Long Chilling Poems
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Now the public library in our town contains the knowledge for mankind,
and there’s not much happening ‘round the world, that I cannot find.
I can think of any subject that I like and tell Jenny what I’m after,
and she can find a stack of books that darn near touch the rafter.
The library’s helped me countless times from days when I’m at school,
and I’ve become a handy man with books my back up tool,
but aside from books on lifestyle needs, on fiction some are geared,
and some authors write for little kids, and some write on the weird.
I’ve hired books about our history and read about some shocking wars.
Our garden is designed from books, and I’m obsessed with reading ‘Jaws’.
But crime became my new desire with cases filed from years gone by,
where Capital Punishment was handed down and why some had to die.
Description of the victims sent a chill right through my bones,
right to the guilty on death row with all their over-tones.
I read about their last few weeks, with how and why and where,
before they took their final walk to the electric chair.
One story written by a Warder based in a Southern US gaol,
is penned about a chilling case that for you I will unveil …
Leroy murdered seven folk; the warder wrote down in this book.
For twenty years appeals were held then Leroy’s goose was cooked.
When you’re with someone for twenty years, no matter what they’ve done,
you can form a slight attachment even if a fragile one.
So one week before that final stroll Leroy was asked by Warder Black,
if there’s something special that he’d like, and Leroy answered back.
“There is something I do desire - but it must involve me faithful wife.
“My wish is” Leroy grinned. “Is to eat her meatloaf now for life”.
Well Leroy’s wish was granted and for three meals every day,
he ate the meatloaf that he begged for while the hours ticked away.
On the eve of Leroy’s execution there was tension being shown.
The corridors were creepy now with a ghostly eerie tone.
Forgotten were the seven victims - in the morning there’s one more.
Leroy must face ‘old sparky’ waiting down that corridor.
His final meal of meatloaf was brought before him on a plate.
Said Warder Black with teary eyes “You don’t look worried mate!”
Leroy laughed “I’m not my friend, that chair won’t kill me man.
If this meatloaf couldn’t do me in - I know that nothing can!”
1
Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still burn
thine absence half a decade spent in vain
to break the bonds that tie, that fett’ring chain
that holds me from embracing thee, thyself in turn.
Thine all enchanting smile, piercing eyes–
thy flailing arms, the limbs, with rhythmic stroke –
responses soundless to the silent words I spoke
to thee before from thee Fate forced me from thy cries.
I watched thee grow through temp’rate times of yore –
remembering the gall’ry of my mind.
‘Twas all I had.
2
Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still ache
thy presence all too far in distant land
where careless arms push thee with calloused hand
away from mine where once I swore thee none could take.
Thine eyes with tears I shared I shed alone
so thou might never feel the agony
the anguish, loss of my identity,
thy father, thee my offspring, daughter, dearest one.
I watched thee grow through chilling times, and more –
remembering thy portrait in my mind.
‘Twas all I had.
. 3
Oh, gentle child, how doth my soul yet yearn
those many hours oft upon my breast
thy head thou laid safe harbor for thy rest,
thy questions, mind alert, thy hungering to learn.
Thy voice I hear through dreams and zephyr breeze,
thou lark by morn by eve the nightingale,
as Dawn and Dusk, Aurora without fail,
thou hast my heart and soul kept warm with ease.
I watch thee grow, and will, forever more –
remembering thy sculpture in my mind.
‘Tis all I have.
4
Until we are as one renewed
some future date somewhere awaits
when thou her servant dare to flee
that which with thee so long accrued
where here I love and there she hates
that wily witch who bindeth thee.
Break loose those prison bars that bind
thy tired wings that flap in vain –
Renew thy pledge at length to find
thy youthful freedom once again.
Then shalt thy flags fly high aloft
while eagles scream thy freedom song,
while robins chirp with redbreast, soft –
all a capella – pure and long.
Then both our souls shall share their peace,
a father and his daughter, found
to spend their lives on borrowed lease
to live and die on hallowed ground.
Thus, take, Tai-Ana, this, my prayer
that fathers and their children hear
of this solemnity
that children here and everywhere
ne’er shed a sad though soulful tear
for all eternity.
