Long Gladder Poems
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Moving out feels much sadder
than moving in, more gladder--
which is poor grammar
for severance of love's embodied glamour.
Packing up
feels more like packing in
and down,
cutting ties with my own stage,
this playful working space,
for everyday self
and other witnessing life
love
hate
joy
anger
courage
fear
healing
suffering
Not a fabulously grand stage
but my intimate memories
triggered by damp basement
through dusty attic,
inside resonant
and outside growing resilient,
front yard exhibitions
and back yard more inhibited glimmers
and shivers,
dimmers
and emotive rivers
Moving out
without regard for loss
feels too surgical,
masochistic,
violent dross,
silent shriek of bad faith,
cross,
divestment from personal
political
economic
cultural placement
more sacredly cherished
than secularly calculated
in clock time to move on.
My best therapeutic intent
to know I leave this tiny spot of Earth
at least as healthy
and beautiful
as I have found her
while unpacking
in her abandoned
neglected
bramble thorned sadness
inviting my hope-filled gladness
too few years ago.
The Barmy Army still wading among the dung
After Ashes tsunami any new songs now sung
Aussies smarmy but new Harmy..Josh Tongue
Dream of gung ho team does seem far flung
Baz loves betting & forgetting.. took a bung?
Beyond reproach coach on to job has clung
Some fans jest but suggest should be hung
For bish bash bosh tosh Mac attack’s brung
Yep Jacob up his eponymous ladder swung
Radder bowler Josh has climbed many a rung
Cruel BazBull rule made us all madder..stung
Cool fool with incontinent bladder & one lung
New flair heirs did woo with their foo & kung
We coo pair made us gladder.. despair wrung
No longer unsung.. Bet Hell & its fiery Tongue
I sail unaware
into
the ocean currents
of her life:
and
smitten, I
desire to ride
them with her.
Somewhere
along
the ocean
ways, a
seed of love
plants itself in
the soil
of my heart
and takes root
and grows—
only to perish
like
an embryo of
hope
that's aborting itself:
though I love
her still,
she cuts
and lacerates my heart
like a careless
knife.
In spite of
this cruelty and myself,
I look
for encouragement
in her stare.
And
at the outlines
of her
magnificent
form
I marvel:
she is
indeed
a Helen of Troy,
a Venus—
on
whose
loveliness I
so richly gorge!
But never was
a lonelier
man
more wretched
than I
am,
as she cannot
return
my
affections
with equal measure
of feeling
or passion.
I would be gladder
had she been unwedded
to another,
and could more
easily be
within my desirous
and jealous
orbit!
In time, I
never
see her
again;
and love,
or the similitude
of It—
like
some aborted
fetus—
flushes down the
toilet
and dies
with her parting
as well...
My dearest lover bought me a cover,
To help me sleep with warmth through winter.
Even when I sometimes felt somewhat bitter,
I hold this blanket, think of him, and feel better.
My dearest lover comes to me in any weather,
I wrap him in the blanket and hold him closer.
When he's held by me, he becomes warmer.
When I'm near him, my heart becomes fonder.
My dearest lover promises we'll stay together.
Every sweet promise makes our love deeper.
I only hope I can make us happier and happier.
I only expect he appreciates me as his lover.
My dearest lover makes me feel I too matter.
So I'll always make sure he is looked after.
He makes me feel so much gladder,
For he is as sweet and smooth as cake batter.
Mornings, light and smiling
Coffee brewing, black
Meat frying in a cast iron skillet
Grease, flour and milk, stirred together
Gravy poured over steaming biscuits
Granny’s breakfast – typically
Grown to life from a wood cookstove
Noon, gentle sunshine
Picking cornfield beans, breaking
The beans and then washing them
Placing them into a vessel, a pot
Seasoned with pork - fatback
Cooking over the sweaty heat
Of that stove where oak and birch
Smoked with flames of dripping
Perspiration falling from faces
Who were encouraged to listen
With wistful wishes warming
Hearts who know Granny’s garden
Will sustain the whole lot of a family
From the Appalachian mountains
Evening, flickering fireflies
Dancing through the night
Flavoring the heart with joy
As the porch swing squeaks to life
Reminding the heart that loves
Lives here, amid the beans and trees
The biscuits and pork drippings
Grease for gravy, seasonings
And the mind just a bit gladder
Because there is this devotion
Family with foundations of love
Brought to life by His presence
It is their faith that awakens
The mind, the heart, the soul
To the light that survives the test
Of time, of memories, of sighs
In the air of reminiscence, memory
Breathing music through the night
Singing praise to the God of love
The reason for all that delights
The wonder of a prayer satisfied
To the memory – this is the good life!
