Long Delightedly Poems
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Once upon a time,
In a secluded, distant kingdom,
There lived a beautiful princess
Who spent her days carefree,
If not slightly impassive,
Exploring the palace gardens and
Dancing nimbly around the courtyards,
More often than not accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting,
The youngest of which had become
Her best and most trustworthy friend over the years, and whom,
Unbeknown to the princess,
Suspected she had fallen in love with her.
The princess's sixteenth birthday came, and there was
Great rejoicing throughout the land.
The princess and her best friend
Found it all rather amusing and tiresome when
The King declared that it was time
His daughter was married.
The princess took little interest in the
Many suitors who came to try and
Win her heart, though when she
Consulted her friend,
The lowly lady-in-waiting,
She was always sure to remark on
Which man seemed the kindest,
Who was the funniest, and
Which would provide her with stability and care.
Though, of course,
She privately dismissed them all.
So the years went past,
The princess grew more beautiful each day,
Beginning to make an effort to impress
The neverending stream of suitors,
Whilst her lady-in-waiting,
Silently saddened and horrified by her own desire,
Continued to enourage, comfort and love the princess
As the suitors came and went.
The princess laughed and kissed her friend, saying
No man could ever mean as much to her as she.
Then one day, a prince arrived at the palace,
One unlike any the princess had met before,
He smiled at her and she
Never sighed or turned away,
But merely smiled back.
The lady-in-waiting watched them
Explore the kingdom astride a white horse,
Dance delightedly together in the moonlight,
And she saw the prince
Encourage, comfort and love the princess,
And she blinked away her grief.
Soon wedding bells rang throughout the land
As the prince and princess held hands and
Spoke their vows,
The lady-in-waiting stood near the
Back of the congregation,
Smile frozen on her face.
She had no horse, of course,
She could not waltz,
She was a lady-in-waiting; a servant,
And the princess always marries the prince
And they live happily ever after.
There are no fairytales for fools like her,
And she is left waiting, wanting, wasting,
Without a hope of happiness,
And that's how the story ends.
LOVE FOREVER FADES AWAY!!!! wrote by Mrs.Madhavi
Waving like the sea,
Your decision was bias.
You ought to give me wedding ring,
But set my dreams on fire.
Can you answer me for the single reason, what made you do this?
Was it the beauty? Was it the caste, or the complexion?
You said I am your love at first sight.
You were the one who took the initiative and intended to keep it up.
You were the one who delightedly filled my heart with zeal of love.
You were the one who elegantly filled the warmth of love in my soul.
Confronted with an unsolvable dilemma’s where there is no right answer, we always know the answer to everything.
But what you did? You just made false promises.
Still you define it as the love, true love?
Or the love that vanished with no reason.
Answer me, answer me, my thee??
Near the bandra reclamation,
Sitting at the amusement park,
You were the one who excitedly expressed your thirsty feelings.
You were the one who stared at me without closing your eyes for a single second.
But you were the one who set my dreams on fire.
You said you will ask your parent’s for lifetime commitment?
But I will ask you one thing, if you feel your parents will understand and decide your love, then why you fell in love?
If you know that story wont line up with an happy ending, then what made you do this?
It’s just the pain you mounted on my heart. You just broke my heart.
When you blamed, that it’s the caste, it hurted me like hell.
Answer me my love, what made you do this?
I was happy being single.
Then, why you disturbed my life with no reason?
Then, why I got so much acquainted with you for all season?
It’s was so easy, that you picked up different slices of life but why Castism you did my almighty?
In the bruising darkness just left with ashes of memories, lying my face down in ignorance.
You broke my trust for all the life time in my way.
But still you left the happy prints, as a hope of ray.
It’s because of you, Love forever fades away.
But still left with the mementoes of yours, reminded me every day!!
I didn’t get on with my neighbour next
Door, he didn’t like me being happy
I’ll turn you into a mouse he said or a rat
Or perhaps a dog, or a skunk or a cat,
Fancy that, he is no magician, just a man.
I looked up at the clouds, rain came down
Landed on my lawn,
Each drop
Went plop!
I obviously drifted, I want to be an ant
I shouted at the neighbour,
And then I awoke
Well my neighbour turned me into an ant,
This is what happened.
Hey, watch out with that shoe whatever
You do, my neighbour walked around
with an ant spray,
Better not get in his way,
Horrible ant, he muttered, you are a pest
Sprays me, puts garden poison
Near my favorite rose
Not minding me,
And continues to water the garden
With his hose
I will drown, I’ll die,
I felt tiny, vulnerable and angry,
Made friends with the ant army general
Hear this he said in an authoritarian voice,
Our revenge will show
Ants will backfire at your evil sprays
And careless human ways,
We will multiply and grow big,
So big, that over man we will tower,
And expose our intelligent ant super-power,
Ants will run this planet,
And we will eat our own weak kind,
Engrave that in your mind.
Our anti human army, is organized,
Intelligent and fearless, and there
Are masses of us, never ending,
Ferocious and unbending.
We will be so huge,
Soldiers and more army ant soldiers.
And delightedly let off our fuse.
I froze.
