Long Exceeds Poems
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It was a woodcut in our high school history text, Unit 4 Beginnings of the
Modern World, that so disturbed,
from the Nuremburg Chronicles depicting the burning of the Jews, flat
perspective,
faces of the victims among flames, in no particular agony, not especially
Jewish,
during the Black Death 1/3 of Europe died 1347-1351 alone. Although
you die together you die alone.
Earlier that week, I had attended our 6th grade's performance of Fiddler on
the Roof, thinking
Coltrane should have recorded Matchmaker as a bookend to My
Favorite Things
but as the play darkened
with the town's absorption into the diaspora, democracy
yet unthought of and rule of law a fig leaf for authority
Jasper, who played Zero Mostel, delivered his line well to the effect
you're just doing your jobs while wrecking our lives.
Anyway, nothing like that is happening here, is it?
The gardener planting tomatoes, the gravedigger finding skulls,
there is so much life a little death won't matter.
Jasper
was a beautiful ham,
big as Zero.
A friend posed
this question: must all states be melting pots like the United States?
I said yes
not because they should but since
it's inevitable. Let labor flow like capital!
America was the last word of the play and brought a tear of pride to my
eye.
Immigration, exasperating argument re the Other.
How many's more than enough? 9 billion, a rational,
real number that exceeds or
we're convinced
is within the carrying capacity of the planet.
Climate change is the new Black Death.
I like the Amerindian body type and face mixed in with the European,
African.
The irrepressible economy rolls out reams of logs, ores of elements, bags
of ice, fields of rice.
Embargo. The moon stares, bare, full of interstellar space.
Better a cold shoulder than a visit from our military.
The crazy Nazis must have felt themselves extraordinarily compassionate
toward the mother, earth, the goddess, history, or some such
abstraction and, thus, acted on a fraction of all they did not know.
Selfless soldiers just doing their jobs guarding the border or,
on the other hand, collecting fagots for the burning of the Jews.
The greatest treasure throughout of lives
Is to know that unequaled feeling
That feeling that exceeds all others
In depth, in passion, in pure heavenly bliss
The feeling called love
Nothing has equaled it since time began
It is why we're here
To share part of our soul
With another being
Another soul who is also searching for love
When these two hearts meet
That unmistakeable attraction we all have known
At one time or another in our lives
Grabs our attention
That magic feeling unequaled
Of passion that we long to share with someone
To revel in an affair to be remembered
All through our lives
Those that know the secret of love
Know the secret of life
They are truly blessed!
© Jack Ellison 2014
On the bank of the river Styx,
Life and death and forever mix,
There’s no keeping who its water picks,
Say farewell by the river Styx.
I lived my life in the land of light,
Yet now I cross to the realm of night.
I’ve no sorrow for my poor plight:
Yet I wonder if I left things right.
Was I smiling in my heart each day?
Was I loving in the things I’d say?
Was I steady, or did I stray?
Did I leave things in a better way?
On the bank of the river Styx,
Life and death and forever mix,
There’s no keeping who its water picks,
Say farewell by the river Styx.
You were smiling in your heart each day,
You were loving in the things you’d say.
You were steady, nor did you stray,
And you left things in a better way.
I loved your life in the land of light,
Yet now you cross to the realm of night.
How I sorrow for your poor plight!
How I wish that I could make things right!
On the bank of the river Styx,
Life and death and forever mix,
There’s no keeping who its water picks,
Say farewell by the river Styx.
Though there’s sorrow when the river’s crossed,
And I sorrow that my youth turned frost,
My tears are that our touch is lost,
That alone shall be the crushing cost.
Will you keep me in your heart’s warm place?
Will I bring a smile upon your face?
And shall our love cross time and space?
Or will I vanish without a trace?
On the bank of the river Styx,
Life and death and forever mix,
There’s no keeping who its water picks,
Say farewell by the river Styx.
I will keep you in my heart’s warm place,
And you’ll bring a smile upon my face.
And our love shall cross time and space,
You’ll never vanish without a trace.
Though there’s sorrow when the river’s crossed,
And I sorrow that your youth turned frost,
Have no tears that our touch is lost,
For our love exceeds what death can cost.
On the bank of the river Styx,
Life and death and forever mix,
There’s no keeping who its water picks,
Say farewell by the river Styx.
