Long poem by
Isaiah Zerbst | Details
From Judges 11.
His brothers cast the young man out, the child of an harlot;
He fled away to distant Tob before they found an outlet
For anger, more than what they'd done, to fully disinherit
And drive him from his father's house, though not for foul demerit
Within himself, but all for greed- it made them hate their brother.
Now Jephthah lives his life alone, without a father, mother;
He goes about with newfound friends, considered rather shady:
At least he does not get too wild; he found himself a lady,
And has a one and only child, a daughter like her mother.
She's tall and slim, with long, black hair; as fair as any other,
And loves to dance and sing and play her timbrels with the daughters
Of the mighty men of Tob, who play their music by the waters
Of the brimming banks of Yarmuk; lovely music, song, and dancing,
In the evening, in the twilight, which is wordlessly enchanting;
So much so that all the stars come out before the sun has drifted
Below the burning desert sands, thus Nature's course has shifted
From what it was, what e'er has been his want, his call of duty,
And all to see some pretty maids who sing and dance with beauty.
The Ammonites come, bent on war, on taking land and cattle;
They'd kill the men of Gilead and claim the spoils of battle:
The land that once belonged to Sihon, which Israel gained possession,
Then Joshua allotted to the sons of Gad and Reuben.
Thus Ammon claimed what was not his, but what he thought he needed;
And Israel must be captained well, or else they'll be defeated.
The elders ride in haste to Tob, to Jephthah's lordly dwelling
To find the man who would be best and see if he is willing;
But Jephthah said, "Did you not hate me? Did you not expel me
Out of my father's house, and now you come to me and tell me
Of your need when in distress? If I by some rare providential
Act of mercy be successful, will you lay aside resentful
Ways and set me over you?" And this they would; they needed badly
A man who knew the art of war, who charged in battle madly;
So they agreed and made him captain over all the forces,
The leader of the fighting men, the officers, and horses.
Then Jephthah vowed a vow to God, he said, "If Thou wilt give me
A vict'ry over Ammon, then returning I will give Thee
Whatsoever first will greet me at the doorway of my dwelling
As an offering of fire for a savor sweet of smelling
Unto Thee." And having spoken he departed to the battle
With his whole command of soldiers, with a clash and tramp and rattle:
And they smote and killed the Ammonites until the Plain of Vineyards;
In twenty cities passing through as Jephthah drove them downwards.
The town of Mizpeh heard the news and every mouth was voicing
The praises of their leader and his soldiers with rejoicing;
Then, as they saw him from afar, the townsfolk all assembled
To cheer their hero, now their judge; but mighty Jephthah trembled,
For as he came unto his house his daughter came to meet him
With timbrels and with dances from his door she came to greet him;
Her raven tresses bouncing, and her flowing dresses swirling;
Her face alight with happiness, and glowing as she's twirling.
She smiles at her hero from the battlefront returning,
But he cannot return it for the raging storm that's churning
Inside himself, and making him so weak and sick and frightful
For his daughter, lovely daughter, blessed with grace and so delightful.
And he said, "O sweet Celena, you have cast my spirit downward,
For I've vowed a vow that's binding, and I cannot take it backward;
I have sworn to make a sacrifice of fire of whatever
First would meet me at the doorway of my house; but I had never
Thought that it should be a person, but a heifer or a doeling,
Or perhaps a dove or pigeon." Here he stopped, for tears were rolling
Down his cheeks, and rent his clothing as he stood there, crushed and grieving;
Amazed at what he'd done, and even now not quite believing
His hand must wield the wicked knife; his hand must light the fire;
His hand must end his daughter's life; his hand must build the pyre.
He stared at his offending limbs, said, "Would to God I'd lost them;"
For now he had to tell his wife how much his oath had cost them.
Then Celena, brave Celena said, "Perform what you have spoken;
For the Lord has taken vengeance and the Ammonites are broken:
Only grant me two months longer so that I and my companions
May bewail my virgin state among the mountains and the canyons."
One word was all that he could say, the one word, "Go," and held her
A moment to his bosom as his teary eyes beheld her;
A chain of gold about her neck, dress gay with colored sashes;
A tremble in her ruby lips, a teardrop in her lashes.
