Long And Poems
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He happened across an old photo of his dad the other day and immediately remembered the advice he use to give…on a host of different subjects but mostly…how to live:
Things like:
Make friends with the Earth…with her mountains, her oceans…her rivers…and her seas…with every creature she created…with her flowers and her trees.
When your world is moving too fast and questions and self-doubt are everywhere…take a leisurely walk among the stars…you’ll be amazed at the answers awaiting you there.
Be courageous and loving, forgiving and compassionate…even on days when you find yourself in situations where it is difficult to be kind.
Be kind! because every act of kindness whether you know it or not…plants a seed
a seed of love and love is something the world shall always need
Laugh whenever you can…don’t let one happy moment pass you by…and when you’re sad…be sad…allow yourself to cry.
Treat everyone the same in all you say and do…remember everyone you meet is just a different kind of you.
He knew words of advice were easy to hear but it’s often difficult to heed them…so he offered his eyes, his ears, and his hands if ever he should need them:
When you need someone to talk to throughout the coming years…
I will always be available to hear your hopes, your dreams…your fears.
When you do not need advice…you just want someone to hear…to understand…
I will listen quietly…I will be there to hold your hand.
And if you ever forget what love looks like…since love is the ultimate prize…
wherever you are…come find me…you will see it in my eyes.
He smiled looking back….remembering a father who was kind, compassionate and wise…
and glad in that old photo…he could still find the love in his dad’s his eyes.
This now, is who I truly am
as my pen takes liberty.
What now, I write is where I ‘ve been
so much there for all to see.
Good and bad, the in-betweens,
the road walked down through the years,
a panoramic display of scenes
from sunshine highs to darkened tears.
But I am not so unlike you,
you who would glance across this write.
The road you’ve walked that I never knew;
are similar roads not brought to light ?
Know me by the writes you read
and I’ll do the same for you.
Writing is our consuming need
as to ourselves we must stay true.
***Debra Guzzi,
I was mindful of the syllable count in each line
as we’ve discussed in the past, but I had to let my heart go on this one.
(No reflection on your great teaching ability!!)
A huge thorn stabbed my side
I could no longer find a way to hide
Carrying it like a heavy cross on my shoulder
I wondered how long my life will go further
I heard the thorn bore its twig
Seemed as if a mountain to carry, it was so big
A tumultuous wave engulfed my being
My hope was wreathed…vision was blurring
I tried to gather strength… fending myself with *****
As I clung to God’s Love and His Saving Trunk
I cried to Him, kneeling and praying
Entrusting Him my agony and everything
As lighted candle in front of me grew brighter
I looked up and found two grey clouds turning whiter
Shafts of rays were beaming on sides
Gliding slowly like doors… showing a blue part of sky
As the sun peeped on that cloudy and gloomy day
Big raindrops fall suddenly and sparsely
With my open arms, I tried to catch-- to feel each of them
Hoping to heal my wound and take away my burden
Wings of good words heralded the miracle in few days
I felt His greatest love, omnipotence and saving grace
Then I was led in the Yardenit where His Beloved Son was baptized
A precious gift of consecration to renew my life
October 30, 2013 7.15pm;te
( old poem)
First Place
Contest: A poem you've not entered in contest #4
Judged: 5/22/14
Sponsor: My dearest poet, PD
I entered a contest for plays;
I’d hoped for approval and praise.
The audience cheered
And nobody jeered
And I even was given bouquets!
We followed the show with a dinner.
I grinned like the grinniest grinner.
The feelings that flowed
And the way that I glowed
Would convince someone I was the winner.
Today they confirmed what I knew –
My chances for glory are through.
But still, though I lost,
There were barriers crossed
And I made an impressive debut.
The lesson I learned from this chance
Is that fortunes don’t always advance;
But if you never try
You’ll be wondering why
You’re the wallflower watching the dance.
Seagulls and Saints of Emmaus
David J Walker
I see Seagulls and Saints
And icy sills of Window’s
Restraints of blurred realities
And unaccompanied Complaints
But clearly every pray ends
In amends and Amens
And incitant constraints
I see syllables in Sawgrass
A syllabus of things passed
Down in hands of hand me down
Phases and phrases
Of false praise promises of
Devine Salutations extended to
The someone just behind me
I see sunsets and bad bets
In this and that complications of
Unfinished pages of equivocations
On the road to Emmaus,
(about seven miles from Jerusalem)
“Stay with us” we plead
for it is nearly evening and the day is almost done.”
So he went and broke bread
And then fled as their eyes opened.
And That’s when I saw
Seagulls and Saints
Dining in fields
of locust and wild honey
He had a reputation for helping the elderly, the poor and the young.
He was killed by the hand of a Judas who was once his friend.
He was shot in the dark without warning. He was unarmed.
An all night long candle lit vigil followed as everyone mourned.
His short and violent life had come to an end.
The entire village was heartbroken. They had all grown to love him.
He was already a legend back when the old west was untamed and wild,
but legend doesn't portray the brutal harshness of the true life he had lived.
His was the tragedy of a promising young boy,
forced to become a man while still a child.
All would one day know him as Billy, the Kid.
("The Cave of Unknowing", 2012, original oil)
Live Free or Die
Live free or die!
Well, we’re all gonna die,
But living and dying free
Is obviously the way to go.
Freedom of speech
May be the root of all our freedoms
But it’s meaningless
If all we can do is parrot others.
Look around
The night sky is daylight bright now
From all the gaslighting we see streaming
From every pore of every mainstream media whore.
The blind are blind not from birth
But from having their heads buried in sand
For so long
They can’t tell up from down.
Nothing new under the sun
And Plato spilled the beans long ago
On the blind
In their caves of unknowing.
But the point is you have to see for yourself
To know the truth,
And as all truth knowers know,
Only the truth will set you free.
(6/26/24)
Once I had a good job with the government,
it paid well and was secure,
but it was boring.
Hated it,
so much.
decided,
to go back to school,
and that I would be a nurse.
It took a lot of guts to leave a good job.
I got a student grant and worked nights part-time.
Studied very hard each day,
hard to pay bills,
but made it,
at last.
Now I work in a job that is heartbreaking,
I help the dying old die,
die with dignity.
It is not,
easy.
I gained a job that takes guts to face each day.
____________________
July 6, 2015
Suzette Prime
For the contest, Guts and Gain, sponsor, Olive Eloisa Guillermo
So if everyone
Is born of God
Does this Include the sinner
I am born of God and I am a victor
Yet it be told
If you want to be held
Remembering...everyone birth of God
Overcomes the world
I am a victory
And in this simplicity
My choice to do right has saved me
Let it be told
I want to be held
Remember...everyone birth of God
Overcomes the world
For thus is the victory
That has overcome me
Victory this so had overcome this world
Even our Faith
My faith
Your faith
Our faith
God's love and mercy
This is the victory that has overcome the world
Even our faith, I am born of God and I'm a victor
1 John 5:4
5/7/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
How many images can I paint more
than I’ve already done? Like nights moon-lit
or meadow-dancing? You - whom I adore -
in every love scene - you’re the star of it.
The many colors! Oh, each brilliant hue.
I splashed them giddily when we shared bliss.
I’ve given sunsets, snow and spring to you -
Sweet passion’s words for you, Dear, and a kiss
I’ve always left down on the corner of
each canvas in our life, for there’s no me
without you, and there’s nothing but our love
to get us through, and sometimes tragedy
I’ve painted too – deep ocean’s blue – yet still,
I’ll paint you always lovely with my quill.