Long Details Poems
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From: Now That She's Alone
Story of a Man's Wanting
( the mention to play glissando
and to sing aria)
Do you know what to say
does it make you
wanna just walk away
seems it's clear to me
something more
obviously
maybe it's all in the song
those glaring melodies
something for ee
I swear it alluded me
Villainized by it's potential
scammed to be exploited
all in the attempt of bragging
such is easy for some
to ignore and
I sort feel
they wrote it like a song
maybe it's in the song
It's gotta be in the song
Stand dominates
it's all so complicated
sit down to see
the bright blue sky
the puffy pretty clouds
watch as they go by
when I stop my ponder
get my mind right
and understand
looking to my woman
reaching out to hold her hand
Keeping my lady Happy
Ya'll know I don't wanna be wrong
stop to read the lyric
Maybe it's in the song
Maybe it's in the song
Originally written in Italian
interputed into English)
He ate a Yankee Pastromi sandwich with
Russain dressing running down his cheeks.
I walked around our farm’s “block” one day,
Each side of which is a country mile.
Noticing details along my way;
Sights, sounds, smells, and feelings made me smile.
Cows in a pasture gently grazing;
Some glanced at me but not with alarm.
Now horses who at me were gazing;
Sensing, I felt, I meant them no harm.
I strode past a wood, hiding a deer;
Watched two squirrels clatter up a tree;
Crossed a bridge above water so clear;
Passed some hives but not one buzzing bee.
I smelled freshly cut hay in the field;
Farmer’s crops help him pay his lender.
Pondering the joys my walk did yield;
Loving this simple country splendor.
I'm a woman now. I have means to be
mean and get away with it.
He died—too fast for my liking.
I’d already hired a detective,
ready to face it—
or at least harass the details of the since-me
life he must have lived.
I've never spoken about it,
the last time we talked.
He called me from a pay booth
because his wife was home.
I answered on my plastic ConAir phone
because my parents were at work:
What did you tell them?
I told them nothing.
Nothing happened when I was gathered
in the room with the same advisor
who told me to use vinegar on my underarms
to stave off the stink of puberty the year before.
Has your mother ever talked to you?
The counselor, with the vice principal and nurse—
not asking if it had happened but if I knew
what it meant. Big of them to think
I had the right words for it:
Consort, statutory, inappropriate.
It's always ok if they’re in love, I answered
like it was still a hypothetical.
It wasn’t enough
to stop them from handing it back to me—
to let me deny it, file it away,
case closed, parents informed and unconcerned.
Even the police were relieved
there was no paperwork.
As if life seems to run through litter
Continued hits make life full of craters.
New ray of hope soon rising to glitter.
As optimist, be fit wishing fitter.
Don't lose confidence, hope never to yield.
Strong devotion - dedication to build.
Be competent explorer in your field.
Truth -honesty - labour to act as shield.
Adverse ambience is bound to alter.
In turquoise night to twinkle shiny stars.
Hope for the best ! Your nice days to enter.
Joyous Spring follows dull morose Winter.
Malice-enmity, always to disturb :
Don't allow mental peace to be perturbed.
Confront as a challenge, acting superb.
Take 'time', as best 'healer' : well known proverb.
Through ages humans are to discover
Pain of loss or grief, sure to be over.
From bruises and wounds you will recover.
No pessimism, proceed on endeavour.
On gift of recovery have belief.
At end of crisis, you will get relief.
Can be explained in details or in brief.
Behind cloud, exists silver lining in life.
Come to me now in our chance in reality
Please -I see you in all my loving dreams
I walk the paths - I seek the tomorrows
I know love so true - I know what it all
means
It's a lift in halo - it's rises up above
Shining it glows , the feeling I bare
The halo around my head - binds love
instead
Bound to be lovers - I am too bound
to care
I treasure love in mountains I do climb
Remembering as I wake details in my
mind
Surrounding myself with all those dreams
I hold tight I make it real that I find
My halo on my head lifting spirits high
Shining it still glows the feeling I bare
Building love instead - I ground life it
seems
Bound to be lovers - I am too bound to
care
The love bound brings my heart to a font
Building dreams still to pass my day
Seeking opportunity of your love my way
I opposed to defeat - loving to wake
The halo - wow ! We both really do gleam
Shining it still glows and the feeling I bare
Angels in the heavens and muse the
dance
Bound to be lovers -I am too bound to
care
In the mountains that we climb - we face
The trembling and the waters treacherous
We build strength and the dreams we
share
We stand on rock- beauty becomes us, it
does
Food packaging was once simple.
Ketchup came in a glass bottle
with a small cap that you unscrew.
Now we have plastic package new.
Man’s cleverness comes to the fore
to give ketchup a novel pour.
What clever gadgets we are sold
but there are details we’re not told.
Just the right squeeze is critical
from plastic bottle flexible.
Now if it’s straight out of the fridge
you must squeeze hard to get a squidge.
Then it should be allowed to breathe,
inhaling just from underneath.
