Long Dane Poems
Long Dane Poems. Below are the most popular long Dane by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dane poems by poem length and keyword.
Anxiety about what I might think preceded me
As I sat on the stool in the middle of my living room
Ready to think about who knows what,
I relaxed for a moment and then closed my eyes.
Gratitude and peacefulness were my first feelings.
I smiled inside thinking about how literal Ingrid had taken me.
He remembered that I intended to write at 3:00 a.m.
As the clock ticked, Ingrid kept time for me…
Fear crossed my mind next, afraid of my own thoughts,
What they might be. Nightmares. Horrors.
Repressed experiences dreaded.
But thankfully, the ringing in my head saved me.
At least for that moment…
A few things slipped in. The Jeffery McDonald murders
That took place when I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C.
The horror had anguished me on an off over the years.
Then, I heard the crickets again. Thankfully.
Next, a hit and run accident that was reported in the news years ago
Flashed through my mind…anxiety from Army days.
It had happened on a road we sometimes traveled.
Fear, reality check, and cricket sounds followed.
Yes, it is that cricket sound that I enjoy so much.
It took me to the natural world in all its beauty.
Little seeds germinating in my sunroom...
Crickets outside making their noise; I smiled again.
And the crickets in my head chirped.
I was thinking that this isn’t so bad after all.
I have learned to find happiness inside myself
Then, Ingrid said, “Time’s up.”
I felt relieved.
© March 1, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
My DARE: Dane, you picked Dare* I dare you to sit in the middle of your living room...
(on a chair if you have toooo!) Close your eyes, and feel for 5 minutes... (you will need a
stop watch that alert you when the 5 minutes are up. During them 5 minutes, you have
to feel everything, allow your strong emotions to feel. Even if you have little one's are
running or your cat is purring at your feet. Don't allow it to bother you. You have to
concentrate and find that one spot in the back of your mind. The part that digs real
deep into every feeling we forget is there. After the 5 minutes are up... Sit in the spot
where you write, and write for 10 minutes, Write about every thought that passed
through your mind in a poetic way, sad~happy~ mad, crazy.. and so on... Take us deep
into your mind... Thank you..pd
Confession…I wrote more than 10 minutes…time slipped up on me.
In regard to human's such abject abyss and absurdity, we can't help questioning: can human still be indulgent in the virulent vainglory having shaped their pretentious and dangerous preconception of a human-centered and human-dominated cosmos? can human waywardly go on with their ecologic vandalism having already triggered the macrocosmic nature's wrath and punishment? In fact, all their perverted precepts and practices have spoilt or to a large extent countervailed the hard-earned results of their positive efforts. ( e.g. vaccine development, treatment of the infected)
As can be seen more often than not: Overloaded hospital wards and overwrought medical workers are outflanked by waves of overwhelming epidemic peaks, and the process of vaccination popularization outpaced by the viruses' variation and proliferation. Indeed, human's arrogance, ignorance and particularly conscience absence have estranged them from one informative sense: The best remedy is the due respect for the macrocosmic nature that nurtures the entire universe and the due reverence for her sovereign system that really dominates every being and everything living or working inside her domain; The best vaccine is the virtue of taking all harmless lives kindly and taking kindly to the nature's heartfelt call for every bio-community member's benign ecofriendly behavior.
Having ironed out the aforesaid reasoning and arguments and having made clear our firm attitude and stance, we hereby urge Spanish, Dutch butchers and especially the Dane banes:
Stop your criminal and cruel cull without delay, do not engage any more in any activity that may bring us extinction, mass toll and physical or psychological harm, let us resume enjoying our old habitat safe and calm.
We also want to extend our exhortation to all of the human being: Make a thorough stock-taking of the circumstances of correlated infection-prone species and overall epidemic aspect before renouncing your previous evil ways and recommitting to building a livable eco-environment and lovable bio-community. Only after the strict imposition of precautionary disciplines upon your daily behavior, would there be a promising future of fine faith and fair fortune for every existent being under the sun, of course including yourselves; In the bargain, would come genuinely effective epidemic-controlling & prevention mechanisms for yourselves.