Then turning from her father, to the wilderness she stumbled;
Her eyes so filled with tears that down the road she tripped and tumbled,
And lay a while in the deep, deep dust that rose above her;
Then stripped her golden necklace, one gold ring and then the other
And threw them from her to be swallowed by the dusty powder:
"What good is gold?" she softly mumbled, crying ever louder.
Retreating to the lonely cliffs, the desert's jagged mountains,
Where desolation reigns enthroned, except for by the fountains
And streams that bring a thread of life, that ever downward trailing
Flows by the place where seven maidens gather as they're wailing
The loss of faithful friend, the favored, beautiful Celena,
Who would not flee, but e'er would be the dutiful Celena,
Submitting to her father's vow, though leading to her dying.
The place that used to ring with song and laughter fills with crying;
And music now is sighing of the maids and lonesome whispers
Of the wind. And those who danced are aimless wanderers and drifters,
Seldom speaking: consolation is but vain when 'tis imparted
To a soul whose days are numbered when its life has barely started.
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Poet Destroyer A | Details
Lost in a poets convention,
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'---
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line,
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned
I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.
I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us,
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance
This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style
Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside
I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement
Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie,
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly.
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."
Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words
Scribe ML., where are you my friend?
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!
Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan,
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words
Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.
Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M.,
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY
Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry,
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community
Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix
Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M.
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.
Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget
Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.
Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you,
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.
Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't....
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong
Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships
Before I forget,
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:)
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"
As you know my kindness is my weakness
Now it's time to be strong and move on
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
The Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Long poem by
Teppo Gren | Details
September 1975, Mount Druitt, Sydney, Australia
Even more amazing than having my first relationship being ended in such a dramatic and painful way was that I remained friends with Johanna. Although it was clear to me that any romantic involvement between us was out of the question, and she was seeing another guy, I kept seeing her every now and then. As it turned out Johanna was not only seeing this other guy, Gary, but he had moved in to live with her. But still we continued as friends even to the extent that I spent couple of evenings at their apartment with them chatting. Or let’s say that they were doing most of the chatting and I was listening being the shy, quiet person that I had become. Looking back it was somewhat awkward. I also got to know a bit about this new boyfriend of Johanna’s. He was totally different to me. He was outgoing and confident, but I felt there was also something threatening about him. Like Johanna, he smoked pot and I think the times I sat with them they were high.
Seeing Johanna, however, after a bit of time became less frequent. That’s why it came as a surprise when Johanna phoned me one evening in September to say that they were coming to see me in Mount Druitt. Johanna had never been to my place before. Forty-five minutes later they arrived in the white Holden station wagon with black curtains covering the side windows. They didn’t want to come inside, but wanted to talk to me, so we sat and talked in their car. I was intrigued to know what prompted this need to see me and they quickly enlightened me. Johanna was leaving to go back to Perth the next day. I was surprised as I didn’t know that she was planning to go back to Perth so soon. Gary was upset about this and said how terrible it was that we would be losing her. He was visibly distraught and it was clear that he did not agree with this plan of Johanna. I was surprised to see him take it so seriously since people can still keep in touch even if they are far apart. Neither could I understand what stopped him from go-ing with her.
I became really worried when he started raving on about how can he live or how can we live without Johanna. Then he pulled out a handgun from under the car seat and said:
“Let’s end up our misery here and now. Let’s kill ourselves”.
He couldn’t be serious, but on the other hand it wasn’t a joke either, nor would it have been a good joke. I had always felt that there was something about him that made me feel uneasy. Now I knew: he was unstable. Johanna was able to calm him down and thank God he put away the gun. Anyhow the main reason they had come to see me was so that Johanna could say goodbye to me. After the goodbyes they left as quickly as they had come. There was something very disturbing about the whole incident. I didn’t understand what was going on. Why was Johanna going back to Perth by herself? What prompted her to decide to go back? There were many unanswered questions.
Because of all these unanswered questions, and because the news had come so abruptly to me, the next day I thought I would go to the airport to see Johanna off. I got to the airport in time and looked for Johanna. After some minutes I finally saw her and went up to greet her. She became upset at me and asked:
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you off and say goodbye”, I replied.
“That’s why we came by to your place yesterday. To say our goodbyes”, she said bluntly.
