Long Going on Poems

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Spaceploitation 1

With looks of celestial damsel
On mission of mystery unravel
A fairy flies from foreign land
Fabulously to discover dreamland
With colourful feathers silky
Plumage so soft as cream milky
With a huge brain and physique
Seemingly bereft of travel unique
Marches with her wings vibrant
Only to devote herself on front 1

Space being her intriguing place
With supersonic speed that’s ace
Surmounting all hurdles many
The angel gathers speed gluttony
Hovering over planetoids tiny
Cosmic powers she has bonny
Revolving around many orbits
Surpassing all heavenly bits
Eventually lands on planet afar
Near the superb system of star 2

The landing leaves no stone unturned
For she knows her vision churned
Deep insight and attitude awesome
Make her an alien winsome
Tidy looks and trendy gait
Extremely stunning to catch and get
Her device offers a beverage strange
That has unique aura and rage
Pinkish perfect pure porridge
The cosmic food it seems from fridge 3

Tailor-made for her specific physique
Is the space suit with electro-magnetic
Induction full speed and winsome
Mere touch causes sparkle wowsome
A protective shield made of an alloy
Thus making her a space decoy
Satellites she whirls like a key chain
Space capsules she twirls on her mane
An enormous angel from an alien abode
Now at my solar system crossroad 4

What could be her mission possible!
Has been my subject of marvel
Is it to bring apocalypse fatal
Or just to revamp my earth petal
Before her I am like a neo natal
What to do to know her mettle
Time passes and she starts 
To peruse my earth full of arts
Wonders at the seas and bays
Astonishes at mountains and rays 5

I am now beside myself 
As she drills the earth deep herself
Oh soon there comes an mystery man
With torso made of crystal brand
The drilling continues till the dusk
There is a mist and her voice husk
I know it’s their language mutual
Based on the heavenly acts factual
Perhaps the mission is to find gems
In the earth stomach that overwhelms 6

Thus I’m sure she is down for mining
And exploiting the earth for farming
The drill lasts for hours twenty
Finally come out jewels aplenty
Like that of ocean-churn by Gods
Here going on planet-pumping by rods
The purpose is to adjust the axle 
Though imaginary-full of miracle
Eventually gathered all gems
Putting axle in firm place     7
Form: Couplet


The Deceitful Child

All  of my children did come home
One at a time, almost like a metronome.

It made me happy, as I felt needed
Yet, when they wanted advice it was never heeded. 

I love them all with my entire being, 
Yet, not long it felt like they were fleeing.

They are now adults with lives of their own
However, for their past, some refused to let me atone.

My youngest one always acted entitled,
Then when he started working he made me feel vital.

Then one by one, as their lives moved on, it seemed they forgot about me.
Only on holidays or my birthdays did they act around me with glee.

Once festivities  were at an end  they found a reason to flee
They always seemed to prove my fear that they were there out of duty.

Then my youngest started calling me every day to say I love you
I started thinking  I was forgiven for all he had gone through.

I was soon to learn how wrong I was
As he started rumors, making a buzz.

And soon most believed these rumors so heinous
He was showing everyone he was a Janus.

Somehow the others believed him
It left me feeling my future with my kids was grim.

Then one son came to me to talk about my actions
Talking to me and making it look like we were doing transactions.

Yet, he was telling me the things my youngest had said
Then he gave me an ultimatum that led me to feel as if my heart had bled.

The very next day, I woke up to a message from my other mother
Another lie told by my youngest made me feel like he wanted to separate me from his brother.

Now that son and daughter will not returns text or a call
Making me think they believe the lies one and all.

All because I was tired of my youngest using me
Threatening me that in my life he no longer would be.

All because I told him until he could talk to the respect I deserve
Somehow my telling him this must have struck a nerve.

Now he is trying to turn all his siblings against me
Using lies and my fears in order for me to beg and plea.
	
There are two he cannot turn
Oh, how it must make him burn.

He is not being an adult, but a deceitful child.
I am praying my other two can help me get reconciled

To the two who believed their younger  brother
And have them understand what is going on with their mother. 

Until that time comes, I sit here and wait
I have to leave this all to God and to fate.

© Kristy De La Keur Scoville
Form: Rhyme

Jet Lag

I see him stumbling around looking for something to hold on to but there was nothing there except the open thin air and a bunch of bureaucrats wearing thin frocks walking around on wet grass with fake greetings and a forced smile that caught us by surprise. 

Bob has been in the news and this has left everyone confused he is running for office again, midths the barrage of criticism running down his spine weakening his legs and making him look like the walking dead. At first, he looks like a robot coming out of a hut, and then it appears like a man in despair. There was no one around to cover him except for gravity and his own sanity. 

Bob is fun to be around but this time his attitude makes me frown, he does some weird things, like walking with his nose pointed in the air and use his finger to show you the clock.  

Sometimes he is agitated and his temper cuts deep causing everyone to proceed with caution while he rolls the dice and shuffles the cards. He is a nice person to be around but the mood swings will drag you down; yesterday I invited him for tea, we had a small talk and it left my aunt weeping in the dark, what is really going on with Bob?  

Bob is a very good man but sometimes he looks very sad; he has a very tight schedule and attends more than ten meeting in a given day, heaven knows how he stands up while going through the gate.

 He knows his work quite well and he can talk up a storm from hell and still remain true. I watched him come and go and how he presents himself while he rides the big ship, and the ceremony he attended with the mercenaries hiding in the bushes and the guard of honor marching every hour to pay their respect to Bob.  

He wasn’t quite in it, he was always looking for something to hold on to but the air propels him along and John, his closest friend, stood next to him and pushes him on. 

I could sense a silent annoyance rising up in john’s emotions, as he reached for support while climbing the steps. He attempts to hold john several times from his back but John shrugs and show him the way with a polite gesture. 

They and had a cup of tea towards the end, and spend some time feeling out each other. What was said, I really don’t know but the cluster bombs exploded and close that chapter. The tennis match was a blessing in disguise, and it is an indication of how the story will end, I love happy endings.

There's a Whole Lot of Shaking Going On

there's a whole lot of shaking going on and you're all shook up
but that is how life is when you drink from God's cup
life can take unexpected turns and have you all spun around
just remember who's in control and has the power to settle life down
now Paul and Silas were in prison for simply preaching the gospel
but after praying to God He then did the impossible
 
when life has you all shook up you need to stand back and sit still
don't be negative, have a little talk with God and then wait on His will
continue to do what is required of you and trust in God to show you a plan
for God can open new doors in a way you might not even understand
but that's okay as the word of God says to lean not towards your own understanding
but to wait for the will of God to intercede and to do what the Spirit is demanding

if you have a relationship with God He might shake up your normal routine
to take you out of your comfort zone and into a place you've never seen
it might not make much sense to you and you might even disagree
but God knows what is best when it comes to your destiny

accepted beliefs, traditional concepts and that's how it's always been done
but a whole lot of shaking will be going on and your faith may be under the gun
sop forget those accepted beliefs and let God guide you along
allow Him to shake things up and put you where He knows you belong 
as no weapon formed against you will prosper nor come to fruition
allow the will of God to shake things up and put you in a better position

now the adversary also has the power to shake things up in your life
just recognize the enemy for what he is and then call on the power of Christ
a young girl who was demon possessed had caused a riot to manifest
with lies told against Paul and Silas they found themselves under arrest
but Paul and Silas did not possess the spirit of fear
for they knew that the Lord God would always be there

so at the midnight hour when all hell tends to break out
that's when to the Lord our God Paul and Silas did pray and shout
and lo and behold God answered their call
an earthquake occured and shook the prison walls
then all the cell doors flew open 
and all the shackles were then broken

for when the praises to God go up the blessings of the Lord come down
and there will be a whole lot of shaking going on 
but that's okay you're on sacred ground
Form: Epic

Homeward Path

Homeward Path                                  11/08      Roger M. Landry
Wise men say, stay out of the fray,
And perhaps that is logical, and even soundly psychological.
They advise, do not go my son into the dark wood; you will only come to no good.
And I ask, if the road is less traveled, it will leave me baffled?
The trail in the forest tall could it leave me feeling forever small?
Alone, will I not even hear the sound of the stately tree’s fall?
In my craven travels, shall I perhaps see the pellucid pillars of heaven seven,
Or experience the depraved depths of perdition?
But, what if there is no one there to tell? 
No singing angels, or laughing demons from hell.
Shall I be weary of my iconoclastic dreams?
Because, in my youth, I had magic visions of being the princely toad, 
Of crossing elegantly the paved road to fame.
However, carrion birds now read, feed on my bloody entrails strewn along the lane.
Now, I only wake up in the fevered night, no princess to soothe my stifled screams.
Beaten and torn, shall I become the salacious stripper of old? 
That, with nagging words, expresses my vulnerable, and sagging soul.
Like a lost muse, shall the tiger burning bright, in the forest of the night, 
Become my one and only frightful and guiding light?
I can see quite far from the gritty solitude of a lofty mountain. 
But, would rather sit with my smiling children by a bubbling fountain,
Have someone park my expensive car,
Or sip beer, with friends, in a quaint neighborhood bar.
Going on a shopping spree and wearing designer clothes,
I think, is superior than to society loathe. 
To have opulent gold is better than writing poetry in poverty, wouldn’t you agree?
Or, would it be better if I contemplate my fate, eternally alone, under a frigid night star,
While I pluck loose strings on an out of tune guitar?
They say that if you favor the glacier-blue, the flavor will get inside of you.
Now that I have made enough bad choices, because of those niggling internal voices,
I am eternally lost, my mind unloosing in a wilderness of my own choosing. 
Like a pharaoh, I know there is a divine treasure in my head,
But, I work and work, feel dead, and just can’t get out of bed.
The road has its own agenda, to which I know my heart must surrender,
Therefore, I shall curb my shameful wrath, 
And trust that my soul knows its homeward path.
Form:


The Alta Dena Cow

There is, in the Los Angeles area, a well-known brand of milk, called Alta Dena.  Near also,
is the city named Alta Dena, and my grandson lives there.  I asked him if he had seen the dairy there, and he told me that it does not exist.  I then asked him if he had seen herds of milk cattle there and he said that he had not, and doubted that there were any.  Of course I wondered why the milk had such a name, and jokingly asked him to look for at least one cow in the city, since it was well built-up, and there were no obvious open pastures at all.  I told him that we could only conclude that it this had to b a very famous and rare cow that could supply all the milk needed by a large urban dairy, and thus must be insured, protected from the idle public, and secreted in some private home where she would not be disturbed.  The whole story and speculation grew into a riotous family "search" for this wondrous animal.  I, of course, ask my grandson each week when I see him, for a progress report on the search.  Finally, I have decided to turn it into a poem:

      A Search Continues

Something very hush-hush is going on
and Alta Dena folk aren't going to tell.
All cowdom secreted within its bovine lair
yet Bo would stare contentedly at us
with no incursive moo directed at the hellish
vine that she must eat, in lieu of meadow grass.
That ever-present cud must still
be masticated; yea, her celebrated udder
must be filled.

Yet none admit to having sighted her. 
Beastiana though she be, no Altadenian
will dare so much as low on her behalf,
no bull, Eden-bound, is ready to exchange
his bold, testicular desire 
to service mewling ruminants
who merely run away.

Nay, uncowed are they, though cowed they be,
and cowards not--and if you do not see
their wisdom, chalk it up to power,
Bo's mammary magnificence, so easily
in jeopardy before a single squeeze,
not of a nipple but a trigger
thus applied, and speeding out of sight.

Challenge, indeed, our quest to find
this noble and prolific queen
who dominates with graceful quietude
her milky empire slurping quite
without a care, lush liquid destined
not to slosh within her, rather
in those tumescent tummies
ever crying out for more.

Would I betray them for a share?
Of course. Away with those content
to sour the milk of human kindness
with deception. Let the  search go on!
       ~

The Ultimate Makeover

A woman one day had a total makeover 
she completely altered her body and face
But only one week after all the surgery she had 
she found herself standing before God's pearly gates
She said Lord, "what's going on around here 
You told me I had twenty more years?"
The Lord replied," I didn't even recognize you 
and that could be the reason why you are now here"

What is the ultimate makeover? What is it that we feel we must change?
What are we really reaching for? What do we hope to attain?
Botox injections, breast augmentations, changes that require a surgical team
We sometimes take an extreme approach to obtain the  American dream
Pimped out, tricked out the ultimate fantasy car
But without God in your life you won't get very far
The ultimate makeover what you really need in your life
Is to accept as your Savior the Lord Jesus Christ

We all have a God shaped hole in our hearts that only He can fulfill
And no makeover of your fleshly self can completely satisfy that bill
To live your life to the fullest extent you must makeover your inner being
For your soul is the essence of who you are the core that God will be seeing
Neither bulking up nor becoming slim and trim will to God make much of a difference
It's the grace, peace and serenity inside you that will change your outward appearance

So confess that Jesus is your Lord and Savior
and believe His Father raised Him from the dead
For your faith in the Lord Christ should not occur only inside your head
It's not just the consciousness of your thoughts It's how your soul accepts God
So drink of the blood of the new covenant of Christ a makeover transforming your heart
For true belief involves your whole being it's not just cerebral and intellectual perceptions
It's the heart , mind and Spirit of God that should be your personal inceptions

The ultimate makeover the ultimate transformation
Will occur when you accept Jesus Christ's resurrection and salvation
So be recreated with a clean heart renewed and born again
the ultimate makeover that comes from within
But if you continue to hold sin in your heart there's not much that God can do
And you'll have a harder time finding forgivingness if your heart's not contrite and true
So ask the Lord for peace and grace and let the Holy Spirit inside you take over
Be revived, renewed and born again the ultimate Godly makeover
Form: ABC

Shogun Series Bill's Side 11 Richard Pickett Story

(Continued from Bill's side 10“)
     
    "Never  mind that. I know you well enough to know you know what you’re doing. 
Just stick with me and keep me informed especially on this one. I’ll give you as much 
leeway as I can. I got a hunch this case is going to be rough in more ways than 
one. Get me? I’ve been around a while. I didn’t come with this morning’s milk. The 
Captain and I already been discussing this one with the Commissioner. This 
vigilante thing is dangerous and already out of control.”
Bill still didn’t know where this was going but at least so far he hadn’t been 
demoted to walking a beat. His hope and nerve  was picking up. This Griggs guy 
was tough and had a rep for no bull. “Yeah, that’s wha ….”  
“Just shut up and listen, Sgt. Lipton. The Captain doesn’t want any part of that 
vigilante case. He wants a good record for an upcoming political agenda. That’s no 
secret. He doesn’t want anything to do with this case because he’s afraid it won’t 
get solved and his record will be stained with it.
You just stick to what you’re supposed to be doing and keep your ear to the 
ground. From experience I know that vigilante.. if it’s just one,... isn’t going to work 
out his issues in just one precinct. Keep in touch with what’s going on while you’re 
on and off duty. If you got to check something out off the cuff, you are to ask me 
first. Get it? Mums the word to the Captain. If he hears anything about our talk I’ll 
deny every bit of it and you’ll be left holding the bag. Do you get my drift here Sgt.? 
………  …    .. …. “Cat got your tongue?”
“No sir, I just…uh …yes sir I mean ….I get your drift.”
“Good , I enjoyed our conversation…now haven’t you got someplace to go? It’s 
knock off time. I believe your up for mounty duty tomorrow.”
“Yes, I believe I am. Is there anything else Lt Griggs?”
“Yes, close the door on your way out.” Bill took his hat up off his knee, stood up and 
walked the three steps to the door when Lt Griggs said without looking up from his 
paper work on his desk, “Bill…?
“Yes sir?”
“ Glad to have you back“, he said with a more relaxed tone, “Now get outa here.” 
And he went back to his case file.
Bill smiled, went to his office, traded his ball cap in for his Stetson and left the 
building mulling over what the Lt had and had not told him.   

(to be cont on Richard Pickett poetry site)
Form: Narrative

What Do I Tell My Children?

If you've lived in outback Queensland just as I have,
you must've faced at times the scourge of drought. 
You'd have watched the senseless dying of your livestock
and felt completely drained and numb no doubt.
Did you ponder on why life can bring such sorrow,
when other times you’re dealt a joyful hand?
Though the bitterest of blows is when the children
express, "Dear Daddy, we don't understand."

How I hate to see the hurt upon their faces,
but more so when they give your hand a squeeze.
And the question that forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children?  Tell me, please!"

Then one balmy morn way back there in September,
my children settled down upon the floor,
as they planned to watch Play School on television,  
but little did we know what was in store.
How they sat perplexed at seeing the explosions
of buildings there upon the tele screen
and the aftermath then left the children reeling -
left wond'ring at the images they'd seen. 

Though I sensed the children's minds took on the notion,
that things they viewed were happening overseas,
how that question still forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children?  Tell me, please!"

Hosts of men, who searched the mountainous piles of rubble,
live vividly within each young child's mind, 
plus the endless walls of pictures of lost loved ones,
placed there by anxious folk now left behind.
In their classrooms children talk about the horror
and can man stop the threat of war somehow?
Though our home is miles away from New York City,
our children know that life is altered now.

As my children leave the light on in their bedrooms,
lock windows which exclude a nightly breeze,
yes, that question still forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children?  Tell me, please!"

We had planned to fly the children to their grandma’s,
who lives just north of Brisbane on the coast,
but the thought of going on a 'plane is not on,
as flying is the thing they fear the most.
So as parents we have organised this summer,
a camping trip with some of their close friends,
but I fear the world will never be the same place,
though live in hope the terrorism ends.  
   
All I wish is for my children to be happy,
that innocent young minds can be at ease. 
Though that question still forever haunts my thinking,
"What do I tell my children?  Tell me, please!"
Form: Ballad

Premium Member The Day I Almost Died

Life carried on brushing up pain
Each day I could hardly remain
Darkness seemed to be my only course
As I falter and enter ultimate remorse
I could not see what's going on before me
As life seemed dim I could hardly see
There only seemed to be one way out
Only one that I have known about
Sleeping pills were taken extremely
All at once, I was feeling sleepy
In a last minute impulse I called emergency
They swiftly came as I was quickly
Fading fast from this course of reality
I was nodding off to sleep completely
They kept me barely awake to the hospital
Where I was contorted to spill all
I was gagged forcefully as darkness came
Awakened again to find more pills taken
My throat agonized with pain within
From the horrible gagging motion 
Pill after pill flowed out of my mouth
As I neared closer to oblivion, further south
Finally I was allowed to sleep
My dreams now were mine to keep
When I awoke people surrounded me
Looking very worried, disappointed really
I had survived the attempt on my life
A fear I will always remember, the strife
Now the world is back into my life again
The pain is seemingly always pounding within
Worry is written all over my family
Fear escapes my mother’s eyes completely
They do many tests to see if I’m stable
Then the diagnosis is depression, certifiable
Therapists become a part of my new life
All present and accounted for, no new strife
Things weren’t anywhere near like they were
When everything was dark, fearful for sure
I hated life, it was lifeless, demure
Then it seemed I had the perfect cure
But life chose me, and I survived
Now things work simply and I thrived
I had the presence to make the best
Of what life brings, to take in the rest
I hold dear now all things that this life brings
A warm feeling comes when fear is fleeting
A perfect happiness comes from simplicity
Bringing complexity down to earth sincerely
Love came swiftly with joy in the heart
Never felt more pure, never to be torn apart
Now that I had survived the brush of death
I now take pleasure in each and every breath
This is what happens sometimes when death knocks
And life gets switched around, time tick-tocks
Now since the terror has come and gone
Joy and pleasure have arrived as one
The future now looks a lot greater
Now that death will be a lot later

Russell Sivey

Entrant into Richard Tarr's "suicide survivor" contest

11/12/2012
Form: Rhyme

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