One December Night
(Continuation to the End)
All that year Santa had hoped and had tried to find a child's love that would strongly abide.
But month after month he was given the boot. It didn't matter whether he showed magic or
gave them some loot. Many children were selfish. Not one gave a hoot.
Until one cold blizzard night, in a stormy plight, the frog rang the doorbell and walked
right on in. In the warmth of the house, after ousting the mouse, four children accepted the
frog for his good. It was a happy sight for the frog there that night. Yes, they showed him
great kindness and genuine love, the
spirit of Christmas shown down from above. The purest of love without expectations turned
the frog into Santa who promptly gave each one hugs. “I'll be back with my sleigh to leave
gifts on Christmas night. Thank you dear children for your gifts of love tonight. Leave me
some cookies. I shall eat no more bugs! He laughed as he juggled three gifts in the air.
Then, soon disappeared out of sight by the moonlight.
The children, still laughing and squealing with joy, had broken a spell put on Santa
last spring. And the mean old witch that had made him a frog, sat sadly outside all alone on
the log. She had made him a frog with a croak, out of tune. She wanted his voice instead of
her own. Christmas carols she had heard bring so much joy. She could not carry a tune for
one single song. She had hoped she could sing if she stole Santa's voice. But the love from
the children left her no choice. The spell had been broken by love's sweetest choice.
But while they were happily playing about, they noticed the wand from the brown bag lay
out. So they went to the witch and gave her a voice. And taught her that goodness over bad
is a choice. So together they played with the now happy witch. Who gave up her evil and to
goodness did switch. The gift of pure love and light in the world is a gift to all who give
heaven a whirl. For even the wickedest of wicked have some goodness in them. So,
encourage the right and to evil say, “Take a flight!” (And let God be the judge…)
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009
Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes!
Sponsored by: Constance La France (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)
i'd just been declared surplus to requirements by my boss
with bloodshot eyes i plodded home completely at a loss
oblivious of my ex-secretary's commiserations
mum's late stage cancer portended impending tribulation
what bruised my heart was my boss' betrayal
his reward for my being unflinchingly loyal
my mind raced to dad's Dane gun, and a well knotted noose, and lethal pills
just one good hot and my sorrows will cease
somehow the thought of my fiancé filled my mind
she was of heaven-so gentle and kind
i'll stay for her. oh such a dear!
i whistled generously, passers by stare
the angelic fiancé turned out a fiendish spouse
she wouldn't cook, she wouldn't work or even clean the house
my income vanished as it came and it was all her effort
she also nagged whenever i offered mum support
but it was her promiscuous lifestyle that often drove me senseless
young, old, rich and poor; she was just so shameless
my limit was reached the day i caught her with my erstwhile boss
homicide was the easier bet but i settled for divorce
to my utmost dismay, the judge added the burden of alimony
to the same unfaithful villain who had wasted my money
worse still outside the courtroom she gave a parting shot
"you were definitely the worst of the lot
even the old judge was much better than you
as was the vicar, the postman and your valet too"
i regained consciousness in the emergency room of a hospital
where i got to learn that my condition had been fatal
somehow, i had consumed some capsules of arsenic
i was just so lucky to have been found by Nick
with tears streaming down my face
i told the doctor all about Grace
for what seemed like ages, he stared blandly at me
then with lips quivering, he said these words to me
“this morning my wife and children were slain by a suicide bomber
i was all set for Israel when you were brought in coma
my duty is to save lives, so i couldn't let you waste yours
life may be mean to us but someone else has it worse
adversities are like batons, you must get them to win a relay race
sorry you just got divorced but therein lies your ace
being alive gives you the chance to get it right again
your ex-wife's loss will be another maiden's gain”
FOR GOD’S SAKE
When living "...of the world" despair unfurled.
I lost sight of heaven’s glorious pearl.
Truths shouted out from the depths of my mind.
God’s loving whispers to me stayed entwined.
Higher education became my goal.
Scientific teachings soon took its toll.
My mind strung out on various theories.
