Long Francisco Poems
Long Francisco Poems. Below are the most popular long Francisco by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Francisco poems by poem length and keyword.
This sinner here --Michelle--
learned at St. Peter Chanel
there's no point to rebel
Life without God is Hell
Not just a state of mind
also an afterlife confined
to weep, & teeth-grind
all happiness -- behind
It would NOT be fun--
not "a day in the sun!"
no chance to go for a run
the joys of life -- done
Never chillin' with friends
too late to make amends
from Love, the soul rends
and remorse never ends
I don't know about you--
thoughts of Hell make me blue
but it really exists -- it's true
souls could avoid it if they knew
A big pothole in the crosswalk
won't disappear just cuz we balk
we have to watch where we walk
to be safe, lock, barrel and stock
To step up safely, it'd be smart
to climb the ladder to God's Heart
via her--who from Him--isn't apart
the Immaculata's sweet help is a start
Say, Mary be a mother to be now
she's closer to her Son than me --or thou--
from His Cross, He did endow
her to be a mother to us all --and how!
Mary's every word in the Holy Bible
can clear up any anti-Jesus libel
her love for all nations, intertribal
more devotion-worthy than Cybele
I hope Jacinta, Francisco, and Lucia
keep up their intercessory Ave Maria
praying till the world's end: good idea
for peace in Russia, Ukraine (& Korea)
These kids turned their lives around
with the fervent prayer life they found
their sacrifices for sinners did abound
due to their vision of Hell so profound
St. Faustina also envisioned Hell & told
to lovingly warn us, not abrasively scold
read her beautiful story and be consoled
Divine Mercy's testament is New, & Old
We have a way out, with the Lamb
(in other words, the Great I Am)
it's not too good to be true, no sham
Divine Mercy doesn't wish to damn
Ceaseless tortures? No thanks!
I'd rather join the ranks
of all the repentant cranks
giving up our sinful pranks
So then here's my advice
gotta be better than "nice"
but God's grace will suffice
to grow virtue from vice
He's the Way, Truth, and Life
He understands our strife
Urging us with Love, not a knife
Loving us though our sins be rife
There's a twist to this story
I look forward to Purgatory
as more purifying than gory
for God's greater glory
Ultimately I say: Aim Higher
God created us with the desire
after this short life, to retire
to sing in Heaven's choir
From Chicago to Tampa Bay in a Ford Granada some time in the mid- 70's. Unfortunately, we were not interested in mountains, because we took interstate 75 and drove through Tennessee 'at night'. We felt the elevation but never saw the Smoky Mountains.
As we proceeded south, our four year old kept asking, "Are we there yet?" Can you blame her? We should have had at least one mountain story to tell; and why did we not take time to enjoy the healthy smoke? We arrived in Tampa by way of mostly 'flat lands'.
On another occasion we drove from northern Mississippi to Atlanta. While there, we not only viewed, but also trekked until we grew tired. The visit on 'Stone Mountain' was a good one as we also enjoyed the beautiful water fall.
Fast forward to 1981, and find me driving a '79 chevy chevette from San Francisco to Lake Tahoe. Oh, what a ride! From just above sea level to over 9,000 feet and the worst head ache of my life. Our second child who was then four was on board, but he was head ache free. Nice sceneries, and mountains aplenty, but I should have had my head examined; not because of the elevation, but because I had the audacity to drive a Chevette.
Later in the early 80's with my entire family on board, I headed up another mountain in Marin County, Ca. This time there was plenty of room and power in an 8 cylinder full sized Chevy van. Just beyond the Golden Gate is Mt. Tamalpais, but we never reached the top, because my wife changed her mind.
My most recent mountain experience was a scenic view from a Jumbo Jet. Returning from a vacation by way of Portland, I had a nice view of *Mt. St. Helen 36 years after the mountain blew its top in 1980. No, that does not make me a 'Mountain Man'; but from where I sit 30 feet above sea level, it is rather refreshing.
08052017PSContest, Mountains, Julie Rodeheaver
*Or Was it Mt. Hood?
My brother, Lincoln Beachey, made my life a wonder,
Mother's eyes were full of him and loved how he was bold
I was the shadow elder son of a family in poverty's control
and struggled to to sustain them until my blind father's death.
In a grey world, Linc was bright colour caught on the fly
I felt drab and responsible but he dreamed of the sky.
Together we built airships and sailed upon the sky.
people lifted up their eyes and pointed up in wonder.
Then Orville flew and out of the blue, we began to fly.
we both were taught but I flew first, and I was not so bold.
It was almost suicidal but Lincoln feared not death
but I was timid, not like him, not nearly in control.
I flew straight, flat, low and slow tight grip on control
but Lincoln from the take off; it was like he owned the sky.
He danced on the air and I worried, fearing for his death.
