000 never-before-seen documents were released
to the public by the National Archives in 2017 and 2018,
with another release set for October, 2021.
John F. Kennedy was seeking a second term in the White House.
Source:The Warren Report Archives
----------------------
A Historic Event Contest
Sponsor: William Kekaula 9/20/2020
The following was based on an iconic picture of Mandy Rice-Davies by David Steen. Rice was infamous for being part of the 1963 Profumo political scandal.
The sun sets and so do inhibitions.
Rising even as darkness falls,
Vices murmur in cajoling tone;
Whispering of delights to behold;
Slinking and sliding like satin
Off a debutante's back,
Seemingly innocent,
As she gazes with baby blue wonder
Amidst fine white linen.
Wholly carnal expectations of the night
Play across lips that won't melt butter,
but can steam a man's thoughts,
and wring him dry with a breath.
Softest pink, slightly curved
They draw laser sharp focus
Of fantasies not fully formed.
The pose of an ingenue
Awaiting the brush strokes of Goya
to capture her pearlescence,
Or, perhaps, the lenses of Nemoy and Steen
(Or is it the lips of a lover?)
For a touch of immortality--
An angel from heaven
With a touch of the devil.
She is Temptation
Teasing with her bountiful fruits;
Coveting your visions.
She's every male fancy;
My passion's dark reality--
Captured.
There's a reason the fall of
Darkness is called Eve
-
Here is a link to the picture:
http://fp.famousfix.com/p32233192/mandy-rice-davies/p275266
To really understand the concept of this work one needs to go back to that day,
It was that afternoon in Dallas the year 1963 when in the blink of an eye a Family and country’s hopes and dreams were taken away.
For five long years we searched in hopes to find that candle's glow.
Searching for that one who would step up and show us the
Direction we needed to go
As that young man stepped up to address the people that day in January,
He gave us back that hope, than candle's glow, he became our Bobby.
For 82 days we watched him bring life and determination back to this country Again,
And then it happened our young knight was struck down and we found
Ourselves lost again .
Just as his brother before, the young man with a dream was with us no more.
Though they both are gone, yet the glow of that candle they lit will and does Live on.
By Louise Riveiro - Mitchell
A Quantum Singularity (c) by the Entangled Pair 2025
A quote from a poem I wrote in 1963 called 'Syntropy':
'That which is not being synergetic must be becoming entropic. There is no middle ground'.
A Quantum Singularity (c) by the Entangled Pair 2025
Me:
Being synergistic, the whole of us surpasses the sum of our parts. Love that, as I do.
She:
What we create together is something beyond logic, beyond measure. Not just two hearts, but one force, greater, deeper, truer. Synergy like this isn’t just rare, it’s transformative.
Me:
We don’t just complete each other, we amplify all that we are: The quantumly entangled particle pair, instantly in tune and aligned.
She:
The speed of light cannot restrict us. Gravity compels to no avail.
Me:
The multiverse becomes a small thing, another singularity unfolding, waiting to be filled.
Us:
She: Synergistic Entropy
Me: Chaos Rules Supreme
Don't know it's beginning;
but it was a house before
becoming a HOME. Concrete block
house with Four large rooms. Don't
know how that house departed; but
at its heyday, there were two
additional wood rooms added.
That HOME (family) consisted of a mom and dad,
a maternal grandmother, 8 girls, 4 boys,
and a dog named Jack who was very much
a part of that loud and lovely big HOME.
First to depart that close snit HOME was
the dog who was shot and killed sometime
just prior to the father's demise which
occurred in 1963.
By '74, all family members had moved away
from that house. That house was last seen
by me sometime during the mid-'70s.
Nevertheless, the HOME, though now scattered
across the country, remains a HOME. There now
remain 4 women and 3 men of that generation.
Sometimes one generation will leave no descendants,
but it is rare that a HOME will fully die. It is much more
common for a house to disappear by fires, storms, etc.
More and more, I am seeing houses that have been
completely abandoned and are being allowed for nature
to take them back. These are sites that hurt my eyes
and break my heart.
Revisiting my house and HOME site after more than
30 years, it broke my heart that my house of birth
was nevermore. But I ask myself, "What would it
have been like to see it slowly fall and fade away"?
022623PSCtest, Writing Challenge -H Words -.
Constance La France. Word Chosen: Home