Long Four Poems
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The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".
Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.
Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.
Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe
The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon
Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild
With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather
Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.
Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"
Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.
"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.
Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".
Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"
On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
~Don't Be Left Behind~
( Couplet)
Please don’t miss out and be left behind
Salvation only thru Jesus we can always find
Try not to do, what you know is not right
And pray to Jesus to keep you in His sacred light
Don't do evil and keep company with the wrong crowd
In front of our God we should be humbled not proud
The ways of the Lord are always good and perfect
He deserves all our unconditional love and respect
Find the Lord first and to you all His blessings He'll surely add
For your sins and mine He paid the price so we can be glad not sad
For the love of God we can come anytime and have with Him eternity
Only through Jesus we can have Salvation, not in our own way and ability
We can not attain Salvation just by doing it with our own power or good
We're not good enough, just "God" is really good and perfect and that’s understood.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2006
February.25.2016
~Author's notes:
Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord.
1 Thessalonians 4:17 (NIV)
I tell you, in that night there will be two in one bed. One will be taken and the other left. There will be two women grinding together. One will be taken and the other left.” And they said to him, “Where, Lord?” He said to them, “Where the corpse is, there the vultures will gather.”
Luke 17: 34-37 (NIV)
Because you have kept my word about patient endurance, I will keep you from the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth.
Revelation 3: 10 (NIV)
“But concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.
Mark 13:32 (NIV )
“Immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then will appear in heaven the sign of the Son of Man, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.
Matthew 24: 29-31 (NIV)
Your words, which seem to be my words,
are but footprints on the fen floor of
the white page, echoes of wand'ring lyric loping.
And if, perhaps, the P's that B have blessed,
they click, they crunch, they sweetly rot underlip.
Tearing words from mind, squeezing through that jealous heartspace.
Tearing follows, wetting page after page, piling into a formless stream.
They clatter upon the mocking whiteness, an array in disarray.
A shattered and graphic mythography, mud clots on tile
after a hike. Why do not my hot words summon Leidenfrost?
I love words, no...I love meaning.
I love meaning, I don't love
the promise of words' bringing of
meaning.
It is National Poetry Month and Shakespeare.
died today.* The first time he died today was
four hundred years ago. I am set to write and read
'publicly' (which spellcheck insists and my heart
does not insist is better writ as 'public ally') some
'poetry' while dancers carve the air, in response to,
in love with, in relation to, hand/heart drawn trees
which have drawn, well-
wishers to wine 'n cheese' 'n chit 'n chat
an opening. A gallery.
But Prince died last night.
The artist formerly known as Prince Rogers Nelson,
and formerly known as a symbol,
and now formerly known as Prince. He died.
The symbol has gone and I don't know what it means.
The words are here behind my teeth, within my fingertips,
astride my heart, tickling that lump in my throat.
It is Earth Day, too. I'm supposed to say some words and make
them meaningful. And make them sing. And ring in the hearts as though
my ditherings are one tine of a tuning fork and the other is the spirits
of those dearly beloved, gathered here. Our coils unshuffled, for in our
sleep of life what dreams may come. But we stand upon, today, both
the funeral's grounds and the corpse to be. The Earth. We are meant
to celebrate her life as she withers. Strangled, starved, and trampled. And I?
I can't.
I just...
cant.
-ShhDragon
*He died today but every day we don't give birth to him with our tongue, on the stages of our heart, he remains a fetid, rotting, beautiful corpse. ’Lo four hundred years ago he died, but every day he isn't summoned, isn't animated, he remains dead. The fact of anniversary is our failing, our repeated failings, to bring forth what might be dead.
The bay and titian milestone
calls the universe
On everything we have to remember
2019 we met in joy
Raw in our hearts
We gathered in love
Humble without pride
We spoke in a voice
They called us golden ones
Oh yes! Golden ones.