[Finis]
Where does my conscious go, when demons raise their fiery eyes,
They steal my very soul, killing all which is sanctified,
Engulfed by instant fears, no longer hearing loved ones cries,
The beast within appears, telling me I am justified,
I have already lost, no reprieve from my mortal sin,
All reason now is blocked, as I become the beast within,
No pity can I feel, as I make my grandiose stand,
Yes the horror is real, as I destroy all that I can,
Where do my feelings go, when demons raise their snarling lips,
Bringing an all new low, into my life now torn to bits,
Certain of being right, I flail and thrash as if in fits,
I threaten and I strike, with great fury the demon spits,
Yet I still stand and shout, my ugly hate and derision,
Accusing lies said out loud, revolting words - degradation,
Just look at what I’ve done, I scream my blatant confession,
Ready to blame anyone, for my evil molestation,
Where does my true love go, when demons raise their gruesome head,
Destroying all I know, without slightest hesitation,
There is no where to hide, hideous deeds - infinite dread,
Shame crushes senseless pride, nothing left but devastation,
Recoiling in horror, reality enters the room,
Now begins the torture, judgment of my now mortal soul,
The evil that is me, my conscious has become my tomb,
I look and all I see, marks my spirit and takes its toll,
Where does salvation go, when demons raise their awful screech,
Making damnation grow, as dark shadows envelope me,
How can I persevere, and escape from this demon’s reach,
For he is always near, and may kill eventually,
Cold and chilling insight, I now realize what is at stake,
And the one path which might, protect the ones I truly love,
But how can I just leave, this world I worked so hard to make,
And cause even more grief, for family and God above.
Where does my resolve go, when demons raise their deadly claws,
Tearing at all I know, stealing my conscious care and pride,
I can’t run anymore, all is destroyed everything lost,
Now beaten tired and sore, I’ve lost my path into the light,
Who can I reach out to, when all I love recoil in fear,
Eyes beseech black and blue, where once was love - now only hate,
Yes I know - I’m the cause, the reason for each falling tear,
And while demons give pause, I must face my terrible fate.
Form:
Exracted from Gerald Nforche's Epic, The Slave's Tale
-Duala, RIOS DOS CAMEROES, 1787-
One fine morning, when love birds flew and sang
And the valleys with every gaiety rang,
The sun just setting from a misty east
We had visitors from the waters’ midst.
Our fishermen were out spreading their nets
Though broken, could entangle fish’s legs
When they saw at the horizon, approaching
A large house, like none ever seen, smoking.
Smoke exited from large horizontal
Mouths, like some fire within wood and metal.
Very huge flapping leaves hung on large ropes
Made us shiver, staggered with every lope.
And as the large house ebesse approached
Our fine archers were ready for the broach:-
Scouts scanned from the nearest hill and informed
The djanewa for any quick reform.
Village criers had announced the fall ’f war
Within which those who could lift arms no more,
Women and children wide-eyed with fear
Were evacuated to our secret lair.
And in the waters deep ebesse stopped
Emitting a loud cry: come watch us hop
Our blood about to clot from our within:-
Wood and metal kicking, crying in the wind.
Many canoes splashed into the waters
And creatures with sacks fell in from ladders
And rowed towards us, towards our very shores.
We kept the watch, canoes following a course.
Minutes soon, at the very shores they came
We watching baffled, belligerent lame.
Fifteen they were, hairy, brown and long nosed
Not unlike pale pigs in the valleys noosed.
Large brown bowls perched on their massive heads,
Noted by us as they poured out in herds
From their dancing canoes. Pipes hung from mouths
As tobacco was devoured and feet jingled loud.
And we understood they were some traders:-
We had heard their chilling news from gossipers
Who’d spoken of the magic of these men
Who had come by wind, traded and returned.
And from the gossip that ran a-wild,
We‘d gathered the name made for them from sight:
They looked burnt, like they were once like us
We called them mokala for we were at a loss.
With the prodigious group were our brothers:
We shared the same skin, they were no rioters
Save they spoke with mokala like mutineers:-
We watching, bemused straining with all ears.
A troop marched forward expressing might
Mokala watching unsettled, wide-eyed
Befuddlement on their very black lips:
Pity spelled in their eyes, daggers on their hips.