My soul, in doubt, became very weary.
But faith persevered and earned the prize.
My trust in God was more realized.
Despite what seemed to be a worldly life,
The soul of me soon felt less strife.
A professor asked my Evolution class,
How can creationism truly be? Alas.
Scriptures say God created…in seven days.
Right? Who shall rule in this duel of ways?
The Bible contradicts itself, He said.
His words from there, down doubts highway sped.
Evolutionary theory is certainly logical.
Creationism seems to be mythological.
Then came the clincher, clarity disparity.
The Bible says God created in seven days.
After the seven days, confusion starts to blaze.
First it says it’s finished; then, it starts to haze.
During that lecture, I was compelled to know.
Believing God created; what did the Bible show?
I prayed to grasp truths as man’s theories grew.
I did not choose to tell faith in God adieu.
At that moment, nothing else mattered.
I refused to let my faith be shattered.
That professor, on that day, changed my life.
My golden goal grew to be God’s true light.
Creation pondering absorbed my essence.
A lifetime flew without great wealth’s presence.
I was blessed with children; around them joy revolved.
But there was no rest until those questions were solved.
Strongly stayed upon life’s different path.
Even, when disrespect judged me with wrath.
I loved my children and bore the wait.
Seeking, the answers congealed…my fate.
My life was spent pondering this topic.
When finished, at last, truth embraced God…logic.
Then, my soul found rest from its weary state.
Thus, in the world…not of the world, I wait.
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
March 10, 2010
Poetic form: Free Verse
The results of the pondering are posted on Redbubble.com =>
http://www.redbubble.com/people/daneann/writing/3355478-genesis-decoded
For complete discussions, go to =>
http://www.redbubble.com/people/daneann/writing/3479742-bridging-the-gap-between-
science-and-religion-the-hypothesis
We were taking our nightly walk in suburbia.
Every evening after dark, the same routine-
Well, that night we were in for a surprise
Every light in the neighborhood went out!
Right then, I slipped off of the sidewalk.
Excruciating pain radiated from my ankle.
Even though I could see nothing, I reached.
Never had I felt so helpless, in my life.
Just when I was about to lose my balance again, I felt his hand.
Obviously, he saw that I needed help, I, screaming loudly.
Yet, again he calmed me, pulled me close, and held me.
I knew we had to look at my leg.
Not that it was broken, but probably sprained.
Getting home seemed like it would be impossible, ominous.
Almost apocalyptic!
Strongly, he shouted, “Come on, we’ll make it if I have to drag you.”
To my surprise, I felt his big hairy hands grab me.
Right as I was about to sink to the ground again,
Over his shoulders I was tossed!
Like a sack of potatoes, I hung there…not walking.
Laughing inside because I knew I was safe with him,
I clung on for dear life!
Not knowing what was next, and scared.
Ominous thoughts began to flood my imagination.
U. F. O. s appeared in my mind’s eye…abduction!
Reality turned fuzzy.
Nuclear invasions by aliens seemed factual.
Explosions boomed all around.
I Screamed, not with pain, but with terror.
Gasping, I cried, “Get me out of here! “
“Hurry, please!”
Blackness everywhere and he looked at me weird.
Oh, how I wished for a flicker of light.
Raw fear was overpowering reason.
He, on the other hand, seemed to brave it well.
Often, in the past, he had shown courage, too.
Oblivious to the real world, I pounded his back.
Delighted to be safe, although half upside down!
Just then, he started hysterical laughing.
Usually, he was calm in every situation.
So, I wondered what was going on.
Terrible thoughts intruded; even shadows frightened me.
Practically frozen with fear, I could hardly breathe.
Afraid my heartbeat would be heard.
Sane, but wondering if I were crazy.
Trying to talk, but my voice kept cracking.
“Desperately,” I shouted, “Look up in the sky!
Aliens are coming to get us. We are going to die!
Reassuring me, he said, "You are going to be all right.
Keeping hope, he took me down the dark streets to the hospital!
©February 18, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
My father had been out of work for way too long.
At night, I often heard him and mom weep
Food was scant, but love was strong.
