Long Cooled Poems
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People in my school have names for someone like me.
Freak, crazy, weirdo, a spawn by the devil's decree.
I took note of every malicious word they ever spoke,
knowing that before long they'd no longer make me a joke.
None of them knew how truthful were their mocking words.
They had no clue I could spread my wings to fly among the birds,
with ravens that caw out for blood at the stroke of each midnight.
I'd fill their haunting dreams with images of daunting fright.
A snip of dried herbs, a pinch of fungal root, boiled in fat of fowl,
a concoction for me to savor, secreted to me by my mother, an owl.
Eyes that see through bloodshot color, they would see them too
when the full moon was high and the sky turned dark cobalt blue.
No help will they receive from a scream or gyrations to be free.
They soon will know they should never have made a mockery of me.
The time is near, my brew is cooled, now it's my time to have fun.
Tonight their dreams will be nightmares, a gift from the evil one.
With their eyes closed, they will envision they are being chased
by hundreds of bloodshot eyes, the likes of which they've never faced.
Black robes adorned, scepter of wormwood waved from my hand.
Eyes... wild bloodshot eyes, will seek vengeance at my command.
Fog advances to the bedrooms of those who sleep in peace.
My adrenaline is pumping, just a few more minutes until release.
A snarl of satisfaction I feel curled upon my blood red lips.
You won't belittle me again with your taunting nocuous quips.
NOW! I gave the order for the eyes to creep into their dreams
But my heart is beating too fast. This was not part of my schemes.
I can't see a bloody thing. What's happened to the spell I cast?
How long will this blindness torture me? How long must it last?
A truant officer was sent to see what had become of the freak.
Through a window he saw many ravens, all with bloodied beak.
No body was discovered. All that remained was a robe of black
and a note scratched upon the floor. "Too late to take it back."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
December 26th, 2015
Deep and Dark Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Across the valley
Stood the mountain I believed to be id
Two levels and a summit
Made it appear layered
Like first-dynasty pyramids
It would be a long climb
Step, stumble, slip,
Clutch and elevate my entire being
The valley’s simple green plants
Lived in symbiotic coexistence
With bees and ants
Nature nurturing nature
An embryonic journey
Between the Tigres and Euphrates
Such splendor might have caused me to remain
Many do
But I walked on
At the base of the mountain I paused
The summit hidden by a cloud ring
I looked back upon my Mesopotamia
Hailing its verdant simplicity
Questioning the summit’s worth
But uncontrollable curiosity
And unquenchable desire
Edged me forward
I climbed onto rocky soil
I stumbled as stones slipped ‘neath my feet
Reaching out to clutch a bush
I pulled upward
The first plateau ran before me as a brook
I peered into the pool of life
Finding amphibians, reptiles, fish
I waded
Ankles rubbing green algae
Creating eerie sensitivity
Slippery touch
The water cooled me
Thinning air brought calm
A sandy bottom soothed me
Such harmony might have
Caused me to remain
Many do
But above me
Within a mystical Saturnic cloud
Secrets of the summit beckoned
Edging me to elevate
Sweaty palms grasped a wild rose’s stem
Sharp thorns drew blood
My body fatigued, I cursed the climb
What marvels lay above the ring
The second plateau’s diversity thrilled me
Simple moss, brown rabbits
Deer with long, willowy legs
Hundreds of life forms
Gave me entrance
To Thoreau’s untouched paradise
The alluring cloud hung low above me
I questioned my destination
The second plateau’s oasis might have
Caused me to remain
Many do
But irresistible desire
Again edged me to step, stumble
Slip, clutch and elevate
I entered the cloud layer
Feeling hot and cold dancing vapor
The mountain I believed to be id
Swam under my feet
Perplexed, I muddled upward
Above the timber line
No trees, no grass
No plants, no animals
No life
Still I was curious for id
And took the final step
A cold granite peak
Amidst the grey moisture
Self-realization was achieved
I had seen all that was beautiful
But passed it by
The key to paradise was offered
Three times
Yet I had been a martyr to my own desire
I could not see
The valley, brook,
Or paradise of total life
I could see
Only myself
And I cried
For want of something beautiful
It took some heavy digging and a lot of clever research.
But scientists have now explained in full detail how evolution works.
Finally it all comes together after much debate and so much time.
(To appeal to the little 'uns they even told it in rhyme).
"And from the mud-baths of primordial soup we came to be.
Rising from the currents of a ginormous boiling sea.
Once things cooled down a bit, leaving cells with room to breath,
things developed quite gradually,
as each individual body part became part of the team."
The Mouth said to the Ear:
You there! Get your Butt over here!
What the Mouth didn't yet know, however,
was that that the Butt was still processing
in some foul smelling black ether.
(Just ask Nose and he'll tell you clear as day,
that smell was nothing short of risque.)
