Long Be after Poems
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The moment you get a blank page near your eyes
Fill it with as many stars as you can
Bring them out from your river and crimson clay
At play inside your land and sea
This is the first lesson I was taught by good earth
That has helped me a lot towards
Survival with delight from the sounds and colours
Not possible to buy with dollars
Ask why and how at every step you take forward
Not faith but reason always be after
Be sceptic and explore every sun moon and star
And enjoy the dance of intellect
Was the second lesson I learnt all along the road
From the air and water I came across
As I grew up with my changing world around me
Changing me too thereby everyday
A discovery of doors and windows toward beauty
Lend your hand to one who needs it
Kindle at least a dim glow in the dark for some eyes
Draw out some thorn from a flower
This I learnt from the path I traveled inhaling in joy
The aroma of soil brick and dust
While the first two always desired me up above for your stars
The passion of holding your hand kept me close to your river
_______________________________________________________
12/02/2017
I would see him die, rather than saving him.
I don't know what his life could be after he dies, or if he would be saved.
If someone dies, that person is remembered, would be praised for his good deeds, or criticized for words he never meant in that way.
But I will have the thought that he will have a better afterlife—what many people don't know about.
But if I save that person, I don't know what major change I will cause in his stormful presence.
He is looking dead into my eyes, like his eyes are telling me that I am the last living person who hasn't seen him with disgust.
I saw him jump over the bridge.
At first, I thought a thief or a burglar took his wallet and pushed him off.
But now I am questioning what I should believe—
The fake thought that I have created, or the reality that he wants to die in.
And at that point, I would let him die, rather than saving him.
I see you here
I got you
I see you there
I got you
Please surrender your dreams to me
Allow me to intercede
I'll
embrace you here
I'll
carry you anywhere
I'll
be the kind of guy
You want to bring home to your mom
I'll follow Christ with you by my side
We'll worship together being lead by the Father
I see you here
I got you
I see you there
I got you
Please surrender your dreams to me
Allow me to intercede
Allow me my daerling to lead prayer meetings
Only follow me as I follow Christ
Let me cook you nothing but “SWEET BUTTERED RICE”
I would cry for you I would die for you
I'll
embrace you here
I'll
carry you anywhere
I'll
be the kind of guy
You want to bring home to your mom
I'll follow Christ with you by my side
Could I be after time the guy
I'll
love you
I'll
adore you
I'll
be true, as I'll allow myself to do
I'll be faithful
I'll worship the creator
I'll love you true
If this is the last thing in life I'll do
..it's moments like this I must confess
I really, really want to embrace
and give you a Godly kiss
let it be understand I'll be your only man under God and...
I'll
love you
and I'll be true...
I'll
5/12/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2018
From anthology “God Made all Women Beautiful” 2018©
MY LATE NIGHT CONFESSION
Nocturnal calls for my lifetime detention.
So...here is my true confession.
Note: it's rather literal than figurative,
even as I now become a fugitive,
scarred from the sight of known men.
Let it be known that I killed two women;
My neighbour, and my best friend.
I hasten their journey and decide their end.
The police should be after me after this.
Forgive me Lord for I've lost my peace.
Good luck if justice finds me before mercy does.
April fool to everyone I've tinkered with their pulse.
#Aprilfool #Dontbeafool #Aprilisfull #fullofblessing???? #mylatenightconfession #vickmanuelpoetry #vmp #poetking????
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhymes
Copyright ©? 1st April 2023.
There are nights to be after
Most nights... went simply away
Asking for yet a night to bother
If only this night... this time will stay
How everything I can easily push
How troubles dissolve obediently
How nothing more I stand to lose
No more a cultured mind but think openly
In sync and enabled anew
That many end roads produces options
Slowly but surely... one becomes few
Too much finally for needs of sections
And I began to wonder
Perhaps we all need be pushed to limits
Not that I think will end better
Simply just... how an alternated mind leads
There will be other nights to be after
When this night... went simply away
Another night to be asking to bother
For this night... this time that'll never stay
A shrank is a plot point you had to move through to become you,
it had to slide right in-between the two red Sea's you carry with the...
No-one could expect a place to be after it's all seen, but your mind is obscene,
have you not heard me?
Latter days in,
expelled ways,
listener rells,
but that countries expelled!
Grip, grime, pell,
pull it in with the weld-
baby it had to be hell,
I pulled the all the way across a spell?
Hey heckedy he-he!
It's a male gene,
no-one expected reliance upon compliance in such a hot car but heyy! We dived pretty far!
Look at thee!
Look at thee!
It's promising me some saunter,
a grace glance at the haunter!
We loved him,
expected his yonder,
far fetched songer with-a bonger!
Because who knows every wanderer!
As Marion trod the old familiar path
leading to the river of her childhood,
she viewed the willow tree across the river
and recalled with clarity
the event that changed her life
half a century ago - that memory
which for all her adult life
she‘d managed to suppress . . .
She was being chased by Ellie down the path;
Ellie, the fair haired younger sister
favored by their father
and wearing the golden pendant he had given her
when she’d won a spelling bee.