After the last quarter
A strange duster appeared
And erased Gift out of the list
Many emotions were bitter
Just like me
That pended the elite Supper
Chronically, we arrived 2020
Which showed advances on arrival
The stretching chain started breaking
Everyone chose the birds they flocked with
Classic pride developed its wig
From the humble hearts
Everyone real colour start revealing
Like the rising sun in the morn.
Just a sudden
The world was attacked by Emperor'19
Everywhere was shut,
Everyone's lovers were distanced
Nations dropped like flies
Love, value and unity quenched
New fishes entered the friendship oceans of our comrades
In the pandemic period we experienced.
In 2021 we met again as earlier as expected
As there were different faces, such were different shoulders.
Everyone focused on its target
The class attendance dropped like a weighless scale.
Many break, many strike
Affect the 2021 journey.
Just like a flowing stream
The heaven sea journey to the left side
Gave the picture of the sun
Traveling from the North to West.
Days in, days out
There was not a single day without a memory
As we all gathered for the new 2022.
2022 was the year of planting fame
Many people worked to be recognized
The birds changed their groups
Everyone humbled again
Trying to move up a bit
As the result of the shock
From the previous exams.
'Just like yesterday
'I was a fresher
'Today I am an FYB'
That was everyone's comment
When we met ourselves
In the final level of the journey
In the 2022 summer months.
Despite the four years journey's metamorphosed
Into five years journey with hard stress
Joy crowned our hearts because everything is closer
We accepted to involve in the final stress
That has a short time
But so dismal, Lilly fell from the train
Almost at the bus stop.
Now on our table
We cheers to the love that we have got
Toast to the one that we lost on the way
The toast goes to every able that can read this;
And remember the memories we've been through
Which the bay and titian milestone
Has called us to remember.
There's an old English song called All Jolly Fellows That Follow The PLow. The tune works fine as is for the chorus and with the verses if the tune for the 3rd and 4th lines is repeated for th 5th and 6th. Well, it works for me but my singing has never been much hindered by tunes.
It was after that big game one long gone September,
the score line was one I’d like not to remember,
in a small Richmond pub not too far from the ground,
we all settled down with our sorrows to drown.
We were well on the way, as were most of the crowd,
when in came a young pedlar a shouting out loud.
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
Cried the barmaid, “How many do I get to a yard?”
“Madam, four if they’re soft or three if they’re hard”
She felt for the soft ones, she wanted a lot,
but the more that she squeezed em the harder they got.
She found not a sausage was e’en a bit soft
so she told the young pedlar to go get far offed
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
Said the pedlar, “Why madam no need to be rude.
And in fact what you told me was verging on crude
But you don’t look so bad for a foul mouthed old sow
so step on outside, if you like, with me now.
If you play your cards right I might squeeze your left breast.
If I find I like that I might squeeze all the rest.”
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
Said the barmaid to pedlar, “You are a right jerk,
I’m a barmaid and never do mission’ry work.
But if you're near to the shops and you buy me some eggs,
I might squeeze that there pimple you’ve got ‘tween your legs.”
Then she said something that made the whole crowd guffaw,
“And will you stop off at home and please check the back door?”
“
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.
For Cyndi MacMillan's pub song contest
The Dogs we called Family
Tara came first and then there was Ben,
When both of them died we said never again.
Then Sam the runner, got killed in the street,
Prince came and went quick, we didn't know he was sick.
He came from a farm where distemper was rife,
Took him to the vet where he ended his life.
One year had to pass to get our house clear,
Without a mutt there, it seemed without cheer.
One day I was out and the Pound I happened to pass,
I doubled back and I looked through the glass.
Inside I walked, many dogs ignoring my stare,
Until one at the end looked up at me square,
Sat on her haunches both paws outstretched.
She's the one, I knew, so my family I fetched.
I said nothing to them of the dog I had seen,
When they saw the same one I knew they were keen.
The dog was due for the jab that very hour,
To save her life now was in our power, you see.
We paid the fee for her life, Our Lucy was free.
She was the new member added to our family of four,
She lived with us and loved us for 19 years more.
While she was with us we had another to add,
Along came Jamie the Yorkie,he was a bit of a lad.