Mouth's voice was very muffled you see,
lacking the Ear's wondrous ability
to take in sound.
You could see it for yourself if you wanted too
(still Eyeball was no where to be found).
Somewhere along the road the Head came rolling down.
He had great determination in his jaunt,
though those big gaping eye-holes were sure to haunt.
And after a two million year nap,
at long last, the Elbow and Knee Cap
came oozing their way from the horrid soup.
Once attached to Mouth and Vocal Chord, they beamed,
"Pee-YOU that reeks, if Stomach were here I'd surely turn green.
One sure develops an appetite after a billion year fast.
If someone doesn't throw me some grub I don't think I'll last!"
After such great struggle there was still so much to be done
Feet and Legs were still in a hot sweaty run
trying for a thousand years at least to find Crotch and Torso
(To make matters worse they needed Esophagus to get re-hydrated also!).
But after all that I think you will find the struggle worth it.
What great things can happen when we're all so close knit.
We're not perfect yet, as you can see, evolution is a work in progress.
Things could always improve, it just takes time to process.
One fellow man of science inquired a rough estimation
of just how long it would take to grow wings
(some bickering was involved, due to his ridiculous proposition).
The real concern is however being totally ignored,
of which I think you will be completely appalled.
It will probably take another 17 billion years,
at least, to get the Brain installed.
I had planned to weather the storm until the break of dawn and hibernate in my shell until the wicked is dead, but it kept lurking behind the door with manipulative words trembling on its lips and banging on the roof and shouting profanity in the street.
I curled tight into my shell and watch the night unfolds while destiny watches my spirit grow and the tiger waiting at the stream to derail my hard-earned dreams has frozen in the cold.
The night was dead silent and not a sound could be heard except for my breathing and my heart beating, I pinch myself to see if I was alive and I hit the side of the wall to find out if anyone was inside, but everything was flat, and the silence kept them composed.
I don’t know how long I could bear the agony and the isolation groaning in my belly, my adrenalin began to run high, and destiny began to thunder in the sky. I knew that something was about to happen as the vision began to widen.
I tried desperately to take my mind off it and focus on the energy flowing from the cliff, it engulfs the space around and lifts the tension that was blazing in my gut. This was too true to believe I felt light as the breeze and the cold air penetrate my clustered space. The night continues to bear its silent penalty and I tried to enjoy its luxury and my spirt became one with the night.
I stood in my shell and stare at the night enjoying its own company and all of a sudden, I felt an uncomfortable feeling moving in my belly and the sensation of the universe embraced me.
No one was there but I did not fear, I thought I heard a knock on the door and turn around to see what it was and in one split second, billows of smoke start spreading in the sky and the trees began to die.
Several explosions burst out on the ground, and it brought the entire city down. Night came alive and the multitude of people start running and screaming and buildings began to topple upon building and the choir in the distance began to sing. Fire blazed through the city and purified the street and at last the mission was complete.
Mankind has taken us to the extreme, but destiny has unfolded in my dreams and the new Jerusalem was born. The fire cooled down paradice make them wealthy and witty, and they finally got the discount.
Our severe pain is unforgivable at eternal night.
I twist over, my brain hustling with mystic insight.
Cries made me exuberantly sad, letting my sting.
I felt bound that could never be fit of stirring.
Your gloomy yell penetrates the serene quietness.
Leastwise, I realized you'd befall a whiner pitiless.
You've arrived at my most prominent gateway.
Once again, it roused me up, as it had all sultry day.
I let forward a puncturing shout of agony.
Once again, I will not scorn the cease eagerly.
And reject the thoughts mugging my reasoning.
Grasp my once-living voguish is promptly dying.
The blade was in a distinct area to my brawny arms.
Reverberations of our ultimate hug hang my eyes.
Such much sorrow stuffed into a cramped space.
And all I lack is to regain a place in the audience.
I'd wisely prefer seeing genuine compassion.
Except for me, everyone is in repletion.
Afterward, why are you pounding on my door?
I was dodging, similar to the mild night before.
I'm going to have you removed right away.
It happened as soon as it was made defray
My supplications and asks for salvage were unmet.
I'm mindful of our dreadful period once onset.
How random do you admit your mentality?
But voicing regret isn't enough in this vicinity.
Remember me for a type of contact with you.
Sorry for the hassle, yet my choice is too true.
It was vital for me to do what I did.
I couldn't stay with you anymore; I want a slid.
I needed to awaken and concede my misstep.
That you'd follow me until the night with no pep.
We can scarcely improve anything right yet.
And I must say I'm right from the outset.
For the time term, "I'm apologetic" will not vow.
You've broken my soul and granted me a bow.
You can't undo the wrongs you've done.
You didn't opine over what you shun.
You had the only choice but to perform this.
But our relationship has cooled an abyss.
Can't you consider your acts have altered you?