She asked me to leave it at that and walked away towards her gate. I didn’t receive any answers. In-stead I was more confused. Was this an act? Was she running away with her boyfriend but didn’t have the nerve to tell me? I never found out. Once again I respected her wishes and didn’t pursue after her, but instead left the airport. It was September 1975.
I didn’t hear from Johanna again until I received a Christmas card from her. The card very simply said:
“The saddest words of all are these: It might have been”.
Time had elapsed and the whole affair with Johanna and her part in my life was now only in my memo-ries. Sad memories. Too much had happened for me to feel any kind of love towards her. But I realized I still felt angry. That was evident since I didn’t want to reply to her. I didn’t. My only thought was that the message from her was silly. “It might have been”. It was her choice to dump me, not mine. Live with it. That’s’ what I’ve had to do: live with the pain of being rejected and the humiliation of how it was done. I was able to move on and forget even though the scars were painful and deep. The depth of the scars and the effect of it all would not be fully realized until a long time to come.
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Diane Lefebvre | Details
His walk into town would prove fateful that day,
As his mind wandered idly while finding his way.
His footsteps were brisk like fall chill in the air,
Past Wellington Gate, south of Denby town square.
He paused for a time as the hearse passed him by.
Its dark, somber outline contrasting the sky.
Stood still as it turned in through Wellington Gate,
Down this last dusty byway of sorrow and fate.
A pair of dark geldings, black plumes on their heads.
Seemed subdued in their manner while carrying the dead.
Their hooves beat dull thuds on the cold, hardened sod:
Alerting the devil, but more hopefully, God.
The box in the hearse lay there stark and austere.
Poor souls final journey, last trek anywhere.
The small group of mourners now somber and mute
Trailed after the hearse in reluctant pursuit.
His thoughts then turned back to concerns of the day.
The errands in Denby that had brought him this way.
His footsteps trudged on toward the town just ahead.
On past this bleak place with its fields of the dead.
And the day passed by quickly as he made all his rounds,
Attending to business before leaving the town.
Then an overdue visit to a friend from the past,
Would leave his mind reeling, in tumult, aghast!
For Nell Reed had returned from her home far away.
Nell Reed had come back, never more would she stray.
The scene he had witnessed at Wellington Gate,
The pine box, the mourners, lamented Nell's fate.
Then a blow to his middle - sharp twist like a knife.
Twice now he'd lost Nellie the love of his life.
Nellie, oh Nellie sweet child of his youth.
How could he accept this - admit to its truth?
She now lay in her coffin - pale, cold, not a sigh.
No words would she speak, not one single goodbye.
No explanation of the times in their past:
Of unanswered questions, he could now never ask.
He then found himself back at Wellington Gate.
Fall shadows had lengthened and the day had grown late.
Dead leaves of November swirled under his step,
Invited him follow to where Nellie now slept.
The despair that he felt huddled there by her grave,
Made him seem as a man now most surely depraved.
Harsh pleas for the answers to questions long asked,
From someone once cherished, now part of the past.
Where had she gone while he fought in that war?
Why did she leave, did she love him no more?
Upon his return, mind and body all scarred,
To face life without her - so sad and so hard?
He cried out in frustration, old sorrow and pain,
As he knelt by her grave there on Evermore Lane.
And the day turned toward evening, but he did not see,
Trapped there in his memories with no place to flee.
Then he sensed someone else, just behind, but nearby.
A young man with Nell's look, most especially her eyes.
In his hand was a letter, tinged yellow with time-
Nell's neat, tiny script penned on each faded line.
"She told me about you and what you once shared,
And asked me to find you, to tell you she cared.
She wished you to have this," his voice held a plea.
"Her last thoughts on this earth were of you and of me."
"The letter was written a long time ago,
When I was a child, before I came to know.
The man I called father, in the days of my youth,
Was only her husband; a well hidden truth."
"He raised me and fed me and treated me well,
But he never did love me and I always could tell.
This letter from mother should bring you at last,
Answers to questions that have troubled your past."
And the son placed the letter in his fathers cold hand,
Waited a moment - made a half-hearted stand.
But he turned then and left - back through Wellington Gate:
To the place he had come from and his own earthly fate.
And his father by the morning, lay frozen and dead,
On Nellie's cold grave with the message unread.
He never did view those last words meant for him,
It grew too dark to see as the cold night set in.
He succumbed to that cold and to Nellie's mute call.
And died where she lay on the last day of fall.
And the years passed on by, like the years always will.
They now lie there together, both silent: both still.
And all who'd remember lie near them as well,
No one now survives for this sad tale to tell.
Yet the legend goes on of this man and of fate.
It's still whispered while passing by - Wellington Gate.
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
george franklin | Details
DUE AGAIN, AGAIN
ALL, IN VAIN,
HIS BODY HALTS,
SAYS “STOP THE PAIN ‘’
FAILS TO OVER POWER
THE EVIL’S CLAIM
TO HIS DOMAIN
THE TRIBE THAT LOVES
LOOKS ON DISTRAUGHT
AND UNABLE TO HELP
TRIES LOVES SUPPORT
RETURN TO SAY GOODBY
THE WILD MAN'S ON HIS WAY
BEHIND EYES CLOSED SO TIGHT
'' WE'VE, COME TO SAY GOODBY ''
A FLUTTER, A SMILE
A DISTANT LOOK
MARGARET'S IMAGE HOVERS CLOSE
AS JACKIE KEEPS A
WATCH OVER DAD,
HIS FEET AND HANDS
LIKE THE VIBRANT
VERN I KNEW
A BODY LEFT BEHIND THAT NIGHT
AS OFF HE GOES
TO TEAR AHEAD
'' REMOVED,'' SAY YOU
' ' OUR MAN ABOVE
IS EXPECTING YOU''
THOSE LEFT BEHIND
HOPE TO GATHER
HIS TRIBAL PALS
MEMORIES AND ASHES
THE FISHES WAY
AND TREAD AGAIN
AND LEFT US WITH
AND CARING TRUE
OUR MORTAL FEARS
AS WE MOURN AND CARE
LAUGH AND REMEMBER
HE GOES AHEAD
FOR HIS AGENDA
IS '' FORGE THE WAY ''
HERE'S TO YOU
A GLASS OR TWO
WE RAISE IN PRAISE
MAGGIE! ARE YOU COMING?
JOAN AND THE OTHERS WILL BE ALONG LATER
Copyright © george franklin | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details
Enjoy our parting day
the young girl child,
now full-grown wise Elder,
the brother she had taught to flex male muscle
without overbearing her Sister Gaia powers.
On this classic sun-baptizing fragrant May morning,
reflecting this same gently caressing day I was born
into earlier centuries of flowering cultures,
she prepares to leave me
as the length of our pilgrimage together
grows long enough to tip more poignant hello
into operatic final exit goodbyes.
I remember what I might have felt at two,
when she joined me
inviting me into our special shared world,
loving our polycultural identities,
nondual twins since infant-fairy magic,
not having previously known
how lonely love is without her.
Now, to stare remaining years ahead
without seeing and feeling her morning through evening present voice,
facing my own ecology of each Ego identity dying alone,
inevitably without her, or anyone,
dying without incarnate memories
of unconditionally cooperative love.
at two or three,
toddling outdoors in my most terrifying wild ways
exploring gardens and barns
chickens and pigs and milkcow domesticated wildness,
and returning to your crib to report back
all these wonderful worlds we would welcome
if you could only learn to walk and talk
I need not say farewell
as I learn to see forward as dying
into these deep rich memories
of learning to walk and talk with Sister Gaia's Welcome,
yet sometimes tipping, Wagon.
disappears as we stop over-investing in dominant negative
Yang, outweighing Yin's more integrally inclusive flow powers,
politically and economically,
personally and as a species,
intergenerationally and cross-culturally
now under-invested in multiculturing mutual-equity cooperative investments.
What is our mutual time-investment balance on this farewell date?
Do our mutual equity values line up, match, balance, absorb any lifetime losses?
Sister Gaia's regenerative trends
grow ever deeper cooperative equity-reinvestment designs,
policies and procedures for further self and other development
through EarthTribe Revolutions,
WinWin Life as LoveGame Health Theory.
We give evil, dissonant farewells,
nondual negative Janus-faces of Yang/Yin imbalance,
by seeing these toxins and poisons
and personifications of DeviL,
as other than absence of good
Yang/Yin balanced nutritional Co-Creation Stories.
This Final Farewell Memory
Earth's Embryonic UnFolding
of Love as stretching BiLateral Time's Black Hole
(0)Rigin Tipping MidWay ReVolutions
Yang(+) = Yin(-,-)
ThermoDynamic Prime Eulerian Co-ReGenerative Universal Function
Intelligent ZenZero Tao-Balanced fractal RNA-iconic-ionic enlightenment
as Time's bilaterally unfolding regenerate matters
of EarthTribe's healthy enculturating-revolving futures.
remembering my original embryonically environmental Hello,
Here We Are
incarnating in and out,
back and forth,
up as down,
Yang-out as Yin-in.
While Autumn farewell bears time's reputation for messy falls from grace,
this is prophesied in spring seedling beginnings
bearing message memories merging coarising births
of EarthTribe multigenerational,
His/Her Creation Story,
coarising nondual identities,
within Earth's ecology of regenerate-revolving design,
culturally deep enriching outcomes,
by turning down RightFisted AnthroSupremacy
to balance Left/Right Zero-Centric EcoSystemic Investment
and divestment, double-negative equivalent
WinWin DiPolarity Outcomes
ReGenerate Network Game Theory Development
from BiLateral-Temporal Prime Relational (0)-FractalFunction.
Enjoy this parting day
I have so loved beginning again together,
our mutually co-invested Creation Story.
Enjoy our continuing
final farewell day.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Laura Loo | Details
Your Own Favorite Poem Contest
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
"GOOD BYE, MY LOVE" Part I
Written: December 14, 2015
After the snowfall but before the lily blossoms,
you were this woman who left by choice,
all natural decisions made from a place of despair,
darkness consumed you as you fell into an addiction
with expressions of deep sorrow and remorse...
step by step by step...
foot by foot by foot,
slower than a run, yet faster than a turtle,
closer and closer towards your oblivion...
Into mysterious unconsciousness,
"Goodbye, my love,"...as you walked away...
After the spring but before the leaves,
I found you drained of energy,
completely exhausted into nothingness,
and through it all, you still loved me...
seems like yesterday we walked side by side,
you..me...the gentle breeze...
You need not ask for forgiveness, sweetheart,
it has been granted long ago,
and before you were gone,
I already whispered,
“Goodbye, my love", as you walked away...
After the sun but before the rain,
You tore out the pages from your favorite book,
You wrote it at such a tender age,
Too young to understand,
yet too old to make believe,
big brown eyes,
wearing a ball cap on your head,
smiling while hiding and running while crying...
I couldn't handle this defeated hopelessness
you wore on your sleeves,
patches sewn on to cover up
the burn holes...
I sit at your grave once again,
no tears, no laughter no guilt...
I stood up and whispered..
“Good bye, my love", as I walked away...
"HELLO, MY LOVE" Part II
Date Written: February 29, 2016
After the hot sunshine, but before the icicles started
reflecting prisms of rainbows,
I was this woman in poor health.
I spent days, weeks and months lying in that
cold hospital bed. That musty room smelled like
disease and loss. After time passed I was ready to fly above.
My husband kept his promise to allow me to
die with in the comfort of my home.
My bed...my bathroom...my life...my family...my choice...
When I first got the news that I had lupus,
my ears got quiet, yet my mind screamed in fear.
So, there I was battling this deadly disease.
I had been sleeping for three days, hooked up to
an IV of pain medicine to keep me comfortable.
Once I heard my daughter say,
“it's ok mommy, you can let go now, I will always love you”,
my left eye opened with a tiny tear falling
down my cheek. I knew it was time.
I walked into the light and there I saw her.
my sweet sister. She wore smiles gleaming
and our hearts immediately connected,
melting together like wax from a candle.
All the terrible memories I had surrounding
her death had vanished. All I could see was
her big doe shaped brown eyes, staring at me in
There in sweet heavenly bliss I whispered...
“Hello, my love,” as I walked her way....
After blue clouds but before the kingdom,
she was absolutely glowing in luminescence.
I had waited five years for this exact moment.
She took my hand and we walked through the
garden with trellises of roses and to the left
were bright colored lily's. Her favorite flower.
For her, there was no more smiling while hiding
and running while crying. Her defeated hopelessness
turned into a promising and auspicious reality.
For myself, there would be no more heavy breathing
and muscle aches with terrible pain. Holding
hands she led me to the golden kingdom.
It actually did have white pearly gates!
She walked ahead and turned around to me with
excitement saying, “now is the time to follow me, dear sister.”
Taken aback by the glorious light, I whispered...
“Hello, my love,” as I walked her way...
Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: February 26, 2016
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Jennifer Griffith | Details
I still see your smile
Though I haven't seen it in a while
Now that I have I feel some type of way
All it takes is a message one random day
You been gone from my life for so long
And now that you're here I doubt where I belong
It wasn't a problem before
Didn't think I cared anymore
Yet now I find you constantly on my mind
My own escape I cannot find
Lost in these streets full of direction
And for what…a little of your affection?
Wondering if it's all worth the pain
Knowing now nothing from it will I gain
Yet still thoughts of you won't leave me alone
No matter what I do to get them gone
Those thoughts run as deep as the ocean blue
But you still refuse to love me too
I try and find peace in the beauty of the land
Only to find it's you I don't understand
What more can one person do
I've done all I can to prove my love to you
But just as hard as the bricks I used
To protect a heart that had been so abused
It may have been able to keep the pain away
Yet still it's something I fight each and every day
Trying to tell myself I get a little stronger with time
Attempting to believe it's not just another rhyme
I take a second look only to see
That these words I write continue to remind me
Of a love I use to own
Night or day I could call you on the phone
But then as the next song begins to play
I feel a tear making its way
Down my once dry cheek
Once again when it comes to you I feel so weak
Unsure what all this might mean
Caught somewhere in between
Holding on to all those feelings for you
Or knowing that letting go is what I must do
I sit out by the water to blow off some steam
Watching as the water flows over the rocks and continues down stream
For a moment I manage to find some peace
Knowing that in time that feeling will cease
It helps to escape my thoughts even for a short while
With the sun shining bright I can't help but smile
Reminding myself that one day I will find my way
Even if I can't do it today
I guess you could say that missing you
Is something I've gotten rather used to
Though some days are easier than another
I find comfort in my mother
Though she can't be here to help me get thru
I remember what she once said about someone just like you
You were just one chapter in my life
And even if you didn’t make me your wife
Someone someday will see what you never did in me
In time I would find the man you couldn't be
In my heart I know just what she would say
And that helps me get thru another day
Without your love…without you
I know that like you I will be okay too
But down the road you will find it is me you miss
Every smile and every kiss
But by the time you do
I won't be there to come back to
Of that much I can be sure
Cuz a love that was once so pure
Has been stained with pain
Thoughts of you driving me insane
My heart deserves better than that
Late nights, sad songs, and there I sat
For so long thinking back to what used to be
Only to realize the truth was it was me
I was the only keeping me here
Because of you I was full of fear
Afraid someone might do the same as you
Terrified my heart would get broken by someone new
And I'd be just as hurt as I was before
But I can't live like that anymore
I have to find a way to move on
Your memories must be foregone
It's becoming more clear what it is I must do
Just had to find myself a new view
To realize all the possibilities out there
Had to take a step back and breath of fresh air
To see all the things I let escape me
But here and now I have set myself free
Ready to give love another try
And finally tell your memories goodbye
Can't believe how much better I feel
Never again my happiness will you steal
My thoughts, my feelings, my mind and my heart
All these things are ready for a new start
For once in my life they all agree
I finally set myself free!!!!
Copyright © Jennifer Griffith | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Anita Dozier | Details
If out of darkness comes light, then my life must be one ginormous ray of sunshine right about now. Coming out of a 14-year classroom coma, I am now awake, yet I continue to slumber afraid to take the sleep mask off. Like a blanket being taken from my eyes, I can now see, yet using my eyes to peer through the darkness searching for that one ray of light produces pain much like the pain of stepping from a movie theater out into the bright parking lot blinded by sudden light. As cliché as that sounds, mine eyes have seen the coming of the light of my life, but will I pay for causing you all slow deaths? Through institutional darkness, one lone beam of light has emerged through the blanket of the forest with fauna so thick I can barely wield my machete to dent that dense thicket of poisonous shrubbery. Can I now see the darkness for the trees? Can it be? Am I really still alive? Did I have a hand at killing you all? After all these years crawling around in a black hole of the urban school setting, can I really be allowed to awaken to think for myself no longer perpetuating the status quo of public school bureaucracy? A single pinhole of a sun’s ray shines down on me through the crack in the eastward facing window, warming my crown that perches on the top of my head. I wear that crown like the queen who smiles below to her servants. Do I choose to serve the public any longer now that I realize my sentence is your sentence? Do I choose to report to the encompassing ebony of the sterile school for assorted abuse? Where there was a comforting death every 5:30 a.m., I arose to face my sentence in the sanitarium of the public school. Do I respect myself for exposing you to such darkness? No wonder you little people show no respect to your teachers. Should I expect respect from others after what I have done for the teaching machine? The system smothered me as I sank deeper into the abyss of the education system, yet I sucked the life out of you, too, children. Closing in around me, my soul was crushed by the force of stifling children from seeing the light. What is this freedom I now experience? Is this real? Am I dreaming? That alarm sounds no more, but that shrieking sound alerts me of danger as it still haunts me in my daytime hours where I pine for you all. There is danger in stumbling through darkness just as there is danger in revealing light. To be blinded no more, I feel my way to safety groping along a thick patch of freedom. From the pen on my resignation letter, I signed my career away to light and to life, though my guilt remains, as I am guilty of stamping out the light of children’s creativity for so long. There will be a price to pay, for this royalty reins no more. I no longer lord over small children in the classroom acting as a programmed machine of their minds. Wake up, children. Report to school like the good little soldiers you are to represent my kingdom of darkness, for it is time to lower the veil over your eyes. Sit in your assigned seat. Now, let me read you a bedtime story so that you pick up your number two pencils to write your tales following the prompt of being lost in the woods alone with your nightmares of light. I will guide you no more. You will serve me no more. Children, good night.
Copyright © Anita Dozier | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Wilbert Dela Cruz | Details
My mom was everything to me
She was my every day, my every morning
She was literally my life and I lived every single bit of it, in her world
She was my inspiration and her smile, was a sun-shine in my face
Every morning I would wake up and the first thing I ever thought about, was her
She would see me come down the stairs and automatically wave her little hands
“Good Morning, Bert!” she would squeak out, followed by a smile as big as the ocean
In return, I would play with her cheeks, pinching both sides as I would often do
While she, on the other hand would always try to get a bite off of them, just for fun of course
It was our special ritual thing we do every morning, as if exchanging something more than words can say
My mom was my greatest dream of all and I mean that in every sense of the word
Because for a dreamer such I am, no dreams has ever come close to my undivided attention
I am also a freewill-thinker but where it comes to my mom, there can only be just one choice
I would choose her every time just because I am her son; it’s my duty to return the love, she has instilled in me
For a long time now I found a great calling preparing and giving her daily meds and insulin shots
To her I was her private doctor… To me, she was my princess, my queen and I would do just about everything
I have learned a lot being with her 24/7, 7 days a week, like being more of the patient trying to solve my problem with patience
Well, I mean it’s a work-in progress kind of thing but I truly feel that I’m a lot better compare from the old me
Little by little, day by day, one day, it just occurred to me that I was becoming the person, I can consent to be
For me helping her with her needs, she has helped me figured out my own path into the person I’ve always longed to be
You see, often, I’ve cried out, in silence about trying to find my own purpose in a world, filled with mysteries and illusions
And like I said earlier, every time, I would wake up and I would find her downstairs with her smile fixed directly at me
If you can only feel things in my shoes, no other kind of happiness can ever feel so pure and complete, it contented my soul
My mom loves to garden and because I love her and I wanted to make her happy, she made me fall in love with gardening
I could not believe it at first but gardening became my Superman’s fortress of solitude, it’s like it’s a whole new different world
She has given me so much of everything; I only wish that I had given her something even remotely significant, in comparison
She didn’t just shaped me to be the person I am today; I became the person who would happily choose to be guided by her
Because there’s nobody else in the world like her, no heart can ever be as pure and innocent and good as her heart is
My mom was one of kind, a diamond if the rough, a jewel in the night and my sole treasurer of dreams
I don’t know what I would do without her, I have not one clue what my mornings would be like without her smile
I’m not even sure if I can ever get passed the darkness that I will be facing tomorrow; I only know one truth for now
I love my mom… I love her more than the meaning of the word love; I love her transcendently from infinity and beyond
Copyright © Wilbert Dela Cruz | Year Posted 2015