As was that hunger pain when I lay to sleep.
My little brother was too young to understand.
Still a babe in arms, he brought our only smiles.
I loved to play with him and hold his tiny hand.
It seemed to take away the hurt from life trials.
Then, one-day dad came home all excited.
He was talking so fast, grinning from ear to ear.
He said that our future was well fated.
That we were in for adventure was clear.
It was that new ocean liner, the Titanic.
Dad had been hired for the maiden voyage.
We were going along as his sidekick.
A family destined for American homage.
In just five days we boarded that ship.
Immigrating was a dream come true.
Accommodations would be a hardship.
But it was worth opportunities…new.
Dad worked as a scullion in the restaurant.
We were housed on the lower deck.
It was a very crowded lodgment.
We stayed together until the shipwreck.
Sirens were screeching people screaming.
We could not find dad anywhere.
Was he locked up as a cageling?
Could it be true; was he trapped down there?
Lifeboats were being lowered.
Mom held my brother, crying.
Dad must be somewhere cloistered.
We all feared a dreadful dying.
Someone put me in a lifeboat.
I reached for mom as it descended.
The Titanic was still afloat.
But my family separated.
The water was freezing.
I had forgotten my coat.
People crying, sniffling, and sneezing.
The lifeboat soon became an iceboat.
Within a few hours, death began.
Shivering, I crawled beneath two corpses.
A young girl destined to live without her clan.
Hidden from polar breezes.
That was the last time I saw my mother.
My mind holds the image clearly.
She, calling for dad, was cuddling brother.
Oh, how I loved my family dearly.
When rescuers finally arrived.
I was the only one alive in the lifeboat.
Beneath those bodies, I survived.
Then, I was wrapped in a warm coat.
I never did see America.
I was sent to an orphanage back home.
Life had dealt a great trauma.
Forever had sunken in the ocean's foam.
© April 9, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: My heart will go on and on.... Free Poetry
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
One December Night
Mama, at the oven, was taking cookies out. When she turned around quickly to see what
the shouts were about, the cookies started sliding. And almost hit the floor. But the frog
took his wand from his sack by the door and started to say magic words galore.
“Alacafrogsky majikazam, make those cookies go back into the pan.” To everyone's
surprise, those gingerbread men stopped in thin air, reversed, took a spin. Then headed
right back to the pan again. Wide eyed, that is when the family realized that the frog at their
table was not like other frogs.
And while doing magic, the frog said to the mouse, “You better start running, and I mean
fast right out of this house.” And as Dad, with his broom, was about to lower the boom, the
mouse left the house wearing a great big brown mouse frown. Then, Dad with a smile and
real puzzled look put the broom down and the frog's hand he shook.
At half past mid-night on that cold winter night the frog and his magic brought one family
delight. So, he stayed and ate cookies along with the girls. And he took from his bag, lots of
toys and some pearls. He gave each one gifts. Then, closed up his brown sack. But as
he headed for the door, together they said, “Wait! Come back! We have a gift for your
sack!
He turned around fast with a twinkle in his eye. Then, the children ran to him with hugs
and with sighs. They gave him big kisses. He smiled deep inside as they put one big gift
marked for Santa in his bag.
All of a sudden with no warning at all, a bright cloud of sparkles surrounded the frog.
Magically, right in front of them all, they discovered that the frog was not a frog at all! In just
a
few moments, when all of the sparkles were gone, there stood Santa Claus. Had something
gone wrong? His face was delighted. He had a big smile. All of the elves hiding began to
come out. Those tiny little people sang loudly, and danced. “Santa is back. They have
broken the spell. Be sure to go everywhere and tell, tell, tell!"
(To be continued...)
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009
Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes!
Sponsored by: Constance La France (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)
A span of questions fogs the mind of man.
Some famous thinkers wonder; is there God?
Was man formed by chance or by divine plan?
If not by God, the Bible is a fraud.
Yes, Big Bang Theory through men’s minds does scan.
They may look at the world, like Adam, awed.
But the soul inside of me screams out, shouts!
The heavens pout when science leaves God out.
