Long Eats Poems
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A thin blade of Light—
slips into the bruise no prayer can mend—
and still I cup it softly in my hands—
though the ache within me widens—
a hollow that refuses every remedy—
yet longs for tenderness like rain on my lips.
The heart keeps calling out—
but its rooms echo back with famine—
and Silence takes the shape of my companion.
There is a hunger no dawn can quiet—
an emptiness that eats the edges of Joy—
while Hope,
flares small as a lantern unseen in a storm.
Still—we chase the Radiance—
though it burns and never fills—
and we, the trembling witnesses,
write our name in the dark.
Form:
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
singed by sullen Sol, not stayed by Poseidon's hand;
aflame, aflame, the tall ship burns, see the masts ignite.
Unpenitent the sky rains ash blackening the night
the fire sends a smoky pall upon the sea and land
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Fire eats the air, it snuffs man's breath, death maybe their plight,
yet, all hands come to the Captains call, his to command
aflame, aflame, the tall ship burns, see the masts ignite.
Hell's inferno's come a calling on this sun lit night
a foul wind blows, the fire roars, and so the flames are fanned
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Without their ship, the crew were lost, debtors they'd alight
they went up like straw scarecrows shriven by the brand
aflame, aflame, the tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Burning cinders catch the dock, the workers run in fright.
Pain and heart ache fill the wharf still they must disband.
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
aflame, aflame, the tall ship burns, see the masts ignite.
See About the poem
Grrrr WOMEN they drive me mad!
We were due to go on holiday
My wife said she was on her way
I’d got the car engine running
I waited
and waited
and waited
But my wife Marcie was on the phone to her mom
Marcie had INSISTED her mother lived in our granny flat
Why couldn’t she pop next door to say goodbye…
Going on holiday is the only way I can escape from the old bag
Still at least she’s looking after Mitzi our Chihuahua
We arrive at the airport just in time ….
Marcie walks ahead in a cloud of Chanel No 5 perfume
To me it smells like cat’s pee
but if it was good enough for Marilyn Monroe she HAS to wear it
Unfortunately I had chosen the only trolley with the wonky wheel
That darn trolley has a mind of it’s own … it must be a female!
The electric doors open and close like see through curtains
I struggle with a mountain of three suitcases, but only one is mine
And half of MY case is taken up with five pairs of Marcie’s shoes
Tell me guys
Why does a woman have to pack the kitchen sink ‘just in case’
One small suitcase is FULL of her make up
Gee I hope she remembered to pack the trowel with which to apply it!
At the check in desk we discover one of the cases is overweight
Yes … you guessed it – its mine with all her bloody shoes in it
I have to stump up thirty-five dollars in excess baggage fees!
What a great way to start a relaxing break...
When we board the plane things are no better
Marcie moans about the cramped seats
She has to ask for a seat-belt extension
telling the stewardess the seats are smaller than those the last time we flew
Maybe if she lost a few pounds that would make a difference …
But of course I hold my tongue
Marcie moans about the noise as we take off
She moans about the aircraft food but still eats every mouthful
She complains how tiny the toilet stalls are
her huge butt doesn’t help but I hold my tongue
As we are landing she says how much she misses her mom and the dog
THAT WAS THE FINAL STRAW
Next year Marcie and her mum can go away
I’m staying at home with the dog!
06-12-17
FORESKINFEDORA FOR POETS WHO IDENTIFY AS MEN
Sponsored By John Lawless
Annabelle Albatross’s amazing aquatics astound audiences at Atlantic airshows.
Bill Beaver’s barrel-rolling barely bumps bobbing buoys.
Crustaceans crowd cramped coves. Charlie Crab cowers, camouflaged creatively.
Dennis Dolphin dives deeply dragging down desirable delicacies.
Elegant electric eels electrify everything. Edgar Eel eats extensively.
Fancy Fanny Flounder flaunts fluorescent fins.
Gigantic gems glisten, giving George Guppy giggles.
Henrietta Hippo holds hands harmoniously hugging Henry Hippo.