Yanking the pendant from her sister’s neck,
Marion ran into the river’s icy water,
threatening to throw the pendant in.
Screaming, Ellie followed right behind.
Farther into the river’s center, the two girls moved.
Where the riverbed dipped sharply,
Ellie had caught up.
Suddenly the wind blew violently,
The chain with its beautiful pendant
slipped from Marion’s hand
into the swirling water.
Ellie tottered, falling backwards.
Then the river was carrying
Marion’s little sister to the other side.
Marion called out, but Ellie did not answer.
A strong swimmer, Marion swam
to her sister’s lifeless body
on the opposite bank where a nearby willow stood -
witness to her crime.
Marion now was standing where she once had stood
that fateful day. The river had receded with time,
but its current was still strong.
She stood recalling her parents’ bitter tears
and how she had escaped their wrath
inventing her own version of the truth -
that Ellie had run into the water by herself
when the sudden wind came up
causing her demise.
She felt bad, but in the end,
she became her father’s newfound pride and joy.
Something glittered at the water’s edge.
Marion, now heavy and clumsy with age,
moved closer to see. Could it be after all these years?
Yes, it was the pendant, shining in the river’s sludge!
She stooped to pick it up, but lost her balance,
falling forward toward the slanting floor.
As she struggled, a great gust of wind
moved her out. . .farther and farther to the middle.
Before her head vanished below the water’s surface,
she saw that old willow’s leaves flutter angrily.
She could almost swear she saw the form of Ellie,
fair sweet Ellie, beckoning her from the other side.
For Frank Herrera's POEM ENDING WITH A 'CHILLING TWIST' Poetry Contest
aint our anniversary on the 29th.
you best get me something this year.
!
fat tuesday and Valintines Day.
Three gift's mista!
I need sumthang to brag to them
unmarried broads about
so they can envy me!
The two pretty gals think they cute
but when I get to the office with these words
them pretty thangs
will frown and envy me!
just like I envy them
when they talk about
the adventures of
Brave tricks. They the worst,
and them pretty boys be after them
wild azz chix's. This world
is on it's head.
Guess it's alway been that way!
Don't buy me no tuba this year
get something senual.
I feel like Loving.
Make them punks who rejected me
curse you out!
I rode my bike down Omen Road,
Knew they'd be after me, I'd reap what I sowed.
Crossed into Jersey, saw a dead bird ahead—
I prefer voices, I get symbols instead
In a pullout was a convertible with a man inside
He drew his finger across his nose, didn't approve this ride
By Greenwood Lake I smelled perfume as I climbed up the slope
I was tensing up, I was reaching the end of my rope
Heard two sarcastic guys in a parking lot
They could be talking about me, I hoped they were not
Should I keep on my course to Port Jervis Hotel?
Should I cut my trip short, heed the tolling bell?
(chorus)
For whom does the bell toll? Could it be me?
Should I surrender my rights in the land of the free?
It’s a grim kind of fate, riding this road,
Where even roadkill is a phrase in a code.
I cut through Warwick, a town old and serene
What I would encounter, who could have foreseen?
Passed a dead skunk on the road, who put it there?
Was I being paranoid, my accusation unfair?
Kept on a few miles, another dead skunk
I pinched myself, could I be drunk?
Reached a platform, but no train in the station,
Asked a bitter woman where I could find accomodation.
She sent me south, just a mile or two,
But the motel was nowhere, her directions untrue.
I asked a local man to search his cell phone
He found an old B and B that was not well known
The owners said I could stay, though it wasn't summer yet
This was an unexpected rescue, I felt in their debt
Next morning on the road, I ran into a dead fox
Does it pay to be clever, to think out of the box?
There’s a law of revenge, a law of crime,
Their justice isn’t yours, nor is it mine.
They were crusaders, but afraid of exposure
I knew too much, there could never be closure.
Got to the Hudson, got on the train
No way to tell this story, all would think it insane
How can I go against sanity's flow?
When the mundane is an omen, what can I show?
If it can be explained away, it stays unknown
And the startled realization stays alone.
Met with you the first time, knowing not what I had just found.
Working days and nights beside you, walking unit’s hard ground.
Helping one another in and out of these day’s crisis.
Trust in easy comfort sharing secrets and our vices.
Blinded by your selfless nature under our same God’s eyes.
Colored hues of virtue burned into your soul it rides
Times enduring twelves in truth and depth of pasts and yet-tos.
Corners turning heads to tails in trails you doing time thru.
I have watched you suffer dating burden from his cold hand,
Wanting many times to tell you to break from that dead man.
Wisdom needing to remind me, hope was holding you still.
Losing grip, you make the change and years returning, Love will.
My prayers carry wishes for you, one day’s given good spouse.
Under Holy Ghost’s soft guidance, making your home, God’s house.
Sharing smiles and tears in keeping promise past the last day.
Into Christ’s embrace that shines you through a Heaven’s gateway.
Always just a thought away you will be after our end.
Grateful in my heart to have been given such a rare friend.