Long Graham Poems
Long Graham Poems. Below are the most popular long Graham by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Graham poems by poem length and keyword.
Arthur was 16 when he entered the system
i could never ask him why
he was too old when i met him
he was on soo many pills
and not very pleasant to talk to
he heard voices
he would sometimes get up and punch someone
but who knows if they deserved it
or not
after being in a mental institute
from the age of 16 until the day you die
wouldn't you go crazy
the first real guinea pig
i met him
i never cried for him and his pain
but he always wanted to check my shave,
perhaps a victim from some sick war crime
I'll never know
Graham is not from our country
and I've written amnesty international concerning his welfare
they say its not any of their concern
as he wears shackles and chains on a daily basis
and goes to the bathroom in a diaper and eats cold food like sandwiches
because he hits people
mainly his doctor who lies to him
in my opinion
just like the doctor lied to my dad about me trying to bite him,
but i have no proof
just lucky I'm not in chains
going to the bathroom in a diaper
I know he committed a crime but two years locked in one room
alone with a window curtain opening and closing to spy on you
is enough psychological insanity to inspire mania if you ask me
Andrew was a crack head
and held up some convenience stores for some money
so he could get drugs
now hes been in the funny farm for like twelve years
still trying to get a hold of his next hit
watching his youth disappear
watching his life fade away
jumping through the hoops of a system that holds your freedom above you
that may or may not ever grant it
Andrew ran away
gave it all he got
saw people chained to the wall
people dieing there from the age of 16 for ridiculous crud
and knew they were toying with him
so he ran away
now he on a unit where god only knows
what mind hell they're putting him through
what rainbows hes swallowing down
Shelley was the meanest woman i had ever met
but it was always worth seeing her smile
don't know haven't figured out if the drugs really helped her
but she was in that place since she was seventeen
and died in a group home from some sickness
they claim wasn't related to her meds
I'm no fool, the stuff they pump us full of is deadly and toxic
i never made it to Shelly's funeral to see her murderers
there crying fake tears
for someone they would never really miss
The storm of the decade
The news declared.
Snow fall was heavy and deep.
Schools closed their doors
And the snow beckoned me.
There is such a beauty
When the world first turns white.
Snow on the branches
Drifts deep and high.
The world stops its chaos
and breathes a peaceful sigh.
I pulled on my boots
My coat, gloves and hat
Out into the frosted world I ran.
Heaving plows were fighting back.
Pushing snow off the roads.
The rhythmic sound of many shovels
Would clean off the snow.
For one precious moment
There was white all around.
A stillness, a quiet, as I walked toward town.
Then I saw him,
An old man,
Walking barefoot down the road,
Ragged and torn,
His head bent in sorrow
Eyes filled with pain.
Leaving naked footprints as he walked.
The sight of the man’s tears
Marked on his unwashed face
Disturbed me,
distressed me
Shockingly, somehow changed my perception of time.
Shattering my illusion of beauty all around.
I wondered at the wounds
That had broken the man
Why was he walking unprepared for the cold?
We passed without speaking
The moment was lost.
I’d rendered no comfort, no warmth
No care for his wounds.
He had cast a quick glance,
Then continued on his way.
Spring came early that same year.
The image of such need lingers still,
Haunting my memory.
John 21:15-17, ESV
“15When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?' Peter said to him, 'Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.' Jesus said to him, 'Feed my lambs' (John 21:15, ESV).
“16He said to him a second time, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me?' Peter said to him, 'Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.' He said to him, 'Tend my sheep' (John 21:16, ESV).
“17Jesus said to Peter the third time, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me?' Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, 'Do you love me?' and he said to him, 'Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.' Jesus said to him, 'Feed my sheep'” (John 21:17, ESV). (Graham, 2015)
This conversation took place at Tiberius (lake Galilee), after Jesus had risen from the dead. Peter and other disciples were fishing. Jesus appeared, caused their nets to be filled, and invited them to add some fish to the breakfast he was cooking.