Awake to the celestial sea chant
Starry-eyed dark matter
of infinite space
Espied by countless eons
since original human race
Became cognizant of her/
his terrestrial place
Gilding the heavens with strings
of pearly hued lace
Closer to Earth charting
early skywatchers to notice moon face
Held captive via gravitational brace
While zodiac archer aims
cocked bow, where knocked feathers
sans arrow complete an awesome
fantastic bullseye ace.
complimenting - MOTHER NATURE’S
SUPREME DISPLAY
A strand of pearls clung to slender tree limbs
bejeweled woody flora prismatic orbs
tell tale sign recent cloudburst
cleft darkened heavens
rained watery life source liquid
downpour laced branched canopy
awash with molecular droplets
requisite to feed burlesque Vaudeville bluster
exquisite gala performance unrehearsed
unscripted ubiquitous theatrical performance
received limitless encores
toward Gaia screenwriter
whose infinite scope
(wrought upon natural landscape palette)
exceeds the finite abilities
of those bipedal dominatrix
human organisms imbued
whose dilettante debut
(dawned these last seconds
on the clock face of geologic history)
might witness curtain call
on their final act.
When He exceeds the sum of all,
Still they covet their windfall.
When success needs His blessing,
Still they covet transgressing.
When consequences hold sway,
Still they covet their own way.
When He sets prisoners free,
Still they covet the carefree.
When praise should carry His sword,
Still they covet being lord.
When trust is His way of life,
Still they covet real-world strife.
When His curse begins to burn,
Still He covets their return.
"Your corpse will come back to life,
Everlasting joy is rife!"
When His trust lesson they learn,
Then they covet His return.
When He exceeds the sum of all,
Then they covet His windfall.
Man is not the cure, or fix,
Says Isaiah twenty-six.
love …
was the air
that you breathed …
there was no course navigated
no interaction made
no thought processed or
act completed
no example set as people or parents
that didn’t have that concern as
its primary edict …
and while life has blessed me far
beyond what a fool like
me could ever hope to deserve,
there is not and never will be
a grace granted me that exceeds the
very simple, very precious gift
of having been your son …
time does NOT make the loss of
you any easier or kind
but I have found strength in the
promise of carrying on,
at least in my best efforts and
hopeful intentions,
your inestimable legacy …
of love.
~ for Mom & Dad - I miss you like lovers miss moonlite ~
( photograph of my mom and dad taken from family archives )
Copyright © 2024 Gregory Richard Barden
From the stillness, the quiet
The silence that falls
On the heart and soul
Whispering joy, love and hope
From the tender whisper
Of a butterfly
As it kisses a daisy
Or the moment when a
Morning dewdrop
Slides over a petal
From the breath of light
Reflected on dawn’s
Soft echo
From the sigh, the whisper,
The precious glimpse
Of feeling
On God’s azure sky
On the caress of a raindrop
As it plops onto my shoulder
Over the soothing air
As a gaggle of birds gather
From the heart and soul
Where only God can know
There comes a peace
That exceeds all understanding
A peace that leads me
Toward a life of gentleness
A thought of inspiration
A shadow of exaltation
Sweet prayers and praise
Come in waves as the peace
Fills me, frees me, floods me
This is peace that believes in three
The Father, Son and Holy Spirit
Given as God’s generous gift to me
Philippians 4:7 (KJV) And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
She's not a freethinker do not know an illusion
Of dreams nothing to bear
Hid herself from the image of Narcissus will
And bears thine name
Those shoddy look wasn't happy and yet unfair
For let me pour a thing and heaves those groan of despair
A trilogy of unwanted character plays no fear
Acceptance, revenge, delude she made clear
For Hera's word exhorting her to fight
So the muse of epic poetry-they call her Calliope at night
She herself couldn't surrender the concession of LOVE
For thous't vowel the O and E,
Consonants of L and V triggers her to feel
The abstract of battle
Maybe she's a freethinker.
Over the rough road of ignorance
Decried the message of thou commit ones
Oh! her hope in life exceeds for the existence of long time ago
Of by the genus fressia
Of by the dogma of living
Now she stood up and speak with freelance in the tongues of men
And march by the beat of upliftment
A freethinker now she knows and never dream again.
The best poem
equally to the best song,
is poem of poems and of all
the mantras ... anyway
and renewed others ...
The best poem ever
there will be ... there will always be another
that exceeds it, that
modify ...
That's because originality
of any poem, it is not
totally genuine ... the source
origin was subtracted, but
never before revealed ...
My best poem, don't come
right place, and it's not number one ...
But I offer it to you if you don't have
none... !
Marriage has it's ups and it's downs
But it far exceeds the alternative
A lonely life without love and affection
Love's one of life's true superlatives
Some days we have heated discussions
That's how it was meant to be
Then she does something ever so sweet
And you forget why you disagreed
It isn't always going to be clear sailing
But if the bond is truly strong
It's worth the struggles times over
If you're lucky it will end up lifelong
The male tendency is to play the field
But trust me life's way too short
To become involved at playing the field
Probably means some time in court
Not sure the ladies will like my analogy
It's the lesser of two evils as they say
Oh boy I think I may have done it this time
Must convince Cathie it's just a cliche