Long Breaking up Poems
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In appraisal of Eunoia
O’
Eunoia—
The applause—
her intellect, her brilliance, her entire dialect magnifies, mingles, and her chosen magnetic select
Artistically echoes—the truth, the beauty, and her tranquil innocence
Ineffable—her devotion, unbelievable-her ideation
Admirably cherished and cheered by great intercontinentals—laudably chosen attention,
O’Attained affection: long through her enigmatic expressions
The Togetherness—
in unheard divinity and blessed brilliance—of beloved Muhammad Adnan
as profoundly pure since she stepped in art”—he, a divine lawn
through thick and thin, the affection whispers high at every dawn
“The Wordsmith”, “The Literary Lounge” and “The Journal of Transnational Literature”—emblem of Maan
The appraisals—
praise her laurels, whispers her in divine arena
brightly across cultures, fences, and languages
as the Doctrine—Ma’ Yongbo, Zhang Zhi into Chinese
and the enjoyable verses of Guan Garriodo in Spanish
Blink through the wonders of Dr. Miguel Leonardo’s FEMALPC
The lauds—
weaving through poetry, breaking up the barriers, letting it free
Dan Muwangi’s presence as editor, rushes all into a grandiose tree
living like Byeong Kang’s translation, Geum-Hee’s celestial recitation
With Vo Thi Mai’s precious— Vietnam translation
The Regards—
glitter and glint at Kujim Hajdari’s “All Together”,
roars and relish at Bhagirath’s “Global Change Maker”
and softly speaks at Nasir Ajaiz’s “Sindh Courier”
Blinks at Noora Salam’s “The Quill”— little brighter
The esteem—
mirrors and mutters at Jerry Langdon’s “Raven Cage”
in the Arabic echos by Tagrid Boumerhi in Al jihad-an amazing stage
and too in Ukrainian tales by Tetiyana, Bengali blooms by Md Ejaz—speak heavy range.
Over and overly trumpeting for the eunoia she possesses in her character by greatly glints.
Down by the river
In a valley very green
Live the nicest little people
That were ever, ever seen.
They have lots of little houses
All along the valley floor
With so many, many windows
And such tiny, tiny doors.
And if you’re very careful
And you creep up soft and slow
You might sometimes hear their laughter
When the sun is sinking low.
For these tiny, tiny people
Sleep all through the sun-long day
And soon as night approaches
They get up to sing and play.
Through the night with moon and stardust
Shining in the river’s face
They go dancing down the valley
Breaking up the mist like lace.
And if you’re very careful
In the morning soft and slow
You can sometimes find their jewels
On the grass-blades hanging low,
For the nicest little people
In the river valley green
Take the mist and dew and stardust
And their laughter all unseen
And they mix them all together
Just before the night is through
So that in the early sunshine
We enjoy their jewels too.
"Heaven Open To Souls"
I walked into the room and found an old tattered book
sitting on my bed like a still born child wanting to be held
On the cover lay a topple of flowers plucked from our garden
and as I read the title, I came to understand my sister's creed
"Heaven Open To Souls" was the fine print on the spine
it made me drop a salty tear to see her favorite braille
A book of poetry that held all the bible truths of death
explaining how souls flew forth, from earth to heaven
Evoking summers of our childhood readings on the porch
I recalled her big sister smile and my youngling yawn of old
Ann would tuck the little book inside her sweater and say,
"eight fingers to touch my heaven and two for kissing you"
But then one day she got leukemia and she soared away
dad was breaking up in two so I showed him what to do
sit by the porch emboss to her the words , I love you...
but it was not his memory but mine and oh how he knew
so the next day he left it on my bed, for me to treasure find
he knew that I had eyes to see but Ann, she was born blind.