Isabella Ibis is inching inland. Infant Iris Ibex idles indoors.
Jeremiah Jellyfish jests joyfully. Juvenile jellyfish join Jeremiah.
Kibitzing Kingfishers keep kids kicking. Katy Kingfisher knits knickerbockers.
Luminescent ladybugs land lightly. Light-hearted, lily-white lizards lounge leisurely.
Many manatee move marvelously, making mini musical masterpieces.
Noone notices ninety needlefish nestled neatly near nets.
Oscar Octopus ogles Ophelia Octopus openly. Ophelia observes Oscar’s oddities.
Pretty Penny Platypus playfully poses.
Quirky Quincy Quail quickly quits quacking.
Racy Rhonda Rattlesnake ran races ‘round round racetracks.
Sassy Sammy Salamander snoozed silently, snorting sand.
Tarsiers traverse terribly tall trees trying to track tiny termites.
Unique umbrellabirds update unclear unicorns under umbrellas.
Voiceless vultures vacate very vivid vegetation.
Wally weasel watches walrus’s wade, wisely waiting.
Xena x-rayed Xyli Xenops.
Young Yuri Yak yelled “Yuck! Yogurt!”
Zombie zebras zip-lined, zealous zookeepers zig-zagged.
Started July, 1996
Finished Feb, 2018
You reach inside to tell your side of what lifes all about.
But your afraid that what you'll say will make the people shout.
So once again until the end, we stay behind the wall.
Where only couth knows honest truth to keep us from the fall.
But deep inside where you can't hide you always know the answer.
It eats you up until you die just like an unknown cancer.
A silent scream inside your dream awakes you with a shock.
Your heart has opened up your eyes to all the falsehood and the lies.
As you are left there with your fear as you try to take stock.
You keep on digging with broken rigging and just come up with coal.
That feeds the fire until you tire of reaching for your soul.
All burned out, you start to doubt that anything is real.
No matter if you are devout, you can't trust what you feel.
Being human has it's cost, an endless sense of being lost.
Cause honest truth just remains cold and cannot thaw the frost.
Forgiveness from the man upstairs because he's shown us that he cares.
Is how the contemplative man will survive as he sits and stares.
Across the Atlantic ocean
They have a pedantic notion
Quip us Brits have a frantic lisp
Did slip..meant to say chip not crisp
Semantic antics causing a commotion
Misunderstand our land’s devotion
To the sensory explosion that is a crisp
So why the linguistic demotion
Respond to across the pond & beyond
Have donned a wig of blonde
Seem fond of being conned
They need to be told
The reason Brits abscond from the fold
Will break the mould
Skip this blip and let rip
A chip is hot and if not.. is cold
Such umami gold is actually factually
A crisp!
Our gung ho American foe
Will still go & crow..
Blimey those slimy Limeys
We’re the aficionado…so no bravado
Must surely know a chip is always
Made I’m afraid of purely potato
(unless I guess if its chips at a casino)
Displayed for trips in dips
Not just crud dud spud chips
Bud..could be made of wheat
Sworn am often torn
Could be swayed by corn
Synthetic aesthetic can’t beat
Heart attack in a pack food p*rn
If Polenta is the mentor.. its a chip
But if some parsnip you did flip
In oil then it is definitely…definitively a crisp
Got a hunch that if for
Lunch.. earlier at brunch
Or just for a munch
Thick or thin as a wisp
If it does go crunch
Then it’s crisp
Not being trippy.. dippy or too lippy
Don’t be hasty and haughty
Nothing beats..tasty treats
Seriously salty.. deliriously naughty eats
That's why we say crispy.. not chippy
P.S ..The only crispy beast feast
Where’s there is no hackling
Tackling or shackling
A snack as a chip or a crisp
No cackling…is when it’s crackling
Oops somehow a new row hatching..isn't
Fried pig skin..a pork scratching
But Colombian cronies are dispatching
Such phony baloney..there's no matching
The show ponies that are chicharrones
There's this little fuzzy wuzzy bunny,
Who all year round eats loads of honey.