The Genesis account tells all minimally.
Man’s creation took God seven days.
If God’s creation to you seems flaky,
Consider that account in diverse ways.
After God rested, Earth life was empty.
Book one of Genesis says seven days.
Confusion says, “Look, a contradiction!”
The faithful say, “Find the explanation.”
Day-one atomic parts were organized.
God’s energy… orderliness began.
In great wisdom light and dark were revised.
Thus, light waves, sound waves, no waves as per plan.
Day-two divisions, has man theorized?
The waters were divided; place began.
Oh great expanse where suns-stars would soon shine.
Small things, together, all workings divine –
Day-three was the day for the seeds and trees.
Every species received traits by God’s hand.
Combinations of genes since then proceeds,
Day-four set the stars in the skies as God planned.
Our Universe became at lightening speeds.
Big Bang explains it to the human strand.
The Genesis account once known minimally,
Curiosity sees maximally.
Day-five, the day for birds, beasts, and creatures,
The genes were created, but not yet formed.
Every being received unique features.
The Powers of Almighty through space stormed.
Day-six: man, woman, genetic rapture.
To God’s great wisdom, creation conformed.
By these thoughts, my faith was persuaded,
That scientific fact has the truth, aided.
Day Seven, the day of blessings and rest.
God looked upon his goodly creation.
It was self-sustaining, working its best.
All forces, features, and facts did function.
God had laid the foundation for man’s quest.
However there was still much to be done.
He rested, time passed; creations seasoned.
Is there a God? Yes, for I have reasoned.
Ó January 26, 2014
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: In the faraway! (Old/New)
Sponsored by Giorgio V. Motiff Philosophical
*Genesis Decoded: http://www.redbubble.com/people/daneann/writing/3355478-
genesis-decoded
Okies silly one now I want a verse about an old broad who thought she was a flamingo!
(BIG SMILES Thank you for the fun challenge!)
“She Thinks She is a Flamingo”
“Me hablo espanol.”
Yes, you heard it right.
I speak Spanish. My feathers?
Oh, beautiful, the gracious sight.
Long. Fluffy. Pink. Bright!
I am not just any flamingo.
Although I do speak…
Flamingo lingo.
I am Chilean born.
Never am I forlorn.
Seldom in control...
See! “Me hablo espanol.”
Are my bloodlines pure?
Why do you ask?
Am I totally sure?
Finding out is NOT my task!
Gallivanting in Galapagos.
Extinction was the rave.
Feathers? No!
Permanent wave!
Lying on the beach.
Tying my tie.
It was almost out of reach.
Use good manners and speech.
Fresh shrimp in a bowl!
“Si! Me hablo espanol.”
Does it really matter?
Bring me another platter!
Oo la, la! Or yeah, yeah! YEAH!
I just want to say.
I’m flying to a party.
Good Ole U.S.A…
I love to boogie-woogie.
But the Cha-cha is in my veins!
On one leg, I tried to prance.
Did you say, “Dance?”
The shrimp I love to eat
Make a very special treat.
They turn my fluffy feathers bright.
But never stink my feet.
What is the link?
Bring me the mirror.
I want to see myself clearer.
Wild hat! Sun glasses!
A little bit fat! What say you?
I am NOT a flamingo?
Then, what? No! Not the jacket, again!
Again? Ha, ha, ha, ha…
She thinks, therefore she is...
NOT a flamingo!!!
Fun, silly challenge accepted! How did I do?
NOTE: Thankfully, my pain medicines end. Post-op medications did not send me this far out
there. Sadly, however, there are people in the world who really do SUFFER from endless
mental delusions and other mental illnesses in varying degrees of severity. We must keep
them in our prayers. Mental illness can be very debilitating. Although this was written with
fun in mind, reality must NEVER be ignored. God help us remember, respect, and show forth
love to our fellowman in need. I LOVE YOU SOUPERS! My days are uplifted because of your
creative wisdoms and kindnesses. Poems are good for the world. SMILES belong to each
one of you. Lovingly,
Dane Ann
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 16, 2009