HANDMAIDEN OF MOON DANCING
fly me to stars in the thrill of one swan night
over a crescent arc to feel a flame of sighs,
teasing dreams so silent yet ever wild
and like a neon light, speak through your feet ,
your ribs twirling in drips of summer’s rage : throw
away the restraint of confined movements
dictated by a body unmoved; of a flower
keeping her flutters from crawling freely on grass
give me a sway through leaps unto ocean’s swell
without need for thought or reason, rather,
lift the flesh made from love or hate, to burst
with primitive heat; fingers liquid in motion unbidden
by a sacred place that doesn’t exist on earth, when
all but the fragrance of a naked skin expresses
the very force that writhes in the faint of depth,
licking the cells inside out.. weightless, bold, soft
dance the crazy dance with me just because
such passion needs to flow along rhythms
burning within… till a weave of spin breaks
into a trance blending a wanton glide with
pirouetting flights raw in some meadow clearing,
pious pose under the tangerine of touch…
handmaiden of moonlight dancing on flames
pluck those eyes ,rise above mortal remains.
©
*i tweaked this free verse with a sonnet’s volta
in the last two lines (10 syl rhyme count instead
of the usual 8 syl pattern)
----------
*Martha Graham is the pioneer of modern dance. As a ballet dancer
and choreographer, she introduced inner movement emphasizing
emotion, spontaneity, and an exploration of psycho-social themes
( feminism, political protest, and labor unrest)through free -flow
of innovative steps, thwarting cultural control over conventional,
metered dance. Her last performance on-stage was in 1970,
at the age of 76; she was working on the choreography for the Olympics
when she died in 1991 at the age of 97.
Graham was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1976
by President Gerald Ford and cited by Time Magazine as
"Dancer of the Century" in 1988, aside from her other accolades.
*Source: Wikipedia.com and www.voanews.com
*Please watch
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUoMc5Am_c0&feature=related
‘ ‘’’’’ ‘’’’
For Cyndi Mac Millan’s Maverick by nette onclaud
Tony Abbot ex minister prime you came on the net
To spoke at length, to good friends of mine. Graham
And Jhonny ‘a real friendly talk’ about
How you as a part-time fiery walked some hot
Walk. In 2018 when you helped
And that’s all good..' Where so many did lose their lives
And Homes possessions as the blazes grew' as they
Never should Brian Naylor and his wife died now he was
An anchor!! That was a man! he
Spoke true. Not a zak a dozen his thoughts
And style. And you know that too! He’d beat this drainstream
Media, by fifty country miles. And Graham
And Jhonny well i give all respect! Yet they trod sorta
Easy with you Tony.' In style But me?? Well, now i'm
Different.. I ain’t done (you bet!) yet!
Cause you know ( the story ) and the tipans
That roam, that old bush city, that satan calls
Home! Once you were destined for much better
Things yet you joined ‘that circus you ran in
The rings’ you know the skulduggery the
W e f plan. The noble reasons? I.e. genocide
Deception and even the scam, on lesser humans? Women children
And men, the old and vulnerable, just inspect your inner
Soul And see if there remains anything the devils not
Stole? Why not interview Bosi?
Adam Antic too. Turn to Malcom Roberts and the country
That nurtured the beginning of you!! Turn to the
Ringers to the cockys and such' to truckies
And Doctors. To the police who resigned
And all those WHO STOOD TOUGH! Just like Graham
And Jhonny' 'they gave about all that they
Had. (Yet couldn’t really confront you). And that’s real sad
They were concerned
At any backlash.. I reckon that now? Yet I
Will not stand on ceremony. I will push you
And how!! I ask you Tony will you
Put your cattle in the yards? Will you give out some fruit?
Shake the limbs by each bough . eat and drink out of silver
it’s not really that hard! What value gold
Against honour? Turn from the murder' about now!