But if you overlook this part
the next squeeze with a splat will start
and all around receive a share
as bright red splatters everywhere.
So next time with plastic ketchup
give it breathing time to catch up.
You have to know he is near, you have to know he is around
Perhaps sensing it in your fear or a feeling of being bound
You never know what he will do or what other things he'll try
But he's out to destroy you because he wants your soul to die
Again and again he'll attack seeking the easiest point of entry
Knowing all you lack helps in the defeating of one that's free
You walk around unprotected and don't even seem to care
The King of Kings you neglected and of this, he is aware
You he just wants to finish while you wander aimlessly astray
So the attacks diminish in just letting you have your say
Things go pretty well, theres no need to call for God's Hand
Soon you can't even tell what you can't even begin to understand
The one who seeks to destroy you is finally on your side
And on you he sort of grew in along with your pride
Yet you should know he is so near and quietly sneaking around
But you don't have any fear, for you haven't heard a sound
1 Peter 5:8
Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour
When siblings reminisce, it's strange
Which memories they share.
Though certain details match,
Exact comparisons are rare.
Two of us can almost taste
That soggy toaster bacon;
Yet the third one's positive
That we must be mistaken.
Other memories bubble up;
We reach into our brains
To see which scenes have disappeared
And learn what truth remains.
Reality is tricky, though.
What meant a lot to me
Might not have mattered to my sibs
To quite the same degree.
The beauty of reunions is
The chance to reconnect.
In reaching back across the years,
We can't be circumspect.
And so we laugh, excluding all
Outside our sibling glue.
We slip into our younger selves,
As siblings often do.
But I am not surprised to see
That distance, time and age
Have not affected what to others
Might be hard to gauge:
That childhood's bond, still strong and tight,
Which fills me with affection,
Will always be, at least for me,
A permanent connection.
Of love Devine
Now a soured story
Of love regrets that
Storys thyn
Mercy me :my rightous glory
Oh then shall sing of
Love Devine
With to one, ah one sided
Story
Love of Christ, thy a world
Subblined
Generations sing this story
Our Christ has risen from
the grave
Toils I make in all his glory
Some may say I am a
Bittered slave
Rewards from God
In all my glory
My descipns, now
all behave
Jesus , Jesus, Precious Jesus
The rich , the poor all
Behave
Jesus, Jesus, oh Precious Jesus
the miracles , Christ rose
From the grave
Have within thy triumph stories
Glory to thy God Devine
Yet ye speaketh with Satan's
Glory
Oh Folk of Christ might us all
Behave
Jesus, Jesus, ah steadfasted
Glory, victory Christ rose from
the grave
Jesus, Jesus, our triumph and
Glory,
Precious Jesus we all behave!
Oh dove of Christ complete thy story
Mire as I knowest not details
My affords of peace and glory
May off end the peace I seek
Jesus, Jesus of peace and glory
Seek thyn end in peaceful ways!
There is a music that weeps comfort,
Through the distance, in quiet moments,
Healing and blessing, reminding that His gentle grace
Will flow from the heavens, embracing,
Surrounding hearts with a lasting light – the source
Of love, His love…
There is a single tear, that whispers softly,
Through the spirit who listens
To the silence, the heartfelt lonely,
Blowing beyond the oaks and pines, in the forests
Of kindness, where He stirs the mind –
With feelings, beautiful…
There is the ghostlike echo, flinging wildly,
Endless prayers, who need to blaze,
Through the darkness,
Erasing shadows who aspire to reach the maze,
Trails of lessons, imaginations, amazed,
Singing to the soul with wounds, hearts broken
By the griefs, the regrets….
There is harmony in prayers, praises, blessings,
Shedding dewlike promises,
Lyrics wild like the roaring waves on seas,
Meant to bring the spirit incredulity,
Based on sunset tangerine, in buttery dreams,
While the azure skies secret stars,
Glistening in the inferno of a blazing serenity…
There is marvelous in the dance between,
Yesterday and circumstance,
Waltzing in faded feelings, mysteries,
Erasing the darkness, the night’s wistful
Melancholy, deaf to all the poetry
Found inside a leafy grace, a stem of faith,
Where life begins and hides each glimpse
Past memories, tell-tell signs,
Breathless signs of what is to come…
There is life in the yesterdays, the hues of light,
Falling past the memories,
Hesitating to believe the truth, trembling,
On the edges of sanity, silhouettes
Glowing, embers of lasting lessons, growing,
Messages from moments, history
Coaching the lingering yearnings to believe….
There is a song in each sleeping chapter,
Within this book of hopes and dreams,
Solitude beckoning from its destiny of charms,
Rewriting the moments, soft photos,
Fragile details in the shadows, selling joy,
Breathless thanks, heartfelt longings,
Breaking through the night,
Darkest moments just before the dawn…
When I tell you that I love you, my heart beats,
Like it is breaking, …
It never hesitates to assure,
There is a poem hiding in the lines,
Between you and me,
Between hopes and dreams,
Between the shadow and the light,
Between what is wrong and right…
When I tell you that I love you, my heart is breaking for you.