Pretending,
in the depths of my lost mind
My dreams, formed inside my head
We'd be so happy, now and then
But troubles they come
as if troubles always do
We get to the point
where we say that we're through
I pretend to break up with you
just so I can make up with you
I'd miss the words "I love you"
and I'd miss saying "I love you too"
I wanna miss your arms around me
miss that kiss that soothes me
miss that singing voice that woo's me
I wanna miss breaking up with you
just so I can make up with you
Pretending,
just a waste of my time
I love you, even though your not mine
My dreams, born inside my head
We'd be so happy, every now and then
But the storms they come,
like storms always do
I get to the point
where i say that I'm through
I pretend to break up with you
just so I can make up with you
I'd miss the words "I love you"
and I miss saying "I love you too"
I wanna miss your arms around me
miss that kiss that soothes me
miss that singing that woo's me
I wanna miss breaking up with you
just so I can make up with you
Pertending,
inside i'm doing fine
Above you, a poor heart that is mine
My dreams, going on inside my head
We'd be so happy, every now and then
But fears they come
just like fears always do
We get to the point
where we're afraid to say I love you
I pretend to break up with you
just so I can make up with you
I'd miss the words "I love you"
and I miss saying "I love you too"
I wanna miss your arm's around me
miss that kiss that soothes me
miss that singing that woo's me
I wanna miss breaking up with you
just so I can make up with you.
My birdfeeder is a meeting place for many feathered friends,
Delighting me with hours of pleasure that knows no ends.
All sorts of fowl gather there from miles and miles round,
Chattering with the latest gossip creating a melodious sound!
Two mourning doves dine on seeds found upon the ground,
A pair of svelte lovers, billing and cooing, not caring who's around.
A magnificent falcon silently appears in a graceful swoop,
Startling dozens of finches, breaking up their social group!
A couple of haughty ravens stop by for their daily repast.
I may have to refill the feeder since their appetites are so vast!
Sprightly, cute little chickadees flit about to and fro,
Hardly taking the time to feed - they're always on the go!
Golden finches, blue jays and robins add a colorful hue.
Mr and Mrs Lark Bunting, Colorado's bird, make this their rendevouz.
Portly pigeons strut about gathering their fair share.
Lowly sparrows perch in nearby trees awaiting their daily fare.
I've yet to find a feeder that keeps those wily squirrels at bay.
I reckon some inspired genius will figure that out someday.
'Til then my backyard friends will have to share the seeds,
As I strive to cater to their very voracious needs!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
I was rather informed on definitions but on time frames, not so much. I was anticipating an experience never realized for more than 150 years. The sun, moon, and earth were orchestrating one giant and rare exposition. When I heard that a Supermoon was coming on January 31st, I said, "This I got to see".
I, a mortal with a far lesser task, did something very wrong yesterday. It was absolutely unnecessary and wrong for me to get up before 2:30 AMPT. It was simply too early for me to be gazing at the moon on a chilly winter's morn. Moreover, such unnecessary and inexcusable time was just wrong no matter what. I also did something very right yesterday, and it wasn't yielding the 'right of way' to a wrong way driver. It was courageously right for me to get up early this morning, and accomplish my goal because I refused to be denied seeing a Supermoon.
At 2:28 AM, the moon could be seen from just outside of my front door, looking straight up into the western sky. It was not as large as I had anticipated but very bright. Besides, I would soon learn that I was too early and I was in for a little wait to really benefit the best show of the Supermoon. At 3:55 AM, I noticed a partial eclipse beginning to take shape. At 5:50 AM, from my back window, with excitement I beheld a Redmoon. At 6:18 AM, there was a great view of the eclipse. At 6:49 AM, the great view of the moon is breaking up. At 6:54 AM, the veiw of the moon had disappeared and my moon watch was over. 02012018 PS
On the first day of Christmas a quiet patrol,
Streets almost deserted, we barely saw a soul.
On the second day of Christmas another easy day
Everybody it seemed keeping out of our way.
On the third day of Christmas suicide bombers struck
Killing those travelling in an old beat-up truck
On the fourth day of Christmas a retaliatory attack
Relatives of yesterday’s dead striking back.
On the fifth day of Christmas back to a relative calm
No evidence of anybody suffering any harm
On the Sixth day of Christmas, we could all hear
The crack of sniper rifles seeming far too near.
On the seventh day of Christmas peace broke out
Again an eerie silence as our patrol moved about
On the eighth day of Christmas the Padre conducted prayers
And called for the understanding of all parties out there.
On the ninth day of Christmas the truce held still
As if being maintained by sheer force of will
On the tenth day of Christmas with tour’s end in sight
Mortar bombs whined in breaking up the night
On the eleventh day of Christmas our tour came to an end
And we were replaced by more rested men
On the twelfth day of Christmas resting back at base
A forty-eight-hour break before return to that awful place
By a gently flowing creek -
I saw a swallowtail flutter
About my head, as though meek -
And land softer than a feather.