Champion of Creative Freedom
The mind is a boundless realm, where thoughts take flight,
Craves the open sky, bathed in freedom's light.
Confine it with rules, a cage for the soul,
And stifle the spark that makes humanity whole.
Creativity's flame, a beacon so bright,
Burns with innovation, banishing night.
Art, music, and verse, a symphony bold,
Challenge the stagnant, stories yet untold.
Think of the sculptor's dream, etched in lasting stone,
Or the poet's fierce quill, where injustice is overthrown.
From unfettered minds, revolutions take wing,
A vibrant tapestry, progress' joyful ring.
Advocate for Boundaries
Untamed freedom, a stormy sea,
Can drown reason's voice, a chaotic decree.
Without boundaries clear, a compass to guide,
Art descends to chaos, where meaning can't reside.
Vulgarity rampant, a cacophony loud,
Erodes decency's ground, a shroud for the proud.
Should creativity trample on all that's held dear,
Traditions and values, held sacred for many a year?
Imagine a sculptor's chisel, carving hate with each blow,
Or a poet's warped verse, where seeds of discord grow.
Freedom needs guidance, a gentle hand to hold,
To channel its power, stories are wisely told.
Champion of Creative Freedom
Boundaries, yes, but not with an iron fist,
Let them guide, not suppress, where true genius exists.
From the clash of ideas, new truths come to light,
Diversity's chorus, a symphony bright.
Let dissent be heard, a questioning tongue,
For progress thrives where challenges are sung.
Censorship's shadow, a chilling embrace,
Stifles the garden, where innovation finds its place.
Advocate for Boundaries
But freedom unchecked, a garden choked with weeds,
Where potential withers, on the fertile ground it feeds.
Let responsibility guide, a filter refined,
For the power to create, a gift for humankind.
So let us find balance, a harmonious blend,
Where freedom ignites, and guidance befriends.
For creativity's flame, a force ever vast,
It needs a channel, a purpose, to last forever.
Both Champion of Creative Freedom and Advocate for Boundaries in Unison
The unfettered mind, a treasure to hold,
A canvas for stories, both brave and untold.
Let us nurture its power, with wisdom as a guide,
And create a future, where humanity may truly confide.
A is for Australia, full of weird beasts,
Where even the cute ones can bite you at least.
B is for Brazil, where football is life,
And people dance samba with joy (and no strife).
C is for Canada, polite and so nice,
Even their insults come with advice.
D is for Denmark, with pastries divine,
And a happiness level off the chart line.
E is for Egypt, land of the old,
Where mummies stay wrapped and pyramids hold.
F is for France, where bread is a dream,
But don’t ever mess with their wine or their cream.
G is for Germany, beer, cars, and might,
And sausages eaten at morning and night.
H is for Hungary, but don’t get it wrong,
They have food so good, you’ll eat all day long.
I is for India, spices galore,
Curry so hot, it’ll knock you to the floor.
J is for Japan, sushi so grand,
And toilets that clean you with jets on demand.
K is for Kenya, safaris so wild,
Lions just chilling while tourists get riled.
L is for Luxembourg, tiny but strong,
You blink and you miss it, but hey, it’s not wrong.
M is for Mexico, tacos and cheer,
But don’t trust the hot sauce—it burns for a year!
N is for Norway, fjords and cold air,
And prices so high, your wallet will swear.
O is for Oman, deserts and heat,
A land where the camels take naps on the street.
P is for Portugal, wine and the sea,
And a love for Ronaldo, as strong as can be.
Q is for Qatar, money so high,
Even their ATMs wear suits and a tie.
R is for Russia, where vodka is king,
And winter is long—it lasts through the spring!
S is for Switzerland, chocolate and banks,
And watches precise to time all your pranks.
T is for Thailand, food spicy and sweet,
With beaches so dreamy, you’ll never want to leave.
U is for Uganda, gorillas so cool,
Living their best lives, just breaking the rules.
V is for Vietnam, coffee so strong,
One sip and you're jittery all the day long.
W is for Wales, with sheep on the hills,
And words in their language that give you the chills.
X is for Xianggang (Hong Kong's other name),
Sky-high buildings and dim sum the game.
Y is for Yemen, ancient and grand,
With mountains and history spread through the land.
