Long Gang up Poems
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It’s about Iran, once again
I’m not pro-war or for bloodshed
Destruction for and many dead
When nations stop, expend resource
And hands are forced without recourse
A war is bad for all involved
Men lost while problem’s being solved
Angst, fright, despair - they all reign
While bombs come down like a rain
But war is tool, when talk’s no more
The threat is huge, command is “draw”
The fiend is bold, defiant, brash
And your existence he wants trashed
Been’ vicious to its own folks
While spreading carnage like a smoke
You can’t sit idle and ignore
Once done, they will be at your door
Like-minded scum gets to rejoice
They all gang up, you know the boys
To push, to conquer and assault
Can’t let this happen, else our fault
We may be wrong, we may be right
But do what’s proper, get to fight
And may the History be judge
Whoever wants may hold a grudge
Aim for the nukes to rule the world?
Fast-spreading cancer is unfurled
Then war is scalpel, use or die
The answer to the question “why?”
March 3, 2026
It's amazing how lazy people
make up excuses for themselves
it's never their fault
when the work doesn't get done
The power of girls
lies in the back door of gossip
they gang up in teams
gossiping destroying reputations
but play the innocent when caught
it wasn't me
the words of lies echo through
the halls of contempt
you can spend your life
trying to help people
yet unless they want
to help themselves
your time is wasted
on people that are lazy
and don't want to work
your time is precious
Life is so short
each time you stop to help another
is time you could have used
to help yourself
To stop and teach someone else
is time you could have used on yourself
you could have been a student
climbing higher on the tides of education
yet time is never wasted
being kind
helping others
makes a better world
but sometimes
no matter how you help
it's never enough
because they don't want
to help themselves
oh how many excuses
I'm not clever enough
yet if you don't read the book
You can't know the answer
knowledge is built up with study
if you don't read about anatomy
you can't know about anatomy
granted some people are gifted
they don't need to study
as much as others
to build the foundations of knowledge
you won't build a career
playing games on Facebook
you don't build respect
being too lazy to work
When they come at you with pitch forks and tar
Get ready to fight back.
Be fierce, growl with your gut. Smack them upside their heads.
When they gang up on you, shove them into the ground.
Stomp on them if you have to.
Scare them to death.
When they come to you with a mean face
Open your heart and listen.
They are hurting from something else.
Unless you have truly done something.
When they call you names do not cry.
Do not give them any satisfaction at all.
Love them.
This is the best way to fight back actually.
Written. 10/07/2019
Contest; Why do I feel this is a Trophy Winning poem.
It is what I think we all realize in our hearts
Sponsor: Tania KitchiN
After required Thanksgiving Day
and depressing night
I awoke surprised
by release into ego-homelessness.
What could sad night despairs mean?
Reiterating loss of grateful identity
mysteriously disappearing through this habitat's coldly absent roof
of sacred grace
space.
Why would capital depression,
RightBrain suppression
and historic patriarchal suppression
suddenly gang up more gracefully,
less threateningly,
on ZeroZone ego-homelessness
freely chosen
before rudely thrown out
for lack of paternal place.
RightBrain fullness of soul
remains ZeroZen timeless re-identification
with one empty homeless side
without exterior shelter.
But, for how long could eternity reweave
temporary housed DNA souls
becoming Earth's healthy resilient lifeline?
Advent invites homeless nurturing adventures
into matriarchal kindness, silent advances
into wildly blind blizzards
binding sun's enchanting rainbow promise
watering returns to Earth's temporary spring sanctuary
refueling DNA's homeless
yet robust
absence of perpetually living boundaries
Toward, rather than against, Earth's healthy wealth
future identity transgenerating
transubstantiating temporary sanctuaries
in humane health-identity space,
Earth's co-arising sacred time
of ego's non-sectarian summer
for ecology's ecstatic climate climax.
Mutually homeless failing falling theology pilgrims,
EgoYang and EcoYin polypathic souls
overshadowed
by Earth's great green sanctuary
assigned to re-study timeless regenetic root systems
playing WinWin ZeroSoul revolutionary games
for homeless trusted identity, sheltering
from wildly wounded wandering
within chronic asylum anxiety,
Lost in lonely inside forests
quaking,
outside breaking
patriarchal fake-sanctuary voices
inside cooperative matriarchal wombing choices.
A lot of cold windy Dad talk
trumped
in each infant WinWin womb
by Mom's resolute inside nutritional walk.
Homeless ego child
re-connecting inside this eco-womb,
preparing to journey home again
by sacred light of wintry advent's dawn
After thanksgiving days
and depressing night
re-awakening surprise
of ego's wandering
health-rooted adventurous soul
revolution dawning in darkest brights.
Zuzuangel, dances the dazzling streets of Rio.
Her red hair, shines in the moonlight.
Attracting only the finest to her.
She wears studded gold sandals, those sexy feet,
cannot stop dancin to the Jobim, Bossa Nova Beat.
The outside cafes, the weather divine,
This is Zuzu’s time to be out and about, plus to
radiantly shine.
Her inner-soul, you see, has a rain-bowed, inviting
glow.
Wherein the river of her inner poetry does both rise
and flow.
That inner peace, is her fortress, where she truly
cannot be touched.
And any fool, who intimidates her-will be at once,
directly be rebuffed!
It does no good to intimidate, crush or
gang up on any poet’s soul.
The fate for any who so so?
When you harm any of God’s children,
in a monsoon of your own arrogance
you are eternally lost and tossed.
Your vanity, will kill you so high and mighty
you are.
Forgetting each poet is part of
God’s creative star!
11/18/2021
Pangie still in Trauma Center.
Learning to walk and stand.
Sorry, I am constantly around.
Commenting time is at
a minimimum..
They all speak to me:
sometimes alone,
like a solo cello with
its sad, plaintive voice,
tugging at my soul
like a magnet pulling
at life's deep mystery.
Or maybe a small group
of rowdy instruments
will gang up, into a quartet
or sextet or even a very
tough octet, eight musicians
playing as one, much like a
small miracle of both fury
and the gentlest softness....
But sometimes I go all out:
I take on a hundred or more
at once as they breathe life
into a vast bold symphony by
Mahler, Beethoven, Bruckner,
or scores of souls perennially
reborn in music, music that
can make its own magic,
coming wildly into my ears
while putting a taste
of Eternity on my tongue....
A Loner
Some people just have to be alone,
Not all of us get to find love.
Not all of us can be happy,
Most of us will spend our lives miserable.
But I shall save you from my misery,
I won’t let you end up like me.
For I only bring peace, love and empathy;
Disguised as my love (inside is a disease).
A ball of confusion,
A web woven by the fallen;
The women of past, present and future;
All gang up to tell me I’m a loser.
So kill me please,
I beg for death.
I can’t have love,
So I would rather be dead.
Than live one more second
On this putrid Earth.
It disgusts me,
It sickens me,
I despise having to live in this world.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.