He was large enough, I swear -
To sit in all of my hand.
He did not mind that I was there
Or that I was entranced.
Soon, a second butterfly
Distracted him by swooping down -
His mate, I surmised.
How fiercely they swirled around!
Then breaking up, they moored
To sup water from the red rock
Like two tasters of one accord
Complimenting the good stock.
They bathed in the glorious sun -
Posing candidly in a beam -
As if to show their dalliance
Off for the wide world to see
Then came a convenient wind;
The two undocked at bay -
And taking quick advantage -
They sailed playfully away.
Distress is my pain empire
Fluttered in my Liar Mentality…truth be told while I be bold…letting time unwind…
I’m sorry – I’m no higher
Than a King from on High…but, I don’t mind…
Descending from the Stairway of Heaven…walkin’ that confident stride to 7-11
Rainbow smoke sifts out my desire’s fire…
Seep into me…get the dust in my mouth…bring me on Cloud 7
High and drunk off your beat, my empire…
The Day of Unleavened bread is comin’ up…
Gotta get rid of hanging sin from my chin…shattered like a china cup…
On the floor…on the floor…
You don’t like me much anymore…
Heart broken… a pain left unspoken…
I’m climbing higher than the clouds
I’m climbing the mountains of shrouds
Smiling in the face of hardships
Grimacing and arriving undone
Breaking up with breaking down…
Breaking up with breaking down…
Breaking up with breaking down…
It’s killing me
Quietly, I’m alive…
I will survive…
Yet, arriving undone…
I’m alive…
Infatuated by hella fun…
Losing my train of thot…
Untie me from this knot…
I love my pain like the drug Lithium…
Numb my pain, leaving me feelin’ dumb
Have faith and hope – it’s derived from the disability of my energy drainage (a feeling of weariness)
These shattered dreams I long to cope with…catfishing for no reason and downloading useless files won’t help me through this rampage…
On this page…
Of blank stares…
Imagining swaying rocking chairs and iridescent stairs…
I’m invincible…
I’m invisible…
I may be irresistible…
But, don’t hurt me…I’m irritable and sensitive…
Immature behaviors are apparently legal at home…
In this house of abuse – I’m a weird, fuzzy moose…let go and let live…
Let me let out my fumes of manlihood…
Heat waves of be-brave sweep into me
Sweat of defeat trickle down my face,
Attempting to keep pace and tying your shoe lace
Aiming my shadows and reflections on “to-be-or-not-to-be”
So sick, ashamed, tuke-deh-blaim guilty
And tired of your sarcastic comments that tease me on purpose
Really not an accidental thing in the first place
Crazy talk I do on a daily basis
Aggravated beyond reason and logic and behind-closed-pupils emotions
So afraid to change my mind about breaking up with you and making the mistake of going back together with you
Totally an incomplete work of art from the start...I adored you, Seth Art from the heart...but I'm torn apart - we are opposite isles at Walmart
I claimed and nurtured caring, affectionate sayings and lines of endless blessings and miracles that ended up being cursed and obstacles
Clever, but a deceiver...looks are awfully appealing, but what's in the inside are a billion books...left unread and left for dead instead...left on the literature bed, molding and rusting in pangs of dread that piles up in my head like debt overhead
Chillin like a villain with a tranquil mindset for a change
Oh my word, I will forgive the words you uttered and will utter ASAP
Mesmerized by your love that is for naught
Messed-up in the head mentally and emotionally...happiness and joy, like weeds that were once delight dandelions, distraughtly rot and remotely fought...a frenzied, fired-up fraught as an aftershock of oblivion's ignorance
Elegance turn to hideous results, unless you turn that around by mere coincidence altogether, which will most likely not happen, knowing you very rebellious and an uncompromising, headstrong head that is robust - but, break, it must
Never flawless and willing it all away...these thunder and rain bolts
Truly, you better not shoot me down or I'll bite the bullet and rip up that gown of galore glory and gracious glamor displayed dazzlingly, non-drastically projected on screens of hope strings that won't snap off by the single snip of the sensuous, shapeless scissors
Sanity's lines come into play the moment the insanity lies on the paper and not on my scraggly soul again...refrain from pouring your vermillion drizzle upon us and naturally, slip inside the same bumpy, rowdy bus with us for a time...there's no need to hide, subside, cuss or fuss