Long Burdon Poems

Long Burdon Poems. Below are the most popular long Burdon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Burdon poems by poem length and keyword.


The Lost Art of Composition

The Lost Art Of Composition

too often my thoughts and the ability to express them
are taken hostage without a clue to the cause
this is an affliction familiar to many a writer
as if madness wasn't enough
it proves to be immune to every method I've used
to relieve my minds constipation
it enslaves your ideas and duct tapes the mouth of your soul
binds your fingers and hands so you are unable to write

I Whiskeyed and Scotched it self medicated with drugs
the addiction that resulted I thought could be bribed
held a knife at its throat threatened, bullied and beat it
poked and scratched at the eyes
Kicked it in the balls
pleaded and begged even got on my knees and prayed
all my efforts were ineffective
it only pissed it off more and tightened the grip 
around my Muse's neck

I had exhausted my resolve to this disease that consumed me
there was no other option but to surrender
I decided to give up , knuckle under call it quits
not answer the bell for the next round
I disconnected my computer and turned off my cellphone
the typewriter on my desk just for show
I've had since college every once in a while I have at it
so I stashed in the closet with books by Sexton, Wolfe and Burroughs
Cisneros, Bukowski and Gonzo

I turned down the lights and lit some candles
sat at my desk to prepare my suicide note
what happened when the ballpoint touched the papers surface
was the key opening the front door lock to home
an energy manifested that I had known long ago
before Technology had deadened it's nerves
it sparked the transfer of thought into a word 
forming the shape of a sentence
this cosmic electricity flowed into my hand holding the pen
then designed a paragraph the child of chapter
I touched every noun felt each verb envisioned the adjectives description
heard every "ly" in the adverbs reply and ignored the rules of punctuation

I had discovered the remedy  to restore my inspiration
the cure I possessed all along
The lost art of composition was my salvation
my own prescription is what I wrote

the poet is an artist that paints in the darkness
a poems words the colors that create light
a writer is blessed with all of the answers
cursed in the search for what questions to ask






Judge Burdon


Fosse Way

Legend of Fosse Way

Riding hard under a moonlight high 
not a leaf rustling and it troubles my mind
In the distance there's music of the lyre and flute 
rippling over the moors
Serenading the stars  
The voice of a maiden
bleeds it's way through the thick darkness
Singing an ole Bawdy Pub Song.
My steed swift at a gallop
hooves sound their click clack
As we cross Halford Bridge
No time to be wasted 
seeking comfort at the Inn
History demands I deliver this message
The dispatch I carry holds the future of England
I must make Exeter Castle by dawn.
No matter the risk or danger I encounter
It is crucial that I press on
Two Queens vying for the throne of England
Not even God can decide which be the righteous one 
Protestant or Catholic not the reason for choice
A Queen must have love for Mother England  
coursing through her blood

Forrest fairies ring the bells on the Fox Glove 
The Oaks without expression and still
A rare breeze slaps the sleeping grasses in the glades
In the marsh toads croak complaint to night’s chill
This road is dominion of Highwaymen and thieves 
Robbing those that choose this way to travel.
By the will of God and the Bishop's blessing 
I will pass undetected by scoundrels and rabble
Nourished only on bread and Brambleberries 
Traveling in the cover of night taking sleep by day
All that I've seen are ghosts of Roman soldiers
On this thoroughfare known as Fosse Way

If by the hand of God or the Devil 
I meet with an untimely death
And I am unable to tell tale of this ride
Let not my story meet the same fate
Say my name Nigel Foster be mentioned in yarns  
told in pubs and taverns .
History will decide if I am a Patriot or Traitor
As a result of my actions
When the years pass into the future 
Don't let me be a lost memory of yesterday
If by chance may I live on
as one of the many legends
The many legends of Fosse Way.

Inspired by Alfred Noyes poem “The Highwayman"
And in memory of my distant relative, 
Robert Devereux 2nd Earl of Essex.
Judge Santiago Burdon
©2019
Form: Ballad