Z is for Zimbabwe, Victoria Falls,
Where nature goes big, and adventure calls!
—
So that’s the world, from A to Z,
With laughs along the way for you and me!
The darkened sky had hid the sun,
I bravely fought the storm to come.
Its voracious voice roared
'Til reached its peak.
The time had come for me to seek,
The chilling call I'd heard all week.
From the deepest place that lay within
The old orchard wood.
When the stillness stood,
I took a chance, then firmly
Stepped off the porch,
To see what would become,
During my walk through
The old familiar wood.
To learn of things I'd yet to know.
Starting out it was slow.
I noticed first the new, green grass.
Filling in, standing firm, straight and strong,
Each tiny blade found its spot, still becoming.
One was small but adding up, all became an
Armor, an umbrella.
Where stood weaker things til ready
To learn of things too young to know.
A sudden gust of wind, blew across my face.
Taking me back in time.
A memory flashed across my mind, when I was small
I yearned to grow to learn those things too young to know.
An unyielding foe of future days,
When good was in, love was plenty, yet
Needed still my own umbrella.
Protecting me against the ills and woes of things
I had yet to know. My heart beat harder the deeper
I went into the old orchard wood, then,
Attentive in my listening,
Til in the middle of the wood,
I found myself
Where it was full of busy-ness,
Fallen leaves and such,
The colors richly touched with hues of light among the tones
Of silver stones in babbling brook, here lay the heaviness.
Of daily deeds which lay the seeds that would become tomorrow.
Where joy is sprinkled in amid our sorrow.
The day had come to learn of things I had yet to know.
I knew my learning had just begun.
The biggest fight, the one within ourselves.
We grow our armor by choosing hues of light against the dark
Of tones we speak or build to keep
Out the darkest hues that hurt.
Choosing carefully our fate by keeping kindness daily in,
While sweeping hate away and out.
Then under our umbrella keeping safe those smaller ones
Who are too young to learn of things they cannot comprehend.
The past is done and those I loved are lying still and sweet.
While I am here alone.
To fight and figure out
Those things I need to know.
Before it's late, my sun will be down, when
I can no longer walk and learn those things that have yet to come.
That are upon the path, which lays
Deep within the old familiar wood.
Pity my city
I pity my city there is no dignity in this city
There is no justice no freedom
Street children in a locked hall, shocking
County council overworking
The city must be clean so some humans are garbage
Some are cabbage, the garbage pay the damage
No houses sleep on spillage
But there are human rights
There are human right activists
There is the department of justice
All filled with malice
Pockets practice
Gross malpractice
Injustice, silence
You are in court
Guilty of court contempt
Another charge
The bail or the sentence
I’m bailed out in silence
Next time just bring your presence
Retain your silence
I was told
You will be safe.
My phone is gone, my shirt is torn
No bus fare so I walk alone
I think a lot, go back home or not
I remember I am a poet
I write a poem, a paradox
Pain in the city
I pity my city there is no dignity in my city.
Never what I came for
Likewise not what I prepared for
To be robbed by those I voted for
I am not happy anymore
My city is no more
I don’t wish for more
I just want go
not the city I know.
not where I wanted to grow
cartels make us bow
Now, now, now, it is time.
Time to know I am grown
And carry always my identity card
The men in blue are out bad
And always never forget also to carry ‘kitambulisho ya polisi’
Hawa watu ni mabeast na mafisi, human hyenas
time to tie up my seat belt whenever in a matatu,
sina mia tano ya kulipa coti kila saa na sitaki kulala ndani siku tatu
two days I am locked up inside my own head
spinning spinning, my thoughts are dead
the life so far I have led
no step has been made
no journey finished
No house furnished
Time is running and broke is sickening
My heart is listening, my brain is calculating
I have to act quick, just do something
The weather so good for chilling, but bad for singles
Life is unfair
No dream has been real
No love to heal
No feel
No deal
Just the bill
More and more bills
The city is fattening
Wanjiku is sickening
From Nys to health to Tunnels
It is all on the channels
How they on the seat eat
Meat
The citizen kitty is gone
The city is torn
Get the president on the phone
Call the press, what must be done be done
Impunity will not rule this city
Dignity must be restored
This city no more a pity
Bring back the citizen kitty
Say no more
The city.