Raise up a standard, for that’s by far
Your best shout!
Seek out Babet and Pauline Neil Patterson
Rod Culleton they're still about.'
And they are just a few. A whole country is willing wanting leadership
That will do.!
(it just needs more people to stand, who are – really, true blue!).
©Joe Maverick 23rd May 2024
His light shone brightly, like a beacon on a hill
shining forth for all the world to see.
Boldly did he proclaim the gospel, the good news
the very heart and soul of Christianity
Jesus, the Way, the Truth, the Life!
He was a man of conviction, a man of faith
a man of integrity. A man whose words
lit up a fire, a stirring, in the hearts of the masses.
Words from God, Words from the Bible
Words inspired by the Holy Spirit.
He came from humble beginnings
a farmer's son from North Carolina.
Yet God had His eye on him
no ordinary man would he be.
God had a plan for this young man's life
a plan that he could never even imagine.
God raised this man up to become a
preacher among preachers
a modern John the Baptist.
His crusades packed multiple coliseums
the world over, as the words would ring out...
"Repent and be saved! Believe the Bible!
Confess your sins! Ask Christ into your
heart, and He will save you!"
And they would come...
I was a young teenager in the early "70's
when I attended his crusade in Oakland, Ca.
with my family and my best friend.
I had already received Jesus, but my friend
the daughter of a Baptist minister, had not.
But she did that night. She heard the call.
Yes, the call went forth mightily from
that powerful preacher, ringing out,
strong and sure, with conviction.
Many people rose from their seats
and poured down the aisles.
My friend also went down, and I with her.
The choir sang, "Just As I Am".
There were tears, there were praises!
I will never forget that night.
For years, he continued to preach the
gospel message all over the world.
He counseled many generations of
US Presidents, he met with world leaders.
He was truly a man of God.
Today, he finally met his Lord and Savior,
Jesus Christ, face to face.
He had said in the past how much
he looked forward to this day.
And the only thing he wanted to hear
from His Lord was this...
"Well done, thou good and faithful
servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord."
Today, that mighty, yet humble servant
Billy Graham, heard just that.
Today, he is rejoicing with His Savior
in heaven! Praise the Lord!
2/21/2018
THE SUN, EARTH & MOON
(Alternative title: Sygyzy)
The sun is the past—
crucible of the
epigenetic light.
The earth’s the present—
inexorably
our arrogant might.
The moon’s the future—
a desolate orb
frozen in its plight.
Modern science says: The sun is the past, the earth is the present, the moon is the future. From an incandescent mass we have originated, and into a frozen mass we shall turn. Merciless is the law of nature, and rapidly and irresistibly we are drawn to our doom. ~Nikola Tesla
© Suzette Richards 30 July 2017
A PRICELESS GIFT
Everyone should consider his body as a priceless gift from one whom he loves above all, a marvellous work of art, of indescribable beauty, and mystery beyond human conception, and so delicate that a word, a breath, a look, nay, a thought may injure it. ~Nikola Tesla
I hold myself rigid within the framework of creeds
imposed upon me by the secular world at large.
I resist the urge to become totally feral.
A light shines through the cracked urn of my consciousness,
and challenges my intellect and the many preconceived ideas.
Reason and common sense hover; are peripheral.
I recognise that the frail husk that we dwell in
is the reason for our temptation and fleeting pleasure—
Our very earthly existence is ephemeral.
© Suzette Richards 1 July 2021
MAKING MY LIFE EASY …
From Alexander Graham Bell’s telephone,
to the electromechanical vibrator —
all invented before the vacuum cleaner.
Life as a woman has its perks,
but the drudgery of housekeeping
could leave many feeling meaner
than a nest of rattlesnakes.
But pay me some attention with an invention;
I will surely become a real keener.
I do not think you can name many great inventions that have been made by married men. ~Nikola Tesla
© Suzette Richards 10 July 2021
Written to coincide with his birthday, midnight 9–10 July.