Now you’d expect his tummy to be runny
This fuzzy wuzzy little bunny
However, the honey has an adverse effect
And when I tell you, you will not like it I expect
The poor sod suffers from severe constipation
Until he feels a bowel movement sensation
He seeks a discrete place to release
The load that make him look obese
His baked in for a year in his tummy
The poor fuzzy wuzzy little bunny
With his hind legs astride, bunny squats just a bit
Knowing the pain he has to suffer when it's time to have a sh-t
First, come out as little pebbles then follow the great big boulders
The kind that gives him the feeling his been split from his a-se to his shoulders
He chews grass as a medicinal lozenge
To numb his a-se that now looks like a blood orange
Fuzzy wuzzy little bunny knows it all over when he lets out a great big fart
Then picks up his mess discretely and hides it in isle 14 at Kwik Mart.
Don't think everyone eats
Because you eat
Or drinks clean water
Because you still can.
Don't think everyone has a bed
On which to lay their head
Don't think there's a stove
Like yours in every household
Houses hold stuff.
Some people walk
With all their stuff -in bags.
Gotta sleep with
One eye open
Glad to have eyes.
And there are more and
more out
There with nowhere to be.
Cannot stand nor sit.
Glad to have a cell
Jail is their
Hotel. If lucky.
Don't think that- that bath
You took is "par for the course"
Think outside of your door.
Look outside of your window.
Laaaa deee da laaa dee da.
America isn’t happening no more
Now you lay it down to sleep,
Praying for your soul to be kept
The shorted verse is, “Jesus wept"
People sleeping
On the ground and floors...
Even the shelters are closed.
How long can you hold on?
Facing the elements and the sun.
Living on the edge of hope.
Kill you for a bar of soap.
No medical nor food and now neglected.
No control over your own circumstances
Children no longer protected.
Living off others and depending on chance.
No one to give
You that human touch
Dog eat dog.
"look at her"-
"She over der eating"'
Some have nothing
Some have much.
So much that;
They are not in touch
with the new reality.
"America ain't happening no more".
Singing la la la la..
Attacks on the ones
who have too much-
Jealousy rises if you eat a lunch.
So just keep walking through
Singing- la dee d da la dee da.
Hey you in la la land.
Watta yall going to do?
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2013
I want to love you like I already lost you because if you were gone I would make sure to tell you how much I loved you before you closed your eyes each and every night
I would not take the blessing of being able to communicate just how special you make me feel each time you smile at me knowing I was the individual that created that masterpiece
She had eyes that give the finishing touch to everything you feel is empty in life
Filling up my happiness with your joy
I would text you to let you know I made It home as soon as I made it home
I would pretend to be interested when she asks for my opinion on the more feminine things
Because now that you are gone I see that as part of the puzzle piece that makes her so divine
Like the picnic in the park on our date
Something stories make
There’s nothing like fate
Together we get lost in the day
Food is on the way
Uber eats, two swings, one love and maybe a movie
Tell me, would you enjoy a picnic in the park
Daytime or after dark
Something different could be the start
p.s. sitting together on a blue slide this is art…
Mind lurking elsewhere; Like the thief in the night
Inner thoughts trapped where bad is considered the best
Heartless soul that attacks the spirit
The gate way to heaven is nowhere to be seen
Mindless body that lurks for sin
Deeds that darken the light
Attempts to stop, but the feeling refuses
Inner ability to pray has failed, uncontested weakness has occurred
Sin rushes through my veins; day in and out
A call out to God has placed me on hold
Blind hands that hold nothing but the devils plate
My soul covered in mud like a pig in mud
Dirt follows me in the night it eats me alive
I trying to believe but my faith is weak
I knocking on faith’s door but nobody seems to be inside
Waking around in never land hoping to find me
I cry out to the bible, but my cries are silent
Open your heart oh lord as I kneel before you
People around me so distant that I see them no more
Form: