Long Godspeed Poems
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Gren's Evergreens (Golden Oldies) # 2
Sponsor: Teppo Gren
I chose song #2: Unchained Melody:
Oh, my love
My darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
Godspeed your love to me
Lonely mountain gaze,
At the stars, at the stars
Waiting for the dawn
Of the day
All alone I gaze
At the stars, at the stars
Dreaming of my love
Far away
Oh, my love
My darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
Godspeed your love to me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Poem: Sweet Tunes Of Lavender
Sweet tunes of lavender, sacred euphony of scents,
Desiring your embrace is the only thing that makes sense.
My dear man, you have been sent if only for my wishes,
I long to hear your voice, please don’t keep me in suspense.
It’s been forever since we stood under the stars and danced,
please promise to allow me to continue this true romance.
You may seem far away but I can still hear it in the distance,
your intimacy for me, please give me one more chance.
Sweet tunes of lavender, smooth kisses while we sleep,
My dear man I beg you, have I fallen in too deep?
As slowly as time may run while I await your delicacy,
please know I need you; without you I’m incomplete.
It’s been forever since we laid in bed, loving for hours,
I fancy your every move, let’s make this lifetime ours.
I need you when far away I can’t stand missing you,
I bring you a diamond ring with one yellow rose bud flower.
Sweet tunes of Lavender, melodies ringing in my ear,
I sing to you my last request if only you would hear.
My dear man, I only ask for you to hurry, Godspeed,
take my hand, feed my soul, and come to me with no fear.
***I know this is for a contest, but the poem I wrote is a personal one. It basically explains my relationship with my husband. I hurt him, and we worked it out and I asked him to marry me. Unchained Melody always reminded me if that time in my life. Lavender is one of our favorite scents.***
Date Written: April 23, 2016
A Tribute to Jayson, My Brave Warrior
My dear son, Jayson
When you called late last night to let me know
You were deploying to go overseas tomorrow
In spite of my great resolve
I broke down and sobbed.
The little boy I lovingly nurtured
So witty and good-natured
So kind, compassionate, and loving
You’ll always be my sweet boy
Even though the world now sees you as a grown man.
Recalling special times when I showered your baby face with kisses
Or tickled your armpits
Howling with laughter, you would beg me
“Do it again, Mommy, I love it!”
I remember all those moments we had
At times rocky, sometimes sad
But most of all memorable and enjoyable.
I remember your growing pains
All your questions, anxieties, and mixed-up emotions
Yes, we made it through hurdles you and I
Making me laugh, making me cry
But taking that journey together was quite priceless!
You’re now a strong, valiant, young man
Willingly putting your life on the line
Many have thanked you for your service
And, my brave warrior, I am so proud of you
When I hear your humble, heartfelt reply, “Glad to do it!”
You’re just simply the best!
While you took a minute to leave the nest
I’m grateful for the extra time we were given
But I know
It’s time to let you go –
Go take your rightful place in the world.
You’ve grown wings like a fierce eagle
It’s your time to fly high! Now soar!
But remember that you are always a part of me
And even though we may no longer hold hands
We are still holding hearts.
These tear-splattered pages
Reflect my anguished heart
Knowing you’re prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for your country
I pray that you will return to me safe and sound
I love you, my hero - my precious son.
Godspeed!
¡Vaya con Dios!
05-16-2014
Contest: Relationships
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Placement: 1st
Back on the river, forward into the howl of the unknown,
for three days Sergeant Floyd has been crippled by excruciating pain in his abdomen,
as the only man here trained in internal medical matters it is incumbent on me to treat him,
Doctor Rush's "Thunderbolt" pills are failing to alleviate the malady
and the ground Peruvian bark hardly sedates Flyod, his agony is bleeding into the eyes,
for 48 hours the rains have been rampant making the river sizzle in cool agitation
the mosquitos are swarming like whispers in a brothel
they are the devil's needles, we resort to spreading lard on ourselves as a repellent,
ironically, despite the downpours the wind is high at our backs
so the sails are up and we are moving swift as a curse off a witch's lips,
Sergeant Pryor woke on the boat this morning with news of death
his voice didn't wait for breath, the steps of his boots broke open my irritation
after informing me that Charles had recently died,
I believe he expired from a ruptured appendix which we had no remedy for,
he had the soul of a lion, Godspeed to him,
while I slept my spittle smeared the ink in my journal
forming a pictorial omen of a tombstone on the page,
the only question is whom be it for,
Clark has identified a suitable burial place for Flyod on a large hill,
no one speaks, its just the slurp of the paddled water
and a handful of gold finch birds that seem determined to skip on the wind
reminding us that there is always a place for a soul to go,
coming up on the riverbend we are accosted by an armada of geese
so plenty that the trees wish they had that number in leaves,
my Lord, the ruckus these creatures are generating in honking indignance
as they lift into flight is nerve pinching,
its like an army of imbecilic people shouting in panic all at once
yet these geese are noble in their beauty and militant nature
and I see this moment as a sign that no Indians will interdict our passage,
J.A.B.
Oh no!
When a boat departs from the bay,
Floating on the white flowers of the sea foam,
When a tiny bit of the Moon wanders across the oceans,
All coloured in the ash of clouds,
Not even then the rest of your life
Under the colour of the night
Won’t let you escape her,
After whom the sadness mashes the pale forehead
As a dried saffron!
Not even then!
In the night that swims,
In the silver of undreamed nightmares,
In the landscape,
Where the stars on the horizon hang as oranges,
Is it the port calling or
The soft blueness in the mountains of lemon trees?
The condor of love will puncture the heart with its insatiable claws!
You will wander as a pirate with a scar,
As red as a drop of the Caledonian dawn
Leaning over an abyss,
Strangling the heart as a pirate.
The sea will be singing while touching the red hips,
When you try to choke the dream,
As you would choke a seagull.
The stars and the leaves of the clouds,
Far on the horizon will remind you,
Of the scream of penguins,
Or of the purpure colour of sunset.
You cannot rip the golden rings in the sky,
Or the halo of the Moon,
And the image you see,
From the sea foam to the bird’s feathers.
For that love
You will sprinkle the bread crumbs across,
As the oblivion you are seeking now
Wherever you go Godspeed with you!
Suddenly, the diamond night, when you do not expect it,
Cloaked in pain and longing,
Will squeal from the top of the antenna
That is extended from your heart.
Oh, love! The one heavier than death!
Stop blinding the skipper!
You are turning the life to the lascivious magic,
Of the chariots in the starry sky,
Effortlessly strike the heart,
As a worm does it to the rotting flesh of a bamboo tree.
I could drop my poetry in a moment and go bust,
If I knew you would stop following me,
As a black night atop this mast!
What just happened?
I ask myself this simple question every day.
How could I have let you...?
How was I so blind....?
I ask myself this simple question every day.
How could one person absorb my thoughts?
My feelings?
My values even!
You turned the hourglass.
My hourglass.
What had once filled my soul with light?
Fell like grains of sand through the gap.
My one weakness.
How did you find it?
Is this okay?
I didn't mean to!
I'm sorry!
Those two words came from my mouth so many times.
Like vomit.
Constant. Uninhibited. Subconscious.
I try so hard to hate you everyday.
Well, I suppose I do.
A little.
You don't deserve anything less than my hate, my spit, the hidden evils of my heart.
The evils I try so hard to conceal.
Yet. Everything you did?
You hurt me.
Did you mean it?
Did you truly intend to find the scars I already had?
Did you intentionally reopen them?
I will never know.
Ah, so there goes my sick curiosity again.
The compassion and trust that lead me into your game in the first place.
You used it.
You used all of my compassion, and trust, and... love.
To your advantage.
For your own gain.
As much as I want to hate you.
You know what they say, eye for an eye.
.......
I can't.
In fact?
I feel sorry for you.
I'm sorry that for some reason...
You feel inadequate.
Amidst this huge world, you feel small.
Insignificant.
Worthless.
That's why you placed that on me?
Isn't it?
but this time?
I will not wish upon you pain and suffering.
But love.
Self-love.
Love for life.
Love for the beauty around you.
And that. Is my healing.
You killed my spirit. You placed upon me your pain.
However.
I am not a victim.
I merely passed this test.
I'm stronger because of you.
I hope you find peace one day.
I hope you break this cycle.
For the first time?
I say.
Godspeed.
Form:
The Playbill for the 9/8/01 show at Godspeed Opera House falls from my palm to the floor. Here I sit, with a drugged hangover but alive. The last thing I remember is a suicide note in the Underwood typewriter on my desk, beside an ashtray of Blanche's lipstick smeared butts. Putting back on, the bifocals that had been dangling from one ear; I frown. I can't remember arriving? A phone's ringing; I stumble toward the tone. Odd looking thing, I think, as I bend over. The note taped to it says; it's a cell phone? "What the hell?" As I flip it open, I'm tackled. My heel slips on a broken pencil; I'm down. "What did you do? You bastard," he bawls, waving an airline ticket in my face. Looking toward him, I notice the stage still lit. He grabs the cell phone, "What the hell is this? You a commie spy?"- The 'phone? screen?' says 'Fred go to the opera house by midnight or you're both dead.' The curtain parts revealing a pool of blood: a chord is struck.
It's midnight accordin' to the ticker. I have a moment's relief before my arm's wrenched behind me. I'm cuffed. There's a shout from the lobby and the sound of sirens. Lifting me, he shoves me to the wall; locks me to the door pull. The theater hall appears empty except for us. Through a door, he charges. "Back here guys." The SWAT team arrives. "Smells like the dead in here Marco's, where's the body?"
"Ask him. Take him out and open some damned windows will ya." Two of the gorillas toss me on the porch under the moth laden lights. Just when the cop was about to kick me in the head; a woman screams. The coppers run inside. I hear a crash and a half dozen clod hoppers trompin', then through the door rolls a single gold earring. I scream "Blanche!!!!!!"
The crew hollers CUT-PRINT-It's a WRAP. I smile as Blanche saunters out.
The Rich:
Our lunch is so tasty and luscious
It’s like in the mission we will see
Hmmm….the air so cold and affectionate
I can finally use my money as well as charm
Crap! My gadgets will indeed save me
Branded clothing will be an impression
That is why; I am the best missionary here
Because I have everything the world
Could ever desire.
The Intellectual:
Yes, to teach is my dearest passion
I’m not like you bird brains
Who are ignorant of knowledge and prestige
I’m the only one who can feed minds
One that thinks and reflects
I will make them understand
The meaning and essence, from Soc to Sartre and beyond
That is why I’m the righteous lad
To be an instrument of God
The Humble:
Just think of the adventures we will encounter
I’m not that rich and smart
But to be with the people is our real task
Not to impress, not to be a cutie, and play with coconut husk
All I want to do is be with God’s people
To serve Him with all my heart
My oblation is everything
This sacrifice is only for Him to offer
Not for man but to the transcendental One
The Adjudicator:
That is all true of what you say
But remember that every minute there may be danger
Snakes, NPA’s, ancient spirits and the current as you walk along the river
Remember, you are all unique in different talents
Use them well to do great things
Be sure that before it gets dark you will find your way
Because the best among you
Just lies beneath the veins.
How precious is the life given for mission?
You will all now become a real servant of the Lord
Doing the same, but in different ways
And let us all rise and pray
Evaporate! Be gone and sleep early
For tomorrow you will get wet and dreary
Finish your food; it may be your last
Godspeed and in Him put all your trust!
~Amber silents, daylight violets;
Custom stares;
Love comes here;
I wave you into the Harbor of Halifax.*
Love is where there is caring faith;
Loves committed grace;
A chance we come together;
Sail to the ends of the earth with me.
Writing this love letter, caressing rhymes;
For all times;
Shall we write together "letters" and "words";
O how those sparks in the night sky fly!
O love of love lets us write nigh...
Come write with me, calvary so lets elaborate,
Shall we, yes we will collaborate...~
Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken Ecclesiastes 4:12 NIV
the amber silents,
ebb and flow of us sleeping —
our nestled heartbeats
daylight violets
slow jam moan, linked eyes exposed. . .
sip passion’s sunrise
what do we know of
loves committed grace — over
the moon for a time...
lovebird custom stares —
a chance we come together
for all times — shall we...
yes, in one breath, dear,
we will collaborate — kiss
my excited lips.
love is where there is
caring faith — knees share rug space. . .
coupled hands amen
braided together —
come write with me, calvary
in poetic sighs
o love of love, He
lets us write nigh, powerful —
His ink never dries
Love comes here, so
lets elaborate — our plans
blessed with Godspeed
With caressing rhymes
thus writing this love letter,
ne’er “Dear Jane nor John”
Shall we write together "letters" and "words"
— silver frames apples of gold**
Whispering wings ~ feathers afloat,
Molting and marvelous, magnanimous
Wonders, alighting in familiar places.
~
Each feather remembers the warmth,
The pear-shaped cradle ere birth.
The quietude-nest, the guardian enfolds.
~
Even in rapid flight, into ebony night,
Wings, like a butterfly’s, though they sing,
trumpet no sound, unless one’s in tune
~
With God, unless the Spirit is just right,
Unless the Father is prepared to save
Or take away or just delight - just because…
~
Molting and marvelous, plucked from memories,
The magnanimous calls to the perceiver —
The flight, the whisper, the hesperus-hour,
~
Tingle of senses, the angelic featherbed
Releases an echo of space and time
To loved ones left behind…a single dove.
~
Even the blind, deaf and dumb recover
their senses, grab hold of the felicitous flight
…somehow, one’s guardian angel delivers this gift.
~
Godspeed, feather-light, wings that glow
whiter than snow. The Holy Spirit prepared
to disentangle truth from fiction in one’s frightful season.
~
Guardian-wing’d, miracle snow-drift, lights up
those dust-filled dendrites, attempts to clear
the cobwebs — spread of peace and light.
~
Next to her, smiling wide, exact replica
of an angel - Mom. Next to her frame —
a feather-gift treasured by my father.
1/12/2022
Lament
Brooding days,
Vanquished in the unconnected gloom,
Shower frost,
Standing watch at dawn to pierce the morning
With an artic tempest,
Swirling ‘cross a land lost in forgetfulness:
Sighing
Beneath borderless views of snow unbroken,
Where nothing dare disturbs
The unchanging vision
But a single line of footprints
When skies of grey and bleaker daylight
Lean so close to earth
They lay their heaviness upon a homeless wood sprite
Wandering in the raw breath of twilight dawning,
Caught by phantom gusts
Spiraling down,
Shivering as the brumaled wind
Runs its fingers
Through the marrow of the soul
Where slumber languishes,
Icebound
As plodding steps
Frantically searching groves of tangled silver linden,
Pursued
And haunted
By the relentless midnight sun;
Errant fugitive,
Followed by the wispy remnants of a golden morning,
Trembling
As barren aspen branches
Beneath bright errant bursts of fiery lights -
Racing
Across
The northern sky -
Taunting
Tortured
Eyes
Seeing only to remember;
Grasping
For a single crocus
Plunged into yearning
Until the boreal shadows
Touch
The depth of darkness
Bidding nordic sprite to sit,
To rest,
Curled up against a frozen birch of black and white,
Taking final flight on tattered winds
Heralding the touch of sunlight.
Godspeed my friend