I crawled to the grumpy old man
I begged him to make me human
Again, and promised him
And that I would refrain
And never deign
To show a happy face, and so
Once more human, I told him
Of the evil intention of
Billions of soldier ants,
Who would eradicate man and plants.
Not at this time, in this millennium,
Said grumpy, I kind of like you now,
Great job, you know their plot
Together we’ll eradicate the lot!
Crow's claws carrion campy carping
nsync nocturnal teenage mutant ninja turtles
analogous to scuttling
(think) browed beastie boys scarab beetle
brandishing sharp small scabbard swords
delightedly digging daggers deep
into deadened prey
rotting roadkill repulsively reeking
formerly (mere moments ago) once
fancy free and footloose
happy go lucky creatures
perhaps instinctively squirreling away
scarce winter rations
animals oblivious to danger
(i.e. despite matter of fact
courteous attentive driver)
former obviously caught within headlights
(high beams blinding) crosshairs
deerly beloved critters
natural longevity instantaneously doomed
unsightly splayed internal guts
displeasure welling up
against... me long time
licensed vehicular operator
(within keystone state – Pennsylvania)
loathes unintentionally destroying
moosed abominable creature
self anointed ingenious species/
genus *****sapiens
debonair bipedal hominid
eradicates, euthanizes, and extinguishes
innocent kickstarting life within blink
ousted arbitrary dint of virtue
smug simian ruler of realm
sowing seeds of her/his destruction,
not necessarily strictly,
cuz she/he unable to brake,
nor swerve away within timely fashion,
but brainstorm gifted
harnessing collective intelligence concoct
weapons of mass destruction
in lockstep with environmental exploitation
dangle the very survival
various and sundry (extensive) precious
living things unbeknownst to them
will soon become extinct
rendering highly radioactive
oblate spheroid leaving not mushroom
except opportunistic trumpeting
donning guise of: parasitic braconidae wasp,
fruit flies, cockroaches and et alia yon
mummichog, scorpions, and Escherichia coli
for jump starting Earth biota.
So what sane parent
would intentionally lead their family
into internal
or external war,
right?
Well, apparently former political
and religious extremists,
neonazis,
Islamic fundamentalists,
Christian fundamentalists...
Oh, wait,
I'm not sure their Republican White Nationalist
AntiDemocratic First Amendment,
kleptocratic and oligarchical Second Amendment
LeftBrain rabidly ballistic dominant
Anti-natural/spiritual nondualistic health intentions
are yet media-conscious enough,
yet, still, these fake-Christians among us
are visible as far too comfortable
with Mammon's military-industrial ballistic defense
So terrified of Sodom,
Parents for Terrorist Religious War
and Threat of FinalRapture Weapons
neglect to notice
their own naked butts
delightedly backing toward beastly Gomorrah.
Anyway, with or without reformed Christian NeoFascists,
Parenting for Peace
is against militarism,
possibly for the usual costly inhumane and environmental
and economic reasons,
but also because,
as mental health-recovering parents,
and grandparents,
and future great grandparents,
They see military-corporate theft
and associates
like colonialism,
and missionary zealous patriarchalism,
and sanctuary apartheid racism,
and homophobia,
and sexism,
and anthropocentrism,
and xenophobia
as corporate public health hazards.
Rabidity,
like subclimates of health,
wears both an internal, mental, spiritual face,
and an external, physical, natural Earth EcoSpace;
codependently negative, pathological,
as transectorally positive, eco/theo-logical
robust future health potential.
There are red and green snitchies in my fingers,
They rapidly chase me down my wooden hall.
Delightedly twirl me I into a mass with their zingers,
Eleven can quickly roll me into a giant ball.
An enormous blue green snitchie ball is on top of the frig.
Keeps me from going willingly into my very own kitchen.
Six are around the corner, laughing, playing lifetime bridge.
I can clearly hear the oldest craziest one britch'n.
I close my eyes and cringe, the start of every single weekend day.
Snitchies in my mind, making me feel like something is off.
Pink and lavender snitchies, yelling “hey, woman get up, hey!”
Grandma Snitchie is knitting an afghan, and I hear her cough.
I close my eyes and pretend I am asleep or dead or have had a fall.
Ignoring them in the nicest way, knowing how fast they can roll me.
Into a snitchie ball. Uncomfortable before I have bath-roomed at all.
My heart stops as I hear an army of them stomping down the hall with glee.
Their stories were charming at first, so I let a few in, but they got old fast.
I hold myself in a very polite “I am dead” sort of way, hoping they will leave.
Surely this Snitchy Colony they have made in my house cannot forever last.
They bounce me off and roll me up, so now I am sort of almost a bit peeved.
Guess what? We’ve made you our mayor, they yell happily.
I am excited, because I did not know I had even run!
I fly through the air and someone catches me quite snappily.
I giggle and laugh. Being the Mayor has made this semin-hostile Snitchie Take Over quite fun!
We woke up early to a 50 degrees morning….six o’clock to be specific
In order to make the 70 mile trip to Rialto Beach on the coast of the Pacific.