Others tried to dance his dance and they died. No wonder
My brother always dared more, did more, forever bold.
Then grief for the dead filled him and no more could he fly.
He was sure it was his fault that they had died, so he did not fly
But like me they had lacked his nerves and his iron control.
They were others, the sky was full of men who were bold
Linc tried very hard not to fly but he soon went back to the sky
Then people came in thousands to see his latest wonder.
Flying low and slow I bumbled, crashed and came near death.
They saw him loop the loop for the first time and avoid death
He flew the thunder of Niagara's mists; where none had dared to fly
Then raced a car neck and neck, It was a screaming wonder
his plane howled inches over the drivers head, the finest of control.
Once he climbed his plane, until fuel was gone, high into the sky.
None had been higher and silently he glided down. That bold.
Over San Francisco bay he flew and still he was bold
Watched by thousands he seemed to tease death
then, suddenly, my ice cold brother fell from the sky
and I saw him smash into the water. No more to fly.
A wing strut had collapsed and he had no more control
and I lost my brother and it ended an era of wonder.
I am old now and look at the sky and I think of the unsung men who used to Fly
Those like me who were not bold and those who were. We all meet death
but we all look at the Control of a Lincoln Beachy and love all the wonder.
BEAUTIFUL BEACHES, A Letter to Daniel
By Curtis Johnson
Hi Daniel,
There once was a man living high on a mountain whose name was Harry
Mt. St. Helen was threatening to blow its top, and everyone started to worry
Harry had been there 60 years and thought he would live on to tell his story
So after being warned to evacuate, Harry refused and decided to tarry
Sadly, when the volcano blew, Harry was later found in 40 feet of ashes
It’s interesting at times, that life can be so tame, so sweet, and so calming. Because of our positive experiences, we relax and enjoy seasons so charming Like Harry, we are unconvinced of danger, and need not fear rumors and warnings
Sandy beaches on the oceanfront are beautiful and lots of fun, when all is sunny and bright. For eight years my family and I lived in San Francisco within four blocks of the Pacific. Believe me when I say that the Oceanside is a calming and charming place. We spent lots of time in the Golden Gate Park and on the beach.
One Sunday afternoon, my two small kids and I took a walk across the rocks above the ocean beach. The waves were coming in pretty far, but I thought that we were high enough. I thought wrong. We had not been on the rocks 5 minutes before the waters came splashing against the rocks that we were walking on. I held the kids and protected them from the big splash. I got pretty wet, but no harm was done, and the lesson was well received.
The sandy beaches of life will often suddenly turn into rushing waves of sea salty waters. My friend, there are times when the volcanoes of life will heat up and blow their top. When they do, we best be aware, heed the warnings, and seek higher ground.
Dan, I do not know what you may be going through presently, but I am praying for you. If for any reason you taste those salty waters of what was once a calm and sandy beach, I have every reason to believe that God is going to change things for you. If the volcanoes of your life have blown its top, I have every reason to believe that the ashes will not bury you. When the troublesome adversities of life blow against all of us, God is always both warning and leading us out to safety.
So Daniel, my friend, may we together seek higher ground. Love you. Curtis09262013
Earth's Tragic Events
Earth's tragic events
Seem to crawl upon us,
Anniversaries of deadly happings
Spread across our atlas.
Today marks an anniversary
Of the San Francisco earthquake,
It happened back in 1906
The earth did violently shake.
The Titanic was deemed "unsinkable"
By her brave Captain,
Hit an iceberg off the coast of Newfoundland
Her maiden voyage, came to an end.
The sister ship to the Titanic
Met her bitter end too,
Named "Gigantic," renamed "Britannic"
Struck a mine, sank, she was also subdued.
Then there was air disasters
The Hindenburg, should be mentioned,
Caught fire in mid air
The sky that fateful day, was blackened.
We have also been through
Two deadly World Wars,
Many people killed along the way
Something, the world couldn't ignore.
Earthquakes and hurricanes
Are to blame too,
Lives lost and still remembered
This world needs to be rescued.
Nuclear power plants
Blowing up and spreading deadly gases,
Twenty years ago today, it happened
People are still suffering in masses.
People following a person
Whom claimed he was Jesus' disciple,
Murdered innocent women and children
Thought he was the King of his castle.
A building blown up and defaced
By two insane people,
Small children in kindergarten perished
This world holds a hateful burden.
Kids taking guns to school
Thinking they're all that,
Killing fellow students and people who teach
Please, it's finally time to throw in the hat.
Planes crashing through buildings
By terrorists filled with hate,
A President fighting a battle for his father
Another war, it did create.
Bombs being placed on buses
Watch restaurants and skies ignite,
People's lives being short-lived
Relatives filled with fright.
Subways and trains being blown
All to kingdom come,
Lives being destroyed and ripped apart
This violence isn't welcome.