Supporting for my freedom to cognition blew.
However, it needed lasting by till ends survival.
Rusty mind that deadly sins were unforgivable.
Written: November 11, 2021
''U'' Contest, New Poems Only Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
A storm was ending outside my door
The last trillion drops just fell
Lightning flashed and thunder roared
It truly seemed like hell
Then up I looked and saw a drop
Falling hard and fast
A tortured route with many turns
I hoped the drop would last
I watched it fall from all that way
It’s purpose clear to see
While it fell from way up there
It only looked for me
Still some ways it had to fall
I could not tell its fate
Then it lit on my warm lips
And did promptly evaporate
I kissed that drop as best I could
And I told it what to do
“You have a single task”, I said
I told it to find you.
I sensed an understanding there
I think my request was clear
The difficulty of the task
Was really my only fear
Then in a whoosh the wispy gas
Was swept up in stormy winds
Up, up and away it did ascend
And mix with its other friends
The steamy vapor climbed aloft
And commingled with common sense
It met up with others of its kind
Where all cooled and did condense
I wondered if the other drops
Had missions assigned to them
Or were they there for company
For my little liquid friend
There were hazards large and small ahead
The way the trip would go
Frigid temps could make it freeze
The drop might turn into snow
The wind could take the little wisp
Along the wrong direction
And then the little tiny drop
Would never make the connection
But things went well the trip took days
It had no special fare
It simply caught the global winds
And said a little pray
That it might find its way to you
Across mile after mile
And with some very special luck
It might get to see your smile
The little drop is now very near
It’s looking down for you
Avoiding lightning, wind and more
Trying to make it through
Now this drop that fell before
And touched upon my face
Begins its spiral down again
Moving at quite a pace
Dodging weaving through the clouds
This drop did make its way
Gaining speed and size of course
But would it last the day?
Suddenly the ground came near
And the timing was so good
There you were looking up
Just as we knew you would
The little drop had come at last
From clouds way up above
It alighted on your warm lips
And kissed you with all my love
Look at the floor of heaven
Laid with patterns of bright gold
For us, they are but little orbs
But in his motion
Like angels, they sing
So many songs of harmony
To the souls of immortals
And while this muddy vesture of decay
Does gross in them
We mortals cannot hear it.
Hold your fortune for your bliss
A gentle scroll
A diamond ring
All gone
Loss upon loss
Life upon life
Death upon death
Pain upon pain
A man of the people
The villainy the beasts taught him
That he executed
Until things fell apart
Judge him not
And mourn him as a legend
Chinualumogu!
For whose sake
The Arrow of the gods granted justice.
Christopher Okigbo called them beasts
David Diop called them vultures
For me
They were weeds on our soil
Colonial masters
Who awakened our sleeping lions
Achebe threw the bomb
And died before it exploded
This cooled his friends
And awakened his enemies
They laughed at his losses
And scorned all his gains
He sought no revenge
Yet his silence scrapped all nations
Thwarted their bargains
And with two heads of fools
He repaid them for one
And then There was a Country
He chose not what many men desired
And rejected the barbarous multitude;
Crystallized the inferiority complex
And fought back to back
For Africa.
No ill luck stirred at first
No tears but of our shedding
No sighs but our breathing
Various creditors sprang
Enemies arose
Yet he'd give up nothing for the wilderness of monkeys
Nor for the generation of wolves
An ambassador of love rarely seen
His pleas were for the taunted and corrupt
And with his graciously seasoned works
He obscured the shows of evil
What damned error!
But some superior would bless and approve it with a text
Hiding the grossness with faint ornaments.
Look on beauty
And you shall see
It is purchased on the weight
Often have you been told
That all that glitters is not gold
Farewell, the hope of Africa
For now, your suit is cold
We love and miss you
But our prayers with you shall be
Oh, Lord!
Arise and await
For his gentle spirit
Unto you dear God
Commits itself to be directed
The Beautyful ones are indeed not yet born
But the born indeed are most beautifully precious
Adieu Albert!
A serious question was posed to me recently.
Where do you go?
I said…
Well, I wait for the darkest, clearest night,
go to the highest point on the highest hill
and watch for the shooting stars.
And I make a wish.
…and I fly through the sky like an airplane
no, a bird, not just any bird, the Wandering Albatross,
I glide, for hours without the thought of touching the earth,
or even flapping my wings.
That’s just too much work.
…and sometimes I’m just
there…
…and I soak in the salty water of the Atlantic Ocean
waves of warm liquid rushing over me,
trying to pull me under the moistened sand.
Dead Crabs and broken shells at my feet…
…and sometimes I stay there…
…and I am a child at the fair,
the aroma of cotton candy and funnel cakes in the stagnant air
and I’m on the top of the Ferris Wheel observing the ants below.