The first 3 lines: These are all inventions by married men.
PS Tesla never married.
Also see my article: The Tesla 3–6–9: Poetic form since 2017
“Fear can paralyze us and keep us from believing God and stepping out in faith. The devil loves a fearful Christian!” - Billy Graham
With joy, my heart reaches from the shadows
Moved by love, His grace and everlasting
Peace that comes from knowing He is…
Eternal, forever, always…
Life without end, love that blesses
With light beyond articulating,
Light that never fades or fails,
Light that comes from the wonderous presence
One who is life, love, lasting grace,
Abiding beyond the earth,
In the sea of everlasting,
Heaven’s gesture to those who believe
He is the reason I can see
Beyond the stars, beyond the dreams,
Into the light of assurance and peace,
Believing that agrees….
He is the light that I treasure, the light without measure,
The sensitivity and the endless, amazing
The One who is life, light, grace and peace,
The One who abides in the forever, feeding
The heart and soul with a light that never leaves…
A light that never dims
It lasts to show the way through doubt,
To silence the fears and lead the way out,
Beyond the grief, the pain, the tears,
Far away from the heart’s disorder
He is the love that sings through the years
Always flowing with light, a beautiful
That comes alive inside those who know Him
As love and hope and grace, everything
The reason I can sincerely say…
I know the One who saves,
The One whose love is the way,
The One who takes away my sins,
Filling me with a light that glows
With love that He stirs when He saves…
Love that is wise and unafraid,
Love that is alive and burns with faith
Love that He brings when He takes away
The dread, the doubt, the sin cloud,
Saving with grace that never leaves ….
Grace this alive is like a sea inside…
A sea of love and faith,
A sea of forever praise,
Always, He is the way…
Light that never fades, the way, the Savior
I’ll follow Him forever
And know that He is to be praised with everything in me,
Praised so that nothing on earth
Can possibly dispel the worth of His love!
Clans, Ilks and Tartans
Woven into threads of red and black,
Girded by grids of white,
Distant plaintive bagpipe memories
Of sunset over Kilmaurs –
A crest that bears a unicorn
Touches royal roots
As a poet’s tribute to a patron lost
Watches neighbors Campbell and Montgomerie
Then looks out on the seas from tidal lands
Of Ayrshire in flings and reels with swirling kilts
When explorer’s feet recall on new world shores
The mew of seagulls soaring –
Politicians, engineers and entrepreneurs -
Over Fork Over – Cunningham, a clan of auld.
Blocks of green and wine
Stripped with blue
Look back into the heather
Covering highland hills of country dances
Where spring wanders in hunting kilts
Beneath clear cerulean heavens,
Boldly enduring;
A crest that bears a coronet
Of storied noble and knight
Whose melancholy legend
Whispers in glens and gloaming
Of standard bearers for a king
Watched by Ogilvy and Stewart
Lindsay, a clan of auld.
Like sunlight bouncing off of autumn leaves
In crimson, golden amber, umber greening hues -
A sword dance of squares and lines in twirling kilts -
Near the sparkling waters of Loch Lomond;
Clan neighbor Graham and cousins MacCammon
See the crest adorned by a coronet
Prize of battle;
The wind remembers
Tiny windswept island Clarinch -
A battle cry of Clar Innes -
Campaigns of kings and exiled queens –
Chieftain’s seat sees a president and prospector -
Hence the brighter honor – Buchanan, a clan of auld.
Cousins of the same ilk
Bear the names of families -
Of highland lands
And lowland memories -
Seaside and mountain territories -
Kilts wearing colors interwoven patterns
Born of clans with
Tartans telling legends and the stone of destiny,
Plaids dancing at the piper’s hand,
Ancient names, though maybe hidden, still live –
Cunnyngham, Lindsey and MacCammon
Of Buchanan –
In Celtic refrains like iridescent whispers
Woven through clans of auld.