The ground shakes
Beneath the feet of miners,
Explosions and lives quickly taken away
Families filled with anger.
When will the hurting stop?
We all drop to our knees,
All we want in the world
Is human kindness and a lot of PEACE.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
Apr.18/2006
I know I probably left a lot of things out, but I wrote about the events that tore my heart in two.
During the time before television came to our home, My dad sat there in his car on many a dark Southern night. And I was somewhere close by, enjoying a wonderful
game of Major League Baseball on the radio.
O, there were several teams in the majors like The Pirates,
The White Socks and The Red Socks were popular
teams. But in my town in Northern Mississippi, baseball was all about the Cardinals, the Dodgers, and the Yankees.
There were many sights and sounds of baseball beaming from radios and television sets. I must say that I mean no disrespect to other good and decent sportscasters,
but Harry Carry and Pee Wee Reese made us feel like we
were there in the stands.
My dad had lots of friends, but two were rivals in the game.
There was his friend, the Yankee man name Mr. Baines;
And then, Mr. Mon, his other friend, was a Dodger fan.
But my dad’s heart was in St. Louis with Stan the Man.
In the memory of my mind, I can hear those games now on the radio.
Those nights were dark and hot, but the baseball captured and calmed me.
Reading newspapers and enjoying a baseball game on the radio were two
things my dad and I shared together. But also, later on, we obtained a television. With the snapshots tucked away in the frames of my mind, after 50-plus years, I can still see the Baseball Game of the Week.
I'm rather certain that neither my dad nor his two friends ever graced the stadiums of their teams. I'm proud to say that it was through them that I developed a deep love for the game. So, in a way, when I saw two games at Wrigley Field in Chicago, they were there also; or when I enjoyed two games of the Giants at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, they sat right next to me.
They say that baseball is America’s great past time experience;
but for me, baseball was always about ‘now and then’, ‘today, and
‘tomorrow’ too. It was about a little country boy fantasizing
and dreaming today about what could be tomorrow.
Written 042010; Entry122422PS Contest, Matt Caliri, Poetry in Motion
The National Pastime, Phillip Garcia
also: (Screwed XV11 Contest, Rod Carmack; 10th Pl)
"Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house;
can you hear the whispering? "
Quote by _Constance La France
I suspect that most major cities have abandoned houses.
I have lived in three large American cities, ranked in population,
3rd (Chicago), 17th (San Francisco), and 35th (Sacramento).
Of all the abandoned housing sites that I have seen, none struck me
as sadly as those that I have seen in rural America these last 15 months.
Perhaps my suspicion ascends from my being touched by the site of them
because they represent a history and experiences with which I am familiar.
This write is forcing the question of whether it is better to be abandoned
than to be torn down; to be torn down or to be permitted to return to nature.
The torn-down factor deeply affects me personally, and I am grateful for the
opportunity to share this experience with fellow soupers and others.
There was once a plantation house occupied by my parents
and their family. It was our home where I and at least 10
of my siblings were born. It was a well-built house made
of concrete blocks. We were farm workers and never owners.
After our father had passed and I grew up and went off to
college, my mother was later asked to move.
Some 30-plus years later, I learned that some of those
plantation houses were moved and converted into hotel rooms.
Our house was not among them. Presently, I don't know what
became of our house where so much life was lived and a myriad
of memories were born. Whether brick and mortar or wood and
nails, or asphalt or tin and strews; And whether torn down
or permitted to return to nature, they are now gone to places
unknown to me.
Did our house and the others become a part of trees as some
others I have seen recently, or will the trees knock down
the house? Anyway, their usefulness had expired, and they
were abandoned with no one desiring them anymore.
Indeed, I feel the souls of those who resided in our abandoned
and torn-down house. I feel the souls of Grandma, Mother, Daddy,
8 sisters, 3 brothers, and a dog named Jack. Indeed, I hear the
whispers, the loud noises of children laughing and playing.
Indeed, I house a bank of a thousand memories and more.
052723PSCtest. Constance La France
Contest Name. Writing Challenge - C Quotes -. 2P
A Story from My Heart
Kelly was a Red Tabby and a contemplative soul!Elena, my daughter used to put him in her doll buggy and walk him around the house. How he loved those rides!
History. I found Kelly near Chinatown in San Francisco, on a busy street in a teeny garden bed. Noisy cable cars, passing by!
I picked him up and went to apartments, nearby. Nobody was the owner! So I hailed a cab and took him home.
Back then, nobody fretted over cat diseases or wondered, if a cat was neutered
I just brought him home to my Calico, Luvey!
My cats had to be calicos or red tabbies only. My present feine is Irene, also a Calico. Our feral outdoors cat is a Calico.
Luvey accepted Kelly instantaneously, like a part of the family.