Eulogy
Sing eulogy, O wind,
Crying out the sorrow,
Howling deep within your zephyr,
For branches where you once entwined
Your restless fingers
Into a joyful melody of rustling boughs
In lyric song;
Hear now, as you pass, only memories
Floating on the air in search of forest arms
Where once the lullaby of giants
Spread like peace at eventide
Over every creature who daily felt
The vibrant, primal heartbeat
At the mystic center sustaining life.
Sing eulogy, O wind,
When you rush across the empty mountainside,
Where once the titans of the century welcomed you
With lofty grace as you orchestrated
Their symphony of seasons come,
Your searching swell frantically seeks for
Playmates of a thousand years;
Your cannot reach out with your arms
To lift the sparrows and the robins,
Nesting in their wombs,
Upon your wings
Nor cool the squirrels hiding beneath their skirts
Of rough, red bark;
The hillsides where you sang with grandeur
Lay as hushed and as chilled as marble tombs
That decorate man’s passing;
Death walked upon these paths
Leaving in deep chilling footprints barren hills to raise their
Voices in a wailing rage
Of mournful sighs on desolated plains and mountain slopes.
Sing eulogy, O wind,
Look upon the sun warmed earth,
Your friends with whom you shared the secret words
Of your song,
Who whispered with your every murmur
By lifting up their giant faces
In gratitude for the winter’s gift of sleep
And summer’s rain,
Lie still;
Your shout of mourning unheard,
Death closes up their ears to all
But it’s eternal dirge
And though you long to caress
Their lifeless forms,
They cannot feel your loving hands
Upon their brows
In a final gesture of farewell
Before they leave their forest arbor
Still abounding with their perfume -
The myrrh of burial for guardians
Whose life protected life
Where shadows intermingled.
Sing eulogy, O wind,
Then weep,
No resurrection for companions
Until the earth revolves
A thousand times
Around the sun
When they repeat refrains of joy
In creation’s pristine voice
With you –
With woodland peers –
Their voices silenced here to ears
That heard their chanting
And now must carry in the silence
Of their souls
A seed of memory
To tell the future’s child
A fable tale of giants
Passing now away.
Old growth redwoods now gone.
Written: July 09, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Jump in the cool water for a chilling time.
Where worries are forgotten and spirits climb.
Watermelon treats, juicy and sweet,
A taste of summer is a delightful feat.
Bright fireworks burst into the night sky.
Colors explode, captivating the eye.
Dances under the moonlight; bodies sway.
Lost in the rhythm, worries decay.
Days at the beach with sand between your toes
Building forts, surfriding, and life's worries oppose
Sharing an icy treat among friends is so sweet.
Memories filled with laughter and light compete.
Blast in the sun, revered time with loved ones,
Building bonds and connections, as rays from the sun.
Splashing and playing, the water's embrace,
Cleansing our souls, leaving no trace.
Sun-kissed skin, a golden glow,
Feeling alive, our spirits are aglow.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore
A symphony of nature, forevermore
Seagulls soaring high above
A reminder of freedom and a symbol of love.
At this moment, we're all connected.
Nature's beauty is never neglected.
The salty breeze, a gentle caress,
Whispering secrets, we're truly blessed.
These moments reassure us daily.
Splashing into icy water is cooling and gaily.
Refreshing and revitalizing, a much-needed break,
From the chaos of life, an escape we make.
Watermelon treats, a taste of pure delight,
Bringing joy and laughter—a summer's sweet bite
Bright fireworks burst, lighting up the night.
A kaleidoscope of colors, filling us with delight.
Dances under the moonlight, bodies intertwine,
Freedom in movement is a dance that transcends time.
Days filled with beach activities, laughter, and cheer
Creating memories that will forever be held dear.
Sharing an ice cream visit with friends is a simple pleasure.
Creating bonds and connections that we will always treasure.
Blast in the sun, making memories that will never fade,
Moments of joy and laughter in the sunshine we wade
Valuable time with loved ones is a gift we hold dear.
Creating a bond that will last year after year.
So plunge into the cool water, relish the dulcet time,
Indulge in watermelon treats, oh so sublime.
As bright fireworks burst into the night sky,
We'll dance under the moonlight, with spirits high.