Long Among Poems
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1/18/17
Among so many rocks and leafs
As well as animals that squawk or squeak
Talk is cheap
Many things considered a dime a dozen
Like limes and onions
You're either with or against the clock
Whether it is continually making sense or not
At times it can all truly
Be quite the doozy
Frustrated with seeing cruelty
And people acting unruly
Along the way
Is it wrong to say?
Every dog has it's day
They can make glass from sand
So much became a flash in the pan
Whether or not there ended up being any cash in hand
With my own flesh and blood
I express my love
While I step and trudge
Through different depths of mud
Haste makes waste
Across this place in space
You may or may not have your while life ahead of you
Just remember idle hands are the devil's tools
Near and far from special sentimental jewels
Realize there have been many kinds of metals used
Near and far from different sea levels and pools
The outcome may have been preventable
If such things weren't placed on a pedestal
By: Dalton Ogletree
A wooden flute,
I glimpsed among my mother’s treasured keepsakes in childhood.
being curious, asked her once…
I didn’t notice anyone playing the flute!
Why it seemed the most precious than everything else she cherished!
Hers was the saddest smile when she told me about her brother,
who played the flute when she sang,
passing away from tuberculosis, in his twenties ..
the implacable separation from her most loved one..
the two efflorescent roses on the same branch…
one fell and perished, when it could have blossomed and
charmed the earth with its fragrance!
When my mother passed away,
she asked me to bring the flute,
couldn’t believe my eyes ..how much comfort it brought to her,
touching and caressing that musical instrument with her fragile fingers…
and her last sigh was peaceful!
September 5, 2021
"This Or That - Vol. 6 " Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Sundown creeps,
across adorned amber,
sky whose welkin,
shades volte face,
as evening edges,
into cosmic chakra,
of visual feasts,
orange, pink, purple,
prelude which emblazon,
point of day exodus,
atrophied moon winking,
mystic morph of,
dwindling halo,
to homeward bound,
throngs thirsting,
for redress within,
winter jasmine enclave,
cabal, clique, cluster,
in shrunken retreat,
from dreary toil,
nudge from nightfall,
whose cryptic code,
a dark art patois,
exemplified by,
eastern screech owl,
whose stocky medium,
and varied volume,
that twilight tremolo,
purring incognito,
among other creatures,
wet soil genus,
brisk firefly flash,
in town backyards,
wing rubbing katydid,
tree top rasp,
or amid green bush,
chirpy cricket,
midget burrow dweller,
allow oneself to wallow awhile,
in evening habitat,
in all its allure
Tall shadows stretch across the landscape,
the light is so refreshing from that angle.
A flashback from my childhood clambers in,
and I feel reborn as someone with a future.
It's of the view west with turquoise skies,
always reminding me of forgotten lifetimes.
I was raised by very devout religious parents,
I still watch the night sky for some star sign.
Maybe some angels or a talking burning bush,
something I can hold like a shiny golden calf.
Day by day inching closer to the final chapter,
when the veil is lifted and the truth will speak.
This is our absolutely glorious birthright in life,
the chance to face our end of days with courage.
The sun will manage the growth of the red fern,
and we will inspire...the lovely flowers among us!
date:2/11/2020
I do hide behind false smiles
I do refrain myself at times
Though I wish to open myself
I cannot, out of fear of being seen as weird
To be among the many
One needs to follow the trend
But to be the only one out of the lot
Is not given to each and everyone of us!
I do wish to bear my soul
To be accepted, respected
Even acclaimed for what I am
To be the way I am
Without pretending to be like the lot
Yet, why is it that such cannot be
Such cannot be in this world
Where perfection is revered as the most sublime
I do have my own demons
I do make confessions
Here, I try to make one
Though it is hidden in between lines
I try to bear my soul
But choose to show only a bit
For the views of the world scare me
I am after all, subjected to its opinions!
30 August 2014
"All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
And I intend to end up there." Rumi
In search of my beloved,
my supernova soul was born,
floating among gardens of glistening galaxies,
adoring heavenly hues of sapphire,
amethyst and emerald constellations,
where efflorescence butterflies,
fluttered among elysian scents.
Yet I still yearned for her forbidden fragrance.
Cultivating the art of transcendental romance,
euphoric emotions wrote an amaranthine aubade,
hoping the universe would hear my call,
as my love is a timeless lunar lullaby,
lingering like a flute echoing moonstone melodies,
where passion travels with each
nocturnal note composing a cosmic chorus,
ordained from an orchestra of galactic halos.