Like Ben he stayed near ten years and sadly passed.
Lucy died of old age, we said it's time to give in.
Our Garden Cemetery of loved ones was full to the brim.
To Cyprus we came to retire and live in the sun,
Of a dog in the family we didn't want one.
Then a visit to Larnaca was to change our life again,
Because along came Lexi to start it all over again.
She was soon followed by Levi, he was a lively one,
Then came Eli, the whirlwind and pain in the bum.
So from just us two forever as we'd planned,
Now we were five and life was once again grand.
A sad day loomed we had no idea of what was to come,
Levi was walking wrong so we took him to the vet
He had hurt his spine, as bad as it could get.
His rear end gave out and could not be reversed.
He was paralyzed, and getting steadily worse.
The love he gave us in his life reduced us to tears.
The vet said it's time he confirmed our worst fears.
We let him go to where he could romp with all the rest,
All the dogs in our family, they were the best.
With Tara and Ben, Jamie,Charlie the Pinscher and Lucy too
Neo the Collie and Big Ben & Storm the Rottweilers two,
Newfoundland Curtis and Demon the Chow,
All Pals together, in the Big Kennel now.
© Dave Timperley May 5th 2016
I will sometimes be asked how it came about
that my children have one set of grandparents,
and I know just what you are thinking now,
but hear me out, an all of this will make sense.
I’m explaining this for one final time
to put all these blasted rumors to rest,
the odd position my family is in
did not come about due to incest!
It began when I, Armond Carruthers,
fell in love with a beautiful girl.
Her name is Denise, and she is my light
in this crazy and much-confused world.
See the two of us were high school sweethearts,
been together since our junior year,
managed to build something that could outlast
the blind passion of our teenage years.
But during our freshman year of college
we decided that we couldn’t wait,
maybe we were just a pair of young fools,
but we went ahead and set the date.
Now this is the point the story gets strange,
both of us were raised by one parent alone,
my father died in a car accident
when I was six, mom raised me on her own.
Denise’s mother was out of her life,
she cheated on her dad when Denise was four,
her father George did all the upbringing,
he gave her all of his hear and then more.
We were just nineteen when we got engaged,
her dad George was a fit forty-one,
my mother, Kristen, was just thirty-nine,
wanted to do something nice for her son.
She was us to focus on our studies,
and would gladly help plan the wedding,
that she and George would make things run smoothly,
we both thanked her, and let them do their thing.
They both must have seen something they liked,
though neither one of us realized it then,
they kept meeting up to ‘plan the wedding’
again...and again...and again…
All this time we just thought it was nice
that these future in-laws were getting along,
figured it would make holidays easy,
you can say we both read that one wrong.
Of course they did not tell us all this,
and the wedding was done in fine style,
neither realizing that for two months now
my mother knew that she was with child…
When three months later it became obvious,
both our parents sheepishly let us know,
to say we were stunned does not describe it,
but later to the courthouse we did go.
And as if this surprise wasn’t enough,
when my mind struggled to make some sense,
I received even more life-changing news,
my Denise was also now pregnant…
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
I am a butterfly that loves to sing, every note and word I do fling, to rhythm I do cling, music by the flowers has a beat and ring, the ladybugs threw kisses with love.
Big Green likes to join in, his deep frog voice comes with a big grin, our sounds will make you spin, we like to play outside of the inn, they say our voices fit like a glove.
Rose is a backup voice, then there is sweet pea Joyce, take both and do not make a choice, with the four of us we can now rejoice, is this called garden music~kind of.
We play and sing all night long, the flowers like to sing along, everyone likes to hear tweet~tweet from the birdsong, some of the music can get real strong, in the end it sounds like from heaven above.
Date Written: 4/8/2022
9 Place
aaaaf, bbbbf, ccccf, ddddf, eeeef
Tall Tales 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser
You were the reason I could live through the strife,
You kept it from feeling like a stab with a knife.