They were like sister and brother. We took him to the vet, had him fixed. He died from Kidney disease, he had to be put down.I laid on the floor in the vet lobby and had a tantrum, like a kid! I was so attached to that guy. He was in
misery the last few weeks of his loving life.
The Calico, Luvey, outlived him. Sle got to age 25! That one fell out of a three story window..I found her in the morning. She was limping, that’s all. I
told my fiancé, I wanted her checked out. So, took her in,
The vet showed me..ugh...she cracked her palate, which required surgery, and after that, they could not wake her! I said, “I will come down and wake her!!l”
She was lying, almost dead in the bottom of the cage.
I opened the door and said my magic words ” Mommy is here!” She woke up
She lived to be twenty-five years old! Luvey had a heart attack while being examined for a bad cold. I sat in a room, and talked to that dead cat and sang to her for 45 minutes. Those were precious moments.
May she Rest In Peace! Luvey was a tiny cat. And my first. A boyfriend brought her to me. I said, “I don’t want a cat!!.
Hal said, “give her a try for one night!!
That transformed into 25 awesome years...
Addenda~ A Shining Memory
One Christmas, I walled Kelly down the long hall in our
apartment building...His leash was thick, forest green tinsel!
A most loving companion, beloved by all my neignors.
I still miss him, though decades have flown away!
5/10/2022
The parents whose 12-year-old son was just laid to rest
From spraying bullets exploding in his young body’s chest
The father whose daughter was tortured and raped
By monsters initiating in a criminal gang
She will never see her fourteenth birthday
The shopkeeper, who after taxes is barely making his life’s wage
And totally depends on the paltry money his hard work can make
The mother of five beautiful children who went out
For a routine run on a beautiful sunny day,
But will never return to their waiting arms;
All their lives shattered in a heinous and brutal way.
The military veteran who lost his legs, as he served us all in a made-up war
Now sleeps on the concrete in a filthy corner of San Francisco Bay
The innocent 2nd grader, a tiny blonde blue-eyed girl,
Is left confused and unsure
When her trusted teacher says she’s a racist
Who has destroyed the world
The toddler sitting on his mother’s lap who looks on in dismay
As a mustached man, dressed as a woman in exaggerated makeup
Gyrates and sings vulgar songs just inches from his unprotected face
The girls soccer team whose teammate lost half of her face
Refuses to compete with transgender men whose genitals are now misplaced
The Texas rancher whose family must clean up behind
The millions of crossings in a continuous unending line
Of criminal invaders whose tons of trash and broken bodies are scattered
Among his unproductive fields and livestock in rotting tatters
The aching backs of hard-working taxpayers whose treasure
Has been looted and their protesting voices silenced;
For four years they had no say where their money goes.
It’s now enriching Iran, Ukraine and who else, nobody knows.
Nearly a half million young children lost their innocence,
And many their lives, sold into slavery in factories
And as sexual slaves; Grievous Evil modeling the Chinese way
Nearly 80 million Americans, sick to death of insanity, evil and deceit
All rose together to fight the rancid leftist coastal elites.
Together extinguishing the rule of disloyal leaders, fascists, racists,
Their eyes shining with hope that there can now be an end.
Each one’s voice and vote counted this time as they shouted,
“President Donald J Trump will fix it and make America great again!”
'Being decisive and confident' are powerful assets, but "I don't know" is asinine. Whole hearted and half hearted people are not half, but whole worlds apart.
A famous baseball player once said, "Don't look back, something might be gaining on you". Looking back over the years of my past, I have observed a pattern that portrays the fact that I have rarely returned to places I once have been. It appears that I finished the work or the assigned mission, moved on, and seldom looked back.
I have sometime wondered, but not seriously, about the direction my life would have gone, or the path I would have taken, or the career choice I would have made, if only I had joined my best friend in Tennessee rather than start out in Chicago; or if I had been drafted and sent off to Viet Nam rather to college in Chicago; or if I had not gotten sidetracked and forgot about the enrollment fee I had payed for a Texas computer school; or if I had not misdialed that telephone number that connected me to a school I was not looking for that became the school from which I graduated; or was it really a misdial or the pathway to my destiny? Or what if I had accepted that promising job offer while still a sophomore in college?
I have never been bothered by the 'what ifs', 'why nots', 'why me', and 'maybe'. Still, sometimes I think, but not seriously, "What if I had not gone to that college where I met Bob through whom I met Carlis through whom I met Barbara to whom I have been married for 48 years with whom I have had three children who have given us six grand children"?
There may be long and short answers, but I've always believed in getting to the bottom of things, getting to the point. That's not to say that life is all 'black and white and no greys'. Sometimes, maybe, maybe not, my 'what ifs' would have taken me to New York and not San Francisco, but I think now as I thought then, that the proper decisions and chosen paths were the right ones for me. And I don't mean maybe.
080120PSCtest, If Only, Maybe, Sometimes, Silent One. 5P