u CHOOSE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Theme chosen - 15.Love
April 9, 2022
I need to open up a case
And let my heart investigate
Why it feels gladder than
All the years it's ever been
I will open up a file
And start with your happy smile
That lights up when I walk in
The second item I'll begin
To talk about will be your eyes
Always holding a surprise
When they stare so lovingly
Like I'm the only one you see
Let's make this list a little longer
With your arms that have been stronger
That will hold me tightly through
The times I am sad and blue
Number four I can't describe
It comes from down deep inside
A feeling that is new and strange
But something I would never change
The next step is number five
It's what keeps my heart alive
With each beat your love will pump
A tune of thumpety thump thump
This list is starting to get large
Like the big energy charge
That zaps me when I am near
And tells me you'll always care
I love the great number seven
Always taking me to heaven
When your voice whispers so low
"I could never let you go"
Up ahead is number eight
Feeling there's no mistake
This relationships in motion
Moving along with devotion
Down the track of this love line
We're now reaching the clue nine
That are fingers soft and gentle
Driving me so very mental
Concluding this crime list is ten
Taking me right to the end
Of searching for something true
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To repeat all of the time
This fantastic list of crimes
Park walks
Long talks
Liking the vibes
Trying to go along for the ride
Date nights , date days
Spending time with you
Something I wouldn't trade
Laughing , romancing and let's not forget dancing
To the beat of our own song
I really dig you hun
Vibing,digging,
Thats what
Its giving
(Repeat 1 x)
Let's go
Let's see
Lets make this
About you and me
Learn about each other
In and out
Laugh more
Cry less
Lets bring out the best
Small things they matter
Im glad
But let's get gladder
Vibing,digging,
Thats what
Its giving
(Repeat 1 x)
Its giving
Me and you
I can enjoy this view
(Repeat once)
Vibing,digging,
Thats what
Its giving
(Repeat until chorus fades)
Written by
Concetta Hardnett
04/26/2026
This precious life was entrusted to your loving kindness;
friends and strangers mocked me causing endless hurt,
because I had a different prospective, a holier outlook
with a faith that only saints would keep from impurities:
infidels or fools were they to deny me the expression of my spirituality?
How did I resist every temptation, every deception by rejecting infamy?
O Father, in prayers I have spoken to you, laying all my faults
before you, nothing I have hidden: deeds you would have seen,
and words bitter or sweet that you would have instantly heard;
and should I ask for more compassion than those who have never sinned?
Only Christ was perfect and sinless, the Word who helped you create
everything from planets to stars, even larger universes than ours...
O Father, I'm asking for good things to make my living easier,
its not the materialistic ones, but all those offering an intense light,
that can uplift me in times of despair, console me and make me gladder;
and would I ask you to add more years to my already serene life?
Yes, I really would: to accomplish my mission and complete this long journey,
before I'll give up my spirit and enter the kingdom you have destined for me...
The atheist doesn't believe in Your existence, but admires a crimson sunset,
and a brilliant sunrise, never understanding the Creator's purpose;
that's why I am speaking with You with openness and clarity to obey and be blessed,
although Lucifer hides in the thick grass, transforming himself into a serpent:
He will try to deceive my loyal soul with empty promises and quick schemes,
never could I take his side, abandon You, my eternal God, and lose my peace!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Not fretting couldn’t be gladder about getting podgy?
Forgetting about a stodgy bladder that’s definitely dodgy?
Sadder even snotty about needing a potty..regretting being dotty
Betting some grotty grumps about bumps & lumps anything spotty
Sometimes memory stumps.. only remember embers now befuddled
Somehow the huddled cast of the distant past still cuddled
Ashes of once clear flashes of near yesteryear appear muddled
Ribald oracle.. grinning about going bald...hair thinning
Apart from the ears and nose where it shows..grows & flows
Can't pretend follicle foes & woes.. do descend dear friend
Clearer you're now nearer to the rear end than the beginning
Refined increasingly find you do become more kind
Other than the tumour of another baby boomer
Defined needy seedy greedy.. must feed me consumer
Not a rumour..increasingly I pined for candour and humour
Chaps can perhaps blossom as a wined & dined late bloomer
No remorse.. scheming larrikin leaning's still in force
Gleaning the gleaming meaning of life is all about giving
Dreaming.. loving.. smile beaming and "living" of course
Tell those little sh*ts to get their grubby mitts off our adored BBC
Applaud our global player & noble naysayer slayer lobal pedigree
Proof sleuth with facts truth acts & fights spoofs aloof uncouth pacts
Boorish bores banging on more doors scores culture wars at all hours
Sod off you toff …from the off this creation belongs to the nation is ours
Beacons lights..Aunty's moreish delights & rights wrongs for you & me..
The BBC
Want views on that ruse which skews slews media does confuse
Paul & Ian with their peers spurn amuse burn abuse turn the screws
Politicians churn flee the crew on their pews glee at taking the pee
Cheers for 30 years of you know who.. Have I got News for You
The BBC
The tally of trail blazing skits..wits rally with amazing gambits & hits
Us all gladder for the traitors creators or scribes jibes of Blackadder
Del boy joy rapscallion with medallion rules..only fools & horses
BBC our greatest cultural forces can be racy & pacy going doolally
Partridge in a flair tree or nothing can scare her..Sarah in Happy Valley
Or might reckon Barry does marry Essex should beckon.. Gavin & Stacey
The BBC
A fix of the world’s best radio mix…our choice the alternative voice of 6
Caress finesse of TMS ..best way to end Saturday bless Match of the Day
All the classical Pom aplomb from a night at the Proms in the Albert Hall
London realms cover to cover from that other older brother Robert Elms
Our plea she must be free to bewitch so don't bit*h & ditch the licence fee
The BBC
Which is why especially today I say Aunty…our everlasting British Broadcasting corporation
Ignore twits & gits & with the rest of the nation..thanks for casting our cultural celebration
I lean on you..critics in a tizz hither thither we dithers it "Withers" lean on me...love u to bits!
Won’t lie will tell us why.. the objective high vis collective “WE” …that is and could only be
The BBC