Affection’s what I needed to make it through,
The kind of true love that I shared only with you.
That’s how I felt until one day,
You decided its better to throw it away.
The four months with you went by so fast,
Now I dread how long each day will last.
We would joke about me being locked in a tower,
Yet that’s how I feel without your power.
In a poem you wrote you said I am caffeine,
Now I know how you felt, I know what you mean.
As I was to you, you were also to me,
It just took losing you for me to see.
Having no you is like having no air,
You felt the same now it seems you don’t care.
A while ago you said you’ve fallen for me hard,
Now I sit here on the ground, I fell but I got scarred.
Before that night I thought we’d endure,
This was a fact, I was totally sure.
Then it came with your words that you unfold,
That you don’t want to see what our future will hold.
I promised to care for you through the thick and thin,
But now you've made that chance to be slim.
When was the last you listened to our song,
The way I find us now tells me it has been too long.
Remembering the times you’d say “I love you”,
Now I look back to find none of it’s true.
No one could love you as much as I,
I’ll keep our moments until I die.
I clearly remember those times we had,
Now they fade with you, I feel nothing but sad.
But what kills me the most was the look in your face,
What I had to look at when all this took place.
No frown, no sniffs, not a tear in your eye,
Even though it felt like I was ‘bout to die.
I had to stay strong and hold back all my tears,
All in the meanwhile being told my worst fears.
You said you would always love me so,
Though now I feel your love ceases to grow.
I sit here holding what’s left of my heart,
It slips through my fingers as it falls apart.
Now I look back at what seems a mistake,
But you’re the mistake I was glad to make,
The kind of mistake I would always make,
Even though it ends in my heartache.
Poetry from the heart you showed me to write,
And now it haunts me of that dismal night.
Though I know I’m not perfect and neither are you,
When we were together I felt that not true.
My life had no order but I was gaining control,
But now my heart’s left with a dark gaping hole.
Form:
In Jan, nineteen thirty-three, there was man called Mick Malloy
At the time he was an alcoholic and a poor homeless boy.
A young Irish fire-fighter out of work
He left his home in Donegal - to find some in New York.
He fell in with five real bad men
Who wanted to cause murder back then.
Poor Mick they had him in their sights
An insurance fraud, they brought to light.
They signed three life policies on Mick
Now they had to kill him quick.
Unlimited credit in a speakeasy, they gave him
To drink himself to death-they went out on a limb.
Although he drank all day long
His life it just seemed to prolong
They switched to antifreeze instead
Expecting Mick to wake up dead.
With turpentine they then did tempt
But no success, so they switched to horse liniment.
Finally a drink of rat poison, they gave the poor lad
But Mick never ever seemed to get bad.
They tried oysters, then methanol.
Bad sardines, poison and carpet tacks
But poor old Mick swallowed the lot,
And still poor Mick kept coming back.
The five would be murderers were baffled
Poor Mick just would not die
The murder trust then knew,
something else they would have to try.
One night poor Mick unconscious, they stripped him and carried him out
In minus fourteen degrees,naked, not wearing a single clout.
Threw five gallons of water on him, to make sure that he would freeze
Poor Mick returned the next without even a cough or sneeze.
Mick returned the next day to order himself a drink
The men were getting desperate they really had to think.
Next they hit him with a taxi and broke lots of poor Mick’s bones
But he had three weeks in hospital, then they sent him home.
The gang had thought that Mick was dead
But when they tried to claim, poor Mick returned once more
And kept on his drinking game.
In desperation in February, in fact on the twenty second
They waited for Mick to collapse, then gassed him in a second
A pipe they pushed into his throat and now poor Mick was gone.
The gang did not win even then, no not a single one.
They squabbled and were caught and to Sing Sing them they did send
Four to be fried on the electric chair what a sizzling end
The fifth was sent to prison, which didn’t seem quite fair.
He somehow managed to escape, Sing Sings electric chair
Poor Mick Malloy has been long gone, but will not be forgotten
Just remember to watch your friends though; you never know who’s rotten.