It was a two hour circuitous trip …since we had to be there by nine
there was no time to linger about
because Rialto Beach is only open when the tide is out.
The beach is known for it’s sea stacks…tiny islands standing free
once connected headlands…that long ago have been eroded by the sea.
It is also known for its tree graveyard…once tall, majestic now fallen trees
that storms have deposited on this coast
made bare and bleached by ocean winds…
against the dark sand…they now lie there white as ghosts.
Finally this beach is also known…once the tide recedes
for something very cool…
the starfish, anemones and snails that inhabit its tidal pools.
Walking in the deep and darkened sand…for two old people was a chore
but on we trudged because we were seeing things we’d never seen before.
People watching us struggling to walk up the beach…
might have cried out wistfully
“Look at those two old people…walking tentatively by the sea.”
But something wonderful happened to to us
every time we sat atop a ghostly looking tree
every time we saw a sea stack, a starfish or anemone.
With each new adventure that day we experienced along the shore…
we felt a little younger than we did a moment before…
Which meant people watching us walk back down the beach…
might have cried out delightedly…
“Look at how young those two old people look…walking by the sea.”
Glorious spring sunshine kiss my limbs as they sprout
With each opening bud, "I'm so alive" I want to shout
April showers cling to me as I drink each delicious drop
Hopefully chosen by blue jays to build their nest atop
Caterpillars and ants tickle me as they crawl to and fro
Nothing sweeter than watching everything around me grow
Come sit under me, take a break from the hot summer sun
Join me as I watch the baby birds leave their nest one by one
Let's marvel at the beautiful butterflies that flutter all around
The music of my friend the humming bird will surely astound
Smell the delightful fragrance of all the many flowers in bloom
Capture the magic nearby of a newly wedded bride and groom
I'm bursting with colors of yellow, orange, red, gold and brown
I proudly smile each time one of my leaves cascade down
Laughing children make my day as they roll in my splendor
You taking my picture makes this memory much more tender
Scurrying squirrels truly fascinate me, as my acorns they hide
Forgotten ones will one day be my saplings, I'll burst with pride
Snow flakes have delightedly dressed me in a suit of white
City folk string me with lights, I boastfully light up the night
Skaters whipping by me, their energy and actions are compelling
I feel so very blessed to have been rooted within this dwelling
Come and join in the festivities and beauty of each and every season
Become a memory on my branches, I can't think of a better reason
*Dedicated to the 50-80 year old trees in Gage Park, Brampton
OUR MASGOUF
The fishes have high wings, but they can feel our deep pain like sisters. Yes, we are the fishes’ brothers and any halo you may see in the dark night is a birthday of this brotherhood. Come here and see the seeds of this earth in an ancient Sumerian tablet, which its recipes were shining as the sun. In that Iraqi mud, you can see the smoke of our Masgouf and you may smell its exciting flavor. It is residing in our dreams like the moon, and we delightedly disappear in its perfume with the butterflies. The face of our Masgouf is pure, and I will be so happy if you can see its chants dancing as fairies at their small riverbanks.
THE MAGIC DOLMA
The small girls in our gardens knew nothing about the flowers or their breathtaking colors, but they are so efficient in making of magic Dolma. In the morning they meet a green dove, and listen to her chants. They are soft and pure exactly as our Dolma’s smiles. She teaches our girls the art of Dolma and the secret of grape’s leaves with a smooth voice and gentle hands. This Dolma’s master is so soft and deep, and she can color the girls’ hearts with the wedding dresses.
THE KEBAB GLORY
The Iraqis can’t live without war or Kebab, and can’t smell the morning breeze without their deep voices. Our souls were kneaded with the sad Kebab’s Sumac and the tears of war. Our dreams had immersed in the Kebab’s perfume and straggled in the desert of sad Sumac. Yes, you need the Iraqi sad smiles to find the Kebab’s sublime glory.
MICHELANGELO'S HANDS
When eyes delight upon a work of Michelangelo—gut wrenching art--
Creation by a mere man, from his enchanted hands
explode results of David –perhaps a heavenly message to impart
To the earthbound, scattered world flung far in lands
mountain wrapped, plain dirt plains or seabound rocky shores.
Vagabonds, they come to marvel by foot or cart. In awe they stand
before the stone made man. Walking through the door,
drawn to David’s splendid daunting beauty—his far gaze
imparts to the viewer-- in that instant, in this life there is nothing more
of beauty needed to be seen. Years pass, nights will follow days
yet thoughts of this wondrous creature never waiver, never fade
but haunt delightedly. What manner is there to praise
the artist for a gift so long lasting? Repeated thoughts played
reflecting David's beauty --and played again—durable throughout the years,
Clarified and Magnified in time, not diminished--when mind is disarrayed
suddenly a glimpse will flash—through grief’s unbidden tears
David will stand in mind’s eye, unchanged , ever manly strong--
beauty possible by stone conscience unblemished by dreadful acts or craven fears.
Thus it is --creation of a man who does no wrong.
Perhaps it is the reason Heavens blessed the world with Art
which reaches all-- both rich and poor--announces to the throngs--
Look to men of stone to find the rare and pure of heart.
Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
11/28/12