Premium Member True Happiness

True Happiness.
.
True happiness
Doesn’t belong to the rich
Who are often blind
For true happiness
Is much more than just a feeling
But a state of well-being and a state of mind
That often can not be defined
.
The release from Burdon
With a clear road ahead of you
You’ve reached the finishing line
Moments to savor
A brake on the hands of time
.
A feeling of accomplishment
And transpired desires
Good news that sparks a fire
A feeling of elation
An emotion awakened
Fill of heartfelt joy
That only true happiness
Can deploy
.
It’s the freedom to fly through clear blue skies
The moment your first child is born
The look of love in your sweetheart's eyes
It’s seeing the beauty in the smallest things
As listening to a blackbird
As it sings
.
It’s the feeling of the warm sun again
After winter
And playing like a child
A feeling of contentment
Warm affection 
An idle daydream
Cherished moments on reflection
Being at one and at peace with everything and the world
I love you uttered by someone you love
Be it a boy or a girl
.
A slow walk in a forest
Getting soaked in the pouring  
Cooling summer rain
The warm embers still aglow after making love
Wrapped in each other's arms
Both left satisfied yet again
.
It’s a fragrant aroma
Your favorite music or song 
You play all day long
.
It’s an attitude
A blissful mood
The pledge ‘’I do’’ 
On your wedding day
Dancing under the stars and milky way
Having good friends who care
And seeing their faces when you give
A mad passionate affair
.
An overwhelming feeling of excitement
A place deep inside of us
A twist of fate
And an open gate
.
What is happiness maybe objective
And often self selected
Positivity manifests positive vibes
Being grateful for the things you have
Discriminating to see the good things
In the bad
Godly devotion
For he created us and all
He is the safety net
There to catch us when we fall#
A taste of paradise.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
© Peter Dome  Create an image from this poem.

The Dyslexic Shepherd Boy


Long  ago when fairy tales and fables

Defined that period in time 

There's a story seldom told 

Of a Dyslexic Shepherd boy 

Who guarded the town's flock

From a wolf with hungry eyes 

The Mayor said to cry Wolf when he attacked

Then townsfolk would run to his aid

never should he raise a false alarm

The Shepherd Boy before him 

knew the rule but disobeyed 

He played a joke by crying Wolf 

when he wasn't around 

He thought it so funny 

To call out a false alarm 

Making everyone to come running from  town.

He played his joke a few more times   

Soon not a single villager would react

Then came the night when the wolf made his move 

And he cried out that the wolf had attacked

Not a soul ran to help him to fight off the wolf

They heard his pleas but they went by ignored 

He was alone to face the vicious wolf Without the villagers support 

In the morning when they checked on the Shepherd Boy

His outcome was horrifying and grim

It happened that after his many false alarms

The joke was actually on him.

The Dyslexic Shepherd Boy made a promise

He would never call out a false alarm.

As long as he didn't play tricks 

He would never come to harm  

The night came when the wolf attacked 

He screamed for the townsfolk below 

they thought it was a trick

because the Dyslexic Shepherd Boy wasn't crying 'WOLF'

He was screaming 'FLOW'

JSB

Judge Santiago Burdon 

Stray Dogs and Deuces Wild, Not Real Poetry, Quicksand Highway, Fingers in the Fan, Tequilas Bad Advice, Lords of the Afterglow, Overdose of Destiny, Architect of Havoc .
Form: Rhyme

Grilled Cheese

Grilled Cheese Hold The Memory
By: Judge Burdon
If I only knew what you were thinking 
I'd feel warmer against the cold 
Than with my coat
Avoiding the words I've heard
Crying out to be spoken
Regretting the letters I never wrote.

Sure has been quite a while 
since I've seen you last
How the  years they've passed us by
The tears we've cried have long been dried
Things have changed they always do
We're both different now
It doesn't matter anyhow
Tell me how've you been
Still smiling I guess permanently
Hope that smile is for me

I've been living out west in Tucson
Ya know fun in the sun
Just getting by but not by much
No bad times although still don't have a dime 
to my name

Chicago hasn't changed it still seems the same
You say they had a lot snow in Wisconsin
It gets oh so cold and the wind it blows 
so damn hard
I'm still smoking and playing guitar
But I'm not getting far

So tell me did you find that special someone
Who you  would make sure 
to be nothing like me
I know l made a mess of love
Like dirt l swept it under the rug
To be forgotten
Thanks for the great grilled cheese
Oh how we survived on these
Every time I eat one it brings back fond memories
Of you know back then
Another cup of coffee then I've got to run
That's such a good line especially at this time
Don't say we'll keep in touch or how much 
you've missed me
Just stopped by for your famous grilled cheese 
And a broken memory that can never be.......
Form: Rhyme


That Winter Evening

In that winter evening, I dread what I saw..;

The pain as the little child cried..!!

Left on the huge pile of straw..;

Shivering and crying the child look tired..!!

No one at sight, to answer the poor angel’s plight..;

Not a piece of cloth to shield her from the chilly breeze..;

Though the face now pale, eyes are still so bright..!!

Child is crying as she suffers in the natures might..!!

What wrong could she have done..??

Is being a girl is such a Burdon..??

Such a beauty but still left to die..;

I can see she is hurt as she has a bruised black eye..!!

I just can’t see her cry..;

I can’t help her, as she is not in the same world as I..!!

Slowly the loud cry turned low..!!

I knew she would die and that too slow..!!

How is this fair I wondered..??

The poor soul is dying ..;

As this world is no longer the place I loved..!!

The one I loved the most,

Has become worst than the wild..!!

Now even I pray for the angel to die..!!

Come back angel, come back to me..!!