This is the story of my Scottish heritage through the mottos, the tartans, the history and geographic references to the clan homes.
Auntie
In her lofty ways, she was always
the best example of
the stars out-shining the moon.
Her ways of doing things always
correct and proper
she was a student of the Queen.
Place setting and
the china on the table all had to
be per the law.
And no PHD could outwit her with
her twelfth-grade education.
She though dignified and learned
always quoted un-biblical quotes
from other bibles.
"Cleanliness is next to Godliness ".
I would say well didn't
God make dirt too!?
Don't be asinine she would say-
Seemed as if the emphasis
would be on the "ass"
I would laugh... and when
she thought
I was not looking
she would laugh too.
Auntie could hardly
pass up a good humorous
exchange no matter how
ostentatious or outrageous.
Her well-groomed and well
manicured demeanor
was not just for Sundays.
She served her God faithfully
in words and in deeds every day.
I have never known her
to beg or borrow.
Never seen her complain as
"Arthur" took his toll on her knees.
She was faithful to the end
and though she had no
children of her own,
she was nurturer of all us
children whom were
blessed enough to be
corrected by her or to
eat a slice of her lemon
meringue pie.
Anytime I think of her
I remember the sweetest
music coming from
the piano that displayed
her mood with music-
Her piano voiced her
thoughts in pitch and
range; as she became
one with the keys and chords.
There was no room for "I can't"--
and no excuse not trying.
She finally gave up on me
playing the piano -
That ruler had taken
its toll on my knuckles
and even if you failed at any
attempt to do things as right
as she wanted:
After a hardy reprimanding
Auntie was sure to have my favorite
food and clean bed waiting for me.
I loved her so much that
every now and then
I must write about this amazing
Sister to my mother.
Her name...
Rosella Faye Graham Derrickson Myers ...
And yes, she would say her whole ''title"
if you were to ask her, her name.
Her spirit lives on...
In all the lives that she has touched.
Yours truly borrows a phrase
courtesy the great bard
also known as
William Shakespeare's Hamlet:
"For 'tis the sport ...
Hoist by one's own petard
meaning "victimized or hurt
by one's own scheme”.
The aforementioned excerpt
hopefully describes the fate
to befall president of Russia.
Nevertheless, unseen
talon sharp claws...
dig deep into mine
psyche soft underbelly
piercing bedrock of
core (puss) being
akin to butter knife
slicing thru peanut
butter and jelly
unable to preserve
an iota of calm
while stuck in said
emotional jarring state,
which eruption of cataclysmic
agitation analogous to a bomb
going off inside my head,
where a mishmash
of frenzied discombobulated
brainstorming angst doth glom,
whereat the "little boy"
inside this man
called for his mom,
who when this aging
"baby boomer" chap
just a kid and experienced
devastating, jarring,
and paralyzing tom
malt chew hiss in dom
mitt able inexplicable fear,
though NO obvious
danger threatened, NOR
warning signaled "BEWARE,"
nonetheless adrenaline
coursed from head
to toe as if clear
and present harm
lurked quite near,
inducing a host of
physiological fallout symptoms
darkly freighting this
sole son with nightmarish scare,
whereat no escape,
nor exit no matter
how fast a sprinting tear
found me running
mile a minute only
to end up nowhere,
except smackdab right
in the same place
in relation to despair,
which translates to mean...
yours truly could not
run and hide,
as quickly made clear
to me then, and now,
though at present
scores years older, the balm
courtesy of prescription
medication popped inside
mouth from palm
olive smoothed hands,
as if this teetotaler
betook himself prom
men aiding albeit
with tumblerful of liquor
getting feigning noggin all a jam
aware that nothing amiss,
would be evident,
sans lower gastrointestinal exam,
nonetheless diet
restricted to graham
crackers and broth
distilled from ham
hock, once again thwarting
vegetarian ambitions damn!