…He’s watching me; he’s always watching me…
…and sometimes I’m there…
…and I’m running with Alice;
because this little white rabbit with a watch is apparently late for an important meeting;
and we’re like, “What’s the hurry, little rabbit?”
Rabbits don’t go to meetings… do they?
…but sometimes I don’t go anywhere…
…and there is this girl,
she smells like sugar, corn syrup, and sweetened milk,
warmed for four minutes and then cooled and wrapped in wax paper;
it’s Halloween and we’re teenagers… and that’s her favorite treat; and I’m awkward…
…and her voice is a song… and I’m stupid…
…and her hair is a soft fire… and I’m ugly…
I need her in my life... I mean, I did…
…but she’s gone now…
…she’s moved...on…
…away… from me…
…and I go to a place where I am an alien,
and the Martians ask me questions, like,
how are the hot dogs in New York City,
or is Chicago deep dish pizza to die for?
…have you ever had southern BBQ?
…and are earth girls really easy?
And we laugh… Yep… we laugh…
…me and the freaky alien voice in my head…
…so, I laugh daily and always let everyone know that, I’m okay…
Because…
Sometimes, I am there…
I mean … sometimes, that’s where I go…I go back there…
…I’m trying to grasp a hold, gain control over the fear, anger, self-hatred…
…gripping me in the places
…he wasn’t supposed to.
Eugene Finley
In the colorful region of America where I was born and raised, the colors of the rainbow were the same as elsewhere, and they amazed us always.
The number of beautiful rainbow colors is said to be between five and seven. Scotty saw red, orange, and blue; green, yellow and indigo were seen by
Stephen. The American flag on a white pole also flew with stars and stripes of red, white, and blue. There was never the lack of colors, but the rain showers
and cool breezes were often overdue. Many winters brought us snowflakes that were clean, cold, eatable and white like all the rest. The magnolias were lively and stunning, and weeping willow trees were simply priceless. The colorful features of people were mostly shades of red, brown, black, and white. But there was something about the social ways and mores that wasn't quite right. The human psyche was consumed with complex ideas centered around color, it seemed.
Caterpillars and other earth moving equipment were orange. Combines, cotton pickers, and tractors were mostly red, but the John Deeres were all green. There were other vehicles that followed, but I shall never forget my father's blue pickup truck. Dad often took us riding all over the countryside, giving us another view of the mire and the muck. On most days the sun was bright and hot as fire, and by sunset, it cooled and turned reddish orange. But for miles and miles from spring through summer, there were green fields of coveted cotton.
Come Fall, those same green fields of cotton, whose leaves were caused to fall, turned white. And also by then, the fields were dominated by brown, as the bean, corn, hay, and wheat were harvested.
When I pause to reflect on bygone years, I recall that there was some dismay and people generally had their say. The skies were mostly blue and earth colors mostly green, but people were real with very few areas of gray.
08272018PoSoupContest, Colored Memories, Craig Cornish
I was a red-violet, sunny morning person, usually up at the crack of dawn,
When orange light poured from the east, upon revival, dewy green lawns.
With a cup of aromal coffee, I'd watch yellow sunrise creep in the window,
Enjoying the zestful song of red robin, while night and day were in limbo.
I would take walks at the golden hour, flooded in light, just after a sunrise,
In the serenity of wanton, floral summer, slowly unveiling a destiny prized.
Visits of friends were features of morning, for sunup fondness is infective,
As flowers soak up colors of white sunlight, telling of the new perspective.
Family and I fascinated flaming sunsets, fancy dancing like we had forever,
At evening fetes, long fated; like feathery, dark green ferns-wind treasure.
I lived in the house of taupe sunrise, always trending towards golden noon,
As fitful stars, flickering like fireflies, stay on course, in presence of moon.
Sunhats, sandals and pretty sunflowers, were summer sights on my street,
In tranquil days of wild seas, giving the selfsame roar, as it cooled hot feet.
Nearby stars gleamed like natural pearls, on nebulous nights of neighbors;
And the natural conversation flowed nonstop, like the whistling wind labors.
Bat orchids awaited watchful moon, yearning for caves among field flowers;
When ballerina orchids danced, entranced, by plum shadows' magic powers!
Crimson corpse flower was blooming, in a torrid wake, held in lazy summer,
And snapdragon seed pods imitated skulls, where future flowers slumbered.
One day dawned exceptionally beautiful, a sight bringing rapture to my eyes;
As plum and orange, merged with pink, gold and red-fleeing night disguised!
I went about my productive work, but I noticed the day did not seem to age,
Like a glorious history book caught open, when distraction didn't turn a page.
Although I was very puzzled, I relished a pause for precious, pretty mystery;
Like the lovely, floral pause of gemmed hummingbirds, in times of blissfully.
After several long and rapturous hours, testy time gradually began to move,
For a beginning ever looks towards the end, as if it had everything to prove!