I can’t even be forgiven..;

For the one who created this jungle is no one but me..!!

But never did I thought, my presence would be forgotten..!!

Love would be forgotten while hatred will prevail..!!

This world is to end sooner than I thought..;

As in that winter evening, I saw what I always dreaded..!!
Form:

French Fry Etiquette

French Fry Etiquette 

She left me sitting alone in McDonalds
Didn't take a bite of her Big Mac 
Or touch a single one of her  French Fries    
She grabbed her Coke then walked away 
And never even looked back
I thought about eating the fries 
Although I had lost my appetite 
It wasn't because I was hurt by the drama 
She spreads ketchup on top of all of them
Instead of dipping each fry
I'm sure you know
the type 
When it comes to eating French fries 
Her method doesn't follow proper etiquette
Even though it bothered me I never said a word 
Because she gets pissed off so quickly 
And becomes 
belligerent 
I didn't understand what just happened 
It left me totally confused 
Why did she Super Size her order
If she wasn't going to eat the food
We had a date to go for dinner 
I couldn't figure out why she got upset 
I told her she looked gorgeous 
But maybe a little overdressed 
She looked surprised when we arrived 
And said McDonalds you've got to be kidding 
How insensitive of me to take her to McDonalds for dinner 
Knowing her favorite hamburger joint is Burger King 
JSB
Judge Santiago Burdon 
Stray Dogs and Deuces Wild, Not Real Poetry, Quicksand Highway, Fingers in the Fan, Tequilas Bad Advice, Lords of the Afterglow, Overdose of Destiny
Form: Rhyme

My Siblings' Father

MY SIBLINGS' FATHER
         JUDGE BURDON 


other children feared monsters under their bed
i feared the one living under our roof.
his hair was nimbus black 
with a storm's thunder in his voice.
his fists were freight train brown
ball bearing knuckles 
frostbite blue was his touch 
with empty icebox eyes 
his smile untrusted 
growling words spoken like tangled spaghetti 
he was my mother's husband 
my siblings' father

a childhood of baseballs never thrown
bruises and shattered bones medicated with lies 
happiness diluted with tears 
in a house with screams undetected
when asked what i wanted to be 
i testified "far from here" 

now, fiber optic home front news 
faceless words
cancer eating away at your life 
with the fury of a piranha
your disease now my champion 
fighting with the courage i was unable to muster 
your epitaph written in my adolescence 
while plotting your midnight homicide 

again you leave 
unaccountable for your actions
i'm left to wrestle with the demons 
not the strenght to forgive 
my memory too scarred to forget 
i'll keep the battle lines drawn
your monument 
let the puzzle piece fall where it may
good bye old man 
you'll be missed like a pit vipers bite 
your pain can no longer touch me 
from the grave.

Feel of the Rising Sun

Beyond the truth the lie exists
for whom you die for whom you live
you don't know but HE exists
you don't know but you believe
with immense faith from within your deep

Who, if HE is, we can not define
it is all what we call DIVINE
you don't know nor do i
but still we believe, why?

you can't see the Sun in the night
but you know that next day is going to be bright
but our night is very long
and the faith is diminishing
but still we are waiting for our night to be over 
with your ultimate blessings

the morning will be a fresh one
with all our dreams to past
the day will be a precious one
don't know how long to last

but the truth will slowly rise
and be at it's apex
and eventually go down the horizon
and we will again relax

i fear to come out of this dream world
it is the fear of unknown
as the night has lengthened and the dream has deepened
the fear has also grown

a few revolutionaries are to be found
who have felt the warmth of the rising sun
who have marked the history also
Buddha, Mahavira, Jesus : few enlightened one

don't bind your mind nor burdon it with shackles
what you think or are potent to think
may be a key to mysteries of ages
and may be a miracle.
Form:

Happy Ending

A mirror shows reflection
Yet can also be distorted

The sun shines light
Yet can also cast a shadow

A river flows and air gives life
Yet can also be polluted

Love fills the heart with kindness and joy
Yet that can be diluted

I try to think of something
That will put a smile on my face
I get off to a good start 
But then my smile dissipates
For some reason
All good things bring misery
All the love I've ever known
Always ends terribly
All the efforts I have shown
Prove to work ineffectively
All the years that I have grown
This happens repeatedly

Now because of this 
It's hard for me to start
A new relationship
And open up my heart
Once I realize I am beautiful
on the inside and out
A grey cloud comes
And confuses me with doubt
It's not like I'm asking for a fairy tale story
I just want some glory
And to lose my despair
I am so distraught
It's like I sold my soul to the devil
But I was never told
Can I buy it back?
I just found out that it was sold.

I hold the burdon of every bodies pain
To ease their tears 
Their pain is what I gain
Because of this I ask for just one thing
And that one thing could only be
Something called a happy ending
Form:

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