At twilight, in a playground of primrose promises,
millions of pulsar pearls appeared.
Silent and still, sentimental stars shimmering,
listening to the desires of my heart,
but at dawn they were always forgotten.
In my hallucination of loneliness,
fatigued from evanescent entities,
I awaited to hear her halcyon harmony,
until echoes vibrated from the moon,
so I became a slave to moonlight -
but it too, abandoned me at daylight.
Must I forever be the victim of selfish sunrise?
Upon the elegance of an ethereal eternal eclipse.
the last star wept sacred stardust on autumn leaves,
which glowed as they withered from scarlet to saffron.
In Nebula's November cull of death,
I fell like a comet in a meteor shower,
betrayed, falling into a quasar black hole -
lost forever.
Without interstellar lyrics,
I no longer illuminate,
maybe some light is too bright.
But, I know there is a rustic rose,
blossoming upon vintage shores,
so, every night I look up to the sky,
wondering where you are?
In these realms, within which I roam,
I watch each star suffocate
from the suppression of affection.
Seems no spectral spirit is selfless enough
to ignite this symphony of silence.
Maybe I was born a cosmic Casanova.
Maybe I'm just an intergalactic Romeo.
tittering among the hollyhock blooms
two elfin men both named Mack
just seeing them chased away my glooms
I knew they always had my back
two elfin men both named Mack
my flowers sparkling fresh and pretty
I knew they always had my back
the joy they gave me kept me witty
my flowers sparkling fresh and pretty
my garden developed quite a lovely name
the joy they gave me kept me witty
visitors came, flowers their clear aim
my garden developed quite a lovely name
the roses, tulips, bleeding hearts and daffodils
visitors came, flowers their clear aim
the love they exuded gave me chills
the roses, tulips, bleeding hearts and daffodils
just seeing them chased away my glooms
the love they exuded gave me chills
tittering among the hollyhock blooms
The Sun is leaving my room by the window
Oh, do not abandon my lips alone, a breeze
Is barely a kiss, return and lay in my bed now
Lock our lips and pay the fee of your Release
Fast, before I recall the last night and blush,
And while my house silently sleeps, remove
Your shirt and untie my gown last bow, Rush
Because I hear the coo of the rooftop’s dove,
Let me hide your face among my bosom,
if you leave a scorching mark, Do not frown
with worry, it will bud like a rose blossom
poured by joyful tears and will overgrown.
I will not look by the window, even a glimpse
My sun remains with me, love is an eclipse.
Teaching well, verily mentoring with their best
Engaged to build lives to the fullest
Ardent in vanquishing instruction pest
Carving hearts for servant-leadership training quest
Hoisting faith toward great service-crest
Educators are they with God’s empowering zest
Raising us, students, to follow Christ midst challenging test
Strengthened by the Master Teacher for service-gear from east to west...
Offering their lives to the Lord, verily blest
Fervently, they inspire us along excellence-finest…
Granting biblical sessions of maximum breadth’s widest
Rescuing us from folly’s fall and selfishness-vanity tempest
Exemplifying prudence for righteous choice, indeed wisest
Affirming and assuring truth according to Scriptures’ behest
Taking us to tread path of kindness against hypocrisy’s jest…
Working hard to brace learners like me for perseverance harvest
Ordering discipleship skills’ optimization, spiritually grandest
Reinforcing love-driven willingness --- motivation that’s heavenly highest
Tremendously influencing me; they are our teachers dearest…
Here am I now: a teacher, devoted to rear another teacher*, faithfully earnest.
*2Timothy 2:2 And the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.
October 8, 2019
1st place, "Favorite Teacher or Professor" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 10/31/2019.
He is like a distant aloof star
in this universe we all call our home.
A tiny insignificant star and so estranged,
he is but a flicker among billions
and billions of glittering entities populating endless skies,
always waning, and yet, in the evening shadows
ever staying - unassuming, solitary, and silent.
As he enjoys fading into twilight oblivion,
no one knows of his ambitions, history or preferences.
Unnamed to everyone, he enjoys his anonymity,
watching asteroids, comets, and the other stars around him
in deep azure nights - aware - feeling a peacefulness,
a kind of security in his own remote oneness.
For David Williams